Cobb by Maryann Jordan

25

As soon as Josie stepped into the bright sunshine from the client’s house she had been visiting, Tate was right there waiting on her. She assumed everything must be fine due to the wide grin on his face.

“Since this was your last stop of the day, how do you feel about heading to the airport?”

Now, her smile was as wide as his, and she couldn’t help but clap her hands together. “We can meet Jorge?”

“Yep. He and Drew are on their way back, and it’s such a short flight from Albuquerque that by the time we drive to the airport, they should just be landing.”

“I’d love to!” She climbed into the passenger seat of her car, not even attempting to argue with Tate that she should drive. He had informed her the previous day that while he wasn’t sexist about male and female drivers, he had specific training she didn’t have.

They soon arrived at the small airport in Las Cruces, and Tate passed by the main terminal and parked outside a fenced area.

“Bray is going to meet us here and drive me and Drew back to your place. We’ll pick up dinner so you can let us know what you like to eat.”

She nodded her agreement as they walked over to the chain-link fence, standing together, their eyes toward the sky. Glancing over, she looked at his profile. Not for the first time did the thought cross her mind that Jorge’s friends were handsome. She knew Tate had finally gotten with his childhood sweetheart, and she wondered how they made everything work.

Suddenly, Tate looked down at her, his expression unreadable. She held his gaze, feeling as though he was coming to some kind of conclusion, and while she had no idea what she was being tested on, she desperately wanted to pass.

“You’re good for him.”

She blinked, uncertain of his meaning. Cocking her head to the side, she waited to see what else he wanted—no, needed—to say.

“Not just any woman can handle the life of a Keeper. You understand him. His need for intellectual stimulation. His need for working out problems in his head, wrapping his brain around a case, and figuring out what someone is thinking and why. You get that. While you two are different, you have that in common, and it works.”

While she appreciated his analysis of her and Jorge’s intellectual compatibility, it wasn’t a resounding endorsement of care, comfort, and companionship. Nodding, she waited.

“I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?” he asked, his smile quirked on one side.

She shook her head and smiled in return. “No, Tate. You’re looking out for your friend. I confess that I’m not quite sure what you think of me yet, but I know you have his best interests at heart.”

His hands landed on his lean hips. “What I think is that you and Cobb are good together. I know he cares for you, and I can tell you feel the same.”

“But…” she let the word drag out, hoping he would finally get off his chest what seemed to be pressing him down.

“But nothing. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known and deserves to be happy. So do you. I think you’re both good for each other.”

The sound of a small engine plane approached, interrupting more conversation, and they turned in unison to watch a private plane coming in.

“There they are,” he said.

After the heaviness of the talk she and Jorge had had in the middle of the night, her heart leaped at the sight of his plane as the wheels touched the runway. Glancing back at Tate, she refused to let his concerns weigh her down. Without waiting, she waved as Jorge and Drew alighted from the plane.

The exit gate was near a small building, but she laughed as Jorge jogged over to the fence, his fingers latching onto hers through the chain links. She stood on her tiptoes, and with her lips pressed between a small opening kissed him lightly. Setting back on her heels, she complained, “That’s hardly the welcome home kiss that you see in movies.”

He laughed and said, “Babe, any kiss with you is worthy of the movies.” He glanced to the side and said, “I’ll be right out. Drew’s rental SUV is just over there near the building. He and Tate can go back to your house in that, and we’ll take your car.”

Tate fist-bumped Jorge through the fence. “We’ll meet you at your vehicle.”

She settled into the passenger side as Tate started her car and they drove toward the rental SUV parked near the gate of the fence. She watched Jorge as he walked, loving the way his body moved with a grace that belied his bulk. Suddenly, he jerked around, his gaze shooting toward the other side of the parking lot.

“Go!” he shouted, waving his arms, but before she could react, she pressed back in the seat as Tate stepped on the accelerator.

Before they had a chance to change direction, the horrific sound of crunching metal hit her ears at the same time her body slammed against her door, her head bouncing off the window. She cried out as pain exploded in her temple. “Tate,” she cried out as she spied the crushed driver’s door now barricaded with another vehicle and blood running down his head. More sounds of crashing metal against metal sounded but it came from farther away.

