Long Road Home by Maya Banks
and moved toward her, enfolding her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” she returned, her voice muffled by his chest.
He pulled her away and stared down into her eyes. “Are you all right? How’s your shoulder?”
“I’m good. Shoulder hurts, but not bad.”
“Sit down.” He gestured toward a nearby barstool. “I’ll rustle up some breakfast for us.”
She pulled the barstool up to the bar that separated the kitchen from the small dining area and sat down. She put her elbows on the hard surface and rested her chin in her palms, studying him as he puttered around the kitchen.
“When do we leave?”
Manuel placed a skillet on the stovetop and turned to look at her. “I hoped to stay here a day or two. Let things calm down before we hit the road again. It’ll give Tony time to sort out this mess on his end. But I’m waiting for him to call. We’ll do what he thinks is best.”
A flare of alarm crossed her face. He narrowed his eyes as he took in her reaction. What was going through her mind now?
“Is that a problem?”
She shook her head. “No, I mean that is, I thought we were in a hurry to get to D.C. I don’t want you out here with me…where you can get killed.”
That wasn’t all she was thinking. He’d bet his life on that much, but damned if he knew what. He sighed. Would he ever get to the bottom of things? Would he ever know what truly happened to her or was it destined to remain a mystery?
He cracked eggs to make an omelet and a few minutes later set a plate in front of Jules. “Eat up. You’re too thin.”
She smiled slightly, but dug into the omelet with her fork. “You didn’t seem to mind how thin I am last night.”
His body stirred to life as he remembered just how much he hadn’t minded. He set his own plate on the opposite side of the bar from her and stared directly into her eyes.
“There’s nothing about you I mind, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you.”
She flushed pink, her pupils flaring for a moment. With desire?
She put her fork down, her fingers still wrapped tightly around it. She didn’t raise her head to look at him, and he had to strain to hear what she said.
“I would have, you know.”
He cocked his head sideways. “Would have what?”
“Married you,” she said in a quiet voice. “I adored you back then. Worshipped the ground you walked on.”
His chest clenched, silent agony squeezing him until he struggled for breath.
“And now, Jules? How do you feel about me now?”
She uncurled her fingers from her fork and put her hand in her lap. She still refused to look at him. When she did raise her eyes to meet his, they were awash in anguish.
“Isn’t it obvious? That you mean more to me than anyone else in the world? It’s why I can’t allow anything to happen to you. I let Mom and Pop down. I won’t let you down. I won’t let you get killed because of me.”
In that moment, he knew. He knew without question that she hadn’t joined the NFR of her own volition. Her agony was clearly written on her face. Which meant she had joined because of him. And it made him want to puke.
Maybe it was his fault. If he had just come clean before she left that he had joined the CIA, maybe she would have had faith in his ability to help her. And she wouldn’t have spent the last three years in hell. She wouldn’t have thought him some helpless computer geek she had to protect.
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “We’re in this together. No matter what you may think, no matter that you endured the last three years alone, the point is you will never be alone again.”
Sadness crept into her beautiful blue eyes. She didn’t believe him. That was fine. He would convince her.
His cell phone rang and he yanked it up. “Yeah.”
“Hey, buddy. Look, I’ve got you and Jules on a flight out of the Henry County Airport in two hours.”
Manual blinked in surprise. “We tried flying already. Don’t you think it’s too risky?” The idea of being trapped on an airplane for an indeterminate amount of time didn’t rest easy with him. Not with whoever was chasing him and Jules out there. Sure, they’d gotten rid of the tracking device, but he didn’t think the baddies were going to give up that easily.
“It’s a small strip, mostly used for private planes. You guys need to get here as soon as possible, and this is the best I can come up with. The alternative is for you to be on the highways for the next few days, and that’s too much exposure.”
“You’re right,” Manuel conceded. “We’ll be on it.”
“See you soon, then.”
Manuel looked up at Jules. “We leave in two hours.”
Her expression was indecipherable, but he could swear, her body language was screaming relief. Why was she so gung ho to get to D.C.?
“I’ll get our stuff,” she said as she slid off the barstool.
He wanted to reach out and touch her again. Feel her in his arms. Last night hadn’t been nearly enough. It would never be enough and would never make up for the time they’d lost.
