Long Road Home by Maya Banks
your body, everything about you has been imprinted in my soul for the last three years? Did you think I’d forget?”
She stared at him, distress radiating from her like a beacon. She was obviously upset, not that he was here, but that he had found her.
“You can’t be near me, Manny. Mom and Pop died because they came to see me. You have to let me go.”
There was no way that was going to happen, but he wasn’t going to waste precious time arguing with her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jules. But what is most important right now is that you know I’m not letting you go again.”
Her intake of breath was swift. “Manny, I couldn’t bear it if I lost you too.” Raw agony infiltrated her voice.
“You aren’t going to lose me, Jules. Trust me.”
She looked startled, as if the idea of trusting anyone was anathema.
He put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking space. Then he roared out of the lot en route to the interstate. He dug out his cell phone and punched in Tony’s number.
“Yeah,” Tony said in a distracted voice.
“I’ve got her.”
“Hey, that’s great. Is she okay?”
Manuel looked over at her. “Yeah, as well as can be expected. You got a safe house worked out yet?”
“Sure do. I’ll punch in the coordinates and upload it to your car’s navigational system. Just follow the directions, and you’ll be there in a few hours.”
“What would I do without you, Tony?”
“Die a fiery death, no doubt. I’ll check in with you later. I have some information about your girl I think you’ll find very interesting.”
Manuel sobered. “Tony, I need a favor. One I have no right to ask.”
“Shoot.”
Manuel sucked in his breath as he contemplated what he was about to do. “Don’t let Sanderson know I’ve found her.”
The phone went silent. “Any reason why?” Tony finally asked.
“He wants me to bring her in. I’m not ready to do that yet. There’s too much I need to know. Just give me a few days. Run interference for me.”
Tony paused again. “Sure man, you got it.”
Manuel let his breath out in relief. “Thanks, Tony. I’ll keep in touch.”
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to the road. What would Tony tell him about Jules? Dread curled in his stomach, spreading up into his chest. Was he prepared to learn what had happened three years ago? Would it change things between him and Jules?
When he glanced over at Jules, he saw that she was staring holes through him.
“Who are you talking about turning me in to? Or not turning me in to? Who the hell are you, Manny?”
“Funny, I was going to ask you the same question.” He pinned her with his gaze. “I think we both have a lot of talking to do. When we get to the safe house, I want answers. Until then, you need to get some rest.”
He said it in a way that didn’t offer her any alternatives. And either she was too tired to argue or she didn’t have a response, because she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes.
Unable to help it, he reached over and curled his fingers around her hand. Warmth spread up his arm when her hand tightened around his.
For the first time, he allowed himself to think everything might be okay. Now if only he could convince her of that.
Jules stared out her window, the miles passing in a blur. She and Manny hadn’t exchanged words since they’d left Denver, but she knew he watched her. She could feel his gaze on her, but she refused to meet his stare.
They were heading south toward New Mexico, and with each mile her fear grew. Fear that she wouldn’t be able to protect Manny from Northstar. From what she’d become.
She sank lower in the seat, gingerly drawing her knees up to her chest. Her fingers stroked the duffle bag at her side, drawing assurance from the outline of the gun there. At least she’d have some way of defending them when—not if—they were tracked.
A sharp pain twisted through her chest and robbed her of breath. She sucked in air, determined not to panic as the scenery blurred before her. Damn, her ribs were on fire. She reclined the seat in an attempt to alleviate the growing pressure in her midsection.
The pain eased as she stretched out, and her breathing evened. She pressed her hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. Her pulsed thudded incessantly against her fingertips.
“Speak to me, Jules. What’s wrong? Do I need to get you back to the hospital?” Manny’s concerned voice seared through her haze of pain.
“No,” she said faintly. “I’m all right. Really.”
“Where are you, baby? Because you’re miles away from here right now.”
She cringed, not wanting to voice what she had been thinking. It sounded pathetic and defeatist. But she blurted it out anyway. “I was thinking it should have been me who died. Not Mom and Pop.”
To her surprise, he slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the shoulder. He turned on her, his eyes blazing in the faint light offered by the headlights. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. I thought I lost you, Jules. For three long years I lived with the awful reality you might not be coming home. And then I found you. Don’t you dare wish you had died, because I’ve spent the last three years praying you were alive.”