Her door was wrenched open, and hands reached in to jerk her out of the seat as Tate tried to hold onto her. She turned to see Jorge scaling the tall chain-link fence, but something hard and cold was pressed against her head and his movements halted.

“Come no further, halfie,” the growl sounded next to her.

Rage moved through her but pain and fear edged for dominance in her emotional battle.

Jorge’s fierce gaze never wavered. “You’re making a huge fucking mistake. I know who yanks your chain. And I will come after you.”

From that distance, she could see that her car and Bray’s SUV had been rammed into, rendering them both unusable. Afraid to move with the gun still next to her head, she felt the air rush from her lungs at the sight of Jorge atop the fence. An ancient dragon breathing fire had nothing on him at the moment.

“Chill, man. The boss just wants to have a chat with the little lady. And tell your friend over there to back the fuck off.”

Josie’s feet stumbled as the man whose arm was banded around her waist walked backward. Her head pounded as she slid her eyes sideways to see a black vehicle parked close, the windows all darkened. Another man leaned out, and before she had a chance to react, his hand shot out with a hypodermic needle that he quickly jabbed into her arm.

She cried out before losing control of her body and was hauled inside, her door barely closing before the vehicle took off. Popping sounds fired all around, but they sounded far away as though a thick fog had settled over her.

Swallowing down the nausea that threatened to overtake her, her fingers gripped the seat as she slid into unconsciousness.

* * *

Josie blinked awake, the world fuzzy as she rolled over in bed. She tried to remember what she had been doing. Was I drinking? Did I take cold medicine? None of the reasons for her grogginess made sense, but she stretched slowly, wiggling her fingers before rubbing her hand over her face. She winced in pain as a knot was found on the side of her head. Did I fall?

With some difficulty, she pushed to a seated position, finally focusing enough to look around, startled when she didn’t recognize her surroundings. The room was not large, but it was clean. The bed she was sitting on was a thick, foam mattress on a fold-out cot, the type that hotels would offer for a guest if an extra child’s bed was needed. It was also clean. There were no windows but two closed doors.

Memories slowly came back. The crash of metal on Tate’s side of her car. Blood trickling down his face and his legs trapped in the crushed door. More sounds of crunching metal as the other vehicle was rammed. Drew racing toward them with a gun in his hand. And the last thing she remembered was Jorge at the top of the fence, a look of barely controlled rage on his face.

Taking a deep breath, she stood with effort, her head still woozy. With her hand gliding along the wall for support, she opened one door, glad to see that it led to a small but clean bathroom. Having no idea if anyone would come in to get her, she quickly used the toilet and washed her hands, then splashed cold water on her face to help chase the cobwebs away. She stared into the mirror over the sink, not surprised by her disheveled appearance. She lifted a shaky hand to run her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame the thick waves. Her complexion was more pale than usual, and her blue eyes seemed larger on her face.

Turning away from her reflection, she walked gingerly back into the bedroom. Trying the other door, she wasn’t surprised to find it locked. What do they want with me? She’d hoped that finding the mini drive from Caesar and giving it to Jorge would have ended the threats against her. But then if they don’t know I did that, they’ll still consider me a threat.

Looking around the room, her mind ran wild with scenarios, most from movies or TV shows. Try to break the lock. Look for an escape route. Hide behind the door and hit whoever walked in.

But with nothing in the room to use to break the lock she had no way to escape, and with nothing to knock someone out her imaginations were futile. Tired, she sat down on the small bed and leaned her back against the wall. With no idea how long she might be held captive, or how much time had passed that she had been unconscious, she decided she might as well get comfortable.

The image of Jorge settled front and center in her mind, and a shiver ran down her spine at the memory of his face right before she lost consciousness. Her fingers drifted up, feeling the lighthouse charm on the chain underneath her shirt. “I can find you wherever you are.”

Somehow, she imagined that he would be able to do that even without the location sensor in the necklace. But knowing it was around her neck, she breathed easier. He will come. Whether an avenging angel, fire-breathing dragon, or ancient warrior… he will come.

A jiggling noise came from just outside the door before it opened. Gasping as she looked up at the sudden sound, she tilted her head to the side in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“You just couldn’t keep your nose out of it, could you?”