Hot Rebel (12 page)

She let the shirt go and it fell. “You’re not my type,” she said, sitting back and adjusting her sunglasses. “Sorry.”

He snorted. “What, male? That not your type, sweetheart?”

She made an indelicate noise. “I like men just fine. I don’t like big, brawny men with more muscles than brains.”

He gripped the wheel and stared at the road in front of them. Then he laughed as he remembered that kiss they’d shared. Not interested in him? Yeah, right. “You’re so full of shit. Up to your pretty eyebrows.”

She propped a foot on the dash and wrapped an arm around her knee. “I’m too focused on what I need to do. Sorry. Another place, another lifetime, maybe you’d be fun for a few hours.” She shrugged. “But not now. Not when Emily’s out there somewhere, counting on me.”

*
 
*
 
*

Yeah, she was full of shit. Because he was beautiful, his skin golden and hot, and she’d nearly jerked her fingers away as they sizzled from that simple touch when she’d yanked his shirt up. God, what had she been thinking to touch him like that?

She’d just wanted to unnerve him a little bit, but she’d unnerved herself instead.
 

Victoria shoved her hair off her shoulder and concentrated on the flat desert sand in front of them. They’d been riding for less than two hours now, and already her body was keyed up, like a lightning rod that had taken a strike and had nowhere to discharge it. Her skin sizzled with energy, and her fingers tapped a relentless beat on her leg as she held her knee and focused her attention ahead of the car.

“Tell me about her,” he said, and her head swiveled around to look at him. He glanced at her but then turned his attention back to the road. His big hands gripped the wheel steadily, and she found that she could almost relax with him. Almost, but not quite. She hadn’t trusted Jonah as far as she could throw him, and he’d driven like shit. Her partner before him had left after a month, unable to handle the heat—in more ways than one—and eager to get back to Iowa, or somewhere equally normal and reasonably safe.

None of her partners had ever asked about her life. Oh, some of them had expressed an interest in getting horizontal with her, much as Nick had—but there was something about his suggestions that made her belly spark and her pussy clench and her breath shorten. The others had simply pissed her off.

She was so used to holding her past close that she almost told him to fuck off. And then she decided what the hell. What did it matter? He was risking his life by being here, the same as she was, and while he was doing it for his colonel and a cause, he was still doing it when he didn’t have to. It could have been anyone else in his unit—but it was Nick Brandon, and at least she sort of knew him.

Besides, part of her wanted him to understand.

“She used to be a sweet kid. Open, trusting, desperately seeking love and belonging.” Victoria sucked in a sharp breath. “We were orphaned, you see. My grandfather took us in—but then he died and we went into foster care. It didn’t work out so well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. No one harmed us. But we were… unwanted, I think. Emily felt it worse than I did because she was younger. I still remember our parents. She doesn’t. Gramps was all we had—and then he was gone.”

“You think bin Yusuf made her feel as if she belonged somewhere?”

Victoria swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. Her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him know how much she blamed herself. If she’d been there, instead of in the Army…

“He must have. He’s very… charismatic. He’s obsessed with Americans—or was, anyway. Completely gets the culture and psyche.”

“You think he singled her out.”

“I don’t really know. I wasn’t there.” She ran her hands through her hair, scrubbed her scalp as if she could scrub away the bad memories and the guilt. “I joined the Army, looking for a way out, you know? I wanted the security and the college fund. I wanted to make her my dependent, help her get clean. But she took up with Zaran, and that was the end of everything. The Army didn’t appreciate the connection to a radical terrorist, apparently.”

He was silent for a long moment. “So you left the Army and ended up here.”

“I have a skill that’s useful. I’ll never get to use the G.I. Bill now, but with the money Ian pays me, I’ll be able to take care of Emily and maybe go to college someday too. It was the best option I had.”

“I’m not judging you, Victoria.”

“You already did that, Preacher Boy. A couple of weeks ago, unless my memory fails me.”

He didn’t even comment on her use of the nickname he hated. “Yeah, I did. But I was fucking pissed. You ruined my shot, and you let that asshole get away.”

“I had to, don’t you get that?” she snapped. And then she shook her head, wondering how she’d let the conversation get this far away from her. Why had she thought she could spill her guts, even a little bit? There was a price to be paid when you let it all out.

“He’s the only link I have to Emily. If something happens to him, then what happens to her? I couldn’t take that chance.”

The silence stretched out between them like a wire pulled tight. “I have a sister,” he finally said.
 

His voice was even, mild, and she blinked as if they’d entered a time warp. She’d expected him to say something about what she’d done out there when she’d shot the opposition commander instead of bin Yusuf. Or something about Ian and how dirty he had to be for ordering it done.

She hadn’t expected him to say he had a sister. It confused her and made a feeling swell in her chest that she didn’t quite know how to process. Her gut reaction was to lash out, to push him away.

“Congratulations.”
 

The minute she snapped at him, she felt sorry for it. But he didn’t snap back.

“Her name is Shelly and she’s gay. Not that I fucking care, but my parents did. Still do. They disowned her—and I disowned them. So yeah, sweetheart, I get why you’re doing this. I’d do anything to erase the pain of our parents’ betrayal, to make them see that Shel is normal and beautiful just the way she is. But they don’t fucking care. It’s a sin, and Shel is evil in their eyes for not changing to suit them. They don’t care how much they hurt her by refusing to acknowledge her existence.” His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Well,
I
care. And I’d do anything to make her happy, so yeah, I get it.”

