Chapter 9: Give me answers.

BLISS KEPT HER GAZE straight ahead. Wendy's gated community was three turns away. Bliss' car was in the drive. In a matter of minutes Travis would drop her off and go do whatever commando-type thing he did to rescue people. Or something. She wasn't sure what he would do, but her imagination supplied plenty of scenarios, some she wished would get out of her head.

"Heard anything yet?" She couldn't shake the feeling that the freaking FBI should have been able to get information sooner. After all, wasn't that how it worked on TV?

"No."

"Why?"

"Reasons." He turned the SUV into the community. The guard from earlier waved them in. From the looks of it, the guy had sucked a lemon since they last saw him.

"And those would be? How is the FBI even involved? I don't understand."

"It's complicated."

"Explain it to me."

Travis drove all the way to Wendy's house and put the truck in park. She turned to face him. If she had to make him understand, she would.

"She's my sister. I want to know what to expect. I know you think I'm some weak, crying woman, but I had my moment. It's over. I need to know if I should prepare our family for the worst. You don't get it, but things haven't always been easy with Wendy. Wendy...she tried to kill herself a couple of times in high school."

Travis turned his head and stared at her with those unreadable eyes of his. Was she getting through to him? Did he maybe understand? She'd lay it out there for him from beginning to end if she thought it would help.

"There weren't programs, support groups, or social media movements back then. College...we were just glad she survived it, to be honest. When she married Grayson, it was like we had a new version of her. Like...I don't know, she had this real second chance. This depression, it's high school all over again. She hasn't been suicidal, thank God, but that's what we're afraid of. Our parents are still in denial about her depression right now, so if there's no chance she's still alive, I need to know so I can prepare them. Losing her...it'll break their hearts."

"If the guy I'm hunting took her, she's still alive."

"And if it was someone else?"

"We still have time."

"You won't tell me what happens to the girls."

"No. You don't need to know that."

"But what if it happens to Wendy?"

"It won't."

"How do you know that?"

"I just-"

His phone rang through the speakers, cutting off what he was about to tell her.

"Brooks, what did you-oh, Lali? Hi." Travis produced a pad of paper from the center console and a pen. "Right... Okay... Compliance Systems, any chance that's a current or past employer? ...God damn it, yes. I'm on my way now."

"What? Did they find her?"

Travis ended the call and tossed the phone onto the dash with a clatter. He gestured at the passenger door.

"Get out," he said.

"No."

"Bliss, I'm not fucking around. You need to get out now."

"I'm not getting out of this truck. You can haul me out, but I'll follow you. She's my sister. I've always been there for her, it's always been me picking up her pieces. If you find her, do you know what to do for her? Do you know how to handle her?"

She was pretty sure she could hear Travis' teeth grinding. They stared at each other for a moment.

"Fuck." He sat back in his seat. "One, you stay in the god damned truck. Two, you do what I say or I'll damn well handcuff you and put you in the back. Three, keep your head down."

"That sounds kinky."

"This isn't a game, Bliss."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. Drive. I will do exactly what you tell me to, I promise." She buckled her seatbelt. "Where are we going?"

"Out of town a ways. The plates we got were stolen. They belonged to a guy in New Mexico. They hit on something when they cross-referenced the make and model of the car to the employee records at Compliance Systems."

"And? Should we call the police? Or what?"

"I'll call my backup. When we have Wendy, we'll call the cops in to make the arrest." He pressed the accelerator so hard they shot forward and the tires squealed.

"Then what?"

"Then you and Wendy get your lives back."

Travis snatched his phone before it scuttled across the dash to her side and made another call. She could barely focus on his side of the conversation. How would they find Wendy? Would she be okay? Or would they be picking up pieces? Should Bliss even be part of this? There was no way she was about to back out now she'd convinced Travis to bring her, but she had to wonder if it was the smartest place for her. Regardless, her points about Wendy and needing her were true.

"Fuck." Travis tossed the phone into a cup holder and gripped the wheel with both hands.

"What?"

"They can't leave for an hour. God damn it."

"Why?"

"Because they're here on another job and can't leave their client."

"Oh. So, what are we doing?"

"I'm going in. You will stay in the truck."

"What if you need help?"

"I can handle myself."

