The Protected

“Two questions . . . is this tied into what we were doing with Dru and Crawford? Because if it is, she could still be in trouble.”

“No.” Nalini paused for a moment and then added, “At least, I don’t think it’s tied in. I’ve been watching these people a very long time and I don’t believe there’s a connection at all. If there is, it’s peripheral.”

He grunted and read the message again. “Okay. And what’s this ‘item’?”

“Well . . .” She laughed a little. “If you promise not to get frustrated, I’ll be honest with you. I’m not entirely certain, but I think it might be a child.”

* * *

ROCKING back on the hind legs of her chair, Vaughnne stared at the back door.

She’d magnified the screen and gone as close on it as she could.

And the tape was clearly visible.

It was only barely clinging to the doorjamb. It was touching, but it wasn’t a smooth fit at all.

If she’d had any time, she would have tried to figure out a better plan, but she’d checked the tracker app and Gus had been on his way back. This was the best she could do. The trained FBI agent. Outwitted by a piece of scotch tape.

When the truck appeared in the driveway, she almost groaned. She covered eyes. “Let this work.”

From where she’d positioned herself, she could see the truck. And she watched as Gus went through his normal routine. Backpack, check, jacket, check. Gun, check. Kid, check.

Study the yard under the pretense of stretching that long lean body . . . check.

Her belly did a mad little flutter and she tried to ignore it. A bag from a local hardware store came out after all that was said and done, and Alex leaned backed against the truck, nose all but buried in a book.

As Gus reached up to shove his ball cap back, she slid her gaze to the boy. He had his head bent and was caught up in the book he was reading. Even after Gus said his name—at least that’s what Vaughnne assumed he was doing, the boy just continued to focus on the book.

For a minute, Gus just stood there, staring at the kid’s bent head, and something about his posture, the way his shoulders went tense, the way he tipped his head back . . . all of it, every last movement he made, and every one he didn’t make, made her realize something.

The man was tired.

She didn’t know what was going on, didn’t know what he was running from. But whatever it was, it had him so worn out, and so tired.

Then, even as her heart ached a little for him, he shook his head, like he was just shaking it off. Then he said something. Judging by the way Alex reacted, the boy heard him and lifted his head, his mouth moving as he responded. Something angry and defiant danced across his features, but Vaughnne had no idea what was being said. She could have adjusted the volume and found out, but she wasn’t doing this to invade their privacy. She just wanted to make sure they stayed safe.

Gus reached up and hooked a hand over the boy’s neck, hauled him close. The boy went and they stood there like that a moment, the kid’s face pressed against Gus’s chest while the man looked around, as though he was seeing monsters in every corner, behind every tree.

Then, finally, they broke apart and headed across the street to Mrs. Werner’s.

* * *

THEY’D finished the damn plumbing thing over at the old lady’s house. Alex sometimes got tired of going over there, but anything was better than being stuck in this little house with just him and Gus. Even if the old lady did sit there and think about how much she wished she were thirty years younger. Sometimes, he had to hide his face because of her thoughts, too. She wasn’t quiet with them at all, and those were the sort of thoughts that were hard to block out. Like ignoring the music from a radio blasting at full volume in the middle of the night.

Still, she was nice to both of them, and when Gus was done, she always made them dinner, and then she’d pay Gus. Gus didn’t like to take the money, but he did it anyway, because the more money they had for when they had to run again, the better.

Everything was for when they had to run again and Alex hated it.

Just like he hated what he had to do when they went home. Each and every time.

While Gus checked every stupid thing in the main part of the house, it was Alex’s job to check the windows and doors, make sure nobody had come in while they weren’t there. Alex did it because while Gus could handle anybody that was actually in the house, Alex would be able to sense if anybody had been in.

It had happened before, back when they were in Oklahoma. Alex didn’t like to think of that day. The man who had broken in hadn’t been trying to hurt them—he’d been looking for cash and drugs, but he’d hit the wrong house.

No, Alex didn’t like to think about that. Instead, he focused on what he had to do here. Check the stupid windows, make sure nothing felt off. That wasn’t hard.

Everything felt fine. Tape there. Tape here. Tape everywhere. Coins where they needed to be.

His heart jumped into his chest, though, as he found the tape in the kitchen. That piece by the door. It wasn’t sealed . . . well. It was. But it wasn’t pressed down tight the way it usually was.

Swallowing, he glanced around.

Everything looked fine. He dropped the mental wall he kept around his mind and looked . . . harder. It wasn’t easy to explain the difference, but he felt the difference. His heart was racing by the time he finished, but everything felt fine.

It was all fine, damn it. He didn’t want to run again, didn’t want to leave again. He was so tired of having to run . . .

Hands sweating, he reached out and smoothed his finger down the strip of tape, flattening it into place as he heard the solid, sturdy sound of Gus’s boots.

“Everything clear in here?” he asked from the doorway.

Alex turned around and stared at him. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

And his stomach twisted inside, guilt rising and making him feel more than a little sick. But nobody had been in there. If they had, he’d know, right? He’d feel it. He was so tired of running. He probably hadn’t smoothed the tape down when he put it on last night right before bed. That was all.

No big deal.

Feeling Gus’s eyes on him, he looked up.

The man was watching him solemnly, quietly.

And the guilt just got worse.

A big hand came out and hooked him over the back of the neck, tugged him close. As Gus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, Alex sniffled and blinked back the tears that suddenly decided to choke him. “I know this is not easy,” Gus said quietly. “I know this is not what your mother had planned for you. It is not the life I would have wanted for you, either. It’s not the life I want for you. But you’re alive . . . and you’re safe.”

Alex pulled away and stormed over to the fridge. “I’ve heard this before. It’s not what we planned. But it’s a life. Right?” He pulled out the pitcher of water and poured himself a glass. “Yeah. It’s a life. A shitty one.”

“Watch how you speak,” Gus warned him.

Jerking his chin up, Alex said, “Or what? You going to spank me?”

Gus stroked his chin, studying him. “I think you can go to your room now. You want to act like a petulant child, then do it elsewhere.”

* * *

AS Alex disappeared down the hall, Gus dumped the bag on the table and dropped down into the chair. With a sigh, he covered his face with his hands.

There were days when he swore that this was some hell that had been dropped on him because of the life he’d led. The lives he’d taken, the lies he’d told. He hadn’t intended to go down that road, but it had just . . . fit. And some roads, once you started that walk, you couldn’t turn back.

Too bad Gus hadn’t realized it until it was too late. By the time he had, his hands were bloody, his soul was