Out of the Shadows (Tangled Ivy #3) (3 page)

I turned to Beau. “And what business is that exactly? You’re supposed to be a salesman.”

“Actually, I’m CIA,” he said.

I stared at him. “CIA,” I repeated in disbelief. “You.
You’re
a CIA agent.”

A hurt look crossed Beau’s face. “I’m a little offended,” he said. “It’s not
that
unbelievable.”

“Yeah it is,” Ty interjected.

“Shut up,” Beau said without heat, then turned back to me. “Yeah. I’ve been keeping an eye on you for Devon.”

Devon.

My heart skipped a beat at hearing his name.

“You’ve seen Devon?” I asked.

“Who do you think helped arrange this little rescue?” he replied.

Hope leapt inside me. Devon hadn’t forgotten about me, in spite of the horrible things I’d said to him.

“Where is he?” I asked, hoping he hadn’t left the country.

“We’re meeting up with him,” he replied.

“Why didn’t he come?” Why hadn’t he been the one to rescue me instead of Beau?

“I’ve got a get-out-of-jail-free card,” Beau said. “The FBI and CIA may not be buddies, but if things had gone badly, they couldn’t have kept me. Devon doesn’t have that kind of out, plus, he needs to keep his head down and profile low right now.”

“Why?”

“I’ll let him tell you that,” Beau said, looking out the window.

We pulled into the parking lot of a strip motel. Ty parked in front of one of the rooms on the end just as the door flew open. It was Devon, standing there watching us.

My hand was on the door handle, but I hesitated, unsure of the reception I’d get. Telling myself it didn’t matter—at least I was free—I pushed the door open and got out.

Devon’s gaze landed on me with an intensity I could feel. I took a tentative step toward him, then he was striding toward me and I was running to him.

He caught me in his arms, lifting me off the ground and holding me so tightly it was hard to breathe. Not that I cared.

“Thank God,” he murmured in my ear, and the relief in his voice brought tears to my eyes.

“I don’t know if I should cry or vomit.” Beau’s dry comment got a laugh out of Ty.

“Sod off,” Devon said, easing his hold until my feet touched the ground.

“Let’s get inside before a drive-by brings a swift end to this touching reunion,” Beau said.

Taking my hand, Devon drew me inside the motel room, with Beau and Ty bringing up the rear.

“You were quicker than I thought,” Devon said to Beau.

“Well, she’d done most of the work for us,” Beau replied with a nod to me. “She was practically on her way out when we got there.”

“Really,” Devon said, looking at me. A glimmer of a smile played about his lips.

I shrugged. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

He caught sight of my bloody arm and frowned. “You’re hurt.”

“Just a scratch. They were afraid of me, that they’d catch it or something.”

Devon disappeared into the bathroom as Beau and Ty sat in two plastic-cushioned chairs. He returned with a wet washcloth and reached for my arm.

“No, don’t,” I said. “I’ll do it. I don’t want you to get infected.”

“Nonsense,” he said, taking my hand and sitting on the edge of the bed. “If your bodily fluids were going to infect me, they would have done so before now.” He tugged me down next to him.

“Totally TMI, buddy,” Beau piped up.

I rolled my eyes, smiling as I let Devon clean up the blood. I drank him in. He wore jeans and a cotton shirt, the color a deep navy that made his blue eyes even more startling in color.

“So what now?” Beau asked. “They’re going to be looking for her, and it’ll only take a few hours before the surveillance tape shows who I am.”

“It’s late,” Devon said, glancing at the clock. “Let’s get some rest and discuss the way forward in the morning.”

Beau and Ty got to their feet. “Yeah, that’s probably best. You two have a lot to discuss anyway. Catch you in the a.m.” They exited the room with little fanfare, the door closing quietly behind them.

Neither Devon nor I watched them leave, both of us still staring at each other. I was relieved that Beau and Ty had left, and apparently Devon felt the same because he pulled me into his arms again, one hand cupping the back of my neck as he kissed me.

I felt that kiss down to my toes. Lacking all pretense of seduction, it was relief and thankfulness and love poured from him to me.

