Crystal was thoroughly impressed by her witness. She protected everyone with the same integrity. However, it wasn’t uncommon for her to be charged with keeping a criminal alive to testify against an even bigger criminal. Low-level criminals sometimes turned against their bosses. There was always a story behind the reason that often times ended up being about self-preservation. The low-level criminal had messed up, and then his or her head ended up on the chopping block. Or their family was threatened. WITSEC was self-preservation for those types.
Then there were innocent folks who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, causing them to witness a crime in process. Protecting someone who hadn’t asked for any of this always hit Crystal square in the chest.
The vehicle in front moved up, so Crystal did the same. She rolled down her window. The food smell filled the cab of the Tahoe and made her stomach growl.
And then there was Brewer. He had experience with war. He’d unwittingly gone to work for a criminal, figured it out, and then turned state’s witness to lock the bastard behind bars for the rest of his life.
Brewer had to be fully aware that he could be hunted long after the trial. Crane had long arms, in a manner of speaking, and a man like him would lose all street credibility if he allowed Brewer to get away with testifying and then staying alive.
All Brewer had in the world was his aunt, who was safely tucked away. He could go into the program when the trial was all said and done. He could be given a new identity, a new job, a new lease on life.
Or—and this was the most likely scenario—he could disappear all by himself. He could disappear off the grid. She had no doubt he would survive. There were still remote places in America where a person could go to get lost. Then there was Canada. He could set up camp in the vast wilderness there. Facing wildlife had to be more appealing than always looking over his shoulder for someone in the scumbag organization he’d worked for to find him and kill him.
Would he be able to walk away from his aunt? Leave her without knowing if she would be all right? He wouldn’t be able to afford twenty-four-hour security. Not even if he handed over his entire paycheck while he slept on the soil and ate from the land. With her age and general health, he wouldn’t be able to take her with him.
“Hey,” he said to her, breaking through the noise in her head.
She looked over at him. He nodded toward the front of the Tahoe. Oh. Right. She’d been so lost in thought she didn’t realize it was her turn to move up.
After paying for the food and drinks, she pulled up and then found a parking spot.
“Mind if we eat right now?” she asked, not waiting to dig into one of the bags.
“I was thinking the same thing,” he said with a smile that most likely had women forming lines for the chance to spend time with him.
For the next few minutes, nothing mattered but devouring burgers and fries.
Since she hated the smell of food lingering in a vehicle, she grabbed the bags and then headed to the trash can positioned next to the door of the fast-food joint. From the cab, she heard Brewer protest, saying he could do it. She waved him off, needing to stretch her legs a bit. Plus, she was stalling for time.
No magical ideas came to her on the walk back and forth, but it was still nice to get fresh air.
“What had you so quiet in the line earlier?” Brewer asked after she reclaimed her seat.
Crystal might as well come clean. “I was just thinking about how a lot of the witnesses I protect come to me in order to save themselves. I’m the lesser of two evils, if that makes sense.”
He nodded that it did.
“And here you are truly placing yourself in harm’s way in order to do the right thing,” she said.
Risking a glance, she could have sworn his cheeks flooded with embarrassment. It was fleeting, and he regained composure within seconds.
“It’s the right thing to do,” he said. “It’s not hard.”
“Oh, but it is,” she countered. “And you deserve credit for being an honorable person.”
He sat there quiet for a long moment. “I had a lot to make up for from my youth.”
With his father treating Brewer like a punching bag instead of a person, she was surprised all the goodness hadn’t been beaten out of him. She’d come across plenty of folks in her line of work who used a bad childhood as the reason they’d turned to crime.
Everyone had a choice. Everyone experienced trauma in one way or the other. Everyone had the ability to determine right from wrong.
So, she never let someone off the hook easily.
“Since we’re talking about the past,” he hedged. “Do you ever wonder what your life would have turned out like if your mom was still alive?”
“No,” she said, surprised at how quickly he’d turned the tables on her. “Why would I? It would only be a waste of time.”
He nodded, but it was more like concession.
“My dad was another story,” she continued. “I made up all kinds of stories in my head about why he had to leave, like he was some kind of saint who was out making the world a better place and had to keep us in a secure location. I used to wake up on my birthdays certain the man would walk through the door with an armload of presents. I gave him all kinds of jobs. Adventurer. There were times when I decided he couldn’t contact me because he was in some kind of remote jungle, saving someone’s life. He was always the hero who would ride in on the white horse someday to rescue us.”
Brewer reached over the console and took her by the hand. Hers was small by comparison. The moment of silence between them after her skin’s reaction to his touch felt like the most intimate moment of her life.
How could that be?
Since this man possessed superpowers that scared the hell out of her, she pulled her hand back and thanked him.
This time, when he nodded, she saw hurt in his eyes.
“We should get back on the road,” she said. “It’s a mistake to sit in one place too long.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice sounded gruff now. His deep timbre sent warmth all through her body. Even now. Even when his voice was clipped and there was a trace of hurt in his tone.
Had another wall come up between them?
BREWER HAD NO idea why Crystal had withdrawn her hand but after making physical contact decided the move was probably for the best. Electrical aftershocks still rocked his hand and arm even after a minute passed.
