Skin Game

CHAPTER 15

Kyra closed her eyes. Maybe that would make it easier. After everything she’d put him through tonight, she owed him an explanation.

“It doesn’t work with you anymore,” she began. “But the first time I touched you, I stole your ability to fight. You may even have noticed the theft, felt sick or slightly dazed. Sometimes people do, depending on their sensitivity. The loss isn’t permanent . . . I never know how long I’ll have a talent, so I generally work fast after I’ve tapped a mark.”

She felt him stiffen against her and waited for the derision. When she was a kid, she’d confided in a couple of people, despite her dad’s insistence it was a bad idea and would cost them their edge in the game, but it never worked out. They always thought she was a liar, and over the years, she’d stopped trying.

“So . . . I didn’t imagine it,” he said slowly.

She lifted her head, surprised. “You noticed.”

“I did, the first few times. But it started to slack off, and then eventually, nothing happened at all, so I thought I’d hallucinated the whole thing.”

Kyra looked puzzled. “That’s new. I’ve never had it stop working before.”

“Which means you can’t touch without stealing something.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t know how depressing that thought became. “And if I make contact with too many marks, take in too much, it feels like my head’s going to explode.”

“That’s why you’re so careful about touching people.”

“I can’t believe you haven’t said I’m crazy yet.” She shook her head.

“Well…” He smiled. “You are, but not because of this. I’ll be honest . . . if I hadn’t noticed some of this stuff on my own, I wouldn’t believe you. But you’ve given me proof that’s hard to deny. You kicked that guy’s ass in the convenience store using my moves. There’s no way you could’ve learned those independently. You hardly knew me.”

“You saw that.” She sat up. “How come you didn’t help me?”

“It seemed like you had the situation under control.” Rey sank his hands into her hair, smoothing it gently with his fingers. “So this . . . ability . . . how does it work? Is it random? Do you have any idea why you can do this?”

“Based on what I’ve figured out by trial and error, I get whatever the other person’s best at. In your case, that’s combat.” She leveled a long look on him. “Since this is out in the open now, we’re going to talk about why that is, at some point. The duration might be random for all I know. I tried timing it at first to see if that made a difference, but the results came back so varied, I didn’t learn much. Now I just work fast and hope for the best.”

“There’s some adrenaline in that,” he noted.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “There is. I like the risk and the rush. Will I get the job done before I lose it?”

“That’s how you manage the pool and darts hustle,” he realized aloud. “You seem so unskilled in the first few matches because you really are. Genius.”

Kyra nodded, wondering if he would put the rest together. “As long as I don’t repeat the game in the same place, it works like a charm. Keeps me from honest work.”

“But it also makes it impossible for you to settle down.”

She gave him a look. “Do I look like I want to?”

“Point taken.” Rey’s dark brows drew together, and she could almost see him tracking through everything that had happened. “The biker who broke in . . . you said—”

Kyra nodded.

“I let a rapist go, didn’t I?” He swore, low and virulent in some mixture of Spanish and Portuguese. “If I’d known, I never would have . . ..” Rey broke off, as apparently something else occurred to him. “You felt what he’s best at. Is it still with you? Christ, no wonder you were sick.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s been gone for a little while now, just residual nausea left. Staying power isn’t his forte.”

“I’ll track him down if you want. I don’t care how long it takes.”

Tempting. She hated to think of the son of a bitch hurting other women. But she couldn’t afford to backtrack to Texas, and she didn’t want to send Rey away at this point. In a few more days, they’d be in North Dakota, where she’d find Mia, and then . . . well, she’d see. But she had a gnawing impulse to ask Rey to go away with her, someplace warm and sunny that didn’t put U.S. extradition high on their priority list.

She thought about what he’d said to Steve. “What do you think Dwight’s going to do when he gets your message?”

Rey started to smile. “If he’s as dumb as I think he is, he’ll shoot the messenger and ignore everything he said.”

“I live in hope.”

This would be the perfect time to tell him everything, but she wasn’t ready. Trust didn’t come easy to her, and she wasn’t about to put all her eggs in one basket, in case he turned out to be different than she thought. Money talked a good game, and while Rey might sneer at a small-time punk, Serrano was in a different league. He could lay down serious currency.

“This means we need to watch our backs,” he was saying. “We might have more assholes coming, and he was right about your car. It’s memorable. If they have people looking, they’ll spot us pretty fast. I don’t suppose you’d consider trading it in?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Hope it doesn’t come to that,” he muttered. “If you’re feeling up to it, we should pack and get on the road. We may have people heading for us as we speak.”

In answer, she slid out of bed and started gathering up her stuff. The room next door was trashed, so she left some cash on the night table to cover the damage. She didn’t intend to discuss the issue with the night manager. Within five minutes, they were ready to roll out.