He pulled me sideways onto his lap, his hands cradling my face as he kissed me. I buried my hands in his hair, pressing as close to him as I could. When we finally came up for air, I didn’t move from his lap. He cradled my head in the crook of his neck and held me.

“I was so scared,” I confessed. “I was afraid they’d keep me there forever.”

“I wasn’t about to let that happen,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Didn’t you think I’d come for you? Have you so little faith in me?”

“After the things I said, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Brutal honesty. I didn’t want any more lies between us.

“Ah yes, the resounding kiss-off you gave me. I should have seen through your little ploy quicker than I did.”

I rested my head against him again, the scene in my apartment replaying inside my head, as well as everything that had led up to it.

“Vega killed Clive,” I said. “Right in front of me. She said she’d kill you, too, if I didn’t make you leave.”

Devon sighed. “I know. And I was a bloody idiot not to realize what you were doing and take you with me right there and then. It would have spared you the past few days.”

“How did you know I was gone?” I asked. “I thought you left.”

“I was with Beau,” he said. “We couldn’t stop them, not without killing them, and it’s taken this long for him to work his contacts to find out where you were. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.”

Shrugging, I said, “They didn’t hurt me. Just took blood and kept me prisoner. I haven’t even seen Scott since he brought those men into my apartment.”

“The next time I see him, he’s dead.” That sent a chill through me. I didn’t doubt Devon meant every word.

It was later than I thought, nearly midnight, and I realized my inner clock had been off by about six hours. But that also explained why Beau and Ty had come when they did, when the shift at the facility would be lowest, rather than during daylight hours.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to me,” I said. “It’s not like I can undo what Galler did, and now everyone knows. No matter what I do, they’re going to find me eventually and put me back inside that place, or another one just like it.” I felt as though my life, as I’d known it, was over. Any chance I’d had for happiness was gone. My life was no longer my own to control.

“Shh, don’t say that,” he said. “I won’t let them.”

“They’ll kill you if you try and stop them. And even if we do get away from them, Vega won’t let us be together. We’re living on borrowed time.”

Devon pulled back to look at me. “Aren’t you the fatalist,” he teased. “We’ll find a way out of this. I love you, and I’m not letting you go. We’ll be together. No matter what.”

It sounded too good to be true, but I wanted to believe him. I decided that no matter what happened, we had right now. I kissed him, the feel of his lips against mine grounding me in a way that was comforting. We were together, and despite everything, Devon loved me and wanted to fight for us. I couldn’t ask for more.

Tugging at his shirt, I pulled it up over his head and tossed it aside. His skin was warm and smooth under my hands. I ran my palms over his shoulders and down his arms, admiring the hard expanse of muscle that curved and contracted as he moved.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he murmured against my lips. “You sure you wouldn’t rather take a nap?”

“Why waste time sleeping?” I asked. “Besides, I trust you. You won’t hurt me.” And I didn’t just mean physically. Devon understood me, the Ivy I’d hidden away all these years who’d pretended everything was okay. He’d found her—found me—and made me face and conquer all that had kept me prisoner inside.

“Never,” he breathed.

He undressed me carefully, kissing every inch of skin he revealed. His lips gently traced the cut on my arm, as though he could heal the wound himself. Skin glided along skin, our bodies touching, and it was more than arousal, more than desire. It was coming home.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered as his mouth brushed a kiss along my jaw. My hair was spread on the pillow as he settled above me.

“I was a bloody fool to let you go,” he murmured. “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Making love
had been a phrase I’d always shied away from, the words feeling melodramatic and overwrought to describe the physical act of sex. But I’d been wrong. I’d just never felt this way, never had a man who felt the same in return, and that transformed everything into more than the physical. Devon gazed into my eyes, pressed light kisses to my cheeks, and murmured words of love in my ear as he moved inside me. I held him close, glad beyond words that I’d stuck with him even when it looked like our relationship would never amount to anything.

He wrung two orgasms from me before allowing himself to come, his body shuddering against mine. Our bodies were slick with sweat, his chest heaving as our lips clung together.

