Chapter Twenty

Eric sat in one of the chairs on his back porch while Tiger ran around the yard, his tail swaying back and forth as he sniffed the grass. As much as he loved having a dog for a partner, he also got a kick out of watching the big shepherd enjoy life, as every dog should.

At seven in the morning, the air was still crisp and clean, the grass sparkling with dew that hadn’t yet evaporated in the hot summer air. He glanced up at one of the windows on the second floor—Tess’s bedroom—where he’d reluctantly left her sleeping while he fed Tiger breakfast then took him outside.

With the blinds open, the early morning light had made her hair shimmer like copper and her smooth skin glow. After making love, they’d slept for a few hours then made love again, slower, sweeter, until she’d clung to him and cried out in his arms. Then, they’d fallen asleep, limbs entwined, while his hands caressed her bare back and buttocks.

He grinned like an idiot. Skimming his hand over her body was something he fully intended to resume the second Tiger finished his business.

His dog trotted along the fence, shoving his snout into a clump of ferns and scaring up a rabbit that he playfully chased around the yard, zigzagging after it, yet not really trying to catch the animal.

He repositioned the laptop on his knees then pulled up his email and scanned the twenty or so new messages. There were several reports from the teams of agents standing watch over the drums, one team via the real-time camera feed from inside the barn, and the other staging nearby in the school parking lot. He’d have received an immediate phone call if anyone so much as twitched in the vicinity of that barn. The only two emails of note were regarding the hit they’d gotten from facial recognition on the other two men with Pritchard yesterday, and one from the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

Charles Fenway and James Ruffalo had minor records relating to unpaid taxes. Ruffalo was a commercial truck driver who’d lost his license for smuggling large quantities of liquor across the Mexican border. Fenway was an assistant manager at the Excelsior Hotel in Newark. Turned out the barn property was owned by Fenway’s family, although it hadn’t been a functioning farm for decades.

Both men were known by local police to be associates of a loosely organized local sovereign citizen movement, one that had never gained a foothold in New Jersey and had never caused any real problems for law enforcement.

Until now.

The mere fact that Fenway and Ruffalo had been with Mark Pritchard at the barn was a bad sign. Pritchard’s close association with Harley Gant meant that Gant’s filthy fingers were all over this mess.

When Eric had been assigned to the Birmingham office, he’d never known Gant to set foot outside Alabama or to stick his nose in another sovereign citizen chapter’s business. Then again, there was a first time for everything.

Gant didn’t know it, but Eric’s boss had reached out to his ATF counterpart in Birmingham, advising them of the operation in New Jersey. There were currently several teams of ATF and FBI agents searching for Gant to verify his location. What worried Eric was that no one could find the man. Trash like Gant didn’t just vanish into thin air.

The email from AUSA Julie Chang was better than he could have hoped for. The U.S. Attorney’s Office considered the controlled delivery a success, and in exchange for Tess’s cooperation, no charges would be filed against Jesse. The kid’s record would remain clean, which meant he could still pursue a career in law enforcement. Eric looked forward to putting the kid on the right path to making that a reality. He liked Jesse. It was a gratifying opportunity to be a role model to someone who’d also grown up with a lousy father.

Tiger trotted up the stairs then sat by the chair, extending his paw and holding it motionless for Eric to shake.

“All done, buddy?” He clasped his dog’s wet paw. Tiger dipped his head down then up several times, as if nodding. “Good. As much as I enjoy watching you chase bunnies, I’ve got better things to do this morning.”

Like shuck his shorts and get naked again with Tess.

After going back inside, Tiger trailed him up the stairs. Along the way, he continued scrolling through his email. He was about to push open Tess’s door, but the last message indicated the audio and video recordings from the controlled delivery were ready for his review at the office. Which meant he’d have to get in there before his four-to-midnight surveillance shift at the barn kicked in.

He pushed open the door, and when Tiger would have bolted to the bed to give Tess a proper, sloppy canine wake-up, Eric stopped him. She lay on her back, near the side of the bed closest to the door, with the sheets twisted around her ankles. With every breath she took, her small, perfect breasts rose and fell, reminding him of just how sweet they tasted, and how crazy turned on he’d gotten closing his lips on the tight little buds and sucking them into his mouth.

“She is so beautiful,” he murmured. Now, it was obvious. He should have stayed in Springfield to find out what could have happened between them.

What is happening between us?

He still didn’t know. Whatever it was, he liked it.

“C’mon, boy.” He pushed from the doorway. “Let’s wake her up.”