"But, what if you get into trouble? Should I call the cops after a little while?"

"Cops will just get in my way."

"Okay, but-"

"If you're going to question the way I do things, get out now."

Bliss clamped her lips together and held onto the door. Travis pushed the SUV faster entering the ramp onto I-15 headed out of Vegas. They passed the Speedway and kept going. The barren landscape spread out all around them, broken up only by rocks, shrubs, and the odd assortment of trash. Every so often his phone issued navigation instructions, leading them further away from the interstate and anything resembling civilization. They passed the occasional dirt trail leading away from the old road, but were otherwise alone.

"Where are we?" she asked after they'd driven nearly half an hour in silence.

"Northeast of Vegas."

"How close are we?"

"This should be our turn, here." He nodded at yet another path leading away from the road. This one was gravel instead of dirt.

"Why aren't you turning?" She craned her neck to look behind them.

"You don't drive up to a kidnapper's house and ask for your loved one back. That's not how this works."

She'd grown somewhat accustomed to Travis' gruff nature of speaking, but now it was different. His voice was cold, nearly emotionless. He didn't glance away from the road-he was completely focused. She didn't know if she should be scared or impressed.

"What are you going to do?"

He slowed the SUV and checked the mirrors, peering behind them before pulling off the road onto a bit of clear ground.

"You'll stay here. I'm going to have a look around." He reached into the center console and removed not one, but two black handguns and an assortment of other things.

Bliss recoiled, pressing her back to the door. She'd never seen a gun in person, at least not out of a holster. It made sense that he'd have a firearm, and she didn't want him to go into a dangerous situation without some sort of protection. But this was her life. Her boring, typical, normal life. These things didn't happen to her.

"By yourself?"

"No, me and my army. Yes, by myself." Travis slid one gun into the top of his right boot. He shrugged into a strange shoulder harness. The second gun went into a holster that rested just under his left arm.

By all accounts, Travis should be able to take care of himself. It wasn't the story he'd told her about Egypt, it was the way he carried himself, the cool confidence, the deadly focus. Yet she couldn't help worrying about him.

"Please be careful," she said.

He stopped and stared at her from behind the aviators. Okay, having that full focus on her was way more intimidating when she couldn't see his eyes. He had big and creepy down to an art, but she could remember what his gaze felt like with heat in it.

"I'll bring your sister back."

"Thank you. But be careful with yourself, too, okay?"

His brow wrinkled as if he didn't understand her.

"Hand me that water in the door." He pointed at the three bottles.

"Should I do anything? Call anyone?" She handed a bottle over.

"No. Keep the truck running"

"I'm not used to sitting around waiting on other people to fix things."

"Be glad you don't have to wait much longer." He pushed his door open.

"Travis?" She reached across and touched his hand gripping the steering wheel.

He paused, one foot already out of the door.

"Seriously, be careful? Please?"

"Your brother-in-law isn't paying me to be careful with myself. He's paying me to get Wendy back."

"Well I'm telling you to be careful."

Again his brow wrinkled.

Were they even speaking the same language?

He pulled his leg back into the truck. His features softened, and she realized there was a lot less room between them now.

"I'll be careful," he said slowly.

She wanted to kiss those lips. It was a desire she'd been ignoring, but now, with only his mouth to focus on, she couldn't deny the urge. He was dangerous and completely not her nice-guy type, but there was something about him that rubbed her the right way.

"Bliss?"

Wow, really nice lips.

"Yes?"

They weren't thin like most men's. Not that he had full, pouty lips either. They were...nice. Enough there to toy with, nibble on, but not draw all the attention to those two bits of flesh. They were the kind of lips a girl wanted to touch.

Travis' hand cupped the back of her head and all thought ceased. She was keenly aware of the way his fingers caught in her hair, the jolt of electric arousal shooting through her body. He pulled her closer. She gasped the second before their mouths met. Her toes curled, and she reached for him, gripping his bicep and leaning into the kiss. He suckled her lower lip. His stubble scraped against her chin and cheek.

"Stay here," he said.

She blinked, but he was already gone.

Holy crap.

Bliss wanted to kiss him again.

She pressed the lock button and wrapped her arms around herself. Travis was going to get Wendy back. Then she was going to kiss the daylights out of that man.