by Shayla Black
“This character hasn’t led us astray so far,” Roman pointed out.
“I think it’s worth the risk if she’s right about where these recordings are stored,” Gus argued. “But hurry up. We’ll be here. If we can find the tapes and get out before you arrive, I’ll text you a location to meet up.”
“Be careful, you two.” The line went silent.
“You have the key Ellen gave you?” With every mile they drew closer, tension had begun flooding his system. Was he making a mistake? He knew Augustine was a deeply capable woman, but she wasn’t trained for stealth or combat. Neither was he. If she got hurt, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.
“I’ve got it. Why don’t you keep the car running? I’ll dash into the barn and grab the tapes.”
“No, Augustine,” he protested.
“I can do this without you holding my hand. The place has been abandoned for years. It should be an easy in-easy out. We’ll do the whole debrief thing in London—the mission and us. There’s the farm, up ahead.”
Yes, he could see that. Well, he spotted a couple of dilapidated buildings that looked as if they could be used as the set of a horror movie. Still, she was probably right. The faster they got out of here and back to civilization, the better he would feel. The sooner they could discuss their future.
“Be quick. If you aren’t back in five minutes, I’m coming in after you.”
“She told me exactly where to look, so it shouldn’t even take that long.” Gus clutched the key. “If I can’t find it, I’ll come back, but we can’t go back to London empty handed. I just wish like hell that Kemp hadn’t managed to ditch Connor.”
Every instinct inside him told him that he needed to turn around and get her out of here now.
He backed off. He didn’t want to be the interfering douchebag he’d been last night. She was smart and brave, and he believed in her. And if she needed to finish this quest she’d started to understand Mad’s death, as well as the murder of her father and the others, then he would let her try.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Gus stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “I thought I would have to jump out of the car.”
Roman wouldn’t be surprised if she still did exactly that.
He slowed and pulled into the long earthen drive that led to the house. The grass was muddy from the rain the previous night. “I’m not going to be able to get you much closer. I’m worried about getting stuck in the mud.”
“I’m glad I switched to flats. And for the record…” She sent him a long, earnest glance as he pulled the car to a stop. “I love you, Roman.”
She was out the door before he could say a word, slamming it behind her. He watched as she ran toward the barn. He hadn’t said it in return. He hadn’t had the chance to tell her that he loved her, too.
Those were some of the sweetest words he’d ever heard. She wouldn’t say them in an attempt to wheedle something out of him. She was never coy. Not Gus. She would only say those words if she meant them all the way to her soul.
He had no idea what he’d done to deserve a woman as amazing as Augustine Spencer. He only knew that he was never going to let her go.
He rolled down the window, trying to get a better view of her. She opened the barn door, pushing it against the thick grass that had grown there. At least it would keep the thing open so she would have some light.
“I love you, too, Gus,” he murmured. No, she couldn’t hear the words now, but he’d needed to say them.
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” a voice to his left said.
He whipped his gaze around and found himself staring right down the barrel of a gun. When he glimpsed the person holding it, he realized who the dangerous villain really was.
Gus was never going to let him live this down. Heart revving, Roman raised his hands and prayed they both lived long enough to see her one last time.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gus pulled open the heavy barn door, flooding the place with light.
One glance made her shudder. She could have pretended the barn was way less creepy in the dark. The interior was filled with dusty, cobweb-covered farm equipment and empty stalls where the animals were once penned. The remnants of rotting wood from the crumbling loft above littered the floor, mingling with the years-old straw. Everything smelled old, dank. It felt still and abandoned. Forsaken.
She stepped inside, holding the tack room key in one hand and reaching in her purse to pull out her gun with the other.
I love you, Roman.
Stupid girl.