Rey jingled her car keys. “Me or you, sweetheart?”

Until meeting him, she’d always hated endearments because they were either meaningless or representative of emotional entanglements she couldn’t experience. For the first time, she felt like she might matter to somebody else. And she liked it.

“You can,” she said. “I’m still a little shaky. I better not be driving if I have to hurl again.”

“Is that likely?” He looked a little worried.

“Hope not. But I wouldn’t know. Never run across anybody like him before.”

Kyra hoped she never did again. Words couldn’t describe the horror of someone who gloried in his ability to use his body to inflict pain. The bastard liked it and knew he was good at it, a real virtuoso in fact. He’d been thinking about doing it to her right up until he laid hands on her. A hard breath shuddered through her, and she fought the feeling that he’d contaminated her somehow, deep in places where she could never scrub it out.

“You’re okay,” Rey said quietly. “Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

It wasn’t even dawn as they crept out of his room, bags shouldered. She’d collected all the supplies—like the spices—that would travel well. Maybe he could cook for her again. There was something homey about a meal somebody made for you, even if he cooked it in a cheap motel kitchenette. If anyone had asked her if she craved home cooking, Kyra would’ve said no—but now that she’d tasted it, she wouldn’t mind seconds, preferably under circumstances where she got to digest the food. She’d liked watching him work, knowing he was doing it to impress her.

Nobody else was stirring as they slid into the Marquis. Kyra watched the lot every bit as carefully as Rey at this point. After tossing their things in back, he hopped in, stuck the key in the ignition, and they were off toward the lightening horizon.

“Where are we headed?”

She could tell him that much. “Do you know how to get to I-76 from here?”

“Yeah.”

“Head for it. We didn’t get much sleep, so we won’t drive far today. I’m thinking we’ll stop in Alliance, Nebraska, and try to get some rest. From there, it’s Sioux Falls, and then Fargo.”

“So that’s our final destination.”

“Yep.” She wasn’t telling him why. “I don’t think we should take two rooms anymore. We can get two beds if you prefer, but it would be safer if we stayed close.”

“That’s true,” he agreed. “But let me ask you this . . . are you out of your mind?” His tone was level, almost pleasant, belying the sharp words.

She glanced at him in surprise. “Huh?”

“You’ve been teasing me longer than any woman has a right to. Now you ask if I prefer two beds? No. I want you under me. I want to wake up smelling you on my skin. Is that clear enough?”

“I don’t think it’s normal for you to feel like that. You just saw me puke.” Jesus. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Why bring it up? Let him forget, for fuck’s sake.

“We’re not exactly poster children for normal, are we? Get some sleep.”

Kyra balled one of his sweatshirts to make a pillow, and it took her all of three minutes to fall asleep. Reyes could follow the signs to Nebraska, no problem. But could he still kill her? This was the first time since he’d gone into the business that he’d run into trouble completing a contracted assignment, but he was sure Foster had lied about her. There wasn’t a vicious bone in her body. Sure, she could be wicked, but cruelty was a different instinct.

She hadn’t stolen the money, either; Reyes was positive of that now. Kyra was a con artist, not a thief, and she used her unique ability to power her games. Given what he knew of her, he’d bet she had won the money, maybe not fairly, but it was hers. He didn’t know why Serrano was so determined to see her dead for it. Given his personal wealth, he could afford to shrug off a couple mil. He’d make it back in less than a week.

So it had to be something more. It rankled him that she hadn’t confided in him when he’d tried so damn hard to be receptive. His first instinct had been to call bullshit, but he’d restrained it, telling himself to hear her out. By the time she was done, he had to admit her story made a crazy kind of sense and dovetailed with what he knew of her. Trouble was, he didn’t know enough.

For one thing, he had no idea why they were stopping in Alliance, Nebraska. He’d never heard of the place, and couldn’t imagine it would be big enough to support a con. They hadn’t made any money in Denver, either. On the surface, Kyra had shared a lot with him. When you took a closer look, she’d told him just enough to shut him up.

Frustrating.

Reyes drove in silence. Every now and then, his gaze slid to the woman slumped in the passenger seat. In sleep, she seemed smaller somehow, stripped of the attitude that gave her presence. He realized how much weight she carried alone . . . and her shoulders looked downright fragile. Even the smattering of freckles on her cheeks made her look younger, more vulnerable.

She’d hate him thinking along those lines so he kept his eyes on the road. Things greened up as the day wore on. The closer they got to Nebraska, the more farmland surrounded the road. As they crossed the state line, Reyes read the sign “Welcome to Nebraska, the good life,” with an ironic quirk of his mouth. He couldn’t ever recall visiting this particular state, surely for good reason.

In late morning, Kyra stirred.

