Escape the Night Page 5

  Shit!

  He grabbed him by his shirt collar, yanked him inside the house and pushed the door to close it. But before he could secure it someone flew at him, knocking him 45

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  backward over John's body. Instinctively he tightened his grip on his gun and lashed out at whoever this was, grunting in satisfaction when he connected with the man's head on the first blow. Gus slammed the barrel of his gun against the man's temple one more time for good measure, then pushed him off his legs and stumbled to his feet. He double checked that the blinds on the kitchen window and the back door were tightly shut, then fished around in a kitchen drawer for the flashlight he knew was kept there. He shone its light first on the intruder, checked to make sure the man was still unconscious, then skimmed over his face. A stranger. No one Gus was familiar with or had even seen a mug shot of.

  Then he turned his attention to John. He felt for a pulse and found none, but the blood on his face and neck from the bullet hole in his temple told the story. How the hell had the stranger gotten onto the property without alerting John? Or had he tripped a silent alarm and sandbagged John when the agent came out to check? The only good thing to come out of this was at least he knew John wasn't working with or for Virgil Branson.

  Digging in John's pockets he dug out two pairs of flex cuffs and bound the intruder's hands and feet. He rifled his pockets looking for any kind of identification, but of course there was nothing. Finally he went back into the study, found the roll of duct tape in the drawer there, went back to the kitchen and taped the stranger's mouth shut.

  Then he made his way back to the bedroom. It was time to wake Anya and get the hell out of there.

  * * * * *

  "What do you mean, how did he bypass security?" Gus ground his teeth in frustration. "How the hell should I know? I wasn't the one on watch."

  He was nearly shouting into the phone at Jimmy. Taking a deep breath, he dialed back his anger and listened to his friend.

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  "I know, I know." Jimmy was trying to calm him, but Gus could hear the tension in his friend's voice that matched his own. "You know what this has to mean, don't you?"

  "That Dean's involved? I'm not buying it. Not yet."

  "Be sensible. Someone had to know where to send that guy after you."

  Gus gripped the cell even harder, forcing some semblance of calm. He glanced over to Anya, curled up on the bed in the cheap-ass motel room, hugging her knees, eyes wide, face as pale as the sheets on the bed. For her sake he had to keep it together. She was already frightened enough. He'd promised to keep her safe and damn it, that's what he was going to do.

  "You'd better send a cleanup crew to the house," he said now.

  "Already taken care of," Jimmy told him. "I'm not saying a word about it to anyone here, either. Not until we know for sure what's going on."

  "Branson obviously has a much larger organization than we figured, and has a lot of people in his pocket."

  Jimmy snorted. "No shit. There's a lot of money there. Gus. Money changes people. Makes them greedy. Makes them forget what they should and shouldn't be doing."

  "You got that right."

  "Where are you calling from?" Jimmy asked. "I almost didn't answer the phone because I didn't recognize the number?"

  "Disposable phone," Gus told him. "And no offense, but I don't think right now I want to tell anyone where we are. Not even you. Safer that way for you as well as for us."

  "Where do you plan to go? You can't just wander from place to place. I still think you should let me stash Anya someplace so you can be free to do what you need to."

  "I'll figure it out. Someplace where we're secure. Where I can work my contacts and figure out what the fuck is going on. But like I said, she stays with me."

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  "Your funeral." Jimmy paused. "Well, the escape is all over the news. The director is climbing all over Barton about it. If he's Branson's contact, I hope he's getting enough money to retire to some tropical island."

  Gus disconnected the call, put the phone on the bedside table and stretched out beside Anya. When he touched her skin it was ice cold. Pulling her into his arms, he rubbed her back and arms, trying to infuse warmth into her.

  "You did good, darlin'," he praised her. And indeed she had. When he woke her and explained the situation, she hadn't argued or fallen apart, despite the fact that he could see how freaked she was. He'd figured they had a few minutes yet. When no one came in after the guy he cold cocked he'd had to assume no one else was out there. But they would be when their man failed to report in. They'd dressed and thrown their few belongings into a duffel bag Gus found in the closet. Before climbing into the car Gus had checked everywhere, especially underneath, either for an explosive device or a GPS tracker, but the car, thankfully, was clean. He'd had to open the garage door manually since the power was still cut and he didn't want to alert anyone too soon by restoring it. Anya had huddled into herself on the seat, a silent wraith while he drove away from the safe house and onto the Interstate. He'd been very careful to watch for a tail. One stop to buy disposable cells at an all-night store before putting heading to Austin, a city where they could get lost until he could figure out what to do.

  "I'm scared, Gus." Her voice was small, muffled against his shoulder.

  "I know, I know. And with good reason. But we're going to get out of this."

  "What happened?"

  It was the first question she'd asked him since he'd woken her. The fact that she'd just gone along with him, following his directions, was a good indication of the level of trust she placed in him. He didn't plan to make light of it. But she did deserve some answers. He shifted a little on the bed and rolled her so she was on top of him, his arms tight around her.

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  "We've had a little glitch," he began.

  "I'd say it's more than little if we had to sneak out in the middle of the night," she pointed out.