Spent, I lay cradled in his arms. He played with my hair and I listened to the sound of his heart beating.

“I don’t want tomorrow to come,” I said, my voice quiet in the dim motel room. “I wish we could stay like this and pretend nothing else existed.” A ridiculous, childish hope.

“It’ll be all right,” Devon said.

“You don’t know that.” I turned, resting my chin on my arm as I lay on his chest and looked up at him. “Can we just run away? Far away, somewhere they’ll never find us.”

“We have the means, yes, but I don’t want to be constantly looking over our shoulders, waiting for the day they track us down, because they certainly will. That’s no way to live.”

He was right and I knew it, but I was still disappointed. I noticed he’d placed his gun under the pillow and his right hand lay tucked beneath his head. Devon keeping a weapon within easy reach even as we slept only reinforced the danger we were in.

A deep sense of foreboding hung over me, and I couldn’t help being afraid that one or both of us wouldn’t make it out of this alive.

M
orning came too quickly, and when I woke up, Devon had already gone and come back, bringing me clothes and a cup of coffee.

Beau and Ty showed up soon after I’d showered and dressed, also sipping from paper cups of steaming black coffee.

“So Beau said he’d been keeping an eye on me for you,” I said to Devon. At the time, the interest Beau had taken in my life had seemed so strange. He’d given new meaning to
nosy neighbor
. I’d thought him eccentric—friendly but odd. Now it turned out he’d been spying for Devon.

“I didn’t like leaving you alone,” Devon said. “Beau lived right across the hall from me, so he kept tabs on you, yes.” He didn’t sound apologetic.

“So even after you said we were through and left me the apartment . . .”

“Yes,” he said, his palm brushing my cheek. “Even when I didn’t think I’d be back, I couldn’t help wanting to know how you were, what you were doing.”

I pulled back. “How nice for you,” I said stiffly. “Whereas I was left to wonder each day if you were still alive or not.”

“Awkward,” Ty mumbled under his breath. I shot him a look and he shut up.

“We can argue about it later,” Devon said. “For now, we need to plan.” He turned to Beau. “What did you find out?”

“Well, you were right. Vega’s ticked off some people in pretty high places. They think she’s become too powerful and want her taken out. Unfortunately, she’s got too many balls in vises.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“She’s got too much dirt on too many people,” Devon said. “She’s spent the past forty years collecting every secret and skeleton in the closet of every politician in Britain. No one dares oppose her.”

“Which is why the CIA is willing to help,” Beau said. “Off the record, of course. I let The Powers That Be know that you’ve gone rogue and are looking to terminate your association with the Shadow and Vega. They like the idea of the British owing us one, so they’ll help you and turn a blind eye, even keep the FBI off your backs for a while.”

“To take Vega out, I need to get back to London,” Devon said. “There’s no way that’s going to happen on a commercial flight.”

“Agreed. But if you drive down to Key West, we can put you on a boat to Gitmo in Cuba. From there, we can fly you into London under the radar and outside of prying eyes, both theirs and ours.”

“Drive to Key West. How long will that take?”

“From here? About twenty-four, twenty-five hours,” Ty answered.

“We can put Ivy in a safe house—” Beau began.

“No,” Devon interrupted, his voice hard. “Absolutely not. She’ll come with me.”

Beau looked surprised. “But it’ll be dangerous—”

“So will leaving her behind. I trust you, but no one else. Leaving her behind is out of the question.”

I was thrilled at this, my heart having sank when Beau talked about a safe house. I didn’t want to let Devon out of my sight, even for a moment. And it appeared he felt the same way.

“Okay then,” Beau said. “I’ll give you the name of the contact in Key West.”

“Wait,” I interrupted. “What about my job? My friends and family? Won’t they have the cops out searching for me by now?” I couldn’t imagine how worried Grams had to be after not hearing from me for the past few weeks. Or Logan.

“The FBI took care of that,” Beau replied dryly. “You decided to quit your job and go on sabbatical with the Peace Corps in Venezuela.”

My eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? No one who knows me would buy that.” Did they even have air conditioning in Venezuela?