Before she could respond, he put his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to meet his kiss. Her mouth opened in surprise, and his tongue darted forward, gently probing her lips.
It was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. For a moment, she was in high school again, dressing for the prom, depressed because the one guy she wanted to take was eight years older and already out of college. She had closed her eyes and imagined it was Manny kissing her when her date had delivered her to the door with the prerequisite peck on the lips.
He was exquisitely gentle, his lips moving reverently over hers. His fingers worked slowly into her hair, kneading and stroking as he deepened his kiss.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it ended. He pulled away from her and ran a hand through his hair in agitation. “Christ, I’m sorry, Jules. You don’t need that right now.”
She stared at him in shock. With a trembling hand, she raised her fingers and touched her swollen mouth.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He captured her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m sorry, baby.”
He allowed her hand to slide from his, and she pulled hers away, cradling it with her other hand. What was she supposed to say? She was so damn confused she doubted she could recall her own name at the moment. For that matter, she really had no idea what her real name was. A hysterical bubble of laughter rose quickly in her throat, and she fought to choke it back.
Manny swore softly then pulled back onto the highway. “Get some sleep, Jules. If you don’t, I swear, I’ll call Tony and have you transferred to the hospital like we’d planned. It’s what I should’ve done in the first place.”
“Who the hell is Tony anyway?” she grumbled as she lay back against the leather seat. She shivered, and Manny reached over to turn up the heat.
“Tony is my partner.”
“Partner in what? Somehow I doubt you’re still in the computer software business.” He looked far too dangerous to be a computer nerd. She had never been able to reconcile his image with his profession.
“Rest,” he said in a warning tone. “We’ll talk when we get there.”
“Wherever there is.”
He smiled.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are. You’re sounding more and more like the Jules I know all the time.”
She sobered instantly, the throbbing in her head resuming with a vengeance. “I’m not her. Maybe I never was.”
Manny gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Rest.”
Not arguing, she turned to the window. She could never go back to that carefree, naive girl she had once been. She’d seen and done far to
She raised trembling fingers to her lips, lips still swollen from Manny’s kiss. What exactly were his feelings for her? She’d never imagined that he returned her sentiment, that he might want her just as badly as she’d wanted him, but in the face of the way he’d kissed her, she could hardly ignore the possibility. Had she been blind to the signs?
She thought back, trying to analyze Manny’s behavior toward her. As a teenager, she’d idolized him, fantasized about being Mrs. Manuel Ramirez, but she’d been careful to keep her girlish imaginings to herself. She would have died if he’d found out the extent of her infatuation.
Three years ago, she would have done anything for Manny to kiss her like he just had, but now it only complicated matters. No matter how much she wanted him to be more than a big-brother protective figure, it wasn’t possible. And if he knew the truth about her, he wouldn’t want her anyway.
“It’s snowing.” He turned to her when she looked over. “You used to love the snow.”
“Yeah,” she said faintly. But she didn’t now. It was too easy to be tracked in the snow. She remained silent, not voicing that tidbit of information. Instead she watched the flurry of snowflakes through the windshield wipers.
The heat pouring from the vents and the steady hum of the wipers lulled her into a state of relaxation. Soon her eyes grew as heavy as her heart, and she allowed them to close. Her final thought was that she hoped it wasn’t snowing wherever they ended up.
Chapter Eight
Manuel pulled to a stop outside a large log cabin and shut off the engine. He glanced over at Jules who was still sleeping soundly. He hated to disturb her, but he wasn’t going to leave her in the car while he went in to check out the cabin. She’d probably bolt. He had seen the resolve in her eyes. She may have conceded defeat for the moment, but he had no illusions that she was suddenly going to become complacent.
He got out, walked around to her side and quietly opened the door. He unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped his arms under her slight form. She came awake instantly.
“Jules, it’s okay. It’s me.”
She reached down for her duffle bag and held it close to her. “I can walk.”
He ignored her and scooped her up into his arms. As he headed for the front porch, he examined the area around them. The scent of pine was strong, and in the distance he could hear rushing water. The cabin was up on a slight hill that gave the surrounding area a good view from the inside. On two sides the forest was dense. From the sound, it seemed a river provided a natural barrier between the back of the cabin and the outlying woods. The only opening was the narrow drive leading to the front of the cabin.
