glanced around the room. She needed a diversion. Why couldn’t Sarah cry now?
“B-but you said your cell phone wasn’t working properly. It’s probably bodged up. I think you should try the pay phone again.”
“I’ve already taken too much risk. That phone out there can be traced in a heartbeat.”
She took another step back and was cornered. Literally. The wall was at her back and a glaring Agent Gianetti stood towering over her. “Are you sure they’ll search for us? I mean, I only saw that man for a moment. I don’t know that I could identify him.”
He gentled his voice at her obvious confusion. She didn’t want to believe him. Heck, her safe little world had just been blown wide open. A dangerous drug dealer and his pack of thugs were looking for Mary Poppins and her three charges. He’d be fighting it, too.
“He can’t take that chance. And I can’t take the chance that he finds you.”
“B-but I haven’t done anything wrong,” she stammered. “I’ve only been in the States for six days. How can a person get in this much trouble in such a short time?”
Her eyes were big as saucers as she chewed nervously on her lower lip. They were both whispering because the children were finally asleep. James and Samuel were in the double bed and Sarah in the portable crib they’d managed to wedge in the corner.
“If there were any other way, believe me, I’d do it myself. But I can’t keep you safe, not feeling like this. If the bullet stays in much longer, I’m gonna get really sick and I won’t be able to protect you. I won’t be able to protect those babies.”
He read the uncertainty in her eyes and realized he was getting nowhere. It might take all night to convince her. Perhaps what she needed was a challenge. “If you’re gonna get all squeamish and faint on me, then—”
“No, no. It’s not that. It’s just…I don’t want to hurt you and I see no way around the fact that it’s going to hurt dreadfully.”
Dreadfully. Yeah. A far more civilized word than he would’ve chosen. It was gonna hurt like freakin’ hell. But there was no other choice. Fourteen hours and he still hadn’t reached Murphy or his commander. That fact alone had alarm signals crawling up his spine.
He had to get them out of here…the sooner the better, but he couldn’t drive any distance with a bullet in his butt. They were wasting valuable time. It had just gone dark. They should be making tracks instead of talking. “Let’s go,” he ordered. “Into the bathroom. We can turn on the water to cover our voices.” He tugged on her arm, leading her to the closet-size bathroom. “You got any Band Aids in that bag?”
She nodded and immediately went to work, digging through her travel case for supplies. Luke sighed and turned on the faucet. He’d have to sterilize his knife with hot tap water. If he didn’t get an infection out of this, it would be nothing short of a miracle. When he turned back, a small mountain of first-aid supplies was stacked on the counter. He blinked and shook his head in amazement. Jillian was prepared for war-zone triage.
“You always carry so much stuff?”
She raised startled eyes to his in the mirror. Her skin was so pale it made her eyes appear even bluer, like the sky just before a storm. “Well, with the children and everything, I thought it best to be well prepared. I bought one of each kind.” She blew out a nervous breath. “I’m ready.”
He smiled at her reflection in the mirror and watched her pull her hair back in a lopsided ponytail. The color wasn’t brown at all but a beautiful cinnamon. It was long and wavy and just a little bit wild. He’d bet the strands would slide like silk between his fingers.
“Okay, tell me what you want me to do.”
“All right. In the next minute or so, you’re gonna get to know me real well.” He paused when her gaze dropped and noticed the telltale pink flush flare across her cheekbones. He hadn’t thought it possible for a woman her age to blush. “Try not to be nervous. It’ll hurt, but I swear I won’t make a sound,” he promised.
“Oh, God.”
Impulsively he grabbed one of her hands. “Look, if you hesitate—if you go slow—it’ll hurt worse. I want you to make a crisscross cut over the hole about this big.” He drew on her palm while she listened intently, hanging on every word, and he felt a measure of her tension dissipate.
“It was a small-caliber bullet and it was shot from a pretty far distance. It can’t be in there very far…maybe an inch. Once you make the cut, I want you to take the edge of the blade and probe in there like this.” He pointed the blade down and gently touched her palm, careful not to press too deep. “The sooner you find it, the better.”
“What then? When I find it, I mean?”
She blanched again and her eyes carried a hunted look, as though she knew there was no way to escape. “As soon as you feel it, try to get the blade underneath and lever it out that way. If not, we’ll use those evil-looking tweezers you’ve got there.”
She jerked her hand from his and raised it to her mouth. “Ohmigod, Luke—I don’t know if I can…”
He reached out and gently pried her fingers from her lips, giving them a little squeeze. “You can do this. I know it.” He waited while she composed herself once again, watching as she took a shaky breath. “You need to wash your hands really well and then I’m gonna lean way over the counter and you’re gonna go to work. Okay?”
She swallowed convulsively and shook her hands, as though shaking the jitters out of her fingers. “Right. I’m ready.”
Luke took a deep breath and unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Sweet Jesus, could this be any more awkward? A beautiful woman was about to carve up his butt in the shabby little bathroom of Jethro’s Rent-A-Shack. If the guys ever found out about this, he’d never hear the end of it.
He noticed that Jillian played it cool. She’d averted her eyes when he’d dropped his pants and bit her lip when he’d grunted and launched himself up onto the counter. At least he could keep his underwear on…what little was left of the blood-soaked cotton. He tried not to wince as she peeled them away from his right buttock. Once she was finished, he’d cut them off and burn them in the sink. Unfortunately he’d be forced to go commando for a day or so until it was safe to buy underwear.
“How’s it look back there?”
She stifled a chuckle. “How exactly do you mean? It’s a rather fine-looking butt, if that’s what you’re hinting at.”
Could this get any more embarrassing? He shook his head and tried not to watch her in the mirror. “What I mean is, how does the bullet hole look?”
“Don’t clench up. I’m just cleaning the area with alcohol.”
Right. She pours something freezing on his ass and she doesn’t want him to react? “Well?”
Jillian raised her gaze to meet his in the mirror. “It looks…angry.”
“Angry? What the he—” He took a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to remember that she was very nervous. “What does ‘angry’ mean?”
“It looks red and very tender
