Blind Trust: A Military Romantic Suspense (Men of Steele Book 6) Read online

  The next day, their yard was covered in scraps of photos and documents, insulation, and debris from the damaged homes. There were drives to collect intact pictures and papers to try to reunite them with their owners, to help them salvage whatever they could. The community came together to clothe and feed and house those who were displaced. That had been the one bright spot.

  But months later, when the hardest hit neighborhood was reopened to the public, Todd and his best friend rode their bikes down to see the boy’s old house. Craig made a wrong turn and almost lost his shit. All the street signs and landmarks were gone. The area looked like a war zone with the trees stripped bare, houses in rubble—some with only their fireplaces still standing—furniture and construction materials and other detritus lodged in the skeletal trees.

  Craig had already been back once with his family to scavenge what he could, but he still cried at the pile of wreckage that had been his childhood home.

  The sheer power of nature fully struck Todd then, and it no longer sparked excitement.

  He returned home and immediately began campaigning his mom to buy a tornado shelter. He wanted her to have a safe space, especially with him only a couple years away from leaving home and both of his brothers already off on their own. Not that any of them could protect her even if they were there, but he’d worry less if he knew she had a sanctuary.

  She balked at the expense, but finally gave in after he took her through Craig’s neighborhood. A month later she had what looked like a bank vault installed in the corner of the garage and the next time they faced a tornado warning, Todd had admitted to himself that the safe room was as much for him as her.

  Thinking about his mom pinched something in his chest. Why hadn’t he called her when he’d phoned Kurt? He should have told her he loved her, and assured her he was innocent and unharmed and had a plan. No doubt worry for him was her constant companion right now. Calling wouldn’t have changed that, but it might have eased her mind to hear from him.

  But if he were honest, he knew exactly why he hadn’t made contact. He would’ve broken down the minute he heard her voice, and he hadn’t been ready to do that in public, and especially not in front of Lindsey.

  Coward.

  Right then, he promised himself that he’d get hold of his mother the minute it was safe.

  He composed apologies and explanations in his head—for both his mom and Lindsey—and spun out a dozen possible escape plans depending on how things went down. He ignored the pull of Lindsey’s nearness and tried to pretend the loss of her trust hadn’t cleaved him in two.

  Would she understand why he hadn’t told her about Pete? Did it matter?

  When her shivering intensified, he tightened his arm around her and directed his warm breath across the back of her neck.

  He’d begun to rethink the plan of staying hidden until nightfall when voices approached the truck.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LINDSEY HAD BEEN trying to envision a warm, crackling fire, pretending she was one of those monks who’d mastered the art of controlling their body temperature—and failing miserably—when a voice made her freeze in place.

  The man sounded close enough to spit on. Footsteps crunched on the wet, salted asphalt, and she clamped her lips shut to keep her teeth from chattering loud enough for anyone to hear. Sharing body heat with Todd wasn’t enough to overcome the cold floor beneath them or their damp clothing, and he had it worse being on the exposed side.

  Following his lead, she kept still, holding her breath.

  If anyone studied the contents of the truck too carefully, or moved anything, she and Todd were screwed.

  “I’ll keep an eye out during my shift,” the man said, right on top of them now.

  The truck jerked sideways. Lindsey bit her lip to keep from gasping out loud. Around her, Todd’s body tensed. The door slammed shut and the engine started with a rough growl a few seconds later.

  Putting his mouth close to her ear, Todd said, “I guess we’re going for a ride.”

  She gave a slight nod, too cold to unclench her jaw for speech. The plan had been to wait for darkness and then sneak away from the compound. Getting a ride off the mountain seemed like too much to hope for. But it could also spell disaster. Who knew where they’d end up, or how long they could go without being discovered?

  As they descended the hill, her feet pressed into the front wall of the bed and the tarp’s edges flapped loudly. The metallic scent of exhaust tickled her throat as they bounced over potholes, her already bruised hips getting battered anew.