Not willing to take any chances, he eased Jules from his arms and put a finger to his lips. “Stay behind me.” He drew his gun and cracked open the door. Jules stared at him in surprise but showed no discomfort over the appearance of the weapon.
After a quick run-through of the house, he was satisfied that it was safe to remain. He motioned for Jules to sit on the couch, and he flipped on the lights in the large living room.
She settled on the couch, clutching her duffle bag tight against her chest. He was certain she hadn’t had it at the hospital, but where she picked it up he couldn’t be sure. Despite his curiosity, he held his tongue, wanting her to calm down before they had their talk.
“Want something to eat?” he asked, turning toward the kitchen.
She stood, and he leveled a hard stare at her. “Sit down, Jules. I’ll get us something.”
Slowly, she complied. “Okay.”
He could see her from the open kitchen, and he was careful to keep a close eye on her as he rummaged through the cabinets. Tony had proved thorough as usual. They could easily survive weeks here if they had to.
“Want some pancakes?” he called.
A ghost of a smile formed around her lips. “That would be great. You always did make the best pancakes.”
“They were your favorite.”
“I haven’t eaten them since the morning I left for France.” Her voice cracked, and she looked away.
A rock settled in his stomach. She had been so excited that morning. The Trehans had given her a trip to France to celebrate her graduation from college, and she was bursting at the seams to go. He’d come home to see her off. They had gotten up early so he could cook her favorite breakfast, then he’d driven her to the airport. It was the last time he’d seen her.
The Jules who had left, the ready-to-take-on-the-world girl who wanted to do and see it all, was a far cry from the wounded woman he now faced.
He mixed the batter, adding the ingredients mechanically. At his side, his cell phone vibrated. Wiping his hands, he stole a quick glance at Jules before backing toward the pantry where he would be out of her sight. He snapped up the phone. “Make it quick,” he said in a low voice.
“You get to the cabin yet?”
“Yeah, we’re here.”
“You want what info I have now, or you want to call me back later?”
Manuel expelled a long rush of air. “Let me call you back. I want to hear what she has to say first.”
“Okay, give me a holler when you’re ready.”
“Is it bad?” Manuel asked, suddenly aware that he was holding his breath.
Silence settled over the line. “It ain’t exactly good,” Tony finally said. “By the way. A heads-up. Sanderson is going to give you a call in a few. He wants to know what the hell is going on. I’ve played dumb, but I know he’s not buying it.”
Manuel quietly ended the call and stuck the phone back in his pocket. Why it was so important that he hear it from Jules he wasn’t sure. But it had to come from her. He wanted to be looking her in the face when he found out what the hell had happened three years ago. And maybe he wanted to see how honest she would be with him.
On cue, the phone rang again. Manuel saw it was Sanderson and answered.
His boss cut straight to the point. “Manuel, what do you have to report?”
“Nothing yet, sir. I’m still in Denver.”
“Do you need more agents on this?” Sanderson asked.
Panic crept up Manuel’s spine. “No, sir. I want to do this. I need to. I’ll find her.”
“All right. Keep me posted. You’ve got three days, Manuel. Then I call in backup.”
The phone went dead, and Manuel cursed vividly under his breath. Three days. It wasn’t much time to cover three years. He shoved his phone in his pocket and went in search of Jules.
“Soup’s on,” he called, rounding the corner into the living room. He looked at the empty sofa. Fuck! He glanced around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her standing by the fireplace.
“Jules?” He crossed the floor and put a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around, her eyes flaring for a moment.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Your pancakes are ready.”
She flashed a smile that didn’t reach any higher than the corners of her mouth. “Can’t wait.”
She followed him back and sat down at the table. He put a plate heaped high with pancakes in front of her then took a seat across from her.
He watched as she picked at the food, nibbling a few bites. She looked away most of the time, never at him, never meeting his gaze. Perhaps she knew the time had come.
Still, he waited. He wanted her to eat and relax her guard before they bared their souls. And truth be known, he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what had happened to her. How cowardly of him to be so afraid to know what she had been forced to endure.
If she had been forced.
Her last words to him echoed in his mind, the phone call, the