Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes #1)(54)

“Rand…please. Don’t,” Sarah whispered, as if she could hear his internal battle.

“You walk to the lobby. You tell your boss not to follow us. I see any of your friends, I’ll find your family. I won’t go after you. I’ll go after your mother. Your father. Your wife. Understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Now walk.”

The man practically bolted from Rand, never once glancing over his shoulder. He didn’t need to. He knew who he and Sarah were on sight. And he was likely their death sentence—if they stuck around.

“Go. Now. Go. Run.”

Rand planted his hand on Sarah’s back and propelled her across the street. Yes, she was tired, they were on empty, but their lives once more depended on this.

“Taxi!” Sarah waved her hand.

A yellow cab going the other direction eased across the street and up to the curb.

Thank God for small miracles.

Rand tossed the bag in and glanced over his shoulder. A few figures in dark clothes down the block were headed their way, but they were too far away.

This time, this one time, they were getting out okay.

Next time, they might not be so lucky.

…

Sarah wanted to collapse and cry, but they still needed a destination.

This she could help with. Finally, something she could do. She leaned forward, spouting off an address she knew well.

“Where are we going?” Rand muttered.

“I need your phone.” She practically pick-pocketed him digging it out. “Come on. Come on.”

She brought up a popular rental sight, one that allowed people to list their apartments, homes, or other properties as temporary rentals.

There.

She clicked the button and again, she could have wept with relief.

Hallelujah, it’s vacant.

“One of the Wishing Well executives, she inherited her grandmother’s place here in D.C. She has a carriage house that she rents out when she’s not letting us stay there.”

“That’s not safe, Sarah. They know you work for Wishing Well.”

“Do you have a better plan?” She thrust the phone back at him.

His grimace said no.

“We have a destination. Somewhere to go. We can figure things out when we get there.” She thrust the phone back at him. So much for contributing to the cause.

“Look, it’s not a terrible idea, but we can’t stay there. Let’s assume they made you. They know you work for Wishing Well and by now, they’re focusing on finding you. You’re the face they know, even if they don’t know why you’re involved.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out of the window. The familiar surroundings only contributed to the surreal experience. The gun at her hip was a stark reminder of that.

This was her home, at least part of the time. It seemed wrong that all of this was happening here. Her family was an hour away, not nearly as removed from the nightmare as she’d want them. Heck, Matt and Emily were probably barely a half hour’s drive from the rental.

Rand was right. Going to her coworker’s place meant putting them all in danger.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me. Please?” He tugged on her hand.

She turned her head, meeting his gaze.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said.

What about the dead man in the closet? Why had that happened? What purpose did it serve?

“We need some sleep. We’ll think better after a little rest.” He pulled her close to his side.

Screw it.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist. Everything was so screwed up. Because of her. She hadn’t done her job right. And this was what happened.

They rode the rest of the drive in relative silence. Their driver seemed to pick up on the somber mood and didn’t speak. The nighttime traffic wasn’t bad, so they made the trip fairly fast.

It was creeping into the early morning hours before they finally stopped at the curb of an old, whitewashed house. The shutters had been freshly painted since Sarah’s last visit, and the remodeling of the flower beds seemed to be going well.

She trudged down the driveway and keyed in the code that let them past the fence.

By the time the side gate swung open, Rand was by her side again. She led them by memory through the backyard to the carriage house out back. The key was still stashed where she remembered. Essentially, nothing had changed except the welcome mat and a couple more prints hanging on the walls.

“I’m going to check the perimeter. You good in here?” Rand checked the chamber of his weapon.

“Rand, everything’s fine. No one could know we’re here already.”

“Exactly why I want to familiarize myself with the perimeter now.”

She sighed and trudged back through the house, doing a walkthrough of the first then the second floor. The master bedroom was upstairs, but her gut said to stay on the main floor, where they’d have a quick escape out the window if it came to that.

While Rand traipsed around in the darkness, she hauled their bag into the bedroom.

A man had died tonight. Because of her. That was two souls on her conscience now.

They had to get the briefcase back. There was no question in her mind that it was a priority. She couldn’t have any more blood on her hands.