Beyond His Control. Stephanie Tyler
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two low sheds and cut the lights and the engine. He prayed, but held his weapon at the ready at the same time because he always found the combination of the two to be the most effective.
Ava, it appeared, was holding her breath. And looking slightly blue. Not really a great color on her.
She was staring at him and he realized that he was motioning for her to breathe in SEAL speak, not Avaspeak. She was looking at him as if he was crazy.
He pulled her close, whispered against her ear, breathe, and felt her inhale a huge gulp of air. And then another, in a slightly hitched manner.
She stopped when the sound of another car rounded the corner, headlights momentarily throwing light on their car and hopefully, it was mingling in with the shadows. Ava had moved closer to him unconsciously, and any other time he would’ve been thrilled with that contact. As it was, she was burrowing against the arm that held the gun, making it impossible to move without flinging her unceremoniously to the floor. Which he’d do if he had to, but she’d definitely be unhappy with him.
She also had a lot more explaining to do than just, this all has to do with my current case. But he was skilled enough in interrogation to know that she’d tell him everything he needed to know one way or another. Having a history with her helped in that regard.
Of course, she also knew him well, too.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, the car pulled away.
She looked slightly shaken, but she was breathing and there was no blood. And she wasn’t staring up at him with that goddamned “you’re my hero” look he was pretty familiar with after he rescued someone on the job, which was good. He didn’t want hero worship from her.
What do you want from her?
The truth, he told himself firmly. And for a minute, he almost believed it.
AVA CLUTCHED Justin’s arm as she strained to listen for any signs of the other car’s return.
Her palm ached from where she’d held the gun so tightly, her heart beat faster as the earlier scene began to replay itself in her head. She couldn’t get past the sound of shots being fired, wouldn’t make the mistake of staring out the rear window that had been struck by a pair of bullets. It was one thing to practice shooting at a range and entirely another to be in the line of fire.
She much preferred the former and realized that the breathing thing was getting harder.
“Put your head between your legs and try to take deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” Justin was explaining, but his voice sounded far away, his drawl more pronounced…his large palm against her cheek.
What seemed like seconds later, mainly because that palm was less than gently slapping her cheek, she opened her eyes with a start. Her seat had been pushed all the way back and her gun was gone.
His hand shifted from her cheek to her neck, then reached down for her hand. For a second, she thought he was going to hold it.
“Your pulse is still racing,” he said, finger firmly on the point at her wrist. “You should stay down for a while.”
And then, for just a second, he did put his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze. His hand was big, reassuring, and if she pretended hard enough she could actually believe that there was something more in his touch than mere comfort.
When he took his hand away, she shifted to face him. “Did we lose them?” she asked, her voice hoarse as if she’d been screaming out loud for hours. In reality, she hadn’t, but inside her head she was still yelling.
“For now.” His voice was intense, his drawl nearly nonexistent.
“So why aren’t we moving?”
“We’ll have to sit for a while. They’ll circle around until they’re sure we’ve disappeared.” He glanced at the empty neighborhood. “I’ve also got to lose this car and these plates.”
“Around here? You’re going to steal a car?”
“I prefer to think of it as borrowing,” he said. “And no, not here, we’ll have to make do with this one for a while longer. At least until we get out of state.”
“Where are we going?”
“I was going to take you down to my place, in Norfolk, but I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” His hand, which had been playing along the steering wheel gripped it tighter, the muscle in his forearm flexed and she noted again how much bigger he’d gotten. All filled out—no more signs of the young man she’d known in high school. His hair was shorter now, but still as blond and he was still tanned, too.
He took a deep breath, as if he’d made a decision. “We’ll drive for a few hours, then stop before dawn. Rest, regroup. Decide what our next move should be. Until we know more about who’s threatening you, I don’t want you to have any contact with your office.”
“No one in the D.A.’s office has anything to do with this,” she insisted, but her voice sounded worried, even to her own ears.
“Unless you’re one hundred percent sure, I’m not taking any chances. Not when I promised your brother I’d take care of you until he could.” He paused. “What’s this new case all about?”
“It’s a domestic abuse case. I’ve prosecuted cases like this before and yes, I’ve been threatened before.” She gave him the pat answer, the easy answer.
“Like this?”
She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Abusive husbands often try to control me the way they control their wives. I can’t let them win. I made a commitment to these women, to help them. Do you know how long it’s taken some of them to come forward, to finally trust someone?”
“I can only imagine.” His voice was tight again, and maybe, just maybe, he’d understand. At least she thought so until he spoke. “But you can’t put your life on the line for every case.”
“Does your SEAL team have that same motto?” she asked, and his lips pressed together in a grim line. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Justin.”
“In this case, I do. You’re going to need to listen to me, Ava.” And with that he straightened up and turned the key in the ignition.
She guessed his internal timeframe had told him it was safe to leave. Still, she noted that he didn’t switch on the car’s headlights until they were on the highway, headed southbound. “I’m doing all this for your own good.”
How many times had she heard that in her lifetime, from Justin, Leo, her father…even her mother?
She’d had no idea an hour ago that when she opened her door she’d be opening up the door to her past.
AVA HAD HER CELL PHONE out and she was dialing. And ignoring him and his advice. Just like old times. Which, in a way, was good. It meant she was bucking up under the pressure, that she wouldn’t completely fall apart. Yet.
He grabbed the phone from her. “What are you doing? You just agreed we weren’t going to tell anyone anything,” he said.
“I want to talk to Leo,” she said. “I want to talk with someone in the DEA office. If they know anything—anything at all that’s related to why my life’s at risk—I deserve to know.” She kicked the dashboard in frustration. Twice. Which made the front end of the POS rental car rattle.
“I know you do,” he said, trying to talk her down from the emotional ledge she’d worked herself onto.
“Maybe in your world having men shoot at you isn’t a big deal—”
“It’s always a big deal,” he said through gritted teeth. He shifted his hands on the steering wheel and then took a breath. She was shaken, badly, and when Ava was thrown off her game she reacted by lashing out at the nearest available person. Which, in