“Are we almost there?” she asked sleepily.

He’d been seeing signs for a while now, driving well over four hours without a break. His legs were screaming, as were his shoulders, and Reyes wouldn’t mind a pit stop, but they were within reasonable distance now. He didn’t like getting off the highway unless he had no choice.

“I think so. Thirty more miles according to the last sign. Are you good for it?”

Kyra considered. “I could use a bathroom, but I can wait. We’ll be looking for the Sunset Motel, by the way.”

Yet another seedy fleabag, he guessed. What he wouldn’t give to take her to a five-star resort somewhere. Lately, he’d been enjoying a fantasy about them sunning on a white, sand beach together somewhere with a waiter bringing frozen drinks on demand.

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

She shifted in her seat, crooking her knee toward him. Reyes felt her studying his profile in an odd prickle of awareness. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the tear in her jeans, revealing a shapely knee.

“I never said thanks,” she said softly.

“For what?”

She tugged at raveling strands of worn denim. “Taking care of me. It’s rarely been that bad. Usually I can deal with it, no big.”

Instinctively he knew he needed to answer right, not too much weight, not too much levity. “I won’t say it was nothing. You freaked me out. But I suspect being good to you will have its rewards.”

Her lips curled into a feline smile. “You know, you’re right about that. I’m thinking what I put you through last night counts as working for what you want, probably harder than a man should have to. Don’t worry, Rey. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I have no doubt.” A billboard caught his eye. “I think we’re coming up on our exit in a few miles. What’s so special about this place? Do you have business here?”

She shook her head. “No, this is vacation. Business starts up again in Sioux Falls. Ever heard of Carhenge?”

Reyes lofted a brow. “Ah, no.”

“Basically, this family made a replica of Stonehenge out of wrecked cars. It’s a memorial for the guy’s dad. They did it on their farm, and at first the town council tried to shut them down. But now it’s a tourist attraction, and there’s a society dedicated to preserving the place. They used a 1962 Caddy as the heel car,” she added with visible enthusiasm.

He understood the appeal of it for her now: rebel spirit, memorial to one’s father, and cars. “Sounds interesting.”

“I’ve always wanted to see it . . . and I figured since it was kind of on the way . . .” Kyra bit her lip, adorable in her uncertainty, although she wouldn’t like to hear that. “Well, I kind of wanted to share it with you. I mean, you probably think it’s dumb—”

“No,” he cut in, oddly touched. “I think I’d like to see it, especially if it’s important to you.”

“I wish I could do something like this for my dad,” she went on. “But this place is special because the guy’s dad used to live here. We don’t have anything like it . . . we never stayed in one place long.”

Yeah, he’d gathered as much. “Maybe there will be something you can do on-site, something to commemorate him.”

Her smile radiated so much frank gratitude it almost tore out his heart. “Let’s get a room first. From the motel, it’s less than three miles. They’re open daily during sunlight hours.”

It wasn’t difficult to find the Sunset Motel, which aimed for quaint more than sleazy. He supposed that made sense, given its proximity to an Americana attraction. They got a room without trouble and stashed their things. If he didn’t quite like it, he was getting used to constant travel, but he wouldn’t mind visiting a Laundromat. That concern would be out of character, however. A vagabond like he purported to be would just hose things off in the shower and hope for the best.

When he let them into their room, his gaze focused on the bed, one queen, more than adequate to accommodate them in any position she wanted. Reyes stifled a groan. Instead of wrecked cars, he’d rather see her naked. He tossed down their bags and visited the bathroom. As he washed up, he hardly knew the man in the mirror.

Reyes hadn’t worn jeans and T-shirts of his own free will since he could afford better. Dressing like this reminded him of wearing cast-off clothing because Cesar didn’t see anything wrong with telling anyone who would listen that his kid was growing so quick he couldn’t keep him in pants. He’d never known—or maybe cared—how much it stung to know nothing he’d touched had ever been bought just for him.

Fuck it. Clothes didn’t make the man. He needed to call Foster to placate him, but his phone was in the other room. If he went out to get it and then went back into the bathroom, it would look suspicious. He’d come too far in her esteem to jeopardize it now. It was only a matter of time until she confided in him completely. And then he could figure out the best way out of this mess, maybe some compromise that would satisfy Serrano, safeguard his own reputation for getting the job done, and leave Kyra her life.

At least that was what he told himself as he blotted his face dry. He could use a shave, but that could wait, too, preferably until just before he made love to her. If she could take a vacation, so could he.

Kyra took her turn, and when she came out, he saw she’d brushed her hair and put on some lipstick. The paint on her mouth made her eyes look that much more innocent in comparison, and he didn’t understand it at all. How could someone who lived like she did have such an unsullied soul?

Reyes held out a hand. “You ready to check this place out?”