“I’ve got someone anyway,” she said, and jerked. She clearly did not mean to say that out loud.
I stared at her. She shrugged slowly.
Shaking my head, I flicked my finger between us. “You and me, we’re talking after this.”
“You are going to be too busy getting laid to talk to me, and I’m going to be too busy spoiling my children.”
My face flamed red with that comment. I had hoped, before that damn phone call, that I would already be getting laid. Instead I was here on a rescue mission for my…boyfriend? Maybe? And my niece and nephew.
Also, I was trying to figure out who the hell Smoke really was. Some of the people he spoke to called him Colonel, some of them called him Agent, and some just used his last name. I had the feeling that if we weren’t on his good side, we’d be in really deep shit.
“Are we ready to roll out?” he called to the FBI agents around us.
There was the noise of an affirmative, and a bunch of them climbed into the same cars they had arrived in. There was an official government Suburban that was left for the seven of us, and it was going to lead the party.
We all climbed in and to my shock, Noah climbed into the driver’s seat.
“What the hell?”
He turned the engine over and grinned at me all the way in the back. “I had aspirations to be a stunt driver when I was eighteen. I’m super qualified to drive this thing.”
“He’s still on record at the CIA as a qualified field driver,” Smoke said, buckling his seat belt in the front.
“I get recertified once in a while,” Noah answered. “No one can teach you to drive like the CIA.”
I clearly had to up my secret talent game. Singing like Pavarotti wasn’t getting me points in this crowd.
Uriah
Someone opened the dooraround midnight and a gun poked its way in. The same lieutenant from earlier appeared behind it, holding a box.
“Food,” he said. “Stay where you are. I’m putting it inside the door.”
I nodded and waited. I didn’t know who these people thought I was. I mean, I could wield a pair of pinking shears like no one’s business, but put the muzzle of a gun in my face and I went into survival mode.
And, apparently, protect the children mode. Who knew?
He put the box down just inside the door and backed out under the gun.
These guys were idiots. I was going to attack them unarmed and with two kids behind me? Just because they would run for their lives and leave the kids didn’t mean I would.
But they probably didn’t think that hard.
The bar clanged on our little prison and I walked over to pick up the box. Carly and Devon were curled together on the mattress. I had pulled some fresh hay out of the bale and covered the mattress as best as I could with it. I didn’t know what the hell was living in or on that thing and I couldn’t stand to think of them laying on it. So hay it was.
“Anything you think is safe to eat in there?” Carly whispered.
“It looks like they called out to the local diner,” I answered. “It’s all take out plates.” I lifted the first container out and put it on the mattress as I sat. “Pasta? Probably.” I held out another one. “Hamburger and fries.” I lifted the last one. “Chicken finger. Fries.”
I heard her stomach growl. We had to take a chance that this was safe to eat.
When I looked up at her, I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. “He remembers.”
“Who? What?”
“I always ordered pasta when he took us to dinner. Devon always ate chicken fingers.”
Oh, God that was right. This asshole was theirfather. He was a big old sack of shit. And then he comes back and feeds them—