Snorting with happiness, Tiger shot ahead to the side of the bed, stretching to give her a sound licking on her chin and cheeks.

As she woke, her face wrinkled. When she began giggling, his heart squeezed just a little.

“Okay, okay. I’m awake.” She shoved at the dog’s head, but he wasn’t having any of it. More to the point, he thought it was a game and rose gracefully to rest his paws on the mattress, giving him a better angle to keep slobbering all over her face.

Laughing more, she turned on her side, giving Eric a tantalizing view of the round globes of her buttocks.

“Tiger.” Eric snapped his fingers, indicating playtime was over. Tiger’s playtime. Mine’s about to get started. “Platz.”

With a huff that carried with it a distinct you’re-no-fun undertone, Tiger found a spot on the floor where he circled twice before lying down and aiming pouting amber eyes at Eric.

“My turn.” When he sat on the mattress, she rolled onto her back again. Bright green eyes locked with his, and she gave him a hesitant smile. “Morning.” He rested his hand on her belly, then leaned over and captured her mouth, sinking his tongue between her lips for a deeply satisfying kiss that reignited his need for her. As much as he wanted to pick up where they’d left off last night, there were a few things they needed to discuss first. Pritchard, for one.

Reluctantly, he drew back, soaking in the energy glittering in her bright green eyes. Maybe she was right after all. Maybe people really did radiate a life force—an energy as potent as a drug. Hers is, anyway. It wrapped around him like a warm towel.

“Morning,” she said, swirling her fingers at his nape.

Goose bumps paraded down his back, bee-lining straight to his groin. Oh, man. His dick twitched like a garden hose filling with water.

He grazed his knuckles along her temple, nudging one curl to the side when it began to fall in front of her eyes. A thin white scar ran from the edge of her hairline. With her thick curly hair, he hadn’t noticed it before.

“How did you get that scar?” He traced the line deeper into her hair. It was longer than he’d first realized.

Her smile faded and the smooth skin at the bridge of her nose wrinkled. “My stepfather hit me,” she answered after a moment.

His fingers stilled. Any man who would hit a woman was a piece of shit that deserved to be locked away in a deep, dark cell. One with fungus, and mold, and rats the size of beach balls.

“It was a long time ago.” She shut her eyes, but not before he glimpsed the gathering of tears.

The sight of her beautiful, expressive eyes so pained made him want to ram her stepfather’s head into the wall. He hadn’t meant to fuck up the mood. “You don’t have to talk about it. But if you ever want to, I’m here.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a brief, forced smile. “It’s in the past.”

Is it? From the look on her face, it didn’t seem that way. Physical scars were one thing. I ought to know. The less obvious emotional ones could embed themselves in a person’s soul and never let go. He, better than most, also understood that if someone didn’t want to talk about their grief, there was no forcing it out of them.

He clenched his jaw. He was a shithead of the highest order for putting her anywhere near a guy like Mark Pritchard. It tore at his guts like a jagged knife. After getting a glimpse of her childhood, it ripped at him even worse.

“Tess, we need to talk about what happened yesterday.” She stiffened visibly. “I realize Alabama’s a big state, but I have to ask. Did you know any of those men?”

“No.” She quickly averted her gaze, which only made him feel guiltier.

“The man who touched you—Mark Pritchard—he’s trash. If I’d known he would be there, I never would have allowed you to make the delivery. I would have found some other way to make it happen.”

Her eyes widened, and she sat up. “You know his name? This—this Pritchard?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s a goddamn child molester. A rapist.” He shoved a hand through his hair, staring at the wall as he remembered every twisted, sordid detail of the man’s criminal record. “Along with Harley Gant, Pritchard’s right at the top of the ATF’s shit list. Back then, he preferred young teenage girls, but no one ever pressed charges and stuck around to see them through. Apparently, he’s added women to his list. The way he touched you… You’ll never know how sorry I am about that.”

He drew in a slow, calming breath. Sorry didn’t cut it. If anyone tried to hurt her again, he’d kill them.

She rested her hand in the center of his chest. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“The hell it wasn’t.” He clasped her hand, drawing it to his mouth and kissing her fingers. “Is there anything else those guys said to you that would help us figure out what their plans are?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I swear I would tell you if they had.”

“I do have some good news,” he said. “Because of what you did for Jesse yesterday, the prosecutor won’t be filing charges against him. He can leave as soon as he’s well enough to travel.”

His heart sank. The beatific smile on her face meant his fears would be realized.

When Jesse leaves, she’ll go with him.

