Page 96 of Risky Passion

I pulled it on, doing up the buttons.

"Sweet mother of . . ." I wrinkled my nose. "You weren't kidding."

"Hey, I told you." Whitney's protest trailed off when he caught my grin.

"Just messing with you." I winked at Jaxson, and the smile that crossed his lips reached his eyes, transforming his whole face.

Holy smokes, he’s handsome when he lets his guard down.

The shirt hung almost to my knees, so I knotted it at my waist, trying not to think about how weird I felt dressing in his brother's clothes while Jaxson watched.

Jaxson eased up on the gas as we took the exit ramp. "Okay, Tory, if you get a phone, you make two calls and then get out of there. Keep it brief with Whisper. Tell her about the corrupt cops and that Parker's our only clean contact. Have him coordinate with her directly."

I nodded, locking away each detail, determined to get it right.

"Whitney, write down Parker's number." Jaxson glanced at his brother.

Whitney rummaged through the middle console for a pen and paper and scribbled down the number.

“Here.” He handed the note to me. “Parker can get bossy, so tell him you don’t have time to fill him in, but we will as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” I said, shoving the note into my pants pocket.

"And tell Parker I'll meet him at Rosebud Wharf in fifty minutes, an hour at the most," Jaxson said. "Make sure he connects with Whisper about where we can secure you two and these files."

Jaxson guided the car into the darkest corner of the petrol station, well away from the handful of other vehicles. My legs shook as I climbed out, and when I caught my reflection in the window, my breath hitched. Christ. My hair was a rat's nest, my face was streaked with dirt. And I was missing a shoe. I definitely looked like I'd crawled through hell.

I squared my shoulders, praying someone would let me use their phone before they called emergency services. Or worse, the police.

Jaxson's hand caught my arm, and his touch was so gentle it reached right into my heart. "Be careful."

"I will."

"Any sign of trouble, you get out and we'll handle it. Okay?"

"Jaxson, I'll be fine." I squeezed his hand, ignoring how that brief contact sent warmth spreading through my chest. As I walked away, trying to finger-comb my hair, I told myself his concern wasn't special. He would show the same care for anyone in this situation.

The fluorescent lights hit me like a spotlight as I pushed through the entrance to the petrol station. Keeping my head down, I walked through the cafeteria scanning the signs until I spotted the restrooms. A teenage girl manning the counter stared as I passed. I quickened my pace and stepped into the bathroom, grateful that it was empty.

The mirror confirmed my worst fears. Dried blood crusted my temple, and what I'd thought was dirt on my cheek was actually a nasty bruise blooming purple. I grabbed paper towels and turned on the tap, trying to make myself look less like an escapee from a horror movie.

Even with the blood gone and my hair somewhat tamed, I still looked like crap, but maybe now people would think "rough night" instead of "violent criminal."

I stepped out of the restroom and scanned the dining area. A middle-aged couple was at a table in the corner, eating hamburgers.

I shuffled over, channeling helpless and harmless. "Excuse me, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but could I possibly borrow your phone? Mine's dead, and my friend's probably having kittens because I promised to call her an hour ago?—"

"Oh, honey, of course." The woman's concerned frown took in my appearance as she unlocked her phone. "Here you go."

"Thank you so much. I'll be quick."

I settled two tables away, and as I dialed Whisper, the fluorescent lights hummed overhead. A tired-looking trucker shuffled between chip packet aisles.

"Yello?" Whisper’s voice was like being thrown a lifeline.

"Whisper, it's Tory."

"Holy mother of tacos! Where the hell have you been? We've had half the country looking for you!"

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