Chapter 4

"You have to go to Austin."

Amanda, barely covered in a bath towel, shakes her head. She's lying on her bed, curled up into a ball, her face hidden under wet hair. I sit beside her and brush my fingers against her cheek, pushing her hair back so I can see one closed eye, still red and puffy from tears.

"I've already called Lana. She's happy to take you in for a while."

"I can't believe this is happening," Amanda moans. "Janelle tried to warn everyone, but I was asleep."

"I know."

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I know."

She shivers. "I can't believe they let me go!"

If only she knew...

Amanda rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling for a moment, then her eyes slowly drift to me. "Thank God they didn't come after you! I've never been so happy you didn't do what I wanted you to do in my life!" She sits up and throws her arms around me, holding me so tight I struggle to breathe for a moment. I return the gesture, sliding my arms around her, too.

Amanda is my family. She's more than a friend, more than this girl who ran away from a foster home with me seven years ago. She's my sister. I'd do anything for her.

Even become an informant for the FBI.

"Listen to me, Amanda," I say, pushing her back so that she has to look me in the eye. "You have to go to Austin. You have to get out of here until all this cool's off."

She nods. "Okay."

"I need you to be safe."

She nods again, but then her expression changes, tightens. "What about you? What if they come after you?"

"They won't. They're more interested in Janelle and the others."

Amanda nods a third time, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I got you involved in all this!"

"Don't worry about me. Go to Austin. Be safe."

It takes some more conversation and a few hours of packing and repacking, but I finally convince her to go. I stand and watch her board the bus, watching as it drives away. The cold fingers of fear that have been gripping my heart since I walked out of the daycare center loosen just slightly as I see the bus turn onto the street and head toward the interstate.

I turn and head for the parking lot, pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. "Okay," I say when the call is answered on the other end, "I'm ready."

***

Jake looks over the paperwork he just had me sign, official documents that call me an informant and outlines the things the FBI expects me to do. Information. They want me to get close to a man and snoop around his house, looking for particular items that can be stolen or pictures taken of in order to use against the Steele family at a later date. They want me to pay attention to conversations, note the names of people who come to visit, basically notice everything that happens in this man's home and report it back. In return, they promise not to charge Amanda or myself with any crimes related to the raid on Janelle's. However, if I fail to keep up my end of the bargain, not only will they pursue charges on Amanda, they'll come after me on charges of criminal interference with an investigation, which Jake assures me comes with at least a five-year prison sentence.

"Now what?"

Jake sets a cell phone on the table between us. "Call him."

I blush. "Right now? In front of you?"

"Do you have something to hide?"

The heat increases on my face, but I just shake my head. "No." I pick up the phone and touch the screen, not surprised to see it come to life under my fingertips. He doesn't have to tell me that this guy's number is already in the contacts right next to a number listed under the name JT--obviously Jake Travis. I take a deep breath, remembering intense green eyes and a body that belongs on the silver screen, my heartbeat increasing just a little despite the fear that still has a grip on it.

"Who is this?" a deep, almost angry voice demands when my call is picked up.

"Ummm..." I glance at Jake and he gestures for me to talk. "This is Abby," I say, using the shortened version of my name Janelle had insisted I use with clients. "Janelle said you've been trying to reach me?"

"Oh." This a pause and the sound of a door closing on his side of the connection. "It's been weeks. Why didn't you call sooner?"

"Sorry," I say, turning away from Jake so I don't have to watch the expectation in his eyes. "I don't really work for Janelle anymore."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I guess I wasn't comfortable working with so many strange men all the time."

Jake makes a sound, but I ignore him. At the same time, the man on the other end of the line--Maverick--hesitates. I can almost hear the wheel's turning in his head.

"Sure," he finally says. "I get that." He clears his throat, a sound that almost implies nervousness. "But you're calling, so..."

"Yeah. I remembered you. You were nice to me."

"Yeah."

It's an awkward conversation, one that feels as though it could go very wrong, or really right. I close my eyes, hoping I haven't made a mistake, imagining Amanda on the other side of the two-way mirror again, facing prison once more. My hand is shaking and my breathing is a little labored, almost like I've just gone for an extreme run. I bite my lip, the sharp pain enough to calm me just enough.

"Listen," he says, "I still can't sleep. That one night...you really helped me. Would you consider doing it again? I mean...I could pay you."

"You don't have to. I liked helping you."

"You did?"

"I did."

"Well...I would insist. I just need to sleep, you know? My friend used to...but she doesn't anymore. I just need a little help."

"Okay."

"Good." He clears his throat again. "Meet me tonight at the same hotel. I'll leave a key for you downstairs."

"Okay. I'll--"

He disconnected the call before I could finish what I was saying.

"Well?" Jake demands.

"He wants to meet me tonight."

"Hot damn!" Jake slaps his hand on the table and laughs like this is the best news he's ever heard. "That's our way in!"

I shrug. "My way in. I don't see you putting yourself at risk."

His eyebrows rise. "We're not asking you to do anything you weren't willing to do on your own."

The blush returns and pisses me off. I jump to my feet, clutching that cell phone in my hands. "I did it once, and didn't go back."

"But you were willing to do it that one time." Jake gets up and moves behind me, running his hands over my upper arms like he's my friend or something, not the cop forcing me into a potentially violent situation. "You're doing this to save your friend."

"I'm doing this because you're forcing me to." I pull away from him, spinning on my heel to face him. "I feel more like a whore now than I did when it was my choice."

Jake lowers his head slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that. But you have to understand that this family is at the root of every criminal act that happens in this state. They run guns, they sell drugs, and they likely have their thumb in every escort service in the state. Hell, I'm shocked Janelle managed to stay out from under their reach all this time, but she won't for much longer. And once the Steele family gets involved, your friend will never get out from under them. She will never be able to quit, she'll never be allowed to flee the city and go stay with...what is her name? Lola?" He tilts his head slightly. "Lana?"

My heart sinks. I can see by the wicked amusement that comes into his eyes that he's playing with me. He knows everything and nothing I can do will keep Amanda safe unless I follow his instructions. I'm stuck, and there's nothing I can do about it.

He comes to me and pats my cheek, his thumb coming to rest on my bottom lip. "Just do whatever it is you did the last time, sweetheart. Keep him happy and coming back for more. That's all we need."

"We're meeting in a hotel. How is that what you need?"

"You let me worry about the logistics, honey. You worry about the tight, sexy number you're going to wear to meet him in."

I want to tell him to go fuck himself. Instead, I just lower my head and nod.

What choice do I have?