“You know,” he said, catching a long, curly strand of her hair between his fingers, “you and Jesse could stay here. While he recuperates,” he added quickly, not wanting to make it seem as if he was asking her to move in. Would that be so bad?

Christ, he didn’t know. Yeah, I do. It wouldn’t be bad at all. It would be fan-fucking-tastic.

“Think about it.” He nuzzled the curve of her neck. “You’ll have the house to yourself most of the time. I won’t be here much until we figure out what Pritchard and Gant’s target is.” He lay next to her, skimming his hand up the curve of her waist to cup her breast. She sighed as he blew in her ear. “Gant may be heading to Jersey to meet Pritchard, which means I’ll be working even longer hours. I promise I’ll find time for us.”

Tess’s body stilled, and her eyes widened. “What did you say?”

He frowned at the shock on her face. “That I’ll be working long hours for a while.”

“No.” Her nails dug into his biceps. “Did you say Gant is coming here? To New Jersey?”

He drew back, repositioning his weight on one elbow. The shock on her face had been replaced by something else. Stark, naked fear. He tipped her chin up with his finger. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” When she didn’t, the same gut feeling he’d had days ago slapped him upside the head.

There was something she wasn’t telling him.

…

Tess twisted the sheet in her hand.

She wanted to confide in Eric, but he’d just said that Jesse was in the clear, and it was her responsibility to make sure neither Eric nor the prosecutor changed their mind.

I can’t tell him anything.

“Tess?” He stared at her with more than a hint of suspicion in his eyes. “Something’s been bothering you since last week. Whatever it is, I can help. If it’s a problem, we can fix it.”

A cry of despair nearly bubbled from her throat. No, it can never be fixed.

Realizing that she wore her emotions on her face like an open book for him to read and dissect, she needed to redirect his line of questioning.

She slid her hands up and down his biceps, gratified when goose bumps prickled his skin. “I’m just worried.” That was, in fact, the absolute truth. A second later, the rest of the lie she concocted rolled off her tongue. “You’ve been after this man for years. I’m afraid of what will happen when you finally confront him.” That also wasn’t a lie. She was worried for Eric’s safety. “He murdered your friends and almost killed you. I don’t want to see him finish what he started.”

“He won’t.” Muscles in Eric’s cheeks flexed. “I will.”

“Please be careful. Gant is dangerous. You said so yourself,” she added quickly. “When he realizes you—the one agent he didn’t kill that day—are living right here, he’ll come after you.” Pritchard, too.

It shouldn’t have been such a shock to learn that Eric had encountered Pritchard before. Eric had been stationed in Birmingham, after all. He’d asked her directly if she knew Pritchard, and she’d lied to his face. Not telling him before he’d asked the question was bad enough—a lie by omission. Either way, as soon as he heard the audio at the barn, he would know the truth. Everything about her being here, in Eric’s house and in his bed, was built on lies.

“That’s exactly what I’m counting on.” A fierce gleam lit the icy blue of Eric’s eyes. “Two teams of agents followed Pritchard and the other men to a hotel in Chester. Eventually, Gant will show his face there and the second he does, I’ll know it. That’s exactly where I’m starting my shift today.”

Please, no. Things were on the verge of spiraling out of control. All the elements of her past were about to converge. When they collided, there would be one heck of an explosion, and they’d all be caught in the fallout.

“Now,” he said, cupping her face. “You were about to tell me what’s been upsetting you?”

She stiffened. “I was?” So not. Apparently, he wasn’t about to back off. Her only option was more diversion, and there was only one she could think of.

Tess slid her hands up his long arms, over his thick shoulders to the back of his neck, and drew him down for a sweet, promise-filled kiss. He shifted on top of her, cradling her head as he took control and swept his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

His erection pressed against the top of her thighs, and she parted her legs, allowing him to settle against her dampening folds.

If only this could last.

The doorbell pealed.

Tiger raced from the room, clumping down the stairs, barking with every step.

Eric grumbled, lifting his head to suckle at her breast. She arched off the bed, hooking her legs over the backs of his thighs.

“Don’t you have to get that?” she gasped as he tugged on her nipple with his teeth.

“If it was urgent,” he said around her nipple, “they’d call or text.”

His cell phone on the bedside table vibrated, and he grumbled louder as he reached for the offending device and glared at the screen. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

“What is it? Is it Gant?” She held her breath. That moment would come, and all too soon, but she’d hoped and prayed for more time.

“No. In a completely different way, just as bad.” He rose from the bed, grimacing. “It’s my sister. She’s outside.”