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  Emma waited.

  At last, he glanced up. “I’ve tried to tell myself to not worry, but I can’t seem to help it. The whole drive here—I’ve had second thoughts.”

  Emma gave a start. If Vince regretted bringing them to the cabin, would he ask them to leave? She forced the words to sound casual and panic-free. “About what, exactly?”

  “Not insisting Sandra join us.” He pressed his lips together and stared past Emma out the window. “I know she’s a pain, and I’ll never understand her attitude toward Holly, but she is my wife. I should’ve tried harder.”

  Emma smiled in relief. “I don’t think Sandra would have come even if you begged. She seemed pretty insistent on staying behind.”

  “I suppose you’re right, but the guilt’s giving me heartburn, you know?” He closed his hand into a fist and pressed it against his sternum. “What if more men show up at the farm? What if she leads them straight here?”

  The possibility hadn’t occurred to Emma at all. She swallowed, hard. “Do you really think your wife would sell you out? That she’d give us up?”

  Vince hesitated, worrying the brim of his hat some more. “She doesn’t know exactly where this place is. Only the general vicinity. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Hell, she’d probably draw them a map if it meant saving her own skin.” He wiped a hand over his hair and shoved his hat back on. “Part of me worries we should’ve dragged her along just so she couldn’t talk.”

  Emma felt for the man. It couldn’t be easy coming to terms with the true nature of your spouse. If she were in his shoes, Emma wasn’t sure she would have the strength to let go. She thought about John and how she’d come to more than depend on him. Her feelings were more complicated than she wanted to admit. If he turned on her, would she be able to let him go?

  She shook off her spiraling thoughts and reached out to give Vince’s arm another squeeze. “No one expects you to pretend Sandra didn’t exist. It’s okay to mourn the loss of that relationship.” It was something she needed to explain to Holly as well. Maybe acknowledging her pain and the harsh reality of their new world would help the teenager adjust.

  “I just hope I haven’t put us in a worse position.”

  “We’re miles away from Dane’s men. He doesn’t know where we are. We have shelter, food, weapons. And we’re all alive.” A genuine smile full of warmth and gratitude warmed Emma’s cheeks. “You've done so much for us, Vince. I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you.”

  He glanced around. “You can start by helping me spruce this place up. It’s been a decade since anyone's used the place but me.” He leaned closer and his eyes shone with a bit of his former spirit. “I’m not exactly keen on the homemaking when left to my natural state.”

  She laughed and the stress of everything eased. “How about we round up Ray and Gloria and you show us the rest of the property?”

  It didn’t take long for the tour. Vince pointed out the outhouse and the creek running along the rear of the property that provided fresh water and fish, the stack of wood for the stove, and the trails leading off to other areas of his land. With almost two hundred acres, Vince had deer stands in several locations and a blind for hunting in poor conditions.

  Gloria and Raymond set to unloading the vehicles and Emma helped Vince clean the cabin of insects and spiders who’d made it a home while he’d been gone. Now that they were at the property, Emma understood Sandra’s refusal to come.

  It wasn’t exactly the lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to at the farmhouse. With no running water or electricity, and barely enough shelter for the six of them, they would need to figure out alternate arrangements soon. But for now, they were off-grid, tucked away in the middle of acres of trees, miles away from any link to their old lives.

  It was early evening before they finished, and Emma finally headed back to the Jeep to rouse John and help him inside. She pulled a rear door open and froze. It was empty. What? That’s not—

  She spun in a slow arc, squinting to peer into the shadows. Raymond and Gloria leaned against the now-empty Explorer, heads bent toward each other in affection. Holly stood by the chestnut mare, running her fingers down her mane.

  No sign of John. Emma rubbed the center of her palm with her thumb in worry. He’d been quiet in the car, refusing to engage in conversation even when awake. The night before, around the fire, he’d barely eaten, hardly spoken. Was his leg worse? She hadn’t stopped to check on his injuries since they left the farm. Was he hiding too much pain?

  “If you’re looking for John, he hobbled off that way.” Holly pointed across the clearing toward a little trail leading into the woods.”

  Emma hurried to the girl’s side. “Was he okay?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. He barely said hello.”

  “When was this?”

  Holly glanced up toward the sky, trying to remember. “Maybe an hour ago?”

  An hour? Emma thanked her and turned toward the overgrown trail. He might have gone off for a bit of solitude, but it didn’t sit well with Emma. He’d been alone for hours in the Jeep. If he overestimated his strength and was out there, passed out in the woods, she needed to find him before it grew too dark to see. She took off down the trail, hoping the bad feeling swirling in her gut was misplaced.

  Chapter Seven

  JOHN

  John crouched in a clearing, forehead in his hand, a few hundred yards away from Vince’s cabin. Somewhere between the delirium of blood loss and the reality of intense pain, the truth hit him. The minute he decided not to kill Emma, he’d made one wrong turn after another. He should have gone to Dane that instant, explained the situation, and tried to make a deal. Back then, before Nick, before Willy, before he’d broken Dane’s trust and turned the closest person to a father he’d ever known into an enemy, he’d had a chance.

