He hurried her across the asphalt to the car left there for them. At least his people hadn’t left him with some wimpy-ass car. The Eclipse Spyder sported enough muscle to make a clean getaway if necessary.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got this car at your disposal,” Rose said.
He cut a grin at her. “I can get anything I need.”
“I’m guessing you don’t use a rental service.”
He chuckled and passed his hand over the lock. The computer system responded to his microchip, and the tumblers clicked. He reached for the door handle and waved her toward the passenger seat.
Rose didn’t whine or whimper like some women who’d been his wards. He couldn’t ask for a tougher broad to guard. But he would expect nothing less from a woman raised by General Kilbourn. And she dealt with hard-ass, tough-nosed and probably misogynistic Naval officers when defending them in court. Thus far, he was damn impressed with Rose’s cool response to all they’d faced. Though he knew she burned to fire questions at him, she seemed to accept the little he’d conveyed to her and let it rest, at least for now.
However, one look into her intelligent eyes and he knew she wouldn’t accept breadcrumbs for long. Soon she’d demand the whole crusty truth.
After this pickup, he’d find a spot to hide her while he hunted these motherfuckers who were after her. Who to leave her with, though? It didn’t take him long to realize he didn’t trust anybody else to protect her.
He climbed behind the wheel of the Spyder and ran his hands over the warm leather. “Yesss, come to Daddy.”
He revved the engine, and Rose shot him a look.
“One of the perks of my job.”
“Who exactly do you work for again?” She cocked a blonde brow at him.
He chuckled. “We all have our secrets.”
A dark cloud passed over her face, and she turned her focus to the road as he rolled out of the parking lot. He kept his guard up while trying to keep his attention off Rose’s legs in that blue flowy dress.
Rose grew quiet as miles passed. Was it stupid of him to wish he could draw her out and hear all about her life? He had little right to poke into her personal life, but if he knew one thing about her, he needed more. Back in the day, he’d forced himself to slam that door and never reopen it.
She sat with her arms folded and her head turned to the side window, watching the asphalt speed by. Because his training extended beyond fighting and protection, he recognized worry in the crease of her brow and in her pose. She’d endured unspeakable things and suffered in silence.
“You can talk to me, you know,” he said quietly.
She snapped her head around to pierce him in her gaze. “What would you like to talk about?”
“I mean…you were hurt and frightened. I’m trained to listen and help you work through some of it until we can get you to a safe place.”
“You’re a therapist now? And who is this we getting me to a safe place?”
He sighed. “I might have guessed you’d cross-interrogate me.”
“Damn right I will. If you ask a question, I’ll have one for you too, Oz.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t be aroused by the soft lilt of her voice when she said his name.
“Fair enough.” He cast around for some topic that wouldn’t inflame her or probe too close to his own truths.
Their night in the garden…off limits. Careers—nope.
He glanced in the rearview and caught sight of the black vehicle. Immediately, he went into full alert mode. The small hairs on the back of his neck had always been his personal siren that something was off. Damn, did it have to be now?
Cutting a hard right, he turned a corner and shot off toward the next block. Sure enough, the black car followed.
Goddammit.
His skills clicked into place, shooting out all scenarios at him.
He whipped to the left.
Rose gripped the armrest. “What’s going on?” Her voice pitched higher.
Could she run in that dress and those shoes she’d selected? Why the hell had he let his people talk him into taking her along with him? No time to second-guess his choices now—he had to get them out of this.
As he hit a straight stretch, he jumped on the gas. That tingle of adrenaline lived at the base of his spine, but a sickening fear hit the pit of his stomach. The two sensations warred. He locked his jaw and made an erratic turn, whipping the car out on a road that, by his guess, would lead directly back to the coast.
“What’s going on, Oz? You tell me right now! Why are you driving like this?” She twisted to look back.
“Don’t turn around. I don’t think they can see your face, but I don’t want to take chances.”
“Oh my God!”
Oh shit. He was wrong—this didn’t lead to the coast. It led off a ravine straight into the water. Technically the coastal land didn’t exist.
He saw the black car bearing down on them.
One choice remained.
He gripped the wheel. “Do you trust me?”
“What?” Terror burned in her tone.
“Just answer me,” he commanded.
The bullet exploded the back window, and he grabbed Rose’s head and shoved it down between her knees. “You trust me now. Okay, on three, I’m going to brake hard and you’re going to jump out. See that rock over there?”
“My head’s between my legs! I can’t see anything.”
“Fifty yards to your right. Get to those rocks and make yourself small. One, two, three.”
He slammed his foot to the floor. The car slid sideways to the right, coming close enough to the rock for Rose to roll out. With luck, the men chasing them would believe Oz just cut the Spyder back around. But they wouldn’t think at all after he rammed their fucking car and sent it careening off the ravine.
Rose threw open the door and rolled. He saw her somersault but didn’t wait to gun the gas again. The collision threw him back in his seat. Tires screeched.
A passenger jumped from the other car, and Oz slammed his own to a stop. Oz leaped out with weapon firing. A bullet blew past his ear, nearly shaving off his lobe. An inch difference and they would have gotten him in the jugular.
He pulled the trigger again and the satisfying thwack of steel finding flesh met his ears. The second man didn’t even make it out of the car before Oz shot him between the eyes. He slumped against the dash.
Oz centered on the man trying to scrabble off the ground. Hell, his bullet hadn’t killed him instantly, and now the bastard was trying to speak.
“You son of a b—”
Oz squeezed off a final shot.
Another glance at the men satisfied him. He’d done the job right.
Rose.
He whirled for her. His boots grated on the asphalt. He couldn’t reach the tall rocks fast enough. Not a scrap of Rose’s dress or lock of blonde hair could be seen—she’d hidden herself well.
“Rose!” he called out.
She slipped a hand out from between two big rocks she’d squeezed between, and he latched on to it. Her fingers trembled as he tugged her free and into his arms. Her legs went out from under her, and he caught her.
“Jesus Christ, honey,” he whispered as he stumbled away from the edge again. “Close your eyes. Don’t look.”
He didn’t want the view of the dead men to haunt her. As he pressed her down into the passenger’s seat again, she gripped at his shirt. He lowered his lips to her forehead and held her for a long minute, just breathing her in and trying to make his fucking heart realize she remained safe.