He looked down at his plate and shoved it away. He’d lost his appetite. He didn’t know what would happen when they reached D.C. It wasn’t as if he could introduce her to his coworkers. Hey, here’s the woman I love, and by the way she’s a member of the terrorist group we’ve been trying to infiltrate for the last few years.
His head throbbed, and he rubbed his palm over his mouth. Tony sure as hell better have some answers by the time they got to D.C. If not, this was going to be one giant cluster fuck.
The brisk morning air rushed through her nostrils as they stepped from the cabin. Jules inhaled deeply, enjoying the coolness on her face. Behind her, Manny locked the door then joined her beside the SUV.
The gravel crunched under her tennis shoes as she walked around to the back so they could stow their bags in the rear of the vehicle. When she tried the door, she found it locked.
She stuck her head around the back and called out to Manny. “You got the keys?”
Instead of tossing them to her outstretched hand, he walked back and inserted the key into the lock. He raised the door then turned to take her bag from her.
As he twisted back around, Jules heard a slight zinging. Then the back seat of the SUV shuddered. Manny emitted a curse of pain. She knew immediately what it was.
A sniper.
Chapter Eighteen
Jules threw herself over Manny, knocking him to the ground. Simultaneously, she reached for the Glock in his shoulder harness. Another bullet whined by and struck the ground over her arm.
“Goddamn it, Jules, get off me!” Manny threw her behind him and rolled over on his side. “Give me the gun!”
She ignored him. Ignored everything but the one thought most pressing in her mind. She wouldn’t let him die. If the bastards wanted her, then by God, they’d have to come and get her.
She dove over Manny and hit the gravel drive with a roll. She scrambled to her feet, hearing Manny curse a blue streak behind her. She raised the Glock and pointed it in the direction the sniper’s bullet had come from and ran a sideways line. Away from Manny.
Where was the cowardly bastard? She ran as fast as she could, knowing if she paused even for a minute, the sniper would be able to get a bead on her more easily. She dodged behind trees, all the while searching for any sign of movement from the direction of the gunfire.
The roar of an engine sounded behind her, and she glanced back to see the SUV barreling toward her. Manny drove like a madman to catch up to her. When he drew alongside her, she yanked the door open, not wanting to go around to the other side where the sniper would have a clear shot. She dove into the back seat, and Manny roared off, the SUV careening back onto the gravel drive and toward the main road.
“That was the most stupid, dumbass stunt you’ve pulled yet,” he yelled. “What
She ignored his ranting, her eyes focused on his arm. His blood. Her heart lurched and sped up. Oh my God, he’d been shot.
“Manny, pull over.”
He threw her a what-the-hell look over his shoulder and continued at breakneck speed down the highway.
“Manny, you’ve been shot!”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
She clambered over the seat, landing in a heap on the passenger side. She scrambled to right herself, putting legs down and head up as she untangled her body from its awkward position.
His sleeve was tattered where the bullet had taken a swipe. She yanked it downward, tearing the material so she could expose the wound.
Her heart catapulted a few times when she saw it was only a graze. She pressed her lips to his shoulder just above the wound and closed her eyes in relief.
“I’m all right, Jules,” he muttered. “Which is more than I’ll be able to say for you when I stop this bloody car and turn you over my knee.”
Oh God, she didn’t care how angry he was. He was alive. Relatively unscathed. He could be mad at her for the rest of his life just as long as he had a rest of his life.
She crawled over the seat again and leaned into the back where their bags were. She dug around until she found a T-shirt then shimmied her way to the front seat.
“Got your knife?” she asked.
He sighed. He gripped the steering wheel with his injured arm and dug into his pocket with his left hand.
“It’s just a scratch.”
She flipped open the knife, not responding to his protest. She cut the T-shirt into long strips then tossed the knife onto the floorboard.
With one of the strips, she wiped gently at the blood and inspected the two-inch crease that marred the skin halfway between his elbow and his shoulder.
“It really needs stitches.”
He snorted as he checked his mirrors.
“Did anyone follow us?”
He shook his head. “Nothing suspicious yet. It’s several more miles to the airport.”
His grunted when she tied one of the strips around his arm and tugged on the ends to make sure it was tight.
“Get my phone,” he said. “I’m going to call Tony and tell him to have that damn pilot in the plane and ready to go when we get there. I don’t want to be a sitting duck at some podunk airstrip.”
She handed him the phone and sat back in her seat. As her adrenaline rush wore off, she began to shake. The more she tried to stop, the more she quivered.
