Running Scared Read online

  “What the hell?” Justin muttered softly.

  Malak stood beside two young women, standing in a corner. “They are from a village close-by. Their father has sold them, and they are to be taken tomorrow. I’m asking you to rescue them.”

  Their low-risk, no-worries op had just become a major complication.

  Chapter Two

  Swirls of steam filled the tiny bathroom. Riley stood beneath a scalding-hot shower and let the tension drain from her body. Even though the op hadn’t been perfect and more complicated than expected, it had been successful. Thanks to McCall’s connections, two young women who would have been enslaved for years had been relocated and were now out of harm’s way. And she and Justin had gotten the information they needed. This time tomorrow, several more young women would be rescued from sexual enslavement and years of servitude.

  This op was somewhat different than most. A few weeks ago, Taylor Vaughn, a freelance journalist embedded in the small community on the outskirts of Sinjar, had contacted Noah. An up-and-coming wannabe terrorist group had been causing trouble in the area. These men, about twenty in number, were apparently hoping to join the ranks of a much larger and more vicious terrorist group. It was rumored that they were rejects and cast-offs from a defunct Al-Qaeda cell. They were gaining strength and notoriety throughout the region by kidnapping young girls and women and selling them.

  This type of horror wasn’t new to the region. The journalist had originally come to the community to write a story about everyday life within the war-torn country. When Vaughn had learned of this new group, she’d known it was only a matter of time before they reached her location. With her help, as well as Malak’s intel of when the kidnappings were taking place, the LCR Elite operatives would hijack the transport to rescue the women, as well as the reporter, who planned to allow herself to become a kidnapped victim also.

  Despite the heat of the shower, a shiver ran up Riley’s spine. Though she understood why the journalist felt the story was worth the risk, she wondered if the woman had really known what she was getting herself into. Volunteering to become a hostage to conscienceless and soulless men was a far cry from talking to sources about it. The ugly reality of enslavement, even with the promise of rescue, wasn’t an experience anyone could understand unless they’d lived it.

  Pushing those dark thoughts aside, she gathered her long, thick hair and scrubbed hard, relishing the clean feeling. Three days without a shower reminded her far too much of the days and weeks she’d been forced to go without. The refreshing scent of lemons and limes made her skin zing. She heard a tuneless, humming noise and almost dropped her soap in shock. The sound was slightly off-key but musical nonetheless. The most astonishing part of all was that it came from her. Simply amazing.

  From the time she was five years old until she was eighteen, music had filled her heart and her world. When her parents had realized her talent, voice and piano lessons had followed. She had taken to both as if she were born to them. Music had been an essential part of her soul, feeding her creativity and giving her the freedom to fly.

  On her eighteenth birthday, the music had stopped inside her head and her heart. Having no choice, she had continued playing, but music no longer filled her with joy and peace. It had become a duty, forced upon her. The possibility of music moving through her again had seemed as out of reach as the stars.

  Shaking her head at this phenomenal occurrence, Riley rinsed the soap from her hair, applied a liberal dose of conditioner, and worked it through the long strands. She once again rinsed, and then, feeling squeaky clean and almost lighthearted, she turned off the water and exited the shower.

  The tiny room was filled with steam, and she opened the door to allow some of it to escape. Breath left her lungs when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  Stumbling back into the room, Riley slammed the door shut and grabbed a towel to wrap around her body. “Dammit, Kelly. What the hell are you doing in my room?”

  “Sorry, Ingram. I did knock.”

  He didn’t sound the least bit apologetic. In fact, he sounded quite pleased with himself. Ever since her injury last year, she’d been struggling to get back on level ground with him. Things were different between them. While part of her felt a shimmering glow at that difference, another part wanted to squelch the change. Status quo was how she’d existed for so long. Her survival was tied to maintaining distance. If she let her guard down, would chaos erupt?

  “Did the steam coming beneath the door and the sound of running water not give you a clue what was going on in here?”

  The case they’d handled in New York a few months back had cracked open a door neither of them had walked through yet. It was like they both hovered on the doorstep, just waiting. Riley had told herself a million times that she needed to slam that door shut. If she did, she knew Justin would never try to reopen it. And that was something she didn’t know if she could bear.

  But here he was, invading her space, getting in her way, when a few months back he never would have considered such a thing. With one word, one look, she could stop this new familiarity—end it for good.

  Realizing he hadn’t answered her question, she bit her lip, wondering if he had left without saying anything else. “Justin?”

  “Yeah?”

  She jumped several feet back, startled at how very close he sounded. She swallowed her nervousness. For heaven’s sake, this man was her partner. She had worked with him for years. She trusted him on every level. So why was she now so very aware of him in such a different way? Why did his voice cause ripples of delight to shimmy up her spine? How and when had she let her guard down?

  “Why are you here? What do you want?”

  The instant she asked, she regretted the words. They not only sounded unfriendly, but her voice actually quivered.

  “I wanted to check and see how you’re feeling.”

  Vulnerable, scared…needy. With only a towel wrapped around her wet, naked body and the man she dreamed of nightly on the other side of the door, that would be the truthful answer. But one she could absolutely not speak.

  “I’m fine. Just need to get some rest.”

  “You think you damaged your ribs more when you were running? Should we bind them up before we head out tomorrow?”

  “No…I—” She probably should repeat that she was fine and let him return to his room. It was the sensible thing to do. But having a conversation with Justin that didn’t involve the details of a mission almost never happened. Call her weak, but she couldn’t resist the temptation.

  Without giving herself more time to think about it, she said, “Give me a sec. Let me throw some clothes on.”

  She dried off quickly, then wiggled into her underwear. Just as she was about to fasten her bra’s front closure, she jerked to a stop. The stark light of the single bulb in the ceiling was as unforgiving as it was bright. It hid nothing. The scars would never go away. No matter how much time passed, she would always have them. Who did she think she was fooling? Justin Kelly had never seen her like this. He’d probably already figured out she was damaged on the inside. A girl with her kind of closed-off personality and snarky attitude usually had something painful to hide. But he couldn’t know that that was only half her damage. The other half was on her body, the marks left by a fiend…a sadist, a monster. Marks that had scarred her both inside and out. Marked her for life.

  She turned away from the mirror, pulled on a loose shirt and a pair of jeans. Justin would never be interested in someone like her…with so much baggage. She wasn’t normal and never would be. She had stopped living in fantasyland on her eighteenth birthday. She could never return.

  When Riley opened the bathroom door, dressed from head to toe and with that closed-off expression on her face, Justin wanted to curse at the change. When she’d opened the door earlier, he’d been stunned. For once, the expression on her face had been open and vulnerable. There had been a small smile on her mouth, and her eyes had held a dreamy quality.
r />   Unfortunately, giving her time to get dressed had also allowed her the opportunity to put her armor on. LCR Elite operative Riley Ingram now stood before him.

  “We’re still leaving at oh-three-hundred?” she asked in that straightforward, businesslike tone.

  “Yeah.” His eyes raked up and down her body, assessing for himself before he asked, “You’re sure you feel okay? You want me to bandage your ribs tonight?”

  Alarm flared in her eyes, and though she didn’t back away from him, he wouldn’t have been surprised. Her wariness had never been so overt.

  “My ribs are fine. I hadn’t expected to have to run like that. Should’ve done some stretches to prepare. I’ll be ready tomorrow.”

  Suggesting that she sit this op out wasn’t an option. They would need every person on the team to rescue the women. He trusted her to tell him if she wasn’t up to the task.

  An awkward silence filled the room. He should be used to it. This had been their relationship for years. If they didn’t talk LCR business, they didn’t talk. He used to be okay with that. But things were changing between them. He knew it, and she did, too. Their awareness of each other on the job made for a great partnership. This awareness on a personal level was new and evolving. And one he wanted to explore.

  Determined to get beyond the seemingly impenetrable wall she’d erected, Justin settled into the wooden chair beside the small desk. The chair squeaked in protest at his weight. “Where’d you grow up, Ingram?”

  If he’d pulled his gun out and shot her, he didn’t think she could’ve looked more shocked.

  “Wh-what?”

  “You’ve got a slight accent, just can’t place it.”

  Midnight-blue eyes flared with immediate indignation. Justin had the fleeting thought that he was glad she wasn’t wearing her colored contacts. She favored brown lenses, but he liked her real eye color. It reminded him of the night sky. And when she was angry, as she was now, her eyes could sparkle like stars.

  “I do not have an accent,” she snapped.

  Yes, she did, but only when she felt tremendous stress, as she was apparently feeling now. Which made her all the more intriguing. Why did she need to hide an accent? Was that the reason she wore colored contacts so often, too? Why?

  He decided to cut to the chase. “We’ve been working together for over three years now, and we still know almost nothing about each other. Don’t you find that odd?”

  Riley wasn’t a tall woman—about five-four. She stretched every inch of that petite frame now as she went into haughty mode.

  Justin held out his hand. “Before you get into your snooty ‘my personal life is none of your business’ mode, let me tell you a few things.”

  Her glare could’ve melted a glacier, but he continued, “I grew up in Parkersville, Ohio, right outside Cincinnati. My mom and dad still live there. My dad is a pharmacist. My mom is a schoolteacher. I’ve got three younger sisters. I joined the Army when I was nineteen, got tapped for some special assignments. Didn’t make it home very often.

  “A few years back, Lara, my youngest sister, was kidnapped by a gang of human traffickers. LCR rescued her.”

  That was more than he’d told just about anyone about his life. McCall and several LCR operatives knew because they’d been the ones to rescue Lara. His first meeting with Noah McCall and his team had not been a pleasant experience, but he owed them a debt of gratitude for rescuing his little sister. For that, and several other reasons, when he’d left the military, it had been an easy decision to join up with LCR.

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I want to know more about you.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we’re partners.”

  “We’ve worked together just fine without knowing anything about each other. Why do we need to change?”

  She had him there. They did work well together. A few LCR people had joked that they seemed to share the same brain while on an op. It wasn’t that close of a connection, but it was a good one. Did he really want to screw around with that? The answer came back, quick and decisive: Yes, he did. He wanted…needed to know Riley Ingram, the woman. Yes, he was attracted to her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and one of the gutsiest people he’d ever known. So yeah, he wanted to know her, but it wasn’t just that.

  He could lay some line on her about wanting them to work even better together. That wouldn’t be the truth, though, and she would know it. “I want to know you, Riley. Not as a partner, but as a person.”

  Fear flickered in her face, and Justin told himself to drop it. He was about to do just that when she said softly, “I like music.”

  Her voice was soft, a little breathy…nervous. But she’d shared something personal, and he felt as though he’d been given a million bucks.

  “What kind?”

  “Ballads, mostly. The older ones. And the singers, like Lena Horne, Etta James, Billie Holiday, Nina Simone. Their music speaks to me more than any I’ve ever heard.”

  “Do you play an instrument?”

  A small, wistful smile came and went so fast he almost missed it. “Piano. I could lose myself for hours.”

  Riley had opened up myriad avenues Justin wanted to pursue. He couldn’t push her, though. This was the first time she’d offered even the slightest information about her past. If he asked something she didn’t want to answer, he figured she’d shut down completely, and he’d never get her to open up again. This was a good start.

  Deciding the best way to lower her fear was to talk about himself a little more, he said, “My parents love country music. They tried to get my sisters and me to love it, too. It didn’t take.”

  “You don’t like music?”

  “Yeah, I do. Rock. Blues. And—” He could feel a light warmth creep up his face, and the thought of it embarrassed him even more. Hell, when was the last time he’d blushed?

  She tilted her head. “And?”

  He rarely shared this information. Most of the guys he knew would’ve given him hell for it, and even the women he’d dated had seemed to be put off by his preferences. But he wanted to share this information with Riley. “Opera.”

  His confession did something to her. If he’d thought Riley was beautiful before, he quickly amended that to breathtaking. Her face glowed, her eyes sparkled, and the most delighted smile he’d ever seen on her tilted her full lips.

  “Seriously? My parents took me to see Madame Butterfly when I was eight. It was the most wonderful night. My father had season tickets. My favorite is La Bohème, but I loved La Traviata, too.”

  “Do your parents still go?”

  Her expression went blank, and he knew he’d gone too far and asked a question she didn’t want to answer.

  She responded, but her voice was dull, lifeless. “My parents died when I was a teenager.”

  “I’m sorry. I—”

  “It was a long time ago.” Her gaze shifted to the bedside clock. “It’s getting late. I need to get some shut-eye.”

  Though Justin regretted the change in her demeanor, he couldn’t help but be encouraged by what he’d learned. He hadn’t been sure he’d ever get to know anything more about her other than she was intelligent, courageous, and good at her job.

  He stood and headed to the door. Before opening it, he turned back to her and said, “I had another purpose in coming here. To tell you again that you did the right thing today. Fighting back against those thugs was your only choice.”

  She nodded in that solemn manner he was accustomed to seeing. For now, that was okay, but if she thought they would go back to having monosyllabic conversations after this was over, she was wrong. Riley Ingram had opened several windows tonight. Justin intended to make sure they stayed open.

  Chapter Three

  Justin crouched behind a boulder. A few feet away, hidden behind another large rock, was Elite operative Jake Mallory. A dozen yards below them, positioned strategically in the middle of the narrow dirt road, stood a dilapidated
-looking truck. All traffic was blocked. Anyone wanting to get around the truck would have to first find a way to get the vehicle off the road.

  Riley sat in the front seat of the truck. Beside her was Angela Delvecchio, Jake’s partner and wife. As soon as the alert came, the women would emerge from the truck and play their parts. Then the fun would begin.

  The plan was in place. Now all they needed was the target to arrive. Their lookouts, Fox and Thorne, were a few miles back. The instant the truck holding the abducted women was spotted, the two operatives would alert Riley and Angela, then follow at a distance. Even with the roadway blocked, the kidnappers wouldn’t expect trouble until it was too late. Capture the kidnappers and rescue the women. Should be a simple rescue mission.

  Justin had been involved in these ops too often to believe it would be as easy as it sounded. Careful planning could prevent disasters, but no one could predict every scenario.

  Raising his high-powered binoculars, Justin narrowed his eyes in on his partner. Riley looked better today, as if she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. When she’d come out of her room this morning, her expression had been exactly what he had expected. The implacable mask was back in place. He hadn’t expected anything else, but the minute he saw her, he’d wanted to kiss her and see that expression melt into something else.

  Frustrated, Justin shoved his fingers through his hair. Yeah, that would’ve gone over real well.

  Jake Mallory’s gruff voice broke into Justin’s troubled thoughts. “Heard you had a little trouble yesterday.”

  “Got a little hairy. But we got what we needed. Got a couple of extra passengers, too.”

  “Yeah. Thorne told me about them. Good thing McCall’s got the right connections.”

  “He’s working to relocate all the families to a safe place. If there is such a place these days.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Jake jerked his head toward the truck. “Riley’s ribs still bothering her?”