Why had she opened her mouth? She hadn’t planned on telling him. Ever. She ached with the thought of him planning some new life out in the ’burbs when they returned to DC. Why would he mention it to her? Had he been giving her a heads-up that when they got Stateside again, he’d be splitting off to find his glorious future? Or because he now wanted to include her? He’d left her once because he didn’t see her as capable of bringing him peace. Had that changed after last night? They’d shared honesty, along with their bodies. To Gus, it sure felt as if they’d shared their hearts, too. She had felt peaceful in a way she hadn’t in years.
Had Roman felt it, too? Or was she kidding herself?
Gus crept forward. The boards beneath her feet squeaked. She paused, listening, before breathing a sigh of rueful relief. She was letting Roman’s fears about this simple retrieval job creep into her head. She understood his worries. Kemp was wandering the area. For all that he was pretty, he was definitely dangerous. But without talking to Ellen House, how could he possibly know to come here? How could anyone?
A moment later, she heard a faint scratching a few feet to her right and nearly jumped out of her skin. Stifling a scream, she saw a little rodent scurry across the floor and dart back into the shadows.
Damn it. She could handle mice. Mostly. Rats…not so much. But she had to keep her cool. If she screamed, Roman would come running to save her. The notion was chivalrous, if outdated. She was capable. Still, Roman cared enough to want to save her, and that touched her more than she wanted to admit. She simply didn’t need rescuing.
Gus scanned the room again, doing her best to look past the eeriness. Where was the damn tack room? Ellen had said it was to the right, past the last stall. So she strode deeper into the barn, every step taking her farther from the sunlight trickling through the open doors and into the shadows.
She hadn’t expected Roman to react as he had. When she’d blurted out that she’d lost their child, she’d expected anything from a shrug to anger from him, not the deep and seemingly fathomless sorrow that had welled up. He’d pointed all his blame inward, and she hadn’t been able to stand that.
Emotionally, he’d isolated himself in that moment. She’d realized that if she didn’t do something, he might always be alone. And in forgiving Roman, she’d found a place where she didn’t feel quite as alone, either.
She caught a glint of metal in the otherwise darkened recess of the barn. Hopefully the lock to the tack room, but if she wanted to know for sure she had to exchange her pistol for her cell phone so she’d have a flashlight of sorts.
Once Gus eased the gun inside her purse and pulled the device free, the light from the phone illuminated the dark spaces she hadn’t been able to see previously. Unfortunately, that didn’t make the visual less creepy. Farm tools were terrifying things. An entire wall where rusty scythes, hoes, and rakes hung in front of her almost made her squeal. A stiff breeze blew, rattling the loose wallboards, making the tools clatter and ping.
Think happy thoughts, she told herself.
At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single one.
Instead, she’d focus on what would happen when she returned to the car. Maybe Roman would tell her that he loved her, too. Probably not, but a girl could dream. More likely, he’d focus on the fact that they had the tapes in hand now. On the drive back to London, they might discuss what was on those recordings and how to use them to protect all they held d
ear.
No, he would call the guys and they would discuss their next moves. Or he might take that time alone to gently let her down.
Gus just didn’t know.
Last night was messing with her head. When they’d lain together and talked about the child they’d lost, she’d felt a deeper bond form. But maybe Roman hadn’t felt the same connection.
None of that mattered right now. She just needed to retrieve these tapes, get out of here, and hightail it back to London as soon as possible. Roman’s horror-movie anxiety had rubbed off on her. Getting out of the creeptastic, probably-a-serial-killer’s lair became the thought uppermost in her head.
She flashed the light of her phone toward the back of the barn where she’d seen the glint of metal and caught sight of a doorknob. Score!
Picking up the pace, she moved toward the tack room. Her hand shook as she raised the key to the jagged opening. This had to be the right place. Gus had no idea what she would do if she found the location but the tapes had been destroyed. She had to pray enough evidence remained on them for a super-smart techie to extract.
The lock was rusty. She was able to force the key in but it wouldn’t turn all the way. She needed two hands, damn it. She set her phone on a nearby shelf, the light peering down so she could see. The knob felt cold in her hand as she held it steady and turned the key.