Manny could have been killed.
She wanted to call Northstar and ask him what the hell he was trying to pull. He wanted her to complete a mission and yet he had people taking shots at her. The bastard was holding Manny over her head. He had to know if Manny was killed, she’d never agree to anything he asked.
Unless it had all been a warning. A clear message to her that Northstar could find her no matter where she went, even without the tracking device. He was watching her, and if she tried to renege on her agreement, Manny would die.
She closed her eyes and tried to control the mad shaking.
“Damn it, Jules, I said I was all right,” Manny said in exasperation.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, sure her heart was hanging on her sleeve, dangling by a thread.
“Don’t you see, Manny? Don’t you see why you can’t be around me? Do you have any idea what I’d do if you were killed?”
He swore crudely. “I swear, Jules, if you don’t stop being so fucking pig-headed, I’m going to tan your ass. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. I’ve been shot at, nearly blown up, had my brains scrambled more times than I can count. This isn’t anything new and nothing I can’t handle. If you put yourself in the kind of danger you just put yourself in back there one more time, you aren’t going to have to worry about the NFR, because I’m going to make them look like a group of preschoolers. Are we clear on that?”
She laughed. She couldn’t help herself. And it only served to piss him off further. His scowl deepened.
Her laughter gave way to the rise of hysteria, and suddenly she found herself unable to stop. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and still she laughed harder, a desperate edge to the sound.
Manny sighed, extended his injured arm across the seat and curled his hand over hers. “I’m okay.”
His voice lost the harsh anger, and it made her shake all the more. He withdrew his hand and moved it over her shoulder, rubbing up and down her back in a soothing motion.
Manuel gripped the steering wheel with his left hand until his knuckles whitened. How the hell had they been found this time? But it was clear Jules had pissed off the wrong people, and they weren’t going to just let her go. And he couldn’t offer her the help or the protection of the CIA. She was a terrorist, for Christ’s sake. Unwilling or not, Uncle Sam wouldn’t care. Capturing a member of the NFR would be a huge coup.
She made a small sound beside him, and he pulled her against his side, wincing when his arm protested. She huddled against him, and he vowed that no matter what it took, he was going to protect her.
“How much further?”
“We’re in town now. Tony said it was only about five minutes from Paris.”
She nodded against him and relaxed. He continued to stroke her hair as he navigated through traffic, ignoring the pain in his arm.
Several minutes later, they pulled onto a dusty county road and drove up to a hangar that resembled a metal barn. A man hopped out of a small jet and waved his arms in the air.
“You Manuel Ramirez?” he shouted over the drone of the engine.
Manuel nodded, and held out a hand to help Jules from the SUV. “I’ll get our bags, you get on the plane.”
She shook her head. “I’ll get the bags. You’re hurt.”
He growled in frustration. “Get your ass on the plane, Jules. I’ll get our stuff.”
She set her lips firmly together, but must have realized they were open targets standing next to the SUV, so she jogged over to the plane. The pilot opened the door and helped her up.
Manuel reached into the back and collected the two bags then hurried over to the plane. He climbed in beside Jules, and the pilot taxied down the paved runway.
He breathed a sigh of relief when the plane took to the air, and he relaxed in the seat. “Are you hurting?” Jules asked.
He shifted so he turned in her direction. “Not nearly as much as I’d be hurting if you’d gotten yourself shot.”
Anger flashed in her eyes. “Then why can’t you see that I feel the same way about you?”
This was a dead-end argument. “I should have been there to protect you the last three years. That’s not something I’m likely to ever forget. You’ve gone it alone for as long as you’re ever going to. From now on, no one and nothing is going to hurt you without going through me first.”
She made a sound of distress, but he put a finger over her lips before she could voice her objections.
He glanced toward the cockpit then back at Jules. “Let’s not waste our time arguing,” he murmured, leaning in to press his lips to hers.
She melted into his kiss like heated honey. Her small hands crept up his chest and around his neck. He loved the feel of her so close. Finally in his arms where she belonged.
He pulled her closer, resting his chin on top of her head. He loved her. Had loved her for so long. He couldn’t remember not loving her.
Fear crawled a slow trail down his spine. What if he couldn’t keep her safe? Now that they were approaching Washington, she was in more danger than ever. He couldn’t simply hand her over to his superiors, and he wouldn’t allow the terrorist bastards to take her