Where the actual fuck did she think she was going?
August’s breath hissed through his nose as he climbed out of the SUV and stormed after her. Thankfully, the extra paces she had on him forced his temper down a notch as he walked. Otherwise, he’d have given in to the urge to throw her deceitful little ass over his shoulder.
He should’ve known something was up. If he hadn’t been so stressed out and exhausted, he might have picked up on her tension and seen that she planned to run. He’d also been distracted by Gigi’s tousled hair as she stared up at him from her bed. Her slightly swollen and sleepy eyes had numbed his brain and given him blue balls from hell.
Before leaving, he’d caught sight of the top of her white tank top, and judging by the thin straps, she hadn’t worn a bra underneath. Luckily she hadn’t stood up because seeing her nipples poke through the material would have made his already hard cock demand to see those pretty tips naked.
At the memory the front of his pants shrunk around his cock. Apparently he couldn’t even think about the fact that he’d almost seen her nipples without getting aroused.
He was worse than a teenage boy.
He walked briskly behind her. With her shoulders hunched, her face tilted downward, and her hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie, she appeared to have no clue he was on her heels.
Snagging her elbow—he didn’t give a damn if his hold had bite—he wheeled her around. “What the hell do you—”
Her hand swept out from her pocket and a blade sliced toward his midsection. He dodged out of reach, nearly throwing his back out in the process.
Her eyes went round and her mouth fell open. “A-August?”
Anger flashed through him. He snatched the blade from her, slid it closed, and then stared at the familiar wooden handle.
She’d kept it. The knife he’d given her in the hospital months ago. And just like that, the anger and hurt drained from his veins.
The only memento of his father, and probably the only thing he was sentimental about, was in his hand again. Giving it to Gigi had felt right at the time. As if he were handing her a part of himself to shield her. And just as he’d hoped, she’d been using it to protect herself.
He stroked the piece. He’d never be able to look at it without thinking about his dad—the knife had been his, given to him by his own father while hunting as a child.
His father had died eight years ago of a brain aneurysm, and his mother had passed a year later of a broken heart. The fact that both of his parents were gone was a heavy weight on his heart. But he’d moved on. Tried to do shit they’d be proud of. Even though what they’d wanted most for August was a wife and kids. They’d worried relentlessly when he was in the military, though he was sure his dad would’ve thought his being in black ops was cool.
“You kept it.” He wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Maybe it wasn’t surprise but gratitude.
“Of course I kept it.” She swatted a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I remember you telling me when I stayed in your apartment that it was the only thing you had of your father’s.” She swallowed, and the fine skin encircling her neck moved.
“You have no idea how much that gift comforted me,” she continued. “It was the only thing I had from home. The only thing that proved to me my old life existed.” She let out a loose laugh. “Some days I thought I was losing my mind. That I’d made up my whole past and everything was just a dream.”
He reached forward and tucked the knife back in her pocket. The action brought her inches closer, and she didn’t move away.
“Why’d you leave?” The question came out jagged—and coated in hurt, goddammit.
Gigi rolled in her bottom lip, and her gaze swept to the sky before returning to him. She looked remorseful. She’d never displayed remorse around him before, not even when she told him she was seeing someone else.
The memory burned a hole in his chest.
“I’m sorry. I appreciate your help. I just . . .” She toyed with the drawstrings of her hoodie. “I can’t go back into witness protection. And it’s not fair for me to risk your life, and Ivy’s and Rami’s, by returning home.”
He chortled. “Do I look like someone who can’t take care of himself?”
She shrunk down an inch. “That’s not what I mean.”
“’Cause I remember saving Rami’s ass a couple times—and yours, actually, when one of Fernando’s men would’ve put a bullet in your head.” Fernando was the cartel leader who’d been after Gigi’s sister, and Rami had killed him. August spread his arms wide. “Still here and they’re dead.”
“Joe could protect himself, too. Whoever they hired—”
“Will be dead when I see him again.”
“Sherry’s dead,” she volleyed back.
He heaved a sigh. “You’re not leaving on your own.” He caught her arm and pulled her close to his chest.
She stiffened for a minute then relaxed in his embrace. “I won’t send you into witness protection if that’s not what you want. But know this—they’re going to come for us and we’ll have to fight. People are going to die. It sucks. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you and the ones you love, though.”
A tremor shook her shoulders.
His chest ached. “Do you trust me?”
Gigi tipped back her head to meet his eyes. Her smooth skin was tanned, making the yellow striations in her irises pop against the hazel hues. She lifted her chin as if she had something to prove—and hell, she did. Because if she tried to run off again, they were going to have a problem.
“Yes,” she said firmly. The corners of her lips trembled then stilled. They’d been close for only a couple of weeks, but he knew that when Gigi tried to hide her emotions, she did a piss-poor job of it.
He leaned back, catching her chin and holding her in place for a beat. “Then I need to be able to trust you, too. No leaving. No running. If you’ve got a problem with me, tell me. Or hit me. Whatever. Just don’t run from me.” His words came out with the force of a tornado. “Okay?” he pressed.
“’Kay.”
“Promise?”
She nodded. “I promise.”
“Good.” He lowered his arms and reached for her hand. “Next time you go to cut someone”—he jerked her hand toward his throat—“here. Not the midsection.”
“Well, I got the assassin in the stomach. That kinda worked.”
“Not really, considering he came after you.”
She grimaced, and her nose wrinkled. His insides fizzled. Christ, she was too adorable.
“You did good,” he said reassuringly. “Just would have been better to have him die right away.”
