Chapter Ten

Declan woke instantly to the muted ringing of his cell phone. He’d turned the sound down before he crashed so it wouldn’t wake Kenzie or Jamal. He reached for it on the side table while he slid from the covers. He glanced at the bed. Jamal was sound asleep between them, his arms and legs all akimbo, but Kenzie had also woken up. He nodded to her before checking the screen. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Mr. Elliot? It’s Detective Spears with the DPD. I found your number on Detective Fuller’s desk. Wherever you are, you need to get out of there now. Your location might’ve been compromised.”

Instantly vigilant, he jumped to his feet. “Why? What happened?”

Alerted to the tone in his voice, Kenzie gently shook Jamal awake and they climbed out of the other side of the bed. They’d worn their clothes and shoes for this specific reason. The bags were packed and resting beside the door. He was already moving in that direction.

“Fuller’s been murdered, and his partner Lyons is missing.”

Oh, damn. Declan closed his eyes. “How?”

“It was violent. He was tortured. I don’t know for sure whoever did this was looking for you three, but I don’t want to take any chances. It’s bad. They gave him a Columbian necktie.”

Declan winced. The method of execution was brutal. A person’s neck was slit horizontally and then their tongue was pulled through the opening, hence the necktie moniker.

“It’s one of the Dog’s signature kill methods. The Eighty-Sixers must’ve hooked up with them.”

“We’re leaving now.”

“You’d better get rid of the phone you’re using. They might be able to track it. Call me when you can so I’ll know you’re safe.” He rattled off his extension and Declan committed it to memory. “When you call, I’ll keep you updated on this end.”

He disconnected and headed to the bathroom and the complimentary sewing kit he’d spotted in there earlier. Using a pin, he popped the slide open on his phone and withdrew his SIM card.

“Declan? What is it?”

He turned to Kenzie standing in the doorway. “We need to leave now.”

He tossed the SIM in the toilet and flushed it, making sure the small disk disappeared down the pipes. Then he smashed the phone and scraped the pieces in the trash can.

Kenzie was holding Jamal’s hand as they waited for him by the door. “I go out first.” After flipping off the lights, he eased the curtain aside. A few people were milling about in the late afternoon, but none looked like gang members. Carefully opening the door, he checked for any suspicious vehicles or people, finding none. He motioned for Jamal and Kenzie to come out. The motel was shaped in an L. He didn’t know how much time they had or where to go on short notice. He didn’t want to get caught on the road. He led them along the sidewalk to the other section of rooms, pausing in a breezeway with an ice machine. He tested a handle on a door, surprised when it opened. Finding a light, he discovered a room full of housekeeping carts and supplies. He snatched a key from one of the carts. Someone had left their universal key that opened every door in the motel in an unlocked supply room. Didn’t that make him feel safe?

“You two stay in here out of sight. I’m going to procure another room for us to use.” He started to hand Kenzie the weapon. “You know how to use it?”

“I’m a single woman living in New York City. Of course, I can fire a gun.”

He smiled at her sass and went in search of a place to hide out. He wanted to find a room with a view of their old one. Whoever killed Fuller might not be after them, but he wanted to keep watch in case. The curtains were open on the first window he passed, which was the end unit. He used the key to unlock the door then glanced across the parking lot. It had an optimum view of their old room. It didn’t have the king-sized bed Jamal originally requested, but two double beds instead. They’d have to do. After checking to make sure no dubious vehicles had appeared, he went to retrieve the two and hustle them inside.

Oblivious to the danger, Jamal asked, “Can I watch TV?”

He didn’t want to scare him and letting him watch television seemed the best course of action. “Sure.”

Kenzie started to pull the curtains, but he stopped her. “In case anyone looks in, I want them to think the room’s empty. I’ll go back to the storage area and grab some blankets and pillows to make a bed on the bathroom floor. If someone comes, I need you and Jamal to hide out in there.”

Kenzie nodded, her eyes wide with worry. He had the insane urge to kiss her, to reassure her he wouldn’t let anything happen to either one of them. He’d give up his life first. Before he opened his mouth and spouted words he had no business thinking, let alone saying, he slid outside and rounded the corner, finding the items he was looking for. He hit the jackpot with a shelf of snacks for the vending machines. He didn’t usually indulge in junk food and technically this might be considered stealing, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He didn’t want to risk running out to get something to eat, leaving Kenzie and Jamal alone. They’d left the box of food Detective Fuller secured for them in the old room.

After filling a pillowcase with bags of salty chips, pretzels, candy bars and bottles of water, he lugged his bounty back to their room.

Kenzie took the bedding from his arms. “You’ll tell me what’s going on?”

He glanced at Jamal to make sure his attention was elsewhere. “Soon.”

She nodded and retreated to the bathroom to make up a bed for later. He secured the locks on the door and jammed the desk chair under the handle for good measure.

When she returned, he dumped the food items out and they each selected their favorites. He sat where he could watch their old room. Covered in cheese crumbs, Jamal smiled. “I could get used to eating like this.”

“Well, don’t,” Declan told him. “It’s fresh fruits and vegetables once we’re home.”

Jamal’s smile faded and he gazed at Declan with guarded hope. “Did you mean it when you said I get to live with you? You weren’t just saying that?”

“You really do.” He hoped it was true. He wasn’t sure if there were any other long-lost relatives who might crawl out of the woodwork to claim him. He didn’t even know about Jamal’s dad or if he was in the picture. But he’d do everything in his power to make it happen.

Jamal launched at Declan and he caught him, hugging him tight. “You get cheese doodles on me and you’re in trouble, little man.”

Jamal laughed wickedly, wiggling his orange fingers in Declan’s face.

“Go wash up before you stain the few clothes we have left.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye had him swiveling back to the window as a car drove slowly down the parking lot. It was a beige sedan with dark windows. It pulled into a space close to their old room. He was about to tell Kenzie to retreat to the bathroom when the back doors opened and two kids jumped out, bobbing up and down as they pointed to the playground.

He released his breath as Jamal returned and settled back on the bed. They found a Minion show to watch from the free movie channel. Declan helped Kenzie clean up the empty wrappers and bottles, and they dumped the trash in the basket in the bathroom. He’d need to straighten the comforter on the bed Jamal was sprawled on, too, so the room looked unoccupied.

One hour passed into two as the sequel started to play. Though he’d managed a couple of hours of sleep earlier in the day, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open through the movie. Daylight was fading and there’d been no gang sightings. Maybe Fuller’s murder had nothing to do with them. Or maybe they were waiting for the cloak of darkness to make their move. He hoped it was the former, but he was betting on the latter.

Jamal fell asleep during the third movie. Declan slid his arms under him and carried him to the bed Kenzie made on the floor in the bathroom. He hated to turn off the light in case Jamal woke up, but he didn’t want the illumination to draw attention. It would spill beneath the closed door.

“Here.” Kenzie maneuvered around him to plug in a nightlight and then doused the overhead. When he eased the door closed, the light wasn’t visible.

“We picked it up at the department store,” she explained. “He said he liked the dog, but I was pretty sure it was because he needed the light to sleep.”

“Good thinking.” She was a natural with Jamal and he clearly adored her.

It was completely dark out now. Declan straightened the comforters on both beds and scanned the room for any items out of place. There was another chair in the corner, and he tugged it into position until he could view the parking lot and their old room. Kenzie eased to the edge of the bed beside him.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?”

She crossed her legs. “I’m not tired. Tell me what happened. Why did we need to leave the old room?”

“Detective Fuller was murdered.”

She covered a gasp with her hand. “Oh, no. When? How?”

“I’m not sure when. Not too long ago. His throat was slit.” He left out the part where the tongue had been pulled through the opening. She didn’t need that visual. He wished he could erase it from his mind. “His partner is missing, too.”

“Who called you?”

“Detective Spears. He works on the gang task force. He wasn’t sure whoever killed Fuller was after us but—”

He broke off when headlights slashed into the room and four separate vehicles squealed into the parking lot. He jumped to his feet and scooted the chair back in place. He and Kenzie watched as a dozen men piled out with guns blazing and headed directly for their old room. They busted in the door and funneled inside.

That left no doubt. “They are looking for us.”

#

Excitement surged through Luis Gomez at the prospect of finally capturing the elusive Jamal West. How hard was it to grab one sniveling child? You’d think the kid was the reincarnation of Houdini himself for the way he kept disappearing. Luis hated having to bring in anyone else, but he and Blaze were having a heck of a time tracking him down, especially after the black-haired bitch nailed Blaze with the car door. He still wasn’t fully recovered. Neither was he from the fork in the leg. The wound throbbed and now it was festering and red. He’d make sure the kid paid for the pain and suffering he’d caused.

He hadn’t wanted to call in any of their homeboys for backup. He needed to be seen as the new boss and asking for help would seriously dent his leadership creds. Blaze had a cousin in the Detroit Original Gangsters, so they’d called in the locals for reinforcements, and though they didn’t give details on why they wanted the boy, the other gang had been more than eager to assist. They had a contact in the police department who fed them the information on the detective in charge of the case. It’d been one of the Dogs who tortured the cop for details on where to find West. He’d even taken pictures of his kill. Apparently, the detective hadn’t given up the information easily. They’d grabbed his partner, too, and used her as leverage. When the man refused to talk, they’d started in on her and soon, he was singing like a canary. Luis had no idea what happened to the puta. He didn’t care. She wasn’t his concern.

As they bumped into the parking lot, he hissed when his throbbing leg bounced on the seat. He really ought to have it looked at, but he hated hospitals. Doc Smithers could check it out when they returned to Chicago, hopefully tonight. Doc had been an emergency room medic until he mixed pills and booze on the job and killed some big-name lawyer’s wife when he administered a fatal dose of a drug that stopped her heart. Smithers had been stripped of his license, spent a few years in the slammer and joined up with them when he was paroled.

Despite pain that had sweat beading on his forehead, Luis couldn’t keep his excitement down. Once they retrieved the information they needed, he was guaranteed as the new head of the Eighty-Sixers.

“We better have the little brat this time,” Blaze grumbled from the driver’s seat. “I want to go home.”

One thing Luis discovered on this trip was that Blaze was a big baby. He’d whined and moaned more than a toddler. Luis’s leg was about to fall off and you didn’t hear him complaining. Much. He’d considered naming Blaze as his second in command, but he needed someone who could handle the job. Blaze couldn’t even handle his own johnson. “We’ve got him.” He was sure of it.

Three cars filled with Dogs had followed them for the takedown. Overkill, but whatever. He told them that the woman, Mackenzie Bryant of New York, and man they now knew was Declan Elliot from, coincidentally, their hometown of Chicago, were expendable. Only the boy was to be kept alive.

He and Blaze would lead the charge into the room, with the Dogs at their back. Once they were out of their vehicles, he gave the signal and they rushed the room. Blaze used his size thirteen foot encased in worn Doc Martens boots to bust open the door. Luis flipped on the lights and leveled his gun to find the room—empty? His wound throbbed in sync with his rapidly rising heartbeat. “Check the bathroom,” he ordered Blaze.

They couldn’t have outwitted him again. He’d never lead the Eighty-Sixers if the others found out how hard it’d been to grab one stinking brat. They’d lose their confidence in him.

Blaze came out of the bathroom with fragments of plastic in his hand. “They’re gone, but this was in the trash.” He dumped the bits on the bed.

Luis examined the pieces. It’d been a cell phone once. They’d been warned. He turned and glared at the men behind him. Was it someone from the Dogs?

“They couldn’t have gone far. Check all around the buildings,” he ordered, knowing it was probably a waste of time. He’d been the one who insisted they wait until midnight to raid the room. He wanted darkness and the element of surprise on his side. Plus, it’d be easier to get in and out with the kid at night. If they’d come as soon as the Dogs gathered the intel, they might’ve caught him. Crucial leadership mistake.

As the others filed from the room, he scooped up the shards of plastic and hurled them against the wall. The damn kid foiled him again.

#

Kenzie truly felt like she was living out a plot in one of her client’s mystery novels. Things like burning houses, car bombs and now armed militias were common in the books. Not something that happened to her in her wildest dreams—or nightmares.

What started out as two men had grown to twelve, all looking for one little boy. She glanced at Declan’s strong profile, feeling safe despite the precarious circumstances. She’d take him over the dozen anytime.

Her attention snapped back to their old room. The men began pouring out splitting in different directions.

“Get down between the beds,” Declan urged. One look over her shoulder confirmed that several men were headed their way.

She’d dove for cover, rolling as close to the bed as possible so they wouldn’t spot her if they looked in the window. Declan’s big body dropped down beside her, startling a gasp from her as she rolled to face him.

“Shh,” he whispered, crowding close to her so his rock-hard body was like a comforting wall of strength. She concentrated on breathing evenly so panic didn’t cause her to hyperventilate. She had no doubt Declan could take out Blaze and Boomer easily, probably without breaking a sweat. But now that the numbers had quadrupled, they were seriously outnumbered.

WWSD? Storm would probably rip the door open, march outside with a pistol in each hand, taking out the bad guys right and left in a kickass pair of peep toe Louboutin’s with a five-inch heel. The fact that Kenzie was curled on the floor paralyzed with fear and struggling not to wet herself proved once again, she was no Shiloh Storm.

While Declan’s attention was focused on the impending threat, she concentrated on studying his rugged profile to keep her panic at bay. He was sporting a tempting five o’clock shadow that she wanted to rub her cheek against like a needy kitten. The heat pouring off him was like a steamy furnace, warming her chilled body. If he had an ounce of fat, it was hiding somewhere she couldn’t see. His muscles were completely ripped.

Spots of light flicked against the wall and faint sounds of voices could be heard outside. They were here. When the doorknob rattled, she grasped Declan’s arm. It was like clasping solid rock. Her breathing sped up, expecting for the door to fly open at any moment. Something clanged against the window. Were they going to break it? White spots danced against her eyelids. A soft touch against her cheek had her eyes popping open. Declan was staring at her as he brushed a tendril of hair off her face.

“Breathe,” he mouthed.

She exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding it in. He cupped her face, his thumb rubbing gently up and down. The move soothed her. She didn’t even flinch when the door rattled again. His strength and courage seeped into her. The voices grew faint as the group moved on.

Now her heart was racing for an altogether different reason. Though it was dark, muted light from the parking lot filtered inside. This close, she could feel his warm breath against her cheek. What would he do if she breached the tiny gap and kissed him? Storm certainly would’ve taken charge. Heck, she’d have him naked by now.

Declan read her mind because the next thing she knew, he was kissing her. Goodness was he kissing her. It wasn’t a tame, gentle first meeting of lips, nor a tentative exploration. This was raw and passionate, a raging inferno of lust and need and all-out carnal intent. It was hot and wet with tongues and teeth and sucking and groans. He was claiming her.

Maybe it was the rush from narrowly escaping certain death, but she had to touch him. It was crucial. Tugging his shirt from his jeans, she shoved it up to run her hands along his stomach and chest. She’d love to take time to explore every ridge and dip in his heavily muscled torso but need consumed her. When he lifted her shirt, shoved her bra out of the way and feasted on her breasts, it was all she could do to keep from screaming in pleasure. Forking her hand in his hair, she forced his head back up for another soul-searing kiss. His big palm slid inside her yoga pants and her back arched off the ground. The next she knew, he was jerking them down her legs. Somehow, he’d worked his jeans down his hips and sheathed himself in a condom before she realized what was happening. Maybe she should be worried it was too fast, but she wanted this as much as he did—if not more.

He clasped their hands together beside her head and gazed into her eyes and settled his weight over her. In one powerful thrust, he slid inside, and she couldn’t stop the gasp of joy. He covered her mouth to absorb the sound and then he was moving inside her. With her pants around her ankles, she couldn’t lock her legs around him to hold on for the most thrilling ride of her life.

A bomb exploded inside her, fireworks bursting behind her closed lids. Maybe it wasn’t wise to use a bomb as a euphemism since her rental car had been wrecked by one, but she kinda felt the same way. Destroyed, but in a good way. The encounter was life changing. She never knew she was capable of such extreme feelings of indescribable pleasure. He followed her, groaning his release against her ear as he ground his pelvis against hers, setting her off again. She’d never felt the intense, almost cataclysmic sensations that rocked her body. He was good. More than good. A superhero of sexual prowess.

She wasn’t a delicate flower and she appreciated that he didn’t treat her that way. He was big—in every way—and strong and virile. For the first time in her life, lying beneath Declan Elliot, former Marine and current security specialist, she felt like Shiloh Storm.

#

Declan rolled off Kenzie and flopped to his back beside her, one arm covering his face. He’d just had sex with her on the faded brown carpet of a second-rate motel with most of their clothes on. He’d barely attempted foreplay before he was sliding inside her. He never intended to have sex with her when he kissed her. He’d been trying to chase the fear from her eyes, prevent her from hyperventilating, assure her that he’d keep her safe. Instead, he’d attacked her like a teenager with no control. Still, he didn’t regret a moment. At least he’d had the sense to not strip both of them naked in case the gang returned, or Jamal ventured out of the bathroom.

Ever since he’d laid eyes on the raven-haired beauty, he hadn’t been able to think of anything but burying himself deep inside her. Now that he had, he longed to do it again. It was rapidly becoming an obsession. He was an addict. He wasn’t sure he could get enough of her. He wanted to apologize for jumping her like a randy teen. For the unfortunate location. For the roughness of the encounter. He hadn’t held back, giving her everything in him. She hadn’t seemed to mind. Her breathy moans, muffled screams and the deep grooves on his arms encouraged him on. Sweet agony gripped him when she clenched around him. It was all he could do to keep from roaring his release to the world. Jamal was asleep a few feet away, for Pete’s sake. The boy could’ve woken up and walked in on them. He’d have been no better than Jamal’s mother who sold her body for drugs, except he’d given in for a trip to paradise.

At the very least, he should remove the condom and tuck himself back inside his pants. Check on the activity outside. Danger lurked on the other side of a flimsy hollow-core door. What if the men decided to search every room in the motel? He’d be caught with his pants down—literally.

He glanced over at Kenzie and his body hardened again. Damn, she was breathtaking. Her pants were still around her ankles and her sumptuous breasts were on full display, made even more bewitching by the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Was she thinking the same things he was? That she couldn’t wait for round two. His body was primed and raring to go.

She hadn’t said anything. Had he been too rough? He started to ask when her voice broke the silence.

“Declan?”

He was almost afraid to answer. “Yeah?”

“Do we need to leave?”

Apparently, she hadn’t been thinking the same thing. And she hadn’t noticed the part of his body trying desperately to snag her attention. “No. Let’s get some rest. We should be safe for a few hours. I doubt they’ll come back.” He removed the condom and stuffed himself back in his jeans. No way was he attempting to zip up yet and risk a painful injury.

He almost cried real tears when Kenzie covered up her dazzling nudity. With a resigned sigh, he slowly sat up and checked outside. The Eighty-Sixer’s cars were gone, replaced by two police cruisers, along with a crowd of curious onlookers gathered outside their old room. Pushing to his feet, he disposed of the condom.

“I’ll make a call…” His head fell forward. He’d destroyed his cell phone. He didn’t have Noah Addison’s phone number memorized, or any of the COBRA Securities numbers. It wasn’t like he could ring information for anything but a general number for the headquarters. Why didn’t he think to write them down before smashing his phone to bits?

“Declan?” He turned at the soft whisper coming from the cracked bathroom door. “Is it safe to come out?”

He absolutely hated the terror in the young boy’s voice. He didn’t want Jamal to live in fear every day like when he was with his mother and brother. He wanted him settled into a life away from any violence where he was free to experience a happy, carefree childhood.

“Yes.”

Jamal jerked the door the rest of the way open and rushed out to embrace him. He would never tire of Jamal’s tender hugs. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really,” he said. “I kept waking up and it worried me when you guys weren’t with me. I knew you’d want me to stay in there, so I did.”

Declan winced. He hoped Jamal hadn’t heard their sexcapade. He’d tried to be quiet, but it wasn’t easy with the hottest woman he’d ever met beneath him.

Though he didn’t expect the gang to come back, he wasn’t willing to bet Jamal and Kenzie’s life on it, and he didn’t want to pull the curtains and announce that someone was inside, yet they couldn’t fall asleep on the beds. They’d be spotted if someone looked inside.

“How about we bring the pillows and blankets out here and camp on the floor between the beds?”

“All three of us?”

“Yes.”

“Fun!” Jamal dashed to the bathroom to gather the bedding.

He turned to Kenzie. Her clothing was back in order, but her swollen lips, whisker-burned cheeks and messy hair had him wanting to drag her down and have his way with her again. “Okay?” he asked.

“Better than,” she answered with a smile.

Oh heck to the no. That clenching in his gut had to be lust. It couldn’t be any deeper feelings. He barely knew her—except carnally.

Spinning around, he headed to help Jamal carry the pillows and blankets. Soon they arranged a cozy spot for the three of them to share. There wasn’t much room and the floor was about as comfortable as, well, a floor.

He was lying on his right side with his arm under his head, while Kenzie rested on her left side facing him. Jamal sprawled on his back between them. “Can someone tell me a story to help me sleep?”

“Sure,” Declan said. “Kenzie would love to tell you one.” He smirked at her narrowed glare.

“How about a tale about an angelic prince, a regal queen and the ogre that lives beneath the bridge?”

He had no doubt he was about to become the troll in the story. As she started the saga, he closed his eyes, mesmerized by the cadence of her voice. When her hand slipped into his above Jamal’s head, he felt peace for the first time in ages.

#

Declan woke feeling surprisingly rested and refreshed for having napped on a floor. Spectacular sex did that to a person, he supposed. He never slept in, even on weekends, but bright sunlight streamed in through the windows. He glanced at his watch, shocked to realize it was almost noon. His body must’ve really needed the down time.

With the dawning of a new day came the reminder that they were on their own now and had nowhere to go and no way to get there. They couldn’t trust the police. There was a good chance the gang had tortured his name from Fuller before they killed him, so using credit cards was out. He hadn’t stopped at the ATM before his trip, so he was low on cash. They might be well and truly screwed.

Easing from the blankets, he tried not to wake the other two as he headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he brushed his teeth and shaved the stubble, wishing he’d thought to do that last night before attacking Kenzie.

She was up when he emerged, and his steps faltered. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked first thing in the morning…er, afternoon. How she’d rocked his world off its axis last night. How he so badly wanted her to rock it again, right now in the shower, against the door, he didn’t care where, as long as she was in his arms. Before he could voice any of those thoughts and probably make a fool of himself, Jamal woke and jumped up from the makeshift bed.

“That was an awesome story, Kenzie. I fell asleep before the queen went to find the monster. Can you tell the rest of it tonight?”

She smiled widely, looking directly at Declan. “Sure. But I’ll warn you, it may not go well for the monster.”

Was he supposed to interpret that statement to mean he might not get a repeat of their nocturnal activities? He’d just have to deploy his wiles to change the queen’s mind.

Kenzie and Jamal took turns using the bathroom while he checked the activity outside. Yellow crime scene tape had been secured across the busted door of their old room, but the police were gone. A few people milled about, but none that looked like gang members. They needed to leave the motel, but he didn’t want to do so in broad daylight. They made a memorable trio. Stealth was the key. Now he just needed a plan.

“What’s the plan for today?” Kenzie asked, reading his mind. She munched on a brunch of stale pop-tarts and lukewarm water from the stash of vending machine booty he’d pilfered last night. She handed him a frosted strawberry pastry and he tore open the wrapper.

“I’m going to call my coworkers to come up with a plan of action.”

“Noah and Ethan?” Jamal asked around a mouth full of food.

“Yeah, but I don’t have my phone with their contact information.”

“I know Peyton’s number.”

“You do?”

His head bobbed, shaking crumbs free to cover his blue t-shirt. “I memorized it when I needed a ride to swim practice.”

“That’s awesome.” Declan stuffed the rest of the pop-tart into his mouth while grabbing the complimentary motel notepad and pen from the table. Jamal recited the number and he scribbled it down and then sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the receiver to dial. He was surprised when it went through. He figured he’d have to call collect or something. The motel must charge the calls to the rooms.

“Hello?”

“Peyton? It’s Declan Elliot.”

“Hi, Declan. It’s so good to hear your voice. I’m so happy you’ll be moving here with us.”

“Thanks. I’m excited, too.”

“Hi, Peyton!”

“Is that Jamal? Oh my gosh, is he with you?”

“He is, but it’s a long story I’ll explain later. I really need to speak with Noah, but I lost his number.”

“They have war games scheduled for this afternoon. His cell will be off, but I can head over there and find him.”

War games meant simulation exercises like ones used in the military to prepare for a variety of situations. They were used for training without actual combat to ensure readiness for the field. He’d participated in many during his Marine days and the ones COBRA Securities practiced were similar. Some of the drills included random targets popping out and you had a split second to decide if they were friend or foe. “No, that’s okay. If you can give me his number, I’ll leave a message for him to call me back.” He scribbled the digits down when she recited them.

“Is everything okay, Declan? Is Jamal in trouble?”

“I do have a situation here. I could use Noah’s help.”

“I don’t care to go pull him out of training.”

“Thanks, but it’s not necessary. We need to stay out of sight and right now we’re safe.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that,” Peyton murmured. “If he hasn’t called you when I see him, I’ll make sure he does. You can always call me back, too.”

“Thanks, Peyton. I appreciate it.”

“Tell Jamal I desperately miss him.”

“Will do.”

After he hung up, he scooted back against the headboard. He’d go stir crazy being locked away in a motel room for so long. He wanted to go for a run, but it wasn’t safe. Movement out of the corner of his eye had him scrambling off the mattress. “Go to the bathroom,” he ordered the other two as he crouched down between the beds.

A woman pushing a cleaning cart stopped in front of their window and checked the clipboard in her hand. Declan quickly scanned the room, happy to realize Kenzie had moved all their belongings into the bathroom with them. He turned back to the woman as she slid the clipboard in a pocket of her cart and then looked directly into the room. He ducked down, praying he’d hidden in time. When there was no pounding on the door or a key being slid in the lock, he chanced another look to discover she’d moved on. She’d been coming from the left, meaning she must’ve started at the far end and worked her way back, so she should be returning her cart to the storage room.

It hadn’t occurred to him that someone might rent the room for tonight. They needed to be prepared for any contingency. Kenzie had folded up the blankets they used last night and stacked them on the floor. They kept their packed bags by the door, so if someone did show up, he’d have to do some fast talking. Overslept the check-out time or something.

He called out that it was clear. Kenzie and Jamal emerged from the bathroom. Kenzie stuffed the remaining food items in one of the bags. Though it was supremely uncomfortable, he arranged the blankets on the floor between the beds so they could sit and watch television out of the line of sight from the window while they waited for Noah to call back.

He wasn’t tired, but the cartoons were lulling him to sleep. Jamal was sprawled on his stomach with his head in his hands and his feet in the air, his attention glued to the television. Declan had a feeling he’d become acquainted with Spongebob and Squidward and all their underwater friends soon.

If he was going to be Jamal’s guardian, he needed to keep him active. “Okay, everyone up.” He stood. “It’s time to get our blood pumping.” He made the mistake of looking at Kenzie, remembering how exquisitely she forced his blood to pump last night. Judging from the darkening of her eyes, she was thinking about the encounter, too.

Exercise. Focus on that. “Start with stretching and then we’ll ramp it up.”

After an hour of sweating through jumping jacks, pushups, sit-ups and a variety of muscle-building moves, the motel phone jangled. Kenzie disappeared into the bathroom and Jamal collapsed to the blanket on the floor with a tortured sigh while he answered.

“Declan, it’s Noah. I got your message. What’s up?”

“I’ve got a situation here.” He gave a quick rundown from Jamal’s frantic phone call and his subsequent flight to Detroit, the house fire, car bomb to the murdered detective.

“Damn, Declan, why didn’t you call me sooner? I can be on the next flight.”

“It’s not safe for you to come here. Heck, it’s not safe for us to be here. We need to get out of town.”

“Do you want to head this way?”

He did, but he’d heard the horror story of the compound being infiltrated by rebels a few weeks ago, and there was no way he’d bring trouble to their door before he officially started his job. These gangs were brutal and ruthless and wouldn’t hesitate to harm anyone in their path. “I think we’ll lay low and make our way back to Chicago where I can gather my things.” In other words, his weapons. “Maybe we can figure out what they’re after.”

“Ethan and I can meet you there.”

He exhaled a relieved breath. “That would be great. Thanks.” He could use all the help he could get.

“Give me the number where you’re staying. I’ll call you back soon.”

He rattled it off from the sticker on the phone and hung up. Ten minutes later, Spongebob was coercing him to sleep again. Kenzie emerged from the bathroom brushing her long hair until it hung like a silky black curtain around her shoulders. When she caught him staring and smiled, she looked like every fantasy he’d ever dreamed, and it was all he could do to keep from stalking over to her, tossing her on the bed and ravishing her. The ringing phone jerked him from his thoughts.

He grabbed the receiver. “Noah?”

“No, this is BeBe Davis.”

His voice softened. “Hey, BeBe, how are you?” He’d met the office manager during his training and fell in love with her, as had all the agents. She didn’t let the fact that she used a wheelchair slow her down at all. He’d never met anyone with more energy or zest for life. She was simply marvelous.

“A lot better than you, Declan. Noah told me some of what happened. Why didn’t you call me sooner? I could’ve helped you out. You’re one of us now.”

That warmed his heart. “Honestly, so much happened so quickly, I’ve barely had time to breathe.”

“Well, I’ve got you now. In about an hour, a black SUV will park in front of your motel room. You’ll find an untraceable phone in the console, and an envelope with some cash in the glove box. In the back will be supplies.” Weapons. “Noah said you need to stay off the grid, so the car or phone can’t be traced. He also wanted me to let you know that he and Ethan would head to Chicago in the morning to wait for your arrival. Please keep in touch with us so we know what’s happening.”

Declan cleared his throat. Though Eric would always be his brother, he’d found a real family. “I will. Thanks, BeBe.”

Kenzie was watching him when he disconnected. He repeated what BeBe told him as he jerked the curtains shut. He wasn’t sure who would be delivering the vehicle, but he didn’t want anyone to get a look at Kenzie or Jamal.

Her mouth gaped. “How did she arrange all of that so quickly?”

He shook his head. “I was warned not to ask. Some of the other agents swear she’s part Glenda the Good Witch or something. She works her magic in mysterious ways.”

“Thank goodness she’s on your side.”

Declan chuckled. “No kidding.”