Sun streamed through the windshield. Gigi’s eyes were heavy as she fought to keep the rays from burning her retinas. They’d been driving for about five hours and were passing through Rock Springs, Wyoming. The air was thick with fatigue. Her own and August’s. His arm was slumped on the console between them, and he was constantly rubbing his face. He seemed to be struggling to stay awake.
“We’re gonna stop for a bit,” he said. “I need to sleep. I was up most of the night. We’ll rest and get back on the road tomorrow.”
She nodded, for once not disagreeing with him. Rest sounded like a stellar idea, and hopefully food would come with it. The idea of putting anything in her stomach made her abdomen clench with nausea, but she knew this was a result of being desperately overtired and hungry.
Part of her wanted to ask where exactly they’d head once they got on the road again tomorrow. He’d said Seattle, but where? Would he stay with her after they arrived? He was probably resistant to the idea of returning home, maybe even needed to get the okay from Rami. After all, the last time she’d been in town, her presence—and Todd’s—had cost people their lives.
She needed to see her sister, though. This deep ache in her bones was currently greater than anything on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Being with her twin, seeing her, touching her, was as vital to Gigi’s survival as food, water, and air.
Only her twin would understand the daily struggle of being separated from the other half of her soul.
A little over an hour later, they passed a sign that read Welcome to Evanston. “Can we stop here?” If she didn’t get horizontal pronto, she might die.
“Guess we’re gonna have to.” A beat passed. “You hungry?”
“Yes, but I can’t eat right now.” It was after lunchtime, and she hadn’t had anything but tea at the diner hours ago, but in her hierarchy of needs right now, sleep came before food.
“K. I’ll get us food later.” He steered into the parking lot of a hotel and paused before getting out. “Just wait here. I’ll get us checked in. I don’t want anyone to identify you.”
She sank back in her seat. “You’re acting like my face is on a most-wanted list.”
“It’s not that. If the cartel comes through flashing your picture, or your face gets scanned by surveillance cameras, they’ll be led right to us.”
“Okay.”
He tossed her the keys. “Lock the door and let the car run. I’ll be back in five.”
She watched him stalk to the hotel lobby doors. Her skin pebbled with uncertainty, and she scanned the parking lot. Could the assassin be out to get her again so soon? August had said the man was likely still alive. If he was seriously hurt, though, wouldn’t that buy them some time?
A few minutes later, August’s large, brooding form exited the building and the tension in her chest eased. He opened her door. “All set.”
She slid out of the seat and waited while he unloaded his duffel bag and her small backpack. Rather than pass hers to her, he slung it over his shoulder. Given that the extra five pounds probably would’ve sent her to her knees, she didn’t argue.
She closed the door of the SUV and turned just as August produced a baseball cap from his bag. He tugged it over her head, pulling the bill down. The action brought him dangerously close. His warm, earthy scent filled her nostrils. Her body threatened to close the gap between them so she could rest her head on his chest.
He’d hugged her at the restaurant—but would he again? He seemed so distant now. His face tight and grim, and his normally playful green eyes were watchful and weighted with distrust. But considering the circumstances, she couldn’t assume his cold demeanor was directed at her.
“Keep your head down. We don’t want any cameras getting a glimpse of your face.” With his free hand, he knotted his fingers with hers. “You’re Mrs. Hick until further notice.”
Her face flamed and her palm tingled. God, his skin was so warm. Like a hot-stone massage spreading heat through her entire body. He turned them toward the hotel and walked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Next to August, Gigi was dwarfed. She was already on the short side at barely five foot two, and August was easily a foot taller.
Which was hot as fuck.
His hand encompassed her from fingers to wrist. A little thrill bloomed inside her. This was the kind of thing that got her panties wet. August didn’t even need to flirt with her. Her body just responded to his like fire to a wind.
The automatic doors whooshed open and August walked inside. A few people meandered near the check-out desk and Gigi shrunk closer to August’s side, keeping her head down as he’d instructed. They rounded the corner of the lobby to find a bank of elevators. She punched one of the buttons.
A ding sounded and they got inside. August dropped her hand to push a button with the number eight on it. A minute later they entered their suite. Gigi swept her gaze around the small room. There were two queen beds, and across from them was a TV on a small entertainment table. In one corner was a dinette set, a microwave, and a mini fridge.
August slammed the deadbolt in place and dropped his bag. “I need to get some shut-eye. You should, too.” He kicked off his shoes, crossed the room and drew the blinds shut, then stretched out on the bed closest to the door.
Two beds.
Why did that make her heart sink? Had he made sure they’d have separate sleeping spaces? She chewed her lip as she removed her shoes and lowered her bag. In the bathroom, she turned on the shower and stripped.
Of course, getting two beds was the gentlemanly thing to do, wasn’t it? Maybe he didn’t want to give her the impression that she had to sleep with him, or that he expected sex. Instead, he’d firmly cemented a wall between them.
Why did this bother her? She stifled a growl of frustration. She was much too tired for the constant back and forth in her head.
Standing in the tub, she let the scalding spray hit her, opening her hands. A shiver shook her shoulders as steam billowed around her. She wet her hair and washed it with the hotel shampoo and conditioner then cleaned her body with the bar of soap provided.
Death clung to her skin and seeped into her psyche, making tears sting her eyes. Her heart ached. God, she should have done something to help Joe—anything other than just leave. All she’d done was worry about herself and run.