  Fatigue slammed into her. Today’s revelations about Megan and Todd, and everything she’d faced over the last few months, sucked her into a whirlpool of questions and confusion and pain.

  Megan hated her. Next-level hatred. Like, happy-to-kill-her-level hatred.

  How could Lindsey have misjudged so many important people in her life?

  She didn’t even know the extent of Todd’s duplicity yet. A shudder ran through her and he tightened his hold, bracing as they rounded a bend. She ached to be able to trust him. There had to be one person she could count on.

  And really, how egregious were his lies? If everything he’d told her was false, she’d be well rid of him as soon as possible. On the other hand, if he actually was an ex-PJ, working for a security company, hunting down a killer, could she fault him for not giving her the full truth?

  Sure, they’d had sex, but he’d only known her a couple days. And before that, he’d expected to drop her at the sheriff’s office and return to his mission with her none the wiser. Once they were stuck together, maybe he hadn’t expected to encounter Pete at all.

  Maybe she should just ask him.

  Her head hurt, and not just from her cold-locked jaw or her temple bouncing against the hard floor every time they hit a bump. Would she ever be able to trust her own judgment again?

  Todd’s actions over the last few days had to count for something. He’d saved her, protected her, kept her alive, made her laugh, made her feel…if not loved, something closer than she’d ever had. Respected, valued, admired.

  This very second he was keeping her safe, trying in vain to keep her warm and hidden, likely developing a plan for every contingency.

  It probably didn’t even matter if she could learn to overlook his lies of omission. Even if they were able to turn themselves in to the police safely, they no longer had Megan to testify on their behalf—Lindsey’s gut burned at the fresh wash of betrayal—and Todd had killed Meg’s brother. If anything, the woman’s animus would now be aimed at both Lindsey and Todd. If she could find a way to send them to jail—or worse—no doubt she’d do it.

  The truck bounced and turned right, slamming Lindsey’s head into the metal so hard she saw fairy lights. If she didn’t end up with a concussion, it’d be a miracle.

  Finally, the road turned smooth and the truck sped up, wind slapping the tarp against the toboggans. If her sense of direction was right, the truck was heading north, but that didn’t mean they’d end up in a town. There were plenty of ranches along the way.

  With a sigh, she clenched her eyes shut, somehow drifting off into a state of half-awareness, half-sleep.

  She had no idea how much time had passed when they slowed, made several turns, and then jerked to a stop. The moment of truth.

  The driver’s door creaked open, and then slammed shut hard enough to rock the vehicle. Then, heavy footsteps moved out of range.

  Her heart thrummed against her ribs and nerves danced across her insides, making her jumpy.

  After a couple of minutes, Todd slowly lifted the toboggans and half sat up to peek through the gap. “He’s gone,” he whispered. “You ready?”

  She nodded.

  He shoved aside the sleds and rolled out from under the tarp. In a flash, he was over the side of the truck and then turning back to her with his arms outstretched. Without stopping to think, she let him hoist her up and over until she stood mostly steady on her feet between th
e truck and another car, both of them parked in front of a faded red brick building on a quaint little main street.

  There were people around, but the town wasn’t busy. No one seemed to notice they’d been in the back of the truck. Even if they had, they probably wouldn’t care.

  The streets were dry, and there wasn’t any snow packed on the side of the road, so maybe the lower elevations hadn’t been hit with the storm. The bright sun felt amazing, but she still shivered as the wind cut through her damp jeans.

  Todd’s arm slid across her waist and he steered her toward the sidewalk. If butterflies suddenly danced in her belly, it was definitely nerves, not a reaction to his touch.

  Yeah, right. Now who was the liar?

  The problem with September in southern Montana was that it was too quiet. Kids were back in school, so there were no families crowding the streets of the communities within striking distance of Yellowstone. Few couples, of any age, vied for lunch at the nearest restaurant.

  Under ordinary circumstances, Todd wouldn’t mind the slow pace of the small town he and Lindsey had just landed in, with its old red-brick buildings and snow-capped mountain backdrop. Right now though, he’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable in a crowd. They just needed to find one.