“Do you consider yourself an outside person?” Crystal asked.
“I can camp with the best of ’em. Why?” Was she about to ditch the Tahoe and head for the woods? They were in Dallas, so there were no mountains. Everything here was flat, which worked to their advantage. No twisty roads to make them worry about something or someone lurking around the next bend. No fog to blind them until they were right up on someone. And not many trees to hide behind.
There were, however, wide-open skies. Even at night, he felt the openness. And there were vehicles everywhere, day and night. It didn’t matter. Someone was on the roads, making it easier to blend in.
The Tahoe had blacked-out windows despite the otherwise soccer-mom look. Glancing at the fast-food line, there’d been exactly three Tahoes with soccer emblems on the back window along with the names of the players scrolled underneath.
If Brewer ever had kids, their names would not be stamped on the back of the family vehicle. It seemed like the easiest way to get his kid stolen. The kidnapper already had the kid’s name and some information about him or her. The more information a perp had, the easier it would be to convince the kid that they already knew each other. Or that the perp knew the kid’s parents.
Brewer caught himself right there and stopped the train of thought. Him with a kid? He’d never once considered it. Karma was hell, and he’d racked up too much bad karma during his youth. His own kid would most likely have personality traits that would be payback.
Plus, he’d never once envisioned himself as a father. His bad genes needed to die with him. And now that he wasn’t a whole man any longer, he couldn’t imagine anyone would want to spend their life with him.
“I was thinking we could find a spot, park, and lean the seats back,” she said. “The problem is going to be finding a place out of the way enough not to draw attention.”
“Or we could do it the other way,” he stated. “We could find a small neighborhood that has cars lined up on the streets and slip in between a couple of big trucks.”
“That would be Garland or Richardson,” she said with a spark in her voice that shouldn’t have caused the knot in his chest to tighten as much as it did.
Adding to Crystal’s positive traits was her voice. She had the kind of laugh that was like waking up to a spring morning after a rain shower, the air clean and crisp.
Before he tripped down that rabbit hole, he cleared his throat and grounded himself in the reality that she was there as his protection from a ruthless criminal.
Brewer glanced at the rearview mirror and could have sworn he recognized someone a couple of cars back. “We might have picked up a tail.”
Crystal muttered a curse. “I made a mistake keeping us in the area too long.” She smacked the wheel with her right palm. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Was she always so hard on herself?
“We’re a team,” he corrected. “Your mistakes are my mistakes. Got it?”
“We can talk about that later,” she said, cutting a hard right at the next light as it turned red. “Let’s see if this sonofabitch follows.”
The vehicle made the turn, squealing the tires as it rounded the corner.
“At least we know what we’re dealing with now,” she said. “I need to call this in and get some help.”
“Or we could handle this on our own.”
“You’re not used to following protocol,” she said. “I get that. But my job is on the line, and it’s all I have right now. I won’t risk it.”
Crystal cut a hard left, entering a quiet neighborhood. A cul-de-sac?
Brewer grunted. “Ever hear of soldiers following orders?”
“Of course,” she admitted.
“They’re not called suggestions for a reason,” he quipped, more offended than he probably should’ve been. Hell, everything put his guard up since the blast. A little voice in the back of his mind asked if he was starting to get tired of always being tense. The answer would be yes.
Being chased brought back a flood of memories. Brewer reached for the grab handle and then wrapped his fingers around it until his knuckles turned white.
“Everything all right over there?” Crystal asked after glancing over at him.
Pride kept him from admitting just how not okay he was right now. “Fine.”
“What’s happening, Brewer?”
“Nothing.”
“We can’t work well together as a team if you lie to me or keep me in the dark,” she countered.
Damn. She was right. He knew it. But opening up right now would lead to a whole can of worms being dumped out when she needed to focus.
“I can handle it,” he reassured. “But yeah, a lot’s going through my head right now.” It was the best way to describe what was happening. Flashes, memories, panic. Those three words instantly came to mind as a fresh wave of guilt assaulted him. Stay in the present, Brewer.
This was his cross to bear since he was the one to survive when the others hadn’t. He reached down for the strap of his rucksack. Rubbed it in between his thumb and forefinger on his left hand. And then had to repeat the move with his right hand. Next, he touched the dashboard with one hand and then the other before reaching for the grab handle again.
The urge to continue what he’d just done in a repetitive cycle was almost overwhelming.
“Whatever is going on is okay with me,” Crystal said in a calm, reassuring voice. “You don’t have to talk about it. I just want you to know that I’m here if you change your mind or if talking helps.”
Man, was he embarrassed to admit the level of psychosis battling it out inside him. More than anything, he wanted to repeat the touch cycle. The fact that he’d stopped himself from touching everything in sequence revved up his stress.
He glanced at the side-view mirror as a pair of headlights came charging toward them. “You have bigger problems to worry about right now instead of what’s going on inside my head.”
Crystal checked her rearview and muttered the exact same curse he was thinking. “Hold on, okay?”
It was dark on the street she’d turned down save for one streetlight at the curve of the cul-de-sac.
How the hell was she going to get them out of this mess with his brain being absolutely no help?
Take a deep breath, Brewer.