Chapter Twenty-Nine. What? Jake gasped

"What?" Jake gasped. This had to be a very bad joke or some terrible mistake. But Kat was obviously deadly serious. "Kat," she begged, a rush of panic threatening to overwhelm her, "please look at me."

Kat did. But her expression was cold, unreadable.

"You can’t believe that!" Jake pleaded, her eyes welling with tears. She found it impossible to accept that she was a bounty hunter--let alone even consider the possibility that she might have ever intended to do Kat harm. She shook her head back and forth, back and forth. "You can’t be serious!" Her voice had a tremor in it. "I could never hurt you, surely you know that."

Kat’s expression softened, and she nodded. "You proved that when you came out in the snow trying to help me." She looked away for a moment as if lost in thought. "That was a brave and selfless act, Jake." A hint of a smile appeared at the edge of her lips. "Even if it was also an incredibly stupid thing to do." The warmth returned to her eyes.

"But I believed in my heart even before that, Jake," Kat volunteered. "I knew that something extraordinary was happening between us. Something rare and very precious. And something more powerful than anything in our pasts." She looked into Jake’s eyes for confirmation as she said this.

Jake nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I’m sorry I’ve kept things from you," Kat said, taking Jake’s hand. "I don’t know who you are--your real identity, I mean. But I got a heads-up about a woman bounty hunter who was coming after me. Her name was Scout. Does that ring a bell?"

"Scout? No." Jake shrugged.

"Well, you fit the description and you showed up out here about the time I got the warning." Kat leaned toward Jake. "The car you were driving was stolen, and there was no ID on you or in the car. Both are pretty typical of people in our line of work. But what really convinced me was what I found in your trunk. A photo of me and a high-powered takedown sniper rifle, just like one I have."

Jake shook her head. An inner voice denied she was capable of any of this. She envisioned herself as a musician or artist. Something creative. She wasn’t--couldn’t be--a mercenary. A killer for hire. But then she still couldn’t believe it of Kat either, despite what she had witnessed tonight.

A new thought occurred to her. "When did you find all this out?" she asked Kat.

Kat tried to think back. "Well, I suspected from about the first day," she said. "I knew the car was stolen almost immediately, and I found the photo and rifle when I went back to it the second or third day, whenever it was." Time had all jumbled together for her since the accident. The long periods without sleep and the lack of natural sunlight in the bunker made it difficult to tell how much time had elapsed between events. She rarely glanced at her watch.

"Then why did you save me?" Jake pressed. "Why go through everything you did if you thought I was here to kill you? I don’t understand that at all."

"I don’t think I had much choice," Kat replied. "That’s the easiest way to explain, I guess. It wasn’t something I normally would have done," she admitted. "But I felt compelled to get involved when I saw your car go off the road and flip over. Something just pushed me forward to help. And when I saw you...well, you were hurt, and vulnerable, and I just kind of felt protective toward you." She grew silent for a moment or two, fighting the hint of a blush that threatened to blossom on her cheeks. "After we...kissed..." she continued, looking down at their joined hands, "Well, that kind of sealed it for me."

Saying such things was incredibly difficult for Kat, who had never had an intimate relationship. For the first time in her life, she was fighting shyness, feeling incredibly inexperienced and naive about how to go about getting close to the woman who had so captivated her. These feelings were extremely unsettling to Kat, even as they were exciting. She was used to being alone, being in control, using cold reasoning alone to make all her important decisions. She felt unprepared for this. But her logical mind had long ago given way to what her instincts and her heart were telling her to do.

"Jake," Kat said, determined to finish what she needed to say, "I’ve never really been close to anyone. Not really. I never thought I could be, doing what I do." Her hand began to caress Jake’s as she spoke, and Jake responded in kind. "But I very much want to be close to you."

"I want that too. Very much," Jake said, her voice breaking on the last two words. Her hand gripped Kat’s tightly for a moment for emphasis. "All of this is...difficult for me to believe, to say the least. I admit I’m kind of having a hard time with a lot of what you’ve told me. Particularly about my past. But I do know, I do very much believe, that we are supposed to be together."

Kat looked into Jake’s eyes and let out a long breath. The creases in her forehead and around her eyes relaxed. The edges of her mouth curved upward into a hint of a smile. She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and Jake’s heart skipped a beat.

"Kat," Jake whispered. "Do you know anything more about my wedding ring?"

"No," Kat said. "I can tell you that bounty hunters often adopt other identities when they’re pursuing someone. Well, some do, anyway. I’ve used a wedding ring on a few occasions myself. But I don’t know whether yours is real or not."

"Well, I have to admit I hope it’s a fake," Jake said. "I hope there is no one waiting somewhere for me."

Kat nodded in agreement. While they talked, both women continued the soft caresses of their joined hands.

"What are you going to do about those two men?" Jake asked. "And how did they find you?"

Kat’s fingertips paused in their soft tracing of Jake’s inner wrist and palm, a sensation that both women found eminently pleasing and increasingly distracting. "They followed the track I made getting you here from where the car crashed. But it’s snowed a lot since then, so I don’t think we have to worry about anyone else showing up." Her touch resumed its gentle path along Jake’s smaller hands. Such delicate hands.

"As to what I’m going to do with them...Well, I’m going to keep them confined until you’re well enough to leave. I’ll have to give up this place anyway, now that it’s been found."