  Or a hideout. He glanced up at an old-fashioned marquee advertising Skyscraper with Dwayne Johnson for a two-thirty showing. The word LOFT fronted the building, vertically spanning multiple stories in huge block letters. It had to be a second-run theater, since that movie had come out months ago.

  “You up for a flick?” Todd asked, his hand still pressed to the back of Lindsey’s damp jacket, reluctant to stop touching her. “I have some cash, and it’d get us off the street while we come up with a plan.” His wallet was pretty light, but he had enough money for two tickets and some snacks. His stomach growled in anticipation.

  She glanced up and nodded. “Good idea. Let me get rid of these first.” She stripped off the makeshift gaiters covering her legs and shoved them into a trash can while he added the F-150’s license plate number to a note on his burner phone.

  Five minutes later, after ordering food and using the restroom, they sat in the back corner of the ornate-but-aging theater with elegantly draped, faded red curtains framing its dingy screen. So far, they were the only two in attendance. They couldn’t completely let down their guard, but maybe they could relax an inch.

  The twenty-something working the ticket/food counter had looked askance at their dirt-caked, bedraggled appearance, but hardly even roused himself to look them in the eye. Todd kept his injured arm turned away, counting on his dark jacket to hide the drying blood. The understandably bored—and monosyllabic—kid had returned to a game on his phone as soon as he’d handed over the food and Todd’s change.

  Now, Lindsey sat to Todd’s left, resting a large bucket of popcorn on one knee and a paper dish of nachos on the other. He held a ridiculous stack of tiny napkins and a giant cup of Coke that barely fit in his hand.

  Her entire body trembled and she stared, glassy-eyed, at the seat in front of her.

  He set the drink on the floor between them and used a few napkins to wipe some wet blood from his jacket sleeve, holding back a grunt at the fiery pain.

  “Want me to take a look?” she asked, blinking rapidly, a deep groove carved between her brows.

  Maybe he’d grunted after all. He shook his head, stuffing the soiled napkins into his jacket pocket so they wouldn’t traumatize whoever cleaned the theater later. “Thanks, but there’s nothing you can do right now.” He’d have to give the wound more attention soon, but the quick wash and paper towel compress he’d applied in the bathroom would have to suffice for now.

  She scrunched up her nose and stared down at the orange sauce coagulating on the chips.

  “How about you?” His seat squeaked as he took the popcorn so she’d have a free hand. “You okay?”

  “Maybe,” she said, her voice clipped. “Happy to be out of sight. I couldn’t breathe out there.”

  That made two of them. Resisting the urge to put a comforting hand on her leg or shoulder or anywhere, he shoved a handful of tasteless popcorn into his mouth and chewed, balancing the container and the napkins on his lap. As long as the guy working the counter—or anyone who came into the theater—didn’t connect them to the pair in the news, they should be safe for a few hours.

  “I’m going to call Kurt,” he said. At her nod, he dialed. The forties big band music being piped into the room was just loud enough to be annoying, but he mostly tuned it out.

  His boss picked up after one ring. “Steele.” The man’s voice was a mixture of caution and hope.

  “It’s me.”

  Kurt let out a relieved sigh. “Did you find the friend?”

  “Yes.” Todd glanced at Lindsey, whose gaze kept straying past him to the doorway that bisected their row. Unlike in modern movie theaters, patrons here entered through the rear, down a central aisle. “Turns out she was in on it,” he said, cringing internally at the memory. “Pete was her brother.”

  He felt more than saw Lindsey flinch.

  “Shit, that’s—” Kurt went silent for a second. “Wait…was?”

  Todd’s jaw clenched and he forced away the image. “He came at me.”

  “Fuck. That’s going to complicate things.”

  His hackles rose. “I didn’t have a choice.” He hadn’t, right? Pete was bigger and stronger—history had proven that—and had been much too close, armed with a wicked blade. If Todd had let the man get any closer, Pete would’ve gutted him like a fish. And then he might’ve gone after Lindsey. Todd had had no other choice but to shoot.