Her vision was blurry now, damn him. Finally, someone who might really understand. Not just express sympathy and secretly wonder why she didn’t simply let her sister self-destruct. Anyone who was so foolish as to get herself tangled up with a man who professed hatred of the United States and all Americans surely deserved what she got, right?

Well, not when you could still remember her hugging you tight at night because she was scared of a monster under the bed, or when she followed you on her bike even when you told her not to because you were meeting with your friends and then cried when you got angry and said you didn’t want her around because she was still a baby and you weren’t. Victoria had soothed fears, bandaged scrapes, and taught her sister what it meant when she got her period.
 

Gramps had been wonderful, but there were some things he either didn’t think of or didn’t want to think of because he was uncomfortable with them. Ushering two girls into teenage-dom hadn’t been easy, that’s for sure.

Gramps had told them endless stories about his days in the Army. “We didn’t leave no man behind, little missies. Not ever. You could count on your fellow soldier to take care of you. And you can count on us to take care of each other, am I right?”

Leave no man behind.
That’s what she was doing. Or no woman, in this case. Victoria rolled her fingers into a fist, digging her nails into her palm so she wouldn’t cry at the thought of Emily and all that had gone wrong.

“Thanks for telling me that,” she said, her voice tight. “Shelly is lucky to have you for a brother.”

He shrugged, but a muscle in his jaw tensed as if he were suppressing strong emotion. “We’ll find your sister, Victoria. I promise we will.”

CHAPTER TEN

Nick drove well into the night. When he finally got too tired to keep going, he found a place to pull off the road and park. There were other cars parked along the roadway as well, jammed up in little clusters for safety—or the illusion of safety. The road to the south was well patrolled by government forces, and they’d managed to keep it open for the past couple of months now. But there was always a risk that the opposition forces would cut the roadway off again.

Victoria sat up as he put the Land Rover in park. She’d been curled into her seat for the past two hours, sleeping. She blinked and pushed her hair out of her face. “Where are we?”

“Stopping for the night.”

She peered through the window at the cars. “Is this safe?”

He let his gaze slide over the other cars. A couple of men had gathered together to smoke and talk, but mostly it was quiet.
 

“As safe as anything, I imagine. Better this than pulling off somewhere alone, wouldn’t you say? At least we’re part of a group.”

“Hmm, maybe so.” She didn’t sound completely convinced.

He’d disabled the tracking device a few hours ago now, so even if Ian Black was targeting them for someone—feeding information to bin Yusuf—they weren’t easily identifiable at the moment. He’d made Victoria shut off her phone earlier, though she’d argued, but there was really no way he could be certain Black hadn’t tagged her phone. She’d agreed with the logic, though she’d been pissed.

His phone was fine because it had never been out of his possession, but he’d still turned it off after a quick message to his team leader. Matt Girard would know what to do with the information, and that was the best Nick could hope for.

“I could drive for a while,” Victoria said. “Get us a bit farther.”

Nick shook his head. “We’ll stay here for a few hours, then leave again at daylight.”

He could feel her bristling in the dark. And he just knew that one eyebrow was arched imperiously.
 

“Since when are you in charge?”

“Since you agreed to work for us in exchange for your sister and clearing your name.”

She was silent, and he knew he had her.

“Fine,” she said after a minute. But she didn’t sound happy about it.

He opened his door and put a foot out. “I’ll put the seats down in the back, and we can bed down there.”

Her eyes flashed in the lights from oncoming traffic. “Shouldn’t someone stay in the driver’s seat? Just in case?”

“We’re armed, Victoria. If anyone fucks with us, I’d rather shoot them than drive over them.”

“I meant in case we need to escape, dickhead.”

“I know what you meant. And I don’t think it’s something we have to worry about tonight. We weren’t followed, no one pulled off when we did, and the tracking device was disabled hours ago. I think we can sleep for a few hours—though we’ll sleep with guns beneath our heads.”

She didn’t say anything else and he powered the windows down an inch or so before he got out and opened the passenger door. The desert was cool at night, thankfully, and all they needed was a little fresh air. Then he went about putting the seats down and shifting their gear until it lined the sides and they could sleep in the middle with their packs as pillows. After the bedding was ready, he shut and locked the driver’s side and then climbed into the back. Victoria didn’t move from her position in the passenger seat as he stretched out as much as was possible for a six-three male inside a vehicle with the seats down.

He arranged his weapons so he could reach the Sig first. His knife was strapped to one ankle, and he had a smaller pistol strapped to the other.

“You staying up there?”

“Maybe.”

“Suit yourself. Just means I have more room back here.”

She leaned the seat back a bit, though it didn’t go as far as it might have if he hadn’t put the back seats down.
 

“This is the part I hate,” she said after a while. “Sitting and waiting.”

Nick snorted. “That’s what being a sniper is, honey. But you knew that already.”

“I know. I like being inside my own head, thinking about things—but the longer I do this, the more I hate the prep. I’d rather just get the job done and go.”

“Some jobs are that way.”

“Some. Not enough.”

Nick shifted to his back and bent his knees. “Where did you learn to shoot?”

She sighed. “My gramps. He was a Green Beret in Vietnam. He didn’t much know what to do with two little girls, but when he thought we should know how to handle a weapon, I took to it like a fish to water.”

He could hear the wistfulness in her voice. She’d had a tough life. He was beginning to realize that. His had been tough in a different way, but it hadn’t been as lonely as hers. He’d been surrounded by good people, and he’d been encouraged in every way possible so long as he toed a straight and narrow line. Fishing and hunting had been a way of life where he was from, and he’d grown up with a rifle in his hands. He’d never thought back then, spending his days in the beautiful Ozarks of Missouri, that he’d one day target people with his rifle.