“They’re less concerned about people buying it than just having a plausible reason for your disappearance,” Ty clarified. “Sketchy cell service in South America. And the Peace Corps isn’t known for providing its workers with five-star hotel accommodations, so it’s not like you can call home frequently. All in all, not a bad cover story.”

I shook my head, knowing that there was no way Logan would believe such a story. He had to know it had something to do with Devon, which would be just as bad, because he wouldn’t think to raise any alarm about my disappearance.

Beau and Ty got to their feet. “Good luck, my man,” Beau said to Devon. He turned to me. “Take this,” he said, handing me the gun he’d given me the day before. “You may need it.”

“Thank you,” I said, impulsively giving him a hug. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“No problem,” he said with a grin. “You were the one going all Sarah Connor. Way to be badass.”

He fist-bumped me, which I half missed because no one I knew did that. I laughed, pleased at the compliment anyway.

Ty gave me a finger wave, then they were out the door and heading to their car.

“We should go, too,” Devon said.

A few minutes later, we were driving out of the lot, heading in the opposite direction of Beau and Ty.

“Where’d you get the car?” I asked. We were in the latest model of a high-end black SUV.

“I thought we could use something less obvious than what I’d prefer to drive,” he said. “It’s not awful.”

I gave a little laugh. No, I certainly wouldn’t call a car that cost almost a hundred grand “awful.”

“So you know the way to Key West?” I asked.

“It’s south, a little east,” he replied, glancing at me.

“That’s kinda vague,” I said, eyeing the navigational system in the car. “Why don’t I just punch in the address and let it map it for us?” God forbid a man would need directions, even Devon, apparently.

“If it’ll make you feel better,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t need it.”

I hid a smile, working the menu until the computerized female voice came on over the speakers.

“When possible, make a U-turn,” she said politely.

I snorted a laugh, turning it into a cough when Devon shot me a look. But he did as the computer told him, spinning the car around to head in the opposite direction.

We drove for a while in silence. There was a lot to discuss, but I wanted to enjoy just being with Devon. His hand reached for mine, loosely slotting our fingers together, and it made me smile.

A while later, we drove through a small town and stopped for gas. A restaurant across the street was open and my stomach growled.

“Can we get something to eat?” I asked when Devon got back in. I pointed to the restaurant.

He grimaced slightly. “We’re likely to get hepatitis, but all right. There aren’t a lot of choices, it would seem.”

“You’re such a snob,” I teased. “You’re not going to get hepatitis.”

“You can hardly know that,” he said, maneuvering the car across the street and into a vacant parking spot. “And if I do, you’ll be saddled with caring for your ailing boyfriend.”

Boyfriend
. What an odd term to apply to Devon. He felt like so much
more
than that, especially after all we’d been through.

The place smelled like coffee and bacon, and I took an appreciative sniff as a waitress led us to a booth by the windows. I slid into the vinyl seat as Devon sat opposite me.

“Coffee, please,” I said, taking a menu from her.

“Hot tea,” Devon ordered.

Everything looked good—I was starving—and when the waitress came back, I ordered a ham and Swiss omelet with hash browns and a side of biscuits and gravy.

Devon raised an eyebrow as he listened to me, then ordered poached eggs with bacon and rye toast.

“What exactly is biscuits and gravy?” he asked once she’d gone.

“It’s nirvana,” I answered with a grin. “My Grams used to make me homemade biscuits and sausage gravy all the time.” At the memory, my smile faded.

“What’s wrong?” Devon asked.

I shrugged. “I just miss them, that’s all. They practically raised me, but I don’t see them much anymore since I moved.” With all that had happened, I craved the normalcy of home and my grandparents.

“And you never told them about Jace,” he said.

I shook my head. “Why would I? It would just hurt them and bring back the past for me. That part of my life is done.”

“And what do you see for the next part of your life?” He took a sip of his tea.

“Is this a trick question?”

His lips tipped up in a half smile. “No. But it occurs to me that you’ve never mentioned career aspirations.”

