A/N: Greetings!
I hope you all enjoy chapter 7!
Rachel held up a key she had found under a dried fern in a clay pot. Quinn took it and ordered her to stay put while she checked the house. Rachel reached for her gun and followed the ex-agent through the narrow door. It didn't take long to establish that the cabin didn't hold any surprises. There were only two sections, a living room with a small kitchenette and a small bedroom with an even smaller bathroom.
Except for some dust and a cobweb or two, the inside of the cabin appeared neat and well cared for. The furnishings were serviceable rather than fashionable, but with homey touches like dried flower arrangements. A stone fireplace took up one entire end of the living room area.
"Not bad," said Quinn, after checking the kitchen cupboards. "It's stocked with nonperishables."
Rachel headed to the bedroom. "I hope the owners left some clothes here." She opened the closet and found a collection of outerwear that wasn't of much use, but the canvas tennis shoes thrilled her. Her feet hurt.
The dresser drawers offered a change of clothing. "Looks like this place belongs to a married couple. There's a mix of clothing," she told Quinn as she entered the bedroom.
"What sizes?" Quinn asked.
Rachel looked at the tags. "Large men's that aren't much use and medium women's. We should be okay. I think our absent hostess might be a little heavier than we are, but not so much that we can't borrow a few things."
Quinn nodded. "It might not hurt to add a little padding around our waists. Any disguise will help."
The brunette agreed. The elastic on the sweatpants would stretch for extra cushioning. "I think we should shower, eat, and head out again," she said. "If we can get a ride to town, we can pick up money at the post office, pay for some transportation, and be miles away from here before Max spreads out his search."
Quinn's brow furrowed a little. "You don't think it would be safer to hole up here overnight and head to town tomorrow?"
Rachel thought about spending another night like the last, trying to sleep, yet too achingly aware of her roommate. It wouldn't be wise to invite more intimacy. Besides, neither of them would rest knowing Max might find them at any minute.
Then there was the electronic bug buried under her skin. Her teeth clenched in anger at the thought. She wanted it out as soon as possible. "It'll be a risk to leave, but more of a risk to stay. If you found this cabin, there's a chance Finn's men will, too. I would rather take our chances in town. We can appeal to the local sheriff, if necessary," the brunette explained, hoping Quinn wouldn't argue.
The taller woman just nodded in understanding. "Okay. I'll get the generator running and then get that gun off your neck."
Rachel touched her nape. The gun felt cold and heavy against her tender skin. "What can we do?"
"If I cut off the bulk of the holster, the gun can be replaced with a butter knife. It won't be pretty, but it shouldn't attract attention," Quinn suggested.
"Chokers are all the rage," Rachel muttered grimly, "but I don't know about knife blades." Then another idea had her heading back to the kitchen area. "We'll have to leave a big tip for our hosts." The brunette snatched a little notepad from the refrigerator. "This is magnetic. A magnet would really scramble the signal, wouldn't it?"
"Good idea," agreed Quinn as she followed her. "We should try to pay for what we take, but all my cash is on the boat. How about you?"
The blonde's gaze slid down Rachel's body to the junction of her thighs, making her pulse leap and her flesh tingle. She shifted her legs and responded gruffly. "Always. I told you I never travel without cash."
"How much?" Quinn's voice had dropped and taken on a husky tone. Her gaze returned to the brunette's face. They stared at each other for a few tense minutes and then made a concerted effort to shake off the sensual tension caused by the taller woman's intimate perusal.
Rachel cleared her throat. "A few hundred. Enough for a couple of days' food and lodging."
"So we don't need what you mailed to yourself in Somerset?" Quinn asked.
She shrugged. "It all depends on how long we have to keep running. My stash won't stretch for transportation."
"How much did you leave in Somerset?"
"Several thousand, plus another phony ID," she replied.
Quinn sighed. "Okay, I guess we go there next."
Dusk had fallen by the time they had showered, changed into the borrowed clothing, and eaten a cold, canned meal. Rachel had rinsed the lake water from her bikini but wore the swimsuit under the sweats. She didn't want to be without her special storage pouch, and her hostess' bras were too big.
She had kept her back to the brick fireplace while Quinn redesigned her leather necklace. It was far from attractive, yet not awful enough to draw unwanted attention. By the time they left the cabