August tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder and jammed his legs into pants. His sleep-deprived brain had quickly caught up. If Gigi was calling him in the middle of the night, she was certainly in danger.
“What happened? Where are you?”
He didn’t like the salty taste of fear filling his mouth. Nor did he like the way his heart banged against his ribcage and his hands trembled as he found his keys and shoved them in the pocket of his jeans.
“Um, at a truck-stop diner.” A shuddering breath came next. “They found me. I got away, but Joe, the marshal watching me, he’s . . . I think he’s dead.”
“I need an exact location.” He yanked a clean shirt over his head.
“I . . . I don’t know. I’ll ask.”
“No! Christ. Just sit tight. When did this happen?”
“A few hours ago. They came to the house in Wyoming—”
“Don’t say anything else. What kind of phone are you using?”
“Encrypted,” she answered without hesitation. “I had a go-bag packed. This line is secure.” Some strength and vitality injected her voice.
“How far are you from the scene?”
“Like I said, a few hours. I don’t think he followed us, but—”
“Who’s us?” he demanded.
“The trucker who picked me up.”
August sent his eyes toward the ceiling. One thing was for sure: Gigi had a guardian angel watching over her. “I guarantee you he followed you or is close. They wouldn’t let you get away after finally finding you all these months later.”
He whizzed around the room, grabbing his shit and throwing everything haphazardly into the suitcase now open on the bed. Meanwhile, his brain spun like a carousel. Gigi was in imminent danger. She couldn’t stay at the truck stop. The cartel was too close and he was too damn far away.
“Cheyenne, Wyoming,” Gigi blurted. “I just read it on the menu.”
“One sec.” He opened the Maps app on his phone and looked up the distance. “I’m an hour and a half away.” And for a second, that fact stunned him. What were the chances that he’d been led on a job so close to Gigi?
Slim. So fucking slim. Was it the Universe working in his favor? God showing him the way to the woman who’d stolen his heart and ruthlessly trampled on it? Maybe just some sick punishment to tease him. Regardless, he couldn’t overlook the fact that something had steered him to where Gigi would need him.
Which meant he had to get to her in time. For her to die at the cartel’s hand when he was almost—almost—within reach was too cruel a fate.
“What?” Gigi sputtered. “How?” Her confusion would have echoed his own if he hadn’t already accepted that destiny had crossed their paths.
“I’m on a job in Denver. Listen, I want you to take the phone to a waitress. Will you do that?”
“Huh?”
“Flag down your waitress and let me talk to her.”
“Okay . . . one sec.”
This might be the wildest thing he’d done for a client, but hell. Calling her an Uber was useless when she had nowhere to go. Besides, the cartel could easily get to Gigi before he did.
He had to outsmart them.
* * *
The cup of tea in Gigi’s hands barely warmed her icy skin. After the night she’d had, nothing short of lava would thaw the cold fear solidifying in her veins.
Time escaped her. Sitting in the manager’s office at the back of the restaurant with a piece of untouched pie made the surreal events even more so. It was too quiet back here. Her brain too loud for the cramped space.
Sounds replayed in her mind. Joe yelling to warn her, the door banging behind her, the barely audible yet oddly deafening wisp of the branches. She’d never get that last one out of her head.
And then the scream for help. Her own scream. In her head, it didn’t sound like hers.
Sherry, the sweet fifty-something server, poked her head into the office. “You okay, love?”
Gigi forced a smile. “Yeah, just fine.” As fine as a person could be when the grim reaper had promised to visit any second.
Whatever August had told Sherry had made her face pale. She’d swooped her arm under Gigi’s and escorted her to the back as soon as she hung up the phone.
“How long’s it been?” Grit scratched her eyeballs. She needed to sleep.
Sherry looked at her watch. “He should be here any minute. I’ll go keep an eye out.” She winked and shut the door.
Gigi blew a breath through tight lips. Numerous times, her gaze had wandered to the phone in her hand. August had instructed her not to make any calls despite the line being safe. But man. This was the first time in months she’d held a phone. And the temptation to dial Ivy was almost too great. She’d recited her sister’s phone number in her head over and over. Waiting for the random opportunity to present itself.
Now it was here and she had August’s fearful words echoing through her mind.
Don’t call anyone.
Hurried footsteps slapped against the linoleum floor outside the door. Gigi froze.
Surely if it was the cartel, they’d be . . . noisier. Probably gunfire.
The door opened and Gigi shot to her feet. Her knees wobbled beneath her weight, her brain foggy and off-kilter from being awake so long.
August towered in the doorway. His blond hair was mussed, and thick stubble hid the chiseled jaw she’d committed to memory. He wore a hoodie and jeans. His hands were balled into fists, as if ready to pummel anyone who might be near her. His eyes found hers and his face changed. The hard line of his mouth softened and the murderous glint in his stare melted.
He opened his arms. Without a second thought, she catapulted across the room and burrowed her face against the soft material of his sweater. Tears clouded her eyes. She didn’t dare pull away for fear he’d see them. Because if he did, she’d never stop crying. She’d bottled up far too many emotions where August was concerned.
She inhaled his masculine scent. He smelled of spice and lime, and home. He represented her past. A previous life she ached to have back.
A life that was dead and gone.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Sherry said, from somewhere behind August. Gigi hadn’t even noticed her. August’s massive frame must have been blocking the slight woman.
August brought his palm to the back of her head, and his other wrapped around her waist. “My god. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to you first.” His words were gruff. Clearing his throat, he moved his fingers through her hair. “It’s all right. You’re fine now.”
She nodded. Caution told her to step back. To keep her guard up before she did something really stupid like fall for this gentle giant again. Except moving out of his proximity was impossible. Her traitorous body refused to leave his warmth.
A tremor shook her shoulders. It’d been so long since she had human contact. Joe sure wasn’t the hugging type, and she’d have been weirded out if he’d tried. August’s embrace filled a void in her heart she hadn’t known was there until now. Pulling her own arms off would’ve been easier than pushing away from him.
He didn’t let go. His thumb drew small circles on her back. Then the hand cupping her head slid to her chin and tilted her face back to meet his gaze. “Did they touch you?”
She swallowed. The action was much harder with her head at such a sharp angle. “No.” She cleared her throat. “Just pushed me into a wall and pulled my hair.” Her gaze flicked away and back. “He was going to slit my throat.”
August’s green eyes darkened. “That won’t happen again.”
Emotion welled inside her. This was the August she’d fallen for. The devoted, mysterious black-ops soldier. His passion and strength had stolen her breath, and even after all this time, it still did.
Numerous times she’d wondered how things would’ve played out if she hadn’t met Todd.
If she’d waited for August . . .
She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. “What do we do now?”
His gaze lowered to her mouth and his hand twitched beneath her jaw. He moved his fingers to her bicep but separated their bodies. “We get the hell out of here.”
She nodded. Part of her wanted more answers. Where would they go? It’d already been established that she couldn’t hide from the cartel. That they were hungry for her blood.
Would August try to pass her off to the U.S. marshals again? She couldn’t bear the thought. She’d finally gotten a sliver of home. An oversized slice of hunky man cake that she couldn’t afford to eat but that she wasn’t willing to give up, either.
Grabbing her bag, she dropped her phone inside and let August lead her down the hall. The scent of coffee and oil frying hung thick in the air, tossing her stomach. They reached the dining area, which featured a wall of windows letting in lights from the streetlamps. The edges of the dark sky were starting to fade, promising the sun would rise on a new day.
Hopefully not her last.
Gigi’s gaze landed on a dark sedan parked across the lot. A man sat in the driver’s seat, his gaze laser focused on the windows. Her heart lurched. She skidded. August frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s here,” she whispered.
He snapped his head toward the windows, following her gaze. A curse fell from his lips. He backed her up behind the counter.
Sherry approached. “Everything all right—”
“Get everyone out,” August commanded.
The waitress gasped. “It’s the breakfast rush.”
Pressure built against Gigi’s temples as she watched the assassin slide from the vehicle. She instantly recognized his tall form. He wore the ski mask rolled up on his head, and it now looked like a beanie. He’d changed into a loose-fitting gray sweater, undoubtedly to cover his wound.
He stared. She doubted he could see her halfway stationed behind the till and August, but something had alerted him to her presence.
Once again, she had the freaky sensation that he could smell her.
“Unless you want people to get hurt, clear the place,” August said, through gritted teeth.
“I’m going to need everyone to exit,” Sherry called over the din. Her voice droned on in a vague explanation of their emergency.
Fright bit into Gigi’s muscles. “August,” she said, her voice trembling. He was already steering her back down the hall to the manager’s office.
“Down!” he shouted. His hand clamped on her waist as he pulled her to the ground.
Crack, crack!
Glass shattered. A sharp cry sounded, and Gigi looked back to see Sherry sink to the floor, her eyes round with anguish. Blood pumped from a wound on her chest.
“Oh my god,” Gigi cried. She crawled out of August’s hold and clasped Sherry’s hand.
The woman’s soft brown eyes found Gigi’s. Her breathing was labored, her mouth wide with silent cries. August had medical training. Maybe he could help her.
“It’s okay,” Gigi rasped. “You’re going to be okay.” The words were moot, only a pathetic effort to ease Sherry’s pain. Deep down, she knew there was nothing a medic could do now. Crimson blood drenched the woman’s white shirt and apron.
August blasted off several shots. “Move!” He seized Gigi under her arms and hauled her to her feet. Sherry’s fingers slipped from her grip.
“Wait!” Gigi jerked out of his hold. “We can’t just leave her,” she wailed. She reached for Sherry again, but August closed his hand around her bicep.
“It’s too late for her.” His tone was curt as he towed her down the hall. He shoved her into the office.
She stumbled forward and her hands connected with the desk. She wheeled around, fear on her tongue.
August stood at the door, his face grim and hard. His boyish demeanor gone. This was the soldier. The black-ops man who killed without a second thought.
“I’m sorry.” His apology came out rough and lacking emotion. “My job is to protect you and that’s what I’m doing. Barricade the door and don’t let anyone in except me. Understand?”
She inhaled through her nose, the sudden rush of oxygen dizzying. “Yes.” The word came out clipped but missing the sharp sting her tongue wanted to deliver. Now wasn’t the time. The longer he stood here fussing over her, the greater the chances someone else would die. “Just go.”
August gave one nod and slammed the door shut. Gigi swiped the tears from her cheeks and shoved one of the chairs beneath the door handle, as August had instructed. She covered her mouth with her fingers and her shoulders shook.
Sherry hadn’t deserved this. Hadn’t needed to get involved. Now the poor woman was dead because of Gigi. If she’d gone somewhere else, had just hidden in the wilderness rather than endanger innocent people, Sherry would be alive.
Screams erupted from outside the door. Gigi brought her hands to her ears and closed her eyes, wishing she could block out the noise.
Please, God, don’t let anyone else die.