Free Evidence of Passion by Cynthia Eden

or another, I’m getting out of here! I won’t stand trial again—I’m getting out. ”
    “No,” Dylan flatly told him, “you’re not. You won’t be free anytime soon.”
    Chris screamed and ran forward again. Never taking his eyes off Rachel, Dylan struck out with his right hand. When Chris hit the floor, he was out cold. “Now let’s get out of here,” Dylan said. He headed for the door. The guard appeared because he’d never gone far, not really.
    “It was all recorded?” Rachel asked because she had to be sure. After what Chris had done, she wanted him to pay for Patterson’s death. Just as Jack would pay.
    The guard nodded.
    Rachel glanced back at Chris. The guy wasn’t moving. She hoped Chris got used to being locked up because he wouldn’t be a free man again.
    * * *
    T HE SUNLIGHT BEAT DOWN on Dylan as they left the military holding facility. They’d cleared all the guard checkpoints and already phoned in their intel to the EOD.
    He opened the door for Rachel, and she slid inside the car. His ride this time, not Thomas’s. A vehicle that came courtesy of the EOD. A tracking device was included with the car so that the other EOD agents could always locate the vehicle.
    In an organization like the EOD, you could never be too careful.
    His hand went to the ignition, but then Dylan paused. He shot a fast glance at Rachel. “Are you going to say anything?”
    She blinked at him. The sunlight streamed through the window, making her skin appear so golden. Rachel was Italian, part of a big, brimming family. A family that thought she worked as a pencil pusher for Uncle Sam. They had no idea what Rachel really did for a living. If they knew, he was sure they’d be terrified.
    Dylan didn’t have to worry about his own family being terrified. He had no family. His folks had passed when he was nineteen and, unlike Rachel, he didn’t have any brothers or sisters.
    Actually...Rachel was the only family he had. The thought slipped through his mind. I’m not alone because I have Rachel.
    “I was certain you’d get the intel from him,” she said with a shrug. “You’re good at your job.”
    Dylan grunted and still didn’t start the vehicle. “I’m not talking about the interrogation. I’m talking about what went down with Mercer earlier.” They’d left the EOD without discussing that little meeting, and he wasn’t going to hold off any longer. They needed to clear the air.
    She held his gaze. “I don’t...” Her words trailed away and she hesitated before saying, “You know I don’t like the plan. And I think Mercer and Noelle are wrong. Jack doesn’t have an attachment to me. He just wants me dead.”
    “If that were the case...” The words were brutal, but they had to be said. “Then why aren’t you in the ground?” Don’t think of her that way. Don’t.
    She flinched. “Start the car, Dylan.”
    He didn’t. “Noelle knows her killers. That’s the point of her being a profiler, right?” Dylan pressed. “She says that he has a connection to you. I believe her. We need to use that connection.”
    “What they want to use is you, not me . They want to dangle you in front of Jack like—like you’re a red flag hanging in front of a bull.”
    “So what? I’ve been used on missions before. I’m an agent. That’s just part of my job.” Risk. Danger. The adrenaline rush. It was his nine-to-five routine. More like my 24/7 routine.
    “They want him to think that we’re lovers.” Now her voice was hushed and her eyes were troubled. “They want you to pretend to be involved with me.”
    He had to handle this carefully. “It’s not exactly a hardship to do that.”
    Her lips parted.
    “I’ve done jobs much worse.”
    And he’d just said the wrong thing. So much for being careful. Dylan knew he’d bungled when her eyes narrowed to chips of blue fire.
    “Oh, so glad that I don’t fall into the category of worse for you,” Rachel snapped. “I mean, I’d hate for the idea of