She blew a breath through tight lips. “I wasn’t necessarily thinking about the most efficient way to kill someone. I just wanted to escape.” She smiled mischievously. “It’s a good thing I went for your midsection though, otherwise I could’ve accidentally taken you out.”
He chuckled and laced his fingers with hers. “If someone can take me out that easily, I’m in trouble.” He nodded toward the hotel. “Let’s go get our stuff. We should keep moving and grab our food to go.”
“Okay.”
With her little hand folded in his, the tension in his shoulders eased, but only a fraction. It’d never crossed his mind that Gigi might try to make it on her own. He’d been playing things cool, keeping her at arm’s length, and maybe that was the problem.
He couldn’t be too cold or distant. Not when his actions might push her away.
Things just got a helluva lot more complicated.
* * *
Polishing off her burger, Gigi crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it in the paper bag at her feet. “Oh my god that was good. So glad I didn’t run off.”
Her attempt at humor was lost on August. He slid a glare her way from the driver’s seat.
His hand was curled loosely around the bottom of the steering wheel and his legs stretched out in front of him. Her mouth watered. His long-sleeved T-shirt hugged his biceps, and the sleeves were pushed up his forearms to reveal sinewy tattooed muscle.
The guy was every girl’s fantasy.
His green eyes glimmered with warning. “Do that again and see what happens.”
She hiked up her eyebrows. “Is that a threat?”
“No, but I don’t take kindly to second offenses. Not only will you not get a burger, but your ass will meet my palm.”
She gasped and smacked his shoulder. “And my fist might loosen your jaw.”
He chuckled and brought his gaze back to the road. “How about I keep giving you burgers and fries and you keep staying close?”
She shrugged. “I’ll never turn away food. But the real way to my heart is a kitchen. Copper cookware, gas stove. The works.” She was trying to be funny, but the mention of her dream kitchen only awarded her a stab of longing.
“I’ll tell you what. When this is over, you can cook me a huge meal, complete with dessert. Sound good?”
She laughed. “I’d be so happy to cook again that I’ll take that deal.”
Trees and open fields whizzed by the window. Gigi couldn’t stop the buzz of nerves in her belly. “How long until we’re home?”
“’Bout thirteen hours or so.”
She dropped her head back to the seat and looked at him. “Please tell me we’ll find a bed before we get there.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she clamped her lips together. Heat incinerated her cheeks. She brought her attention to the stretch of road in front of them, but not before seeing embers of desire spark in August’s eyes.
He was quick. Surely his mind had gone to the same place hers had at the mention of a bed.
He cleared his throat. “We’ll drive a few more hours. I’d like to crash by 10:00 p.m., get a decent sleep, and leave early. We should be home by tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’d like to call my sister. I know it’s risky, but—”
August reached into the cup holder and passed his phone to her. “Rami called earlier. They heard what happened and were worried. I’d have told you sooner but got distracted when I caught you leaving.”
Sadness weaved around her heart as she accepted the device. Ivy must’ve thought she was dead. Oh god, she knew that feeling. Knew the pain of fearing the worst about your sister. She hated that Ivy had experienced even a second of that torture. And though Rami wasn’t her brother, they’d become close. Rami’s brother had gone missing over two years ago during a mission in Afghanistan and had never been found. It was almost unbearable to imagine how much both Ivy and Rami had been triggered by the assumption that she was dead.
She ran her thumb over the edge of the screen, summoning strength.
She selected Ivy’s number and brought the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Ivy’s voice sounded hollow.
“It’s me,” Gigi said, almost grimacing at the strain in Ivy’s tone.
“Oh thank god.” Ivy’s emotion spread through the line, reaching Gigi’s heart. She didn’t need to see her sister’s face to hear the fear, anxiety, and relief all mixed into one. “What happened?” Ivy implored.
The last thing Gigi wanted to do was relive the experience. She dragged small circles on her pant leg. “They must have found me because of that postcard I sent you. It was stupid of me. I just—I thought—”
“It’s okay,” Ivy said firmly. “You’re okay. And by the sounds of it you’re coming home, which is right where you should be.”
“I don’t want to put you at risk.” She kept her voice quiet, as if saying her biggest worry too loudly would make it come true.
“You’re not. We know who’s after you and we have the best protection possible. Maybe the way out of this isn’t to run and hide but to face the cartel head-on.”
Gigi wet her lips. “People die when that happens.”
“The cartel will kill people whether they’re after you or not. Please, come home. I need you and I miss you.”
Tears brimmed in Gigi’s eyes, and the lining of her throat swelled as she fought to keep the crying in check. Bawling wouldn’t do her or Ivy any good, and surely it’d make August uncomfortable. “We should be there tomorrow afternoon.” She used all her effort to steady her voice.
“Good. I can’t wait.” A beat passed. “Stay strong. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Gigi disconnected and stared at the phone for a moment before reaching forward to set the device back in the cup holder. August’s hand caught her fingers before she could pull away.
“You okay?”
She cleared the thickness from her tongue. “Yeah, fine.”
“Why don’t you close your eyes? I’ll wake you when we stop.”
She nodded and did as he’d suggested. August’s warm hand kept her grounded, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. Whenever the creeping sensation of lying in her room at the farmhouse spread over her and her brain tried to replay the sounds and images of that night, she stirred, and sometimes a moan slipped from her lips, but August’s fingers kept brushing over her knuckles, realigning her. His constant touch and reassurance kept the nightmares at bay.
For now.