  "Yeah, more than a little." He did his best to keep his voice level. No sense in panicking Anya more than she already was. "Jimmy called before we went to bed to tell me he believes our FBI office has been compromised."

  "Compromised?" She raised her head to look into his eyes. "Exactly what does that mean?"

  No sense sugarcoating it. "It means someone in our office is in bed with Virgil Branson and can feed him your location. But that's not all."

  "Is that why we had to leave the way we did? And what about the other agent?"

  He could feel the erratic beat of her heart against his chest and tightened his arms even more.

  "I don't know what woke me up tonight but I'm glad something did. Anya, John's dead, and someone tried to get into the house. I suspect they had orders to kill both of us."

  "Kill?"

  Now she was shaking so badly he was afraid she'd break apart. He kissed her forehead and her cheeks, hoping to take the edge off.

  "I got him while he was still off balance, left him tied up and called Jimmy to pick him up. But I have to be honest. We're pretty much on our own here. At least until Virgil's caught."

  "B-But even then we won't be safe," she protested. "Not unless we find out who's doing his dirty work."

  "Which we will," he assured her. "I'm not totally without resources."

  Anya curled up into a ball on top of him. "But where can we go?"

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  He kissed her gently. "Don't worry. I have a place in mind. Meanwhile we're safe enough where we are for a little while. We should get some sleep. We're going to need it." He lifted her from his body. "Come on. Let's get our clothes off and crawl under the covers."

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  Chapter Five

  Anya came awake slowly still nestled against Gus' big body, eyes focusing on her surroundings. Nothing looked familiar. At first she thought she was back at the safe h
ouse. Then everything came crashing back down on her. No safe house. They were in a strange motel apparently running from everyone.

  She wiggled herself tighter against Gus and felt the hard thickness of his erection prodding her ass. His arm banded across her tummy tightened.

  "Keep doing that and I won't want to get out of bed." His voice was warm and still deep from recent slumber.

  "Maybe that's what I want." She was only half teasing.

  "We've got to get moving," he reminded her.

  "I know. But I need you, Gus. I need your strength."

  She knew having sex--making love--didn't need to be on their agenda at this particular moment, but she desperately needed that connection. She sighed when his hand cupped her breast, thumb lazily brushing back and forth against her nipple. Purring with satisfaction she pressed herself more tightly against him. His breath hissed in her ear and his cock flexed against the crevice of her buttocks.

  "You're killing me, darlin'."

  "No," she told him. "I'm needing you."

  His hand drifted from her breast lower to lightly caress her tummy, down through her curls into her cunt where she knew he'd find her wet and wanting. She rocked back and forth, welcoming the pressure of his fingers on her clit, reveling in the answering heat that shot through her.

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  Gus' hand left her, his arm reaching back for his wallet on the nightstand. He was clumsy opening it with one hand, but eventually he managed to retrieve the condom he always carried in there--"you never know where we might end up," he joked one time--ripped the foil with his teeth and clumsily managed to sheath himself. Lifting her top leg he pulled it over his own, opening her to him. Working his hand between them he grabbed his cock and pushed the head into the opening of her pussy. There was no foreplay. The danger of their circumstance had aroused them to the point where neither of them needed it. He thrust hard against her and filled her, every inch of her pussy stretched with his swollen shaft.

  "Play with your clit," he murmured. "Do it for me."

  Obediently she moved one hand down between her thighs, finding the swollen nub, jumping at the first electric contact. She moved her fingers up and down the way she loved Gus to do, timing her strokes with his thrusts in and out of her. His arm banded tightly across her, his hand holding her breasts. He nipped her earlobe and then traced the lines of her ear with the tip of his tongue. She shivered at the sensations that skittered through her.

  Gus picked up the tempo of his strokes and Anya rocked her hips with him, taking him as deep as she could with each forward thrust. Her hand on her clit moved faster and faster. The hard shaft inside her flexed and Gus' body tensed behind her, signaling the approach of his climax. Anya pinched her clit, hard, and they tumbled over the edge together.

  The briefness of their climax in no way was an indication of its intensity. Anya rocked her hips hard against Gus as he drove into her again and again, his cock pulsing as he ejaculated in great spurts into the condom. The walls of her pussy convulsed around him, gripping him and milking every last drop.

  For a long moment the only sounds in the room were their labored breathing and the whining of the cheap air-conditioning unit. Anya thought her heart might pound out of her chest before it finally settled down to a steadier beat. But despite all that, 52

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  despite the urgency of their situation, despite the briefness of their coupling, there was a deep sense of satisfaction and belonging settling inside her. No matter what happened, she knew Gus would take care of her and always be with her. In the midst of all this, a door had finally slammed shut on her past and given her hope for the future. She exhaled a slow breath of contentment, wishing they never had to move from this position. But too soon Gus smacked her lightly on her hip and withdrew from her.

  "I hate to break it to you, but we have to get up and get moving."

  "I know," she sighed. "Reality bites, though, doesn't it?"

  Gus was already heading for the bathroom. "Shower, clothes and breakfast," he called over his shoulder.

  "Do you have any idea where we're going?" she asked, wondering if they were just going to keep moving from hotel to hotel.

  "Yes. As soon as we eat I'm making a call. Then we'll hit the road."

  * * * * *

  I must be crazy to even think of this.

  Gus rolled his plan back and forth in his mind, trying to think of any other alternative. He hadn't spoken to his brother in ten years, and the last time had been far from friendly. Even now he couldn't believe they'd gotten into an actual fight right after their father's funeral. At the time he'd had so much rage built up inside him, anger at his father for divorcing his mother, anger at Rafe for stealing Gus' woman. Anger at the world. Now it all seemed too trivial, especially since Anya had come into his life. He couldn't even remember what he'd seen in Linda Grogan or why he'd distanced himself from what was left of his family.

  But he was short on choices and he needed a safe place for Anya and people he could really trust. He could only hope Rafe didn't carry grudges. He ate breakfast only because he knew he needed the strength, the same reason he urged Anya to eat. When 53

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  he'd put it off as long as he could and ducked into the men's room, dialing a number on his cell that in all these years he'd never forgotten. Gus drummed his fingers against the wall while the phone rang on the other end and he waited for someone to answer it. Would it be Linda? Would she let him speak to her husband? Or would it be Rafe, probably hanging up the phone on him.

  "Hello?"

  The voice was deeper but otherwise still just as familiar.

  "Hello, Rafe."

  He wondered how long the silence would drag out before his brother said something.

  "I'll be damned," he finally said. "This is one call I never expected to get."

  "You have every right to hang up," Gus told him, "but I'm hoping you won't. The first thing I want to say is I'm sorry. For everything."

  "It's a good thing I don't hold grudges the way you do," his brother said. His voice was neither welcoming nor hostile. Wary, Gus thought. The same as he'd be if the situation was reversed.

  "I have to say it again, Rafe. I'm sorry. I was an asshole."

  Rafe actually chuckled. "I'm sorry you were an asshole, too. Now that we've got that out of the way, what prompted this call after ten years?"

  "I need a favor," Gus began, choosing his words very carefully. Would Rafe hang up on him, saying if he couldn't come around when there wasn't trouble, why should he listen to him now?

  But Rafe surprised him. "Tell me what a poor rancher can do for a hotshot FBI agent?"

  Gus would have ended the call if Rafe's voice had been hostile, but instead, even after this call out of the blue, it held the same hint of humor he remembered as an integral part of his brother's personality.

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  "I need to come out to the ranch and stay for a few days. I need a place that's off the radar."

  "Are you in trouble?"

  Rafe always seemed to know what kind of spin to put on things.

  "Yes and no." How much to tell him? "Not me, really. A...very good friend."

  Gus realized how ballsy this was. He'd been estranged from his brother for ten years, now he wanted him to let Gus bring danger to the secure life he'd built.

  "Listen, never mind." He couldn't do it. What the hell has he been thinking, anyway. Anya. He'd been thinking about her. "I'll find another solution."

  "How far away are you?"

  "About an hour and a half."

  Rafe paused again, Gus could almost hear him thinking.

  "Come on down. I'll tell Linda. Then I can take her and the kids to her parents'."

  Kids. Shit, he hadn't thought about that.

  "Rafe--"

  "See you then."

  Gus found himself holding a dead phone. Well, this was what he'd hoped for, right? He j
ust hoped he didn't get his brother killed now that they'd finally exchanged words again.

  * * * * *

  Gus drove straight to the ranch as if he'd never left it, his car homing in like a dog tracking a scent. He'd told Anya where they were going and she'd looked at him startled, but whatever she'd seen on his face had been enough to kill the questions he knew were forming in her brain.

  He turned off onto the narrow two-lane road leading to the ranch and the first thing he saw was the heavy forest of trees that grew from the fence line back to the house. 55

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  The oak and mountain cedar and mesquite had been there forever. His dad always said he liked the privacy it gave them, and Rafe and Gabe had used the privacy of the trees for games as children and other, less playful, things as they grew older. He followed the gravel driveway through the trees until they reached the clearing where the actual ranchland began. And there it sat, the place he'd avoided for so long. Rafe had painted the ranch house and done a lot of hard work getting the place in shape. It was very evident. Gus took a moment to drink in the scene--ranch house surrounded by oak trees that provided a canopy of shade. Endless pastures stretching away to the north, two of them filled with cattle, men on horseback checking on them. Herding them.

  Gus remembered all the growing up years when his father had taught both the boys the intricacies of successful ranching but Rafe was the only one who'd lapped it up. And speak of the devil, he must have heard them coming and was waiting on the front porch for them, his body as tall and lean as ever but now more muscular. His dark hair cut short and his skin bronzed from working outdoors. Next to him was a slender blonde, pressed against his side.

  Linda!

  He hadn't seen her since the god-awful night when he'd left the ranch. Now he waited for the sharp pain of betrayal to sting him, but she might as well have been a stranger. His mind and heart only had room for Anya.

  Gus parked the car in the graveled area to the side of the house and came around to open the door for Anya. She hesitated but he took her hand firmly in his and tugged.