Page 50 of The Vigilante's Lover

Mia looks exhausted as we drive toward Nashville. She called her neighbor, who tried to insist Mia come over and stay with her. Mia managed to convince her she was already gone but would come back someday.

She’s mine now. I feel responsible for what happened. I wrote the letters to the safe house and didn’t recognize what was really going on with the garbled replies.

I came, and I brought the danger to her.

Twice the Vigilantes have almost killed her.

I can’t let that happen.

She watches the trees pass by outside the window, lost in thought. I wonder what is going on inside her head. Regrets over what she’s been through since she met me?

Her chin is high, strong even with all this terror. Something in my chest turns a little. She’s brave. Tougher than I gave her credit for that first night.

I’m disgusted by my own network. I don’t know what is going on for them to decide to destroy her house. Vigilantes are not heroes by any means, but we are law enforcers in our own right. We just no longer trust the civilian system of police, judges, and justice that goes to the highest bidder.

We use vastly advanced technology and financial resources to find the truth in ways that aren’t practical or legal. And our retribution is swift and final.

But Mia is an innocent woman. And they are allowing her to get caught in the crossfire. My crossfire.

I send an encrypted message to Sam about the whereabouts of the Vigilante car I stole from the idiot who tried to take me down in Albuquerque. Having a vehicle like that will be a bonus for Sam to play with. He can break it down and build it back up into an amazing machine.

I feel confident in my own Aston Martin. This car is completely off grid and always has been, one of the perks of being a director of a silo, like I once was.

Before I killed a Vigilante.

Before I believed that damn woman.

Jovana’s going to have the surprise of her life when she sees me at her brother’s fight in Nashville. Klaus too.

They aren’t going to know what hit them.

But first, we have to get clothes, food, rest. We have two days to kill until then. We’ve been way beyond the basics for days, and Mia isn’t used to this lifestyle. I kept her up half the night.

I glance at her again as I think about the motel. She has hay stuck to her pajamas from the explosions. I’ve put her through the wringer, that’s for certain.

I don’t know what she’s feeling about what happened. She’s bound to be sore in places she didn’t know existed. Probably I should have stayed away from her.

But some things you just can’t help.

She’s barely keeping her eyes open as we glide along the highway.

Once we get to Nashville, I’ll bring this down a notch, give us some quiet time.

Maybe I can learn more about her, figure out what in her history would bring out these opposites in the Vigilantes, both naming her a special and allowing Jovana to destroy her home.

We’ll be flying blind. I have to stay off grid. And I can’t check into any of my usual places due to the kill order. But there are plenty of fine hotels in Nashville. My funds are well hidden. The Vigilantes can only seize what they know about. We’re expected to funnel money all over the world.

I punch the search function on the dash. I admire for a moment the elegant controls in polished steel with inlaid teak. My car. I can’t believe I have it back.

“Five-star hotel in Nashville,” I tell it.

A list pops up and I choose one I’ve never been to before. There won’t be a back entrance or my usual amenities. But it’s a definite improvement over a barn and a seedy motel.

I think of the leisurely evening I can spend with Mia and my groin tightens. I book a room and tap in a request for top floor only. I select every VIP option that exists and a time of arrival. To keep them guessing, I list an assumed name with the word Viscount in front.

Even though it is midafternoon, Mia falls asleep, her arms and head draped over the center console. Her golden brown hair falls across her face. I catch myself about to move it, and pull back. It’s one thing to keep her now, but I’m not going to be so foolish as to get emotional about it.

Emotion is what got me here.

Besides, eventually I will have to turn her over to the Vigilantes, so they will stop putting her in danger trying to get to me. I’ll tell them I kidnapped her again. Whatever I have to say.

Maybe if I can clear my name, get to the endgame of whatever plot is unfolding, I can find my way back to her. But once I get to Jovana and Klaus again, I have to let her go. Get her out of harm’s way.

But not tonight.

Screw it. I finger the loose bit of hair and slip it behind her ear. Her cheek is soft, her expression relaxed. I’ll set up some spa treatment for her to get past the shock of these days. I’ll watch each delicious moment as she gets a full body massage.

I tap the dash screen again and bring up Armond. It takes a few moments for the circuitous encryption to make its way to him. His bald head and bushy brows are a welcoming sight.

“You’re still with us,” he says. “I hear there’s trouble afoot. Did you find your lady?”

I lay a hand on Mia’s head. He looks down and sees her.

“Wearing them out as usual,” he says, then nods knowingly when I glare at him. “Ah, you care what this little dove thinks of you.”

“They blew up her house. She’s got nothing to wear. Not even a hairbrush. What can you do for her?”

Armond’s hands come up, his fingertips to his chin. “Now that is a tragedy. But we shall rebuild her from scratch. How much time?”

“We can rendezvous somewhere mid-Tennessee.”

“There’s a small college in Jackson,” Armond says. “My very own nephew attends. There is a coffee shop in town with a name that will make your blood boil. Very defendable. When?”

I glance at the map. “Two hours normal speed. Trying to stay under the radar.”

“Plenty of time,” he says. “Take care, my friend.”

Mia pops her head up. She was listening. I figured as much.

“No stilettos!” she says.

Armond laughs. “No movie heroine here, I see, all high heels and dramatic hair amid the gunfire.”

“I’ll be the practical kind,” Mia says. Her affection for Armond is obvious in her pleased expression. “Hair back. Body armor. And sensible shoes.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But perhaps one small addition, for the bedroom?”

Mia’s face turns crimson.

“Ah, sorry, I should not be so coarse,” he says. “My apologies.”

“Good-bye, Armond,” I say. “And thank you.” I switch off the screen.

Mia sighs. “Do you sleep with EVERY woman you encounter?”

I exit the highway to take the back roads to Jackson. “I missed out on this eighty-year-old woman in Romania —”

“Jax! Don’t be mean!”

I can barely contain my laugh. “I tried! She said I needed more potatoes first.”

She punches my arm, and I trap her hand inside the crook of my elbow. I set the car to auto-navigate the narrow two-lane road and hold her fingers with mine.

Her eyes glow a little when I touch her. Just the way I like it. I wonder when I will move us to the next level, beyond the simple bedroom activities and on to those with a little more kick. Something tells me Mia is going to be very receptive.

Maybe tonight.

She drops her head back to the console, letting me stroke her fingers. I look forward to this night together, pushing her, seeing how far she bends.

Nothing’s broken her so far.