The door creaked as she opened it. Gus grabbed her phone, lighting up the inside of the dilapidated tack room. There it was, a single box marked PRIVATE and sealed with duct tape. It was the only item left inside the room, so she was going with it. The box even fit in her oversized bag.
As Gus slipped it in, she breathed a sigh of relief.
And then she tried to scream because a hard arm snaked around her waist and a hand clapped over her mouth.
“Hush, Augustine,” a deep voice whispered in her ear as a hard body blanketed her from behind. “We’re not alone and if you walk out that barn door, I’m afraid someone’s going to die.”
Pure fear sliced through her. She knew that voice. Matthew Kemp was holding her immobile, trapping her. Silencing her.
“Drop the phone. If they see the light, they’ll know our position.”
Yes, Roman would find her, and that seemed like a good idea. She clutched the source of the light. Kemp could either let go of her waist or her mouth if he wanted to make her drop the phone. Then she would run or scream.
“Don’t fight me. I’m not the bad guy,” he whispered. “I was sent here by my boss to watch out for you. I’ve had a tracker on your phone for days. Unfortunately, I think my competition has had a tracker on Roman’s, but I couldn’t get to it without someone figuring out I’m working this problem from a different angle. Drop it, Gus. They’re going to come in here any minute.”
She held fast.
He sighed. “We don’t have time for this… I suspect Darcy Hildebrandt is working for the Russians, and if I’m right, she’s out there with Roman right now. She’ll use him to force you to give up the tapes.”
Kemp knew way more than Gus had imagined. If Darcy worked for the Russians, who was his boss? Zack? Maybe the president had been using his own detail to do some dirty work and kept it quiet for discretion. Gus hadn’t considered that…but it was logical. And his accusation about Darcy suddenly helped her understand the woman’s bizarre behavior. No one smiled that much. Ever.
Unless it was all BS.
She let the phone drop into her purse, the flashlight still on, but hidden by the heavy leather of the Louis Vuitton bag.
“Very good. We need to move out of here. I’ve got a way out the back, but we have to be quick.”
Dropping her phone a few inches from her reach was one thing. But letting Kemp haul her away from here—away from Roman when he might be in danger—was not happening. She kicked back at his shin.
Kemp groaned. “Hey, stop. We have to move and fast. I told you Darcy is here, and she won’t be alone. She’ll have at least two men with her. I’ve got to get you to safety. That’s my main job, along with recovering those tapes.”
She shook her head. She wasn’t leaving Roman. If that crazy bitch had him, Gus had to save him.
“Come on.” The agent started dragging her back, into the dark.
Gus kicked at him, fighting and writhing in an attempt to break his hold.
Something large banged into the barn door, and Kemp shifted with a curse, forcibly hauling her with him into the deepest shadows.
“Be still,” he hissed.
“Keep moving, Roman. Don’t make me tell you again. I know she’s in here. I saw her.” Darcy sounded nasally and arrogant.
Gus stopped struggling in Kent’s grip. So, he’d been right about Darcy. It looked as if he might be right about everything else. But there was one thing only she and Roman knew: Connor was on his way. She had to somehow keep Roman alive until Connor could get here. He would handle things for sure. She just needed more time.
How did she buy them some?
“I don’t know what you saw, but Augustine told me she was going to the house. That’s where the tapes are.” Roman’s voice was strong and perhaps a bit too loud, as though he was trying to ensure that she heard him, despite wherever she might be hiding.
“I sincerely doubt it,” Darcy replied. “But just in case, Gene, go and check the house. Once you’re done, get the car ready. We’ll need to leave here in a hurry. Leon, stay with me. I still think she came in this way.”
“Excellent,” Kemp whispered in her ear. “We should still be able to get out, but we’ll have to ease back very quietly. There’s an exit in the opposite corner we can get through.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t be stubborn. Calder will be fine.”