  But now? Now they were faced with terrible odds. Dane barely tapped his arsenal to date, sending a handful of men with a handful of weapons their way. Now that Willy was dead, Dane might send it all.

  John thought over the cache of supplies he knew about. Enough guns and ammo to equip a small guerilla army. An MRAP Dane brokered off a police department looking to divest. Night vision, infrared, drones. Every kind of covert surveillance gadget on the market.

  Not to mention the vehicles. John swallowed. They would never out run him.

  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out the satellite phone Vince lifted from Willy back at the farmhouse. While everyone had been occupied with unloading and tending to the animals, John rifled through Vince’s bag and found it. His finger hovered over the power button.

  Maybe he could find a way to stop everything. Maybe Dane would accept a trade. He hit the button and waited for the device to power on before making the call.

  “Since Willy’s dead, I can only assume this is John or one of his compatriots.”

  “It’s me.”

  “I’m a bit surprised to hear from you, seeing as you’ve done your best to burn your bridges.” Dane’s voice held a tone of contempt John had never heard before.

  He tried to sound contrite. “I’m sorry about Willy. If there had been any other way—”

  “There’s always been another way, John. It’s called completing the mission.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why on earth not?”

  “These women—they don’t deserve to die.”

  Dane laughed and it chilled John. Did he used to sound like that? Was that who he was before he met Emma?

  “Since when has that ever mattered?” Dane asked. “You have a contract. You execute the contract. End of story.”

  John rubbed his eyes. He was getting nowhere. “This isn’t like the other missions. Everything has changed.”

  “So, the scenery’s a bit different. Pretend you’re in a third-world country dispatching some drug lord’s old lady. Not like you haven’t done that before.”

  How could he make Dane understand? He ground his teeth together. “What if we make a trade? Me for Emma and Gloria. You call off the dogs and I come in.”

  “Now John, you can’t tell me you think so little of yourself that you’d be willing to give it all up for the sake of these two civilians.”

  “If it meant saving their lives, I’d consider it.”

  Silence stretched across the line for so long, John pulled the phone away to check the power. “I’m sorry to say it’s a package deal,” Dane responded at last. “The contract it’s still in play. Cross and Sanchez must be eliminated.”

  “Can’t the contract be rescinded? Can’t you cancel it?” He stood and the pain of his leg dimmed his vision. John lowered back down to keep from passing out. “There has to be a way.”

  “I’m sorry, John, but the government is insistent.”

  He rocked back on his heels. Dane never acknowledged the source of any hit. If an operative became compromised, they were to know as little as possible. It was one of his only rules. John chose his words carefully. “You’re telling me the United States government ordered these kills?”

  “You know this is against protocol, me even mentioning the source of the contract. But seeing as you need some encouragement, yes, the government ordered the hits. And they aren’t backing down.”

  John frowned at the dirt and used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Even through the fog of pain and infection, he didn’t buy the story. “That makes no sense. They should be worried about the looting and the starvation that’s right around the corner. Not a couple of researchers who won’t testify until next year, if ever.”

  “I don’t write the orders; I just carry them out.”

  That was BS and John knew it. He paused, racking his brain to come up with a way to get at the truth. “Do you have any
info about what’s happening at the federal level? National guard? Army? Anyone mobilizing?”

  The smug smile carried across the phone. “Now John, it almost sounds like you’re asking your old boss for intel. You know I can’t give it to you if you’re insisting on insubordination.”

  “Maybe I’m on the fence.” He’d lie if he had to. No question.

  “Well, what I can tell you is that everything is in a state of flux. The department responsible for our orders is still more than willing to reward us for a mission well-completed, if you catch my drift.”

  “I’m not sure I do.” He poked at the dirt with his shoe. “How about you spell it out for me?”

  “Any interest in becoming a politician? Governor of, say, Mississippi or Alabama? We’re pretty much spoken for down here in the Southwest, but really, what’s it matter in the end? Power is power, am I right?”

  John swallowed down sticky spit as the implications of Dane’s offer sunk in. “You’re offering me a governorship? All for doing my job?”

  “You come back into the fold, Johnny boy, and the world could be your oyster.”

  It didn’t make sense. Was Dane aligning himself with a faction within the government? A branch of the military? Was there about to be a coup? “I need more information. I can’t agree to this without knowing more.”

  Dane chuckled. “I’m afraid that’s above your pay grade. For now.”

  “How do you know these people will be successful? Isn’t it a gamble?”

  “It’s a calculated risk, I’ll admit. But it’s one worth taking. Believe me.”

  John ran his thumb nail along his index finger, thinking over everything Dane said. There was simply no way it could be true. Dane had always inflated his connections, claiming he had contacts at the highest level in the government. But this? Offering John something as lofty as a governorship all for killing a pair of research scientists? It made zero sense.