“I don’t really have any,” I confessed. “I was just glad to get out of my hometown and be somewhere else. I’ve always been good with numbers so the job at the bank seemed like a good entry-level position.” While other teens had been discussing colleges and career plans, I’d just wanted to leave. It hadn’t mattered what my major was, only that it had taken me away.

“Did you go to university?”

“Yes. The University of Kansas. I studied business.” Not terribly exciting, but my grades had been decent. “Why are you asking?”

The waitress brought our food then, so he didn’t answer until she’d left. I dug into the biscuits and gravy first, which were almost as good as my Gram’s.

“After this is over, we should have a plan,” he said, shaking salt and pepper onto his eggs.

I didn’t answer for a moment as I chewed. “You really think we’re going to come out of this okay and go live life like normal people?”

Devon glanced up from his eggs. “Of course. Don’t you?”

I was careful with my words. “I hope so,” I said. “But the odds aren’t in our favor.”

He looked at me, his expression grim. “Then why are you here?” he asked.

I stared at him in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“If you think you’re going to die, then why stay?”

It took a moment, but then I understood. He took my lack of faith in our chances of survival as a lack of faith in
him
.

“I’m here because I love you,” I said. “And if anyone can keep me safe and get us out of this mess, it’s you. But Devon, Vega has people everywhere, and now the FBI is looking for me. It seems . . . hopeless.”

He leaned across the table and took my hand in a firm grip. “You can’t lose hope,” he said. “Don’t lose sight of what you want, and don’t be afraid.”

I looked in his eyes, his expression gravely serious, and gave a slow nod.

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t.”

He studied me a moment more, as though ascertaining the validity of my words, before sitting back again and taking another bite of his breakfast.

Maybe we could maneuver our way out of this for a happily ever after.

“Try this,” I said, holding out my biscuit-and-gravy-laden fork to him.

He looked dubious, but leaned forward and ate the bite, chewing slowly.

“Well?”

The look on his face said it all and I couldn’t stop a laugh. “You don’t appreciate fine cuisine,” I teased.

“Neither of those words apply to that dog’s dinner,” he retorted.

I shook my head and went back to my breakfast, then caught him looking at something over my shoulder, his attention fixed.

“What is it?” I asked, turning to see what had him so mesmerized.

There were only a handful of customers, and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I glanced in the corner to where a television was hung, then promptly dropped my fork.

My face was on the screen, along with a caption: “Wanted by the FBI.” The TV wasn’t loud but I could hear, “. . . escaped late last night from an FBI detention facility and is considered armed and extremely dangerous. The public is cautioned not to approach her if spotted, but to call 911 or the FBI tips hotline at once.”

The picture of me they used was one that had been taken for my ID badge at work. I was smiling, my hair very long and blonde. And it felt as though I was looking at a stranger.

I’d changed so much since the day I’d met Devon. For the better, I thought.

“Turn around,” Devon muttered. “Don’t draw attention to the television.”

I did as he said, staring at the food on my plate that had suddenly lost its appeal.

“No one paid any attention to that, I think,” Devon said. “But let’s get out of here, just the same.” He tossed some money onto the table. Scooting out of the booth, he took my hand and pulled me after him. Our exit from the diner was ruthlessly unhurried, when all I wanted to do was run. But we caught no one’s attention, as was the intent.

Once we were back in the car, I let out a sigh of relief. Devon started the engine before pulling out of the lot.

“Now what?” I asked. “If they plaster that everywhere, there’s no way we’ll make it all the way to Key West.”

“We need to change your appearance,” Devon said. “People notice you already, so you stick in their minds. You’re quite right. Someone will figure it out.”

My looks. Most women would be glad to have them, but they’d caused me nothing but trouble. Being pretty—a curse that should have been a blessing. I’d been born with pure-white blonde hair that now hung to the middle of my back, and golden bedroom eyes. I was tall and model-thin, which I
had
always appreciated because it was really the best figure for wearing the designer clothes I coveted.

Devon spotted a drugstore a couple of blocks down. “Get in the backseat and lie down,” he said.

I did as he instructed, climbing over the seat rather than stepping outside. We were only about fifty miles from where I’d been held, and it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that they’d spread the search this far.