She shook her head more adamantly.
“See, she’s not here,” Roman insisted. “You’ll find her at the house.”
“I’m sure you’d like me to believe that, but that whore of yours is hiding here. How does that make you feel? You know, I did my homework on the whole nasty lot of you. I was rather surprised to see a man like you would accept Maddox Crawford’s seconds.”
Gus wanted to punch Darcy’s pretty, uptight face. She would do it exactly the way her father had taught her, too. He’d told her to envision her fist plowing straight through the object she was punching. Yeah. Gus would love that about now.
Because Darcy was doing some punching of her own, albeit verbally. The woman knew exactly where to hit Roman—right in his considerable pride.
“I was definitely surprised you were willing to tell me—or anyone—that you’re sleeping with her,” the bitch went on. “I admit, I thought the way to get this deal done was to have sex with you myself. You have a reputation for being a finicky lover, so I did my best to be cheerful, if a bit reserved and compliant at times. But I should have known that every man loves a whore.”
Gus winced. Darcy’s words would hit Roman in the gut because he saw them as true. It would surely make him blow, since image was very important to him. And if he lost his cool, they would all be in trouble.
“First of all, Mad took care of her when I couldn’t, and if he got some comfort out of it, then who the hell am I to blame him? She’s the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’m damn lucky Mad wasn’t smart enough to put a ring on her finger. Second, the reason I’m so finicky about women is that I’ve already had the sexiest one I know. So why would I want anyone else, especially you? That was never going to happen. I could barely remember your name when my Gus was around. And third, if you call her a whore again, I swear to god I’ll forget I’m a gentleman who doesn’t hit females.”
Of all the words she’d expected to come from Roman’s mouth, that speech was the least likely.
There had been no shame or doubt in his voice, only pride and anger directed at the woman taunting Gus. Roman hadn’t sounded like a man who wanted to keep his lover under wraps. He’d sounded like a man in love.
He’d sounded like a husband.
Darcy scoffed. “I expected better from you. Leon, check the barn. She’s hiding in here somewhere. And be careful. Women like her tend to know where to hit a man.”
A shaft of light blinked into existence. She could see the stream emanating from a flashlight. It began a slow rotation around the space.
Kemp’s arm clamped tighter around her as he tried to huddle as far from that light as possible. “They’ll kill us all once they get those tapes in their hands. If I let you go so I can get to my gun, will you promise to behave?”
If Kemp was willing to take out a few of the enemy, she would play along—as long as he didn’t lump Roman in that camp. Then if Kemp decided to cross them and possibly to blackmail the president, Connor could put his skills to good use.
“Yeah,” she breathed.
“Why are you doing this, Darcy? You have to know my government won’t look kindly on yours trying to blackmail the president of the United States.”
There was the shuffling of feet and a slight wobbling of the floor as that light continued to move around the room. Leon was being very thorough in his search.
“I’m sure my government would be horrified, but MI6 doesn’t pay what it used to,” Darcy replied. “That’s right. I am a spy sent to make a general report on the president and his team. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. Except I serve two masters, and the one in Moscow pays so much better. Once I hand over whatever you’ve been looking for to my contacts, I’ll never have to work again.”
“No, you won’t,” Roman shot back. “Because you’ll be dead. Everyone who’s gotten into bed with the Russians is. Follow the yellow brick road and what you’ll find is a trail of bodies, many of whom thought they were going to Oz. I assure you, your contact will take the package you hand him and put a bullet in your head. It’s the way the Bratva deals with outsiders, even helpful ones.”
“Not a sound.” Kemp lifted his hand from Gus’s mouth slowly, as though waiting and ready to pounce again if she screamed out.
But she knew better. Shrieking now would only have bullets flying everywhere. Roman would be in the middle of that. Besides, she didn’t want Kemp’s tight hold again. She wanted her arms free so she could find her own gun. Then she’d feel better.