  But what if? He ran a hand through his hair. He needed to string Dane along. Buy them some time. If Dane really was connected to some power struggle within the government, then running might be futile. An idea came to him. Not one he liked, but it might be Emma’s only chance.

  “You still there, John?”

  He forced the words out. “Say I’m interested. What are the next steps?”

  “That’s my boy.” Dane’s nod of affection soured John’s stomach. “Just do the deed and come back home. I’ll take it from there.”

  Not what John wanted to hear. He tried to deal. “What if I’d rather stay in the wind? I could send you video proof. For your men on the inside. You could reach out when your contacts have an offer on the table.”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know how the government operates. They like to keep their assets close for accountability.”

  And there it was. A lie so obvious, Dane had to know John wouldn’t buy it. The government didn’t care whether their soldiers or Marines or CIA operatives were hanging out at headquarters or closing out the bar every night in some dive as long as they were available when needed. Dane wasn’t interested in John returning to the fold. He just wanted him within striking distance.

  “I’ll need some time to think it over.”

  “Tell me where you are.” Dane’s voice rippled with a dangerous edge. “I can have you extracted and get you back here, living your best life.”

  John jerked as a branch broke behind him. “I’ll think it over.” He ended the call and powered off the phone before shoving it in his pocket.

  “What are you doing all the way out here?” Emma’s voice held a note of uncertainty and John twisted around. She stood ten feet away, arms wrapped around her middle. How long had she been listening?

  He went with the truth. “Figuring out where I went wrong.”

  “With what, exactly?”

  John ran a hand down his face. “My life. This assignment. You.”

  Emma retreated a step, hand reaching out for the nearest tree. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “About what?”

  “The contract.”

  John stood, but pain slowed his movements. He stumbled over the forest floor and his answer. “No.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  He dug a fingernail into his palm to focus his brain. “Back at the apartment—when you and Raymond left, I was furious.”

  “That we went in?”

  “That I couldn’t go with you. I knew it was a set-up. It had to be. When the first sentry showed up outside, leaning against the wall like a punk lookout for a two-bit drug dealer, I grabbed the rifle and took aim. Old me would have shot first, never questioned.”

  Emma didn’t respond.

  “I sat there, finger on the trigger and all I could think about is how disappointed you’d have been.” He dropped his hand and took a step closer. “You’ve given me a gift, Emma. One I don’t know how to repay.”

  “What’s that?” She gripped the tree so hard, the tendon on her neck stood out in relief.

  “My humanity.” He took another step. “You’ve reminded me it’s okay to have emotions. To feel guilt and regret and—” He faltered.

  “Is that all?”

  John swallowed. This wasn’t something he was good at, but for her, he was willing to try. “No.”

  She stepped closer, chin tilted toward his face. The setting sun played across her pale face, bringing out the smattering of freckles across her nose. It turned a patch of her hair ablaze and John longed to kiss her.

  Her lips parted, her eyelids fluttered, and he rushed to stop her. “I called Dane.” If she felt for him an ounce of what he did for her, she deserved to know.

  Emma blinked, startled. “You what?”

  He pulled out the satellite phone and held it up. “I was fishing for information. Trying to find out if there was any way I could get him to call off the dogs and leave us alone. But there was something about him,” John shook his head. “It wasn’t right. The things he said. If I had to wager, I’d say he doesn’t have a clue where we are.”

  Emma sagged in relief. “We should tell the others.”

  John didn’t have the strength to argue with Raymond. Not tonight. “Let’s wait.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m exhausted, Emma. I don’t know if I can stand up to Ray right now.”

  Emma frowned. “I don’t like keeping it a secret.”

  “Just for tonight. Please.”

  “Fine.” She crossed her arms and whatever spell she’d been under was gone.

  John eased past her and headed back to camp, trying to hide the limp in his step. A good night’s sleep and he’d be better. He’d have a clear head and a healed body and a plan to deal with Dane. It would happen. It had to.

  Chapter Eight

  EMMA

  Vince smoothed a wrinkled and worn map out across the table with both hands. “It’s been a while since I fished this thing out, but it’s mostly accurate still, I believe.” He drew a small x with a pencil in the middle of a gap in the roads. “This is us. We’re about ten miles from the closest major road as the crow flies, fifteen to twenty in a vehicle.”

  “How far is a major town?” Emma leaned over the map to read the names. She’d never been to Texas, and apart from the major cities she heard rattled off on the news, didn’t know the first thing about it. The topography and population density were a mystery.

  “Mt. Pleasant has about 15,000 people. It’s down here.” Vince jabbed a finger on the town name. No good access road to the south, so we either trespass through the neighboring property or we drive around.”

  “What’s the difference in miles?”

  He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Fifteen if we managed to find a direct route and nobody shot us. Fifty if we can’t.”

  Raymond whistled. “That’s a hell of a difference.”

  “I’ve kept this land all these years for a reason. Seclusion makes for mighty fine hunting.” He slid his finger over to another intersection of major roads. “This is our biggest city within a day.”