Say Goodbye (Romantic Suspense #25) by Karen Rose

            “I’ll be in the surveillance van tomorrow morning,” he told her after he’d eaten. “I can at least hack into their Wi-Fi cameras, but most, if not all, are probably hardwired. Until I can manufacture a network crisis, we can’t touch the hardwired cameras or the alarm systems.”

            “It’ll be okay,” she told him. “Although I am relieved that you’ll be close.”

            “So will Rafe. He’s going to be in the SUV you’re borrowing from Karl. I’m going to smuggle you back into the parking garage of your apartment in time for you two to switch vehicles and leave.”

            “Does Raeburn know?”

            “No. I know I should tell him.” He’d felt guilty about it all damn day. But not guilty enough to tell him. “Rafe knows that and he’s still okay with helping. He’s so grateful that you’re doing this for Mercy.”

            “Mercy doesn’t know,” she murmured.

            “Let’s keep it that way.”

            “Agreed.” She put his dishes in the dishwasher, then tugged him to his feet. “Come on. You need to sleep.”

            “I need you.”

            “I’ll be right there with you.” They walked up the stairs, Pebbles behind them. “This room is ours for tonight.”

            He stripped to his boxer briefs and slid between the sheets, happy when she stripped as well.

            She noted him watching and winked. “I’m going to take care of you. On your stomach.”

            His libido flared, then waned. He grimaced, embarrassed. “I never thought I’d be too tired.”

            “Hush,” she said again, surprising him when she straddled his upper thighs. “ ‘Taking care of you’ wasn’t a euphemism for sex.”

            Then he groaned when she began massaging his back, long strokes that felt so damn good.

            She chuckled. “Keep groaning like that and everyone will believe that’s what we’re doing.”

            “Like they don’t already,” he murmured, already relaxing. “They probably have a betting pool for that, too.”

            “Probably,” she said and he could hear her smile.

            This . . . This was good. Too good. Fear lanced his mind, making him tense up. Please don’t let her get hurt. Please just let me have this. Have her.

            “You’re thinking,” she chided quietly. “You went all tense just now. I guess I’m going to have to work harder.”

            She did, giving all the muscles in his back attention before scooting lower, tugging his boxers off to work on his buttocks.

            “Hmmmm.” His body was starting to wake up, but his brain wasn’t cooperating now. He felt floaty.

            “Let go, Tom,” he heard her say. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            He must have needed the words, because they were the last ones he remembered hearing before sleep finally claimed him.





TWENTY-EIGHT



SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

            MONDAY, MAY 29, 8:30 P.M.





Nurse Innes met DJ when he came in through Sunnyside’s employee entrance. Once again, she held a mask. This time he took it, wearing it without complaint.

            “You get only one ambulance ride,” she said as they walked to Pastor’s suite. “You can say goodbye to your dad, but you can’t stay here for long. The target on your back is too big.”

            His day had sucked, ending with his finally making a call to Nurse Innes when he got close to Sunnyside in the fourth of the vehicles he’d stolen that day. Afraid that Kowalski would be waiting for him in retaliation for the weapons he’d stolen and the men he’d killed, he’d asked the nurse for help getting into the facility unseen.

            Innes had sent an ambulance for him and he’d had to ride in the back. But it had worked. If Kowalski had been waiting for him outside, he’d missed him. At least the Feds didn’t know about this place. If they had, he’d never have risked it.