“He needs you to look at his leg,” Tara said. She turned to Valerie. “I’m not doubting your first aid prowess, but Dan was an Air Force PJ. Like a paramedic who drops in behind enemy lines with weapons and bandages.”
Dan shrugged and tilted his head, as if to say, “Yeah, I’m a badass but I don’t want to brag.”
Jesus. No wonder he looked like a commando. “Of course,” she stuttered out, intimidated again but glad someone with real medical expertise could help Scott.
Dan gestured him to a dining chair with a frown. “Let’s take a look.”
Scott sighed and sat wearily, watching his teammate remove first aid supplies from a duffle bag.
“Do you know someone named Alan Albert?” Dan asked, walking to the kitchen to wash his hands and forearms.
Valerie’s heart slammed into her throat. “Yes. He’s the one who drove us to Fort Worth.”And almost got us killed.
Dan returned to Scott and donned a pair of latex gloves. “Kurt called when you were on your way over. Alan was arrested for helping you escape. Apparently, he’s also the one who called the cops. He’s out on bail.”
Her gut turned to a block of ice. If Alan had given her up to her enemies, why had he notified law enforcement too? After everything she’d told him, he couldn’t have been surprised that the men who were after her would use deadly force. But he’d been trying to protect her in his own convoluted way, so maybe when she didn’t change her plans—or when the shooting started—he had second thoughts.
Damn you, Alan.
Tara put an arm around Valerie’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
Valerie took a deep breath and stood slowly, breaking the other woman’s embrace. She couldn’t meet Scott’s gaze. He’d been right about her friend all along, and she’d nearly gotten him killed because of it.
“It’s not your fault,” Scott said.
She nodded, fixing her gaze on the cushy brown carpet and hugging her waist. All of this was her fault. If she’d only kept her mouth shut from the beginning…
Tara cleared her throat and touched Valerie’s shoulder. “I bet you’d like to get into something dry. How about a warm shower?”
“Yes. Please.” Anything to take away the chill. And then she needed sleep. She shook off her melancholy the best she could. Reliving her mistakes wouldn’t change their situation, nor would it help her find a way out.
Tara led her past the kitchen with its Formica counters and white appliances into a short hallway that opened onto a bathroom and two bedrooms.
“There’s a change of clothes here for you.” Tara said as they entered the master bedroom. A pile of clothes was neatly folded on the queen-sized bed’s green comforter next to another set that was presumably for Scott. “I had to guess your size based on your driver’s license info, but I think I got pretty close.”
Valerie’s knees went weak with gratitude, and she suddenly wanted to cry. She was pretty sure everything in her bag except her computer—thankfully tucked into its protective neoprene sleeve—was wet. “Thank you so much. For helping us, for believing in us.”
“Of course.” Tara sounded surprised that she would expect anything less. “We trust Scott, and he trusts you. That’s enough for me.”
Valerie could only nod, still reeling from Alan’s treachery.
“There are empty hangers in the closet for your damp stuff, and extra bedding for whoever takes the couch since the spare bedroom is empty.” She opened the sliding closet doors and glanced at Valerie over her shoulder. “I assume that’ll be Scott.”
“We’ll draw straws.”
Tara smiled, but her dark eyes betrayed her fatigue. “I’ll leave you to your shower. Everything you need should be in there, but holler if I forgot something.”
Twenty minutes later, Valerie emerged warm and clean with washed and dried hair, wearing soft cotton pajamas. Amazing what a hot shower could do for the psyche. Except she could hardly keep her eyes open.
In addition to the pajamas, Tara had provided a red sweater, jeans, and a thick parka in forest green. She’d even thought to include a stretchy sports bra, running socks, and panties along with feminine supplies, a hairbrush and dryer, a razor, toothbrush, and toothpaste. And condoms.
Valerie had blushed at that.
The woman was thorough. Unnecessarily so, since it was Valerie’s fault Scott had been injured. He’d only trusted Alan on her say-so, and she’d been horribly wrong. Even if she and Scott weren’t running on fumes, sex would sadly be off the table.
Despite all of their kisses, at this point, she could only imagine him sticking around because she could help clear his name.
Except he’d tried to convince her they should split up now that he was hurt. Had that been a test? Or was he staying with her out of guilt or a sense of duty?
