Free Fatal Beauty by Nazarea Andrews Page B

do something he said not to.” She holds up the
keys she snatched from Jacobs’ desk, and smirks. “And he’d never expect me to
steal his motherfucking car.”

 
    Chapter 15

 
    The trick, it turns out, is not getting past Jacobs’ security
team. They watch silently from the corners of the yard, but none of them will
do anything to stop them.
    The trick is Ziva .
    “She’s going to see us,” Charlie hisses.
    “Well, of course she is,” EJ snaps. That’s the point. That she sees
you.”
    It made sense, in her room. Ziva hated
them. And she would call Jacobs. More than anything, they needed to make sure
that didn’t happen. EJ was under no illusions about how angry Jacobs would be
when he found out what she’d—they’d—done.
    “We need her phone,” EJ says again, and Charlie sighs. Plasters a
fake smile on her face and says, too brightly, “I’m going to kill you for this
shit, EJ.”
    And then she bounces into the kitchen, chattering about her
sunglasses and wine. The table is untouched. Their lunch, the wine, the
sunglasses—even the corkscrew—are still exactly where they had left them, and Ziva is at the sink, peeling potatoes. She looks at
Charlie, pure loathing on her face while Charlie chatters and shoves her
sunglasses up and into her hair, pushing it away from her face.
    And so she doesn’t see EJ slip in the side kitchen door, through
the tiny, airless hall that the wait staff uses when Jacobs entertains. She
doesn’t see EJ at all, until it’s too late, and the gun is swinging down, butt first, and slams into her temple.
    Ziva shrieks, and Charlie
curses, jerking forward as the housekeeper thrashes around, attempting to stay
on her feet. She grabs the woman’s head and brings it down, quick and hard
against the counter.
    Ziva drops like a sack of
rocks, and they stare at her for a moment. Hot guilt turns her stomach, and
just for a second, EJ is afraid she’s going to be sick. But then she swallows,
and sees that Ziva is breathing, slow and heavy, a
bruise already blooming on her cheek, and some of the tension eases out of her.
    “Get the phone, EJ,” Charlie says quietly.
    It’s one of his burners. There’s a house line, of course, but his
line, the way they all used to contact Jacobs when he left the property or the
city, was this. She reaches down, snatching it from where Ziva has it wedged in the back pocket of her jeans.
    “Good,” Charlie says softly. “Now, let’s go.”
    It’s easy, after that. They grab their bags from the hallway, and
toss them into the trunk of the Nova. EJ slides behind the wheel as Charlie
slumps in the passenger seat. They can both feel the attention of the security
behind them, but neither acknowledge it. Neither of them even speak as EJ turns
the engine over and backs out.
    And then they’re gone, dust rising behind the car to obscure the
mansion. They drive in silence for a long time, adrenaline making Charlie
jittery while EJ taps her fingers impatiently against the steering wheel.
    “Where are we going?” Charlie asks, after maybe thirty minutes.
    “We need to find somewhere safe we can lay low for a while.” EJ
says. “Maybe stash the car for a few days. It’s stupid
obvious.”
    “Then why did we take it?”
    A savage smile turns EJ’s lips, and she glances at Charlie.
“Because it’s mine. Even if he were the type to go to the cops, he couldn’t
report the thing stolen because it’s been in my name for the past decade.”
    Charlie whistles. “You weren’t joking about your history with him
being complicated, were you?”
    EJ shrugs, and Charlie reaches for her bag. Her computer is
sitting inside. “I have a friend who lives near here. We can go there.”
    “Who is it?”
    A tiny smirk tilts her lips, “Paxton Blaincot .”  
    EJ gives her a quick searching look, but Charlie is scanning her
computer, and she makes a soft noise of success. “ Pax was a guy I went to school. He had a pretty epic thing for me. We stayed