Page 77 of Wicked Suspicion

Standing, Case held out a hand, and when she clasped it, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. She’d been right about the body armor. She could feel it as she leaned into him. Nyx blinked the world back into focus. Only two men were still around. She didn’t know where the others disappeared to or what they were doing. And honestly? She didn’t care.

She looked back at Case and raised her brows. Damned if he couldn’t read her well enough to know exactly what she was hinting at.

“Fireball, this is Baggs and Rusty. They’re friends.”

More like his teammates, but she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t know how many raiders were still alive and in the vicinity, and she wasn’t risking Case’s safety or the safety of his team now. She focused on the red-haired man. “Thanks, Rusty, for saving Case’s life. I couldn’t figure out how to signal him about the shooter.”

“No thanks necessary, ma’am.”

“Probably not, but I appreciate it anyway.”

Case squeezed her waist. “You heard Baggs. We need to move. Rusty, are you riding with the Wizard, or are you on our boat?”

“I’m with the Wizard.”

“Come on,” Case said, urging her toward the dock.

Nyx was grateful for Case’s arm around her because her legs shook. If this was the worst she experienced as the adrenaline receded, she’d take it. Case seated her on the boat and introduced her to Ski, who had the tiller. This Special Forces sergeant looked seriously scary, but luckily for her equilibrium, she was used to intense men—her dad to name just one—and he didn’t rattle her.

Ski didn’t waste any time pulling away from the dock and heading back upriver. She guessed they were going to Trujillo, but she didn’t ask. Case settled beside her in the center of the boat and wrapped his arm around her, tucking her against him. It was usually too hot and humid for this to be comfortable, but she felt cold from the inside out. Probably another side effect of adrenaline.

She leaned into Case and rested her hand high on his thigh. The touch was possessive, but Nyx felt possessive. This man? He belonged with her. All she could do was hope that he felt the same way about her. The fact he was cuddling her in front of his teammates gave her hope.

No one spoke. Maybe because at the speed they were traveling they’d have to yell to be heard over the engine. As they neared a busier section of the river, Ski slowed the boat. They’d be able to hold a conversation now, but no one seemed chatty. Was it their aftermath? After all, they were coming down from a firefight, one where they’d taken lives.

When Case stiffened and moved her hand off his thigh, she knew snuggle time was over. She didn’t wait for him to pull away. Nyx sat up and inched over on the seat. They were nearer to Trujillo than she realized.

“Are we rendezvousing with the rest of the te—your friends?”

Case shrugged. The gesture told her nothing, but she didn’t press.

She stared straight ahead, which meant she had a good look at Baggs, who was sitting in the bow. He had the long sleeves of his fatigue shirt rolled up and she could ID one of his tattoos now. It was a dagger. Interesting choice. He caught her checking it out. Nyx didn’t flinch. “Why a dagger?”

His lips curved. “I was eighteen and stupid.”

“Are you done quizzing Baggs?” Case asked, and he sounded irritated.

“Sure.” She turned to meet his gaze. “Do you have any tattoos?”

“No. They’re identifying characteristics. I prefer to have as few of those as possible.”

Identifying characteristics. Case’s childhood had stayed with him in ways she hadn’t expected.

“The fact he looks as if he’s in high school is unique enough,” Baggs said.

“No, he looks college-age,” Nyx disagreed.

Ski snorted, and Nyx turned her head far enough to see he was amused. Not smiling, but not too far away from it.

“Did Lurch tell you how old he is?” Baggs asked.

Nyx shook her head. “We didn’t discuss it.”

“How old do you think he is?”

“Damn it, Baggs,” Case said. “Knock it off.”

Baggs ignored him. “Come on, guess.”

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