  “I know,” Kurt said.

  That was it. Just two simple words said with complete conviction.

  Thank God someone trusted him. Todd’s muscles loosened a millimeter. Having allies was everything.

  “I’ll call the feds about the shootout too,” Kurt said. “The sooner we get legit law enforcement involved the better. Maybe they can keep the locals from destroying all the evidence.”

  “Good idea. Before I forget, can you take down this license plate?” Todd rattled off the number. “We stowed away in the back of that truck. The feds might be interested in its owner.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Todd took a deep breath and glanced at Lindsey. “We’re ready to come in.”

  “All right. Scott recommended the criminal defense attorney who worked on his case when he was a kid. Marti King-Okonkwo. She lives in Helena now, so depending on where you are, it might take her a while to get there. But she gave me her cell, so I should be able to get ahold of her pretty quickly.”

  The tight band around Todd’s chest loosened. Not just some random lawyer, but one Scott knew personally and trusted. One who would make sure they got a fair chance. It was the absolute best he could ask for. “We’re at the Loft Theater, but I don’t know what town. I’d guess less than an hour north of Tuttle.”

  A flurry of keystrokes sounded in the background and then Kurt said, “Yep, there’s a Loft Theater in Cranston, on Broadway.” Kurt had to have a million questions about what had happened, but all he asked was, “Is it safe to call you back?”

  Todd let his restless scan of the room pause on Lindsey, her face reflecting the colors from the low-budget, on-screen ad for a pawn shop as she carefully bit a cheesy chip. “For now.”

  “Is there anything you’ll need immediately?”

  “Fresh clothes and a first aid kit.”

  “What happened?” Kurt’s voice was sharp.

  “Nothing major. Knife to the shoulder.” The asshole guard at the compound had gotten a cut in before Todd knocked the guy out and took his rifle.

  “Jesus, Brennan.” An aggrieved sigh. “All right, hang tight.”

  “Roger that.” Todd slipped the phone into his jacket pocket.

  “He found someone?” Lindsey reached for the stack of napkins perched on his thigh, the faint pressure of her fingers enough
to send a zing of excitement up his leg.

  He nodded. “One of the guys I work with got into some trouble as a teen here in Montana and she was his lawyer. If Scott recommends her, that’s about as good as it gets.”

  “All right. Now what?”

  Was Lindsey starting to trust him again? He looked around, but they were still alone. “Kurt will call back with details.”

  They ate their snacks in silence. His body and brain felt numb. Pete was dead. Justice had been delivered, but Todd couldn’t process it. He wanted to go back to how things were before. Before Lindsey realized he’d been hiding his motives from her. Before she’d watched him shoot a man in the chest. Before she’d learned that her best friend was a two-faced, murderous bitch.

  “I’m sorry about Megan,” he said.

  Lindsey nodded, her eyes blinking rapidly before she dropped the chip in her hand and took a shaky breath. “Me too. I feel like a fool.”

  “Don’t.”

  “How did I not know?”

  He managed to keep his hands to himself as he said, “Probably the same way I didn’t know Pete was capable of killing his own wife. My cousin.”

  She gasped. “He killed her? Why?”

  Todd rubbed his forehead and took a sip of the Coke. He owed her this. “He was an angry drunk. Probably had PTSD or something, but would never get help. They lived about half an hour from me, and she had called for help a few times before. I’d always managed to talk him down, get him out of the house until he sobered up. So when she texted this time, and refused to call the police, as usual, I grabbed my friend Jason and drove over.”

  Lindsey’s dark brows twisted.

  “Pete was more agitated than I’ve ever seen. I tried to calm and distract him while Jason hustled Bethany and their son Austin out the back door. But Pete noticed and lost his shit. He pulled a gun and started shooting. I jumped him, but…I was too late.” Todd’s heart pounded in his chest like a trapped animal. His throat tightened.