A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [50]
Except for a scrape on her cheek, she was clean. Her amazing jade-green eyes were glossy from shock. He leaned forward to check her breathing when tires squealed again.
Roman turned and aimed, concurrently with Domino, who still had her weapon at the ready. But this time, the offending car was a taxi and Mario Capelli swung open his driver-side door. He remained behind the door, a large, unfriendly-looking .357 Magnum clutched confidently in his hands.
“Let her up,” he ordered, jerking his head toward Rachel.
Domino made a slight move to the right. Through clenched teeth, Roman ordered her to stand down. The woman was the most accomplished marksman in the Agency—and a trained assassin. She could take Mario out without batting an eyelash.
“He’s a friend,” Roman explained.
Domino lowered her weapon. She was deadly but not cruel.
Beneath him, Rachel groaned. The sound tore through him with the same velocity as a jacketed hollow-point bullet fired at close range. She’d almost died. On account of his job, his enemies. His lies.
“She’s fine, Mario,” Roman called out. “Just a little groggy.”
The wily taxi driver stepped around to the front of his car with strong, bold steps that belied his advanced age. He kept his weapon out, but he’d lowered the barrel. “Who are you?”
Roman checked Rachel for signs of any other injury. He found nothing, but her eyes were dilated. Unprepared for his jumping on top of her, she’d likely banged her head hard against the ground. “I’m not one of the bad guys, Mario.”
“And why should I believe you?”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Damn. The police would descend any minute. He didn’t have to look up to know that Domino had blended back into the shadows, disappearing into the morning as if she’d never been there. He should have shot her in the back for the trouble she’d caused, kissing him like that. He’d only allowed the kiss to linger because he’d figured Domino had a good reason for creating a scene where they were lovers once again. Now he knew she’d only entrapped him because she knew Rachel had been watching.
Typical.
Rachel pulled herself up onto shaky knees.
“Who was that?”
He didn’t know if she was talking about Domino or the shooters in the car, but he decided going with the latter as a safer topic.
“I’ve never seen that car before,” Roman said, not lying, but of course not telling her the truth, either.
Unfortunately for him, Rachel wasn’t stupid, but she was angry. She pushed up on to her feet, and when she wobbled, Mario buoyed her by the elbows. Roman reached forward to help, but both of their poisonous stares made him retract his hands.
“Rachel, I can explain.”
“Of course you can,” she said, her tone venomous. “Lies spill easily from your lips, don’t they?”
“You have no idea,” he replied, regretfully.
The sirens grew louder.
“Mario, get her out of here.”
She grabbed his arm, but the move cost her as she wavered and nearly toppled.
“Tell me who you are,” she begged.
In that moment, Roman’s heart cracked. God knew, he wanted to tell her everything, but there was no time. And if he let her in on his secrets, what dangers would she face?
“Rachel, go, now. I’ll find you. I’ll tell you everything.”
“Tell me now.”
All around them, faces peered from the windows and doors nearby. A few people in the park across the street pointed and stared. He had to get Rachel out. He’d already involved her more than he had a right to.
“Rachel, you have to understand—”
She pulled herself up to her full height, this tiny auburn-haired sprite of a woman he’d come to care deeply for. “Never mind. I understand completely,” she said, her voice shaky but curt. Her eyes darkened with his betrayal, and as she looked at him one last time, Roman’s chest felt as if someone had just riveted a steel plate between his ribs.
Mario whisked Rachel away. Roman pressed his lips tightly together, for the first time wanting to shout his secrets to the world. He’d broken nearly every other regulation set down by his superiors. Why get