Page 7 of Jacking Jill

The woman nodded, then changed lanes and took the exit ramp. The strip mall came up shortly. Anchored by a large grocery store, the place was busy, the parking lot teeming with activity. Jack scanned the area for the police. There were two black-and-white cop-cars outside the grocery store, which meant the police were probably walking the aisles inside looking for Diego Vargas. The police would only know that he was wanted on a federal warrant, should be considered armed and dangerous, and that they were not to engage but just call in any leads. Jack didn’t expect them to find Diego. The guy was trained to be a ghost, just like Special Forces men all over the world.

“Up there.” Jack pointed towards where he could see his bike parked in a row reserved for two-wheelers. It was on its kick-stand, keys in the ignition—right where Jack had left them like a dumb-ass. It was very unlike him to be that sloppy. Even more unlike him to not have his Delta-trained instincts warn that Diego was so close to the gas station, watching from somewhere in the woods. “Thanks.” Jack unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the passenger’s side door, stuck one booted foot out, then glanced back at the woman. “What’s your name, by the way?”

The woman blinked. “Jill.”

Jack didn’t blink. His eyelids were stuck because time was stuck, totally frozen just like his body was right now. He took a slow breath so he wouldn’t pass out. Blinked away the vivid image of a yipping coyote and a howling hyena, both creatures sounding an awful lot like John fucking Benson. He forced a chuckle. “Your name’s Jill? Imagine that. My name’s Jack.”

“I know.” Jill blinked shyly, then smiled tightly. “I heard that other guy say your name on the phone.” She met Jack’s gaze for a brief moment, then quickly looked away, glancing at the two police cars outside the grocery store, another pulling into the lot as they watched. “They’re looking for the guy who killed the gas station attendant and stole your bike? Diego, right?”

“Right.” Jack’s boot touched the asphalt of the parking lot as he prepared to exit the car. But just then his phone buzzed with a new text, and he sat back in the seat and tapped the screen. It was from Keller. He opened the message.

“What did he do, this guy Diego?” Jill asked, pulling at the neck of her sweater, stealing another glance in his direction. “I mean besides murdering the gas station attendant.”

“It’s complicated,” Jack said distractedly as he stared at Keller’s message.

“Too complicated to explain?” Jill asked with a smile. “Lots of that going on around here. Well, good luck catching him, I guess.”

Jack stared at the message again, then looked up and nodded dumbly. “Yeah, right. Good luck to you too, I guess. Though I’m not sure why you’d need luck for your best friend’s wedding.”

Jill chuckled dryly. “Oh, trust me, I’ll need it.”

Jack tilted his head and looked at her, Keller’s message swirling through his brain, mixing with the strange tingle that felt like the instincts which had abandoned him earlier were now back in full-force. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jill swallowed, a flash of uncertainty darkening her eyes. “Oh, nothing. Like I said, it’s too complicated to explain.”

“We got time,” Jack said, sweeping his gaze towards his bike to see if Diego had planted any explosives on the bike frame. Unlikely, given the short notice—and the fact that Diego wasn’t a terrorist interested in killing innocent civilians. Besides, it was clear that Diego didn’t want to get into a confrontation with any Darkwater guys right now. It appeared Keller was right—Diego needed to be somewhere.

The same place Jill was going.

“We got time? What does that mean?” Jill frowned when Jack stepped out of the car, snatched his keys from the bike’s ignition, then squeezed his big body back into her Honda hatchback’s cramped front seat. “Um, what are you doing?”

Jack calmly pulled the seatbelt across his body, snapped it into place, then tapped his phone screen and began to type out a reply to Keller’s message.

Keller’s message which had said:

“Paige pulled the last number Diego called before destroying his burner phone. Traced the number to another burner phone. It’s switched off right now, but Paige triangulated the last known location via cell towers. Looks like Diego called someone in an upscale suburb of Philadelphia. Benson wants us to stake out that neighborhood, see if Diego turns up to meet someone there. Benson says no FBI for now. You’re still the closest Darkwater guy to Philly. Can you make your way up there while Paige watches to see if that new burner phone comes back online? Reply ASAP or else will send Hogan down from New Jersey.”

“You’re going to Philly, right?” Jack finished typing an affirmative response to Keller, then slid the phone back into the inner pocket of his leather riding jacket. “Well, so am I. You’ve now got a passenger. Let’s go.”

Jill stared, her face changing color, paling to ghostly white then darkening to plum-red when their gazes met and their eyes locked and the air almost crackled with electric intensity that Jack desperately wanted to believe was just his imagination but couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t.

“You . . . you want to ride with me to Philadelphia?” Jill’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, her gaze darting to Jack’s bike, then down at herself like she was desperately trying to gather herself, to tame the energy that Jack could feel swirling around them like a whirlpool gathering strength, about to pull them into its hissing frothing vortex. “Um . . . why, exactly?”

Jack shrugged, drummed his fingers on the plastic dashboard, glanced towards her and grinned. “Because I want to know why your best friend’s wedding is so complicated for you.” He glanced at the blue dress, then flicked his gaze back towards Jill’s flushed face. “Also, if you need a plus-one, I’m a great dancer.”

4

Jill’s heart danced beneath her boobs as she drove her hot red Honda hatchback onto I-95 heading North towards Philadelphia. She’d almost passed out when Jack got back into the car, buckled himself into her passenger seat, and calmly informed her that he was riding with her because . . . because why, exactly?

You know why, came the excited whisper from her thumping heart.

Stop it, Jill informed her silly heart which seemed totally oblivious to the real world. But the excitement still burned bright, a thrill that was way too intense to make sense.

Well, at least Jill didn’t want it to make sense. Because what made logical sense was to stay away from this man. After all, even though it appeared that Jack might have been telling the truth, that he might in fact be a former military guy working for some private security-type outfit, it didn’t mean she was out of danger.

She was just in a different sort of danger now.

“Relax,” came Jack’s voice through her humming head. “I’m not really going to crash your friend’s wedding.”

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