CHAPTER NINE
Four days of hiding out was making Dyson restless. It was still better than spending all his time in a small cell, but he hated that he couldn't go out and do anything. There was only so much TV he could watch before it didn't interest him anymore.
What started out as a two-day hideaway had quickly increased when the police search for him grew bigger than expected. It was as if they were hunting down some major serial killer, not a man who saved kids and brought justice to sexual predators.
It pissed him off how they were trying to make him seem so dangerous. He wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it, and the people he went after more than deserved what they got. He wanted to get out there and tell his side of the story, but that was impossible.
He was impressed how many others were coming forward in his defense, talking about how they might not be alive if it wasn't for him saving them, or how they would still be being abused if he hadn't stopped the predators.
One group of women who were most vocal were from a sting they'd done in Nevada a few years back. It had been a huge sex trafficking ring they'd shut down. Eight women they'd saved were speaking out, telling their stories, and trying to change the way the media was viewing him. He wanted to thank each one personally because it couldn't be easy talking about what had happened to them.
Sitting quiet and having no control was killing him.
He still hadn't talked to Bryon or anyone from the team, but they were all supposed to be arriving within an hour or two so they could see him before he left for wherever Bryon was sending him.
He was relieved they were making the trip and he didn't have to travel back there where the search was even more intense.
"You want a sandwich?" Rob asked.
Dyson turned away from the balcony railing where he'd been leaning and nodded. "Yeah, sounds good." He followed Rob into the kitchen. "Any news?"
Rob reached for the loaf of bread. "Bryon is about thirty minutes out and said the rest of the team isn't far behind him. They're going to spend the night and head back tomorrow after we leave."
"Still won't tell me anything about where we're going?" Dyson asked.
"Nope. Bryon will fill you in as soon as he gets here. It's better coming from him. I can't answer all your questions, and he can. If I tell you anything, it's just going to get you thinking too much and assuming things, and you don't need that."
That much was true, but it was killing him not knowing where his new life was going to be. All he was sure of was he was staying in the United States. That was a huge area of possibilities. He just prayed it wasn't some small town. He needed the city. He never did well in rural areas. "So what will you do once you're done babysitting me?"
Rob shrugged. "I have nothing planned, but that doesn't mean something won't pop up. I usually don't go too long without work. There's always someone that needs rescuing. Once I drop you off, I'll head to New Orleans. I have a house there I'm remodeling. I'll work on it until the next call comes in."
"So you remodel homes when you're not helping break felons out of jail?" Dyson took the sandwich that Rob pushed toward him.
"I enjoy it. Gives me something to focus on. Once I get it fixed up, then I'll sell it and move on to another somewhere else. Gives me the chance to see the country. I never know where my next home will be. I keep pretty busy, so it takes time to finish each project. I'm usually in one location for a year or more."
"How long have you been doing this?"
"Since I left the military about fifteen years ago. Helps keep my skills sharp without all the authority breathing down my neck all the time. I can do my own thing, be my own boss." Rob took his own sandwich to the table. "I'm associated with a group who specializes in this stuff, but we're all independent. We work together at times, but not always."
Dyson wanted to ask questions, but knew better. Groups like this didn't share many details. He was lucky to get the information he had. "Well, I owe you my life. I won't forget everything you've done for me."
"You didn't deserve to be stuck in prison the rest of your life. What you did wasn't a crime in my opinion. I think most people would let you walk free if given the choice. Many would probably be happy to let you continue doing what you do. If you have any more issues, tell Bryon to contact me and I'll help you out, but hopefully, after this blows over and you settle into your new life, you won't have any problems."
"All depends on what that new life is." Dyson sighed.
Rob's phone beeped with a message. He read it, then glanced up at Dyson. "Well, you'll know soon enough. Bryon's about to pull onto the property."
Dyson quickly swallowed his bite and stood, taking the rest of his sandwich with him, and headed toward the garage.
"He's parking out front. Use the front door, but make sure it's him before you open it." Rob shoved the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth as he got up and followed Dyson to the front of the house.
Dyson stood back from the window, but was able to see a blue sedan pull up the driveway. He could make out a person in the passenger seat, but couldn't tell who. "He's not alone."
"Probably that girl of his that he keeps swearing isn't serious." Rob smirked.
"Becca. Yeah, that would make sense. Those two are something. They act married, but still swear it's casual. When he got shot a while back, she wouldn't leave his side. I don't know why he doesn't make an honest woman out of her. She's completely devoted to him." Dyson finished off his sandwich before wiping his hands down his pants.
"Yeah, we don't talk often, but when we do, he talks an awful lot about her. Not sure why he won't admit anything. It's not like they have any reason to hide what's going on." Rob opened the door as Bryon and Becca climbed out of the car.
