Copy That

“Gone.”

With the news of the explosion, Ellis had started analyzing his options, but all of that slammed to a halt with this latest development. Every breath of air sucked out of the room until the dark-paneled room closed in like a prison cell. “Hill went up with the house?”

“I don’t…”

Ellis stood up, every muscle in his body snapping to life. “Either say what you need to say right now or I’ll transfer you to a field office in Alaska and find someone else to do your job.”

Andrew cleared his throat. When he spoke again, gone was the nervous newbie who shook enough to rattle his teeth when he talked. This time his voice rang clear and deep as his shoulders pulled tight into military attention. “Our guy on the ground is hearing reports about Hill getting away.”

“How?”

“In a car. He had help.”

“Who?”

“Unclear at the moment.” Andrew gave his report and checked his notes, suddenly acting like a seasoned pro. “Someone who drives a car registered to Foxtrot Enterprises.”

Ellis didn’t need to look up the name. Hill had created the corporate entity as part of his cover. Ellis paid the monthly lease on the car every month from the budget for Hill’s team.

“So, inside help.” An internal debate waged in Ellis as to whether that was a good or bad thing. Garrett alone was lethal. Operating with his dedicated team made him unstoppable.

“It would appear so, sir.”

“Keep in mind nothing is ever as it appears with Garrett Hill. We trained him to defy expectations, so confirm every detail before you take it as gospel.”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“You have an hour.”

Chapter Four

When the car eased around the corner and slowed to a stop, Meredith thought she’d gone to sleep and woken up in the middle of a strange action movie. She leaned forward, balancing her elbows on her knees. Her hands shook as she examined the cuts and scrapes on her palms.

Real people went to the hospital after being thrown by an explosion and nearly turned into a piece of burned toast. Real people did not chase after bad guys. Real people ran to the police and screamed for help.

Real life sure didn’t include finding out about a previously unknown twin brother or hanging out with men who carried guns. Not her life. Not anymore. She’d left violence behind in favor of stability. She didn’t run from the law.

She glanced over and saw the gun in Jeremy’s hand. Heard him tap his foot against the floor as his knee bounced to the steady rhythm only he could hear. “Who are you?”

His focus never wavered. He stared out the window. “Jeremy Hill.”

“You know what I mean.”

His gaze locked on her, all his intensity boring into her, and the next words she intended to say jammed in her throat.

“I’m going to protect you.”

The promises men made. “I’ve heard that before.”

At nineteen she’d heard and believed them. Vows of love and fidelity, talk of being together forever. But between the sweet touches and mind-blowing kisses he’d drop a line about her weight. About her friends being loud or dumb. About her leaving school and following him back to the Midwest because she wouldn’t need a job once they settled in their house.

She justified his behavior and made excuses for the way he isolated her. The latter made her nuts. She sneaked out to meet friends for coffee and ignored their concerned stares and dropped comments about male friends they knew who would love her. She pretended she didn’t hear the whispers as she walked away and fell deeper into his cocoon of supposed protection.

Just thinking about those days made her stomach tumble until she thought it would roll right out of her and land on the floor. The familiar fear rushed back and momentarily panicked her. The bile in her throat and trembling in her muscles—it all played like a broken record of a song she’d rather forget.

Clint had stolen something from her and she’d been fighting her entire adult life to get it back. Dignity. Selfrespect.

The safety classes and hours logged at the shooting range helped. But now, sitting in a car with men she didn’t know, all those old insecurities rushed over her. She fought off waves of debilitating self-bashing and reached for that inner balance she’d vowed never to lose again.

Jeremy’s eyes narrowed. “What does that cryptic comment mean?”

“I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“This isn’t a liberation issue or some sort of battle of the sexes.”

“Really? Feels like it.”

“No one appreciates a strong woman more than I do. I saw you kick and fight and go after that intruder. You’re a survivor and there’s nothing more attractive to me than that.”

Joel cleared his throat. “Uh, Jeremy? Maybe we should focus.”

Jeremy talked over him. The rise in his voice’s volume was the only nod to the fact that Joel had made any noise. “But, like it or not, we have to be realistic about men’s physical advantages. Weight and strength all matter. I’m not saying you can’t win, but it’s not easy.”

She didn’t want size to play a role, but she was smart enough to know it did. Her self-defense instructor made that clear. He also gave some hints on how to even the battle.

“I’m quite familiar with men who lead with fists,” she said.

Jeremy’s gaze wandered over her face. It felt as if an hour passed before he spoke again, though it was probably more like seconds. “I don’t want the guy hunting for Garrett to target you. He’ll have a gun—”

“I can shoot.”

Jeremy’s head snapped back as if he hadn’t expected that answer. He glanced at Joel in the mirror then back to her. “Practicing on a target or cans of whatever and actually aiming at a person are different things.”

She knew that all too well, but she had no intention of sharing that information. “And?”

“I’ll shoot without blinking.”

“People will look for me. I have friends and neighbors. People are going to ask questions.”

At least, she hoped that was true. She hadn’t lived in Coronado long. She spent her time reading in the park and dreaded any invitation to hang out in a bar with coworkers looking for men. The whole “get drunk and find some random guy to sleep with” thing left her feeling hollow. She wasn’t a prude but the bar scene, complete with all the stupid games and fake attraction stunts, had never appealed to her.

Joel stretched his arm along the back of the seat. “She’s right. Her absence will cause questions.”

“I’m only asking for a few hours.” Jeremy’s jaw tightened to the point of cracking with each word. “You can trust me that long.”

“Not if you’re running around shooting at people.”

“Last time I pulled a weapon I stopped a guy from touching you.”