She said this matter-of-factly, but Jake could tell from her wistful expression that Kat would really miss the bunker. She would too, she realized. She felt safe here, despite the last few hours.

"Speaking of getting you out of here," Kat said, nodding toward the forgotten food on the tray, "you have to get your strength back, and you need to eat to do that. So I’m going to go warm this up, and while you finish it, I’ll work on your wrist and knee. Okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jake agreed. Her stomach was beginning to reassert itself at the mention of the food.

Kat rose and picked up the tray. "I’ll have to go into town. We don’t have enough food for four people for very long, and there are a few other things I’d like to pick up. Some antibiotics for your knee and some plaster so I can do a better cast for your wrist."

"When will you leave?" Jake asked.

"Soon. It’s snowing now and will be for a while, so it will cover my tracks there and back. If I leave in a couple of hours, I’ll get to town just as everything is opening up--when there are few people about." She smiled. "I’ll be very quick. I bet you sleep through the whole thing."

I doubt that, Jake thought but didn’t say. When I’m not worrying about you, I’ll be trying to picture myself as an assassin. Not the kind of thing likely to induce nice dreams. "I’ll try," she managed. "If you promise to be careful."

"Always," Kat confirmed, giving Jake a wink as she picked up the tray and headed for the door. She liked having someone concerned about her welfare.

So damn cute, Jake thought, watching her leave. Then she thought again about Kat’s assertion that she had been headed here to kill her, and her stomach sank. I hope I never remember.

Otter had a hell of a headache. That was the first thing that penetrated his consciousness. The second was the awareness that he couldn’t move much. The third was the nauseating stench of dead fish that permeated his nostrils. His stomach lurched as he blinked his eyes, trying to remember what had happened.

He was lying on his side, his hands bound behind him, on a cold concrete floor. He could see a couple of snowmobiles, and if he craned his head, he could see what looked like a generator. As his mind hit upon what had happened to him he heard a cough from behind. He struggled to roll over, expecting to find Hunter gloating over him.

He had trouble adjusting his position. He had to scoot backward a couple of feet before there was enough slack in the chain for him to crane his neck around to see a big bear of a man studying him with a curious expression. The man was propped up, sitting with his back against the corner. Otter could see that they were both prisoners, bound together by a short chain, which was padlocked to a larger chain that was attached to the wall. He also noticed that the other man was somewhat more comfortably settled than he was, sitting on a down sleeping bag with a small heater nearby blasting what little warm air there was directly at him. "Frank, I presume?" Otter said.

"Yeah. You’re Otter, right?" Frank asked.

Otter grunted in affirmation, trying to turn all the way over to better communicate with Frank. Because of the short length of chain connecting them, he had to back up until he was nearly in Frank’s lap to accomplish this.

"Hey, man, don’t get so close," Frank admonished as Otter awkwardly rolled to face him. The big man was trying to lean away from him. "You reek. I mean you stink really, really bad."

Otter didn’t need the reminder. He felt just inches away from puking. He could tolerate most smells. He’d even hidden in a garbage Dumpster once. But he couldn’t abide the smell of fish. Dead or alive. Raw or cooked. It had always made him profoundly nauseous.

Otter remembered that Hunter had taunted him about it rather maliciously the day they met, when he griped about her ordering salmon from room service. He wondered briefly whether she’d deliberately poured something on him or if he’d acquired this ungodly stench during the fight in the pantry. Didn’t matter. Pissed him off anyway. Bitch, he seethed.

But Otter was amazed Hunter hadn’t killed him. She’ll regret that. He studied Frank, who was wrinkling his nose in distaste at Otter’s close proximity. Well, at least I have an ally. An impressively big ally, at that. It would do well to be nice.

"Sorry," Otter said, trying to inch away as much as possible while still keeping an eye on Frank. "How long have you been here?" he asked, studying the room again but seeing no way to escape.

"Don’t know. Hard to tell," Frank replied. "Several hours, anyway. You deal with her before?"

Otter’s mind flashed back to their job together. Hunter abandoning him. Leaving him to prison or death. "Yeah. I have a score to settle with Hunter."

"Thought so. She said you wouldn’t be too cooperative."

Otter snorted. "Cooperative? That’s funny," he sneered. He couldn’t figure out why she was keeping them both alive. He didn’t really like thinking about what she might be planning to do to them before she killed them. He was certain they would die.

"She says if I cooperate, she’ll give me some money and let me go," Frank said. He wanted Otter to confirm this was true. Otter knew Hunter, after all.

But Otter laughed. It was an empty laugh, devoid of humor. "Yeah, right. Stop dreaming, chum. Lying is what she does best. She’d say anything to keep you from trying to get out of here. You can’t believe a word that bitch says."

Frank took in Otter’s words, weighing them against Hunter’s promise to be merciful if he didn’t try to escape and kept Otter from getting out. Frank believed one thing for certain. If she caught them trying to leave, she would not hesitate to cut them both down.

Frank wanted to believe Hunter. He had to admit he respected her. She was one hell of a tough and beautiful broad, and she’d so far been pretty good to him, considering. This Otter guy, on the other hand, was obviously no match for her. And Frank found it hard to warm up to someone whose stench was making his eyes water. He’d just play it cool for now, see what developed. "Hey, man, what the hell happened, anyway? Why was Hunter in her underwear, and how did you both end up covered in food?"

Before Otter could answer, they both were drawn to the sound of the big steel door opening. Hunter was coming.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-30