Tears mingled with droplets of water and ran down her cheeks. Sherry’s lifeless eyes flashed in her mind’s eye, and the pressure of the guilt momentarily crushed her windpipe. Covering her face with her hands, she let silent sobs rack her shoulders.
Softly, she said a prayer for everyone who’d been harmed because of her. She couldn’t let anyone else get hurt. Not innocent bystanders, not her sister, and not August.
With that thought firmly in mind, she shut off the water and towel-dried her body. After stepping into her clean clothes, she brushed her teeth and hair. She had to rest. Who knew how long it’d be before she got to stay in a hotel again.
There was fifteen hundred dollars in the go-bag, but that’d only last so long. She opened the bathroom door and glanced at August. He was spread on his back, one huge arm folded over his eyes, his fingers loose and limp. Soft breath whooshed in and out of his nose. Thank god he didn’t snore. She’d forgotten that about him—one of his best qualities.
Getting under the covers of her bed, she dropped her head to the pillow and closed her eyes. She’d let herself sleep for a couple of hours. Then she’d move on. A little worm of worry squirmed in her stomach, making fresh tears mist her eyes. She didn’t want to leave August. For once, she actually felt somewhat safe . . . and no longer lonely. Even if he was infuriating.
But whether she liked it or not, she’d try to make it on her own. She might not survive long, but at least no one else would die trying to help her. In seconds she drifted off.
The sound of a zipper reached Gigi’s ears, pulling her from sleep. Her body had melted into the mattress, and exhaustion was pushing her head into the pillow like a pile of bricks. She forced open her eyes and found the source of the noise. August was standing next to the foot of his bed rummaging through his duffel bag.
“What time is it?” The question came out haggard with grogginess.
“Almost 5:00 p.m.”
She groaned and rubbed her eyes. While falling asleep hours ago, she’d formed a loose plan: leave while August went to get them food. It was a plan that had seemed like a much better one on the cusp of sleep and delirium than it did now in the light of lucidity.
It was a betrayal of sorts, after all he’d done to help her. But ultimately, she was doing him a favor. Keeping him alive. He wouldn’t see it that way, but oh well.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked. Thick stubble covered his jaw, a shade darker than the sandy-blond hair on his head. His shirt was rumpled and his eyes were bloodshot, but he was still sexy as hell.
She forced a smile. “Whatever you’re having.” Hopefully he was hungry enough to eat two helpings because she’d be gone by the time he returned.
“All right. I’ll be quick. I saw a fast-food joint down the road. Sit tight.” He stuffed his phone in his pocket then slipped out of the room.
Gigi tossed back the covers.
Now was her chance.
* * *
August breezed through the lobby of the hotel. Now that it was dinnertime, a few more people were milling about. His brain was a little less foggy thanks to the five hours of sleep he’d gotten. That he’d been able to sleep at all was shocking. Either his body had been beyond exhausted or he’d been comforted by the fact that Gigi was close. He suspected both were true.
For months, Gigi had occupied the back of his mind—and, more often than not, the forefront. Now she was close enough to touch. Which was a problem. He’d gotten two beds so there’d be no accidental touching. Less temptation. Or so he’d told himself.
The cool October air touched his skin as he moved across the parking lot toward his SUV. As he climbed in, his thigh vibrated. August dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone to see who was calling. Rami.
Shit.
The first thing he should’ve done after Gigi called him was let Rami know what’d happened. If Rami and Ivy had heard from a U.S. marshal and knew Gigi was missing, Ivy would be a wreck. Unfortunately, his mental state that morning had prevented him from looking past his nose.
He swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, man,” Rami said, his tone grave. “Uh, something’s happened. Gigi’s missing. The cartel found her. They even killed the U.S. marshal—”
“I know,” August said with a sigh. “I’ve got her.”
“What?” Ivy’s shrill question vibrated the speaker on his phone, followed by a scraping sound. “Gigi is with you? Now?”
He closed his eyes heavily. “Yes. Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve called you—”
“August, we thought she was dead!” Ivy’s voice broke with a sob. “Can I talk to her, please?”
“I’m outside right now. I just went to grab us food.”
“Dude,” Rami said. “Do you have any idea what we’ve been through the last few hours? A U.S. marshal showed up here looking for her. Said one of their men was killed in his home last night and she was gone. Imagine what we thought.”
August dragged his hand down his face. “I said I’m sorry.” Rami was his boss, but he was also his best friend. “Honestly, I was in panic mode,” he confessed. “Last night I dropped off Boyd, closed my eyes for two hours, and then Gigi called. I’d barely slept in days and was on the road to get to her before the cartel. I couldn’t think straight.”
“All right,” Rami said tersely. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, man. She’s fine. Except the assassin showed up at the diner where she was waiting for me. Got there seconds after I did.”
Ivy’s sharp intake of breath crackled in his ear.
“We had a shoot-out,” August continued, “and he’s . . . gone. I hit him, I’m sure of it. But he got away.” He searched the parking lot, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as if expecting said assassin to pop up any second.
It’d been a good twelve hours since he found Gigi at the diner. A lot could happen in that span. If the first assailant was dead, the cartel might have sent another one by now.
They’d stayed in position too long. As soon as he got Gigi fed, he’d check them out and get back on the road before someone caught up to them. With his gaze on the hotel doors, he watched a family exit the building talking and laughing. A woman walked a few paces behind them. Her head was dipped and she wore a baseball cap low over her long brown hair.
Holy shit.
“Dude. I’ll call you back,” he said abruptly, ending the call.
Anger boiled inside him as he watched Gigi glance around the lot then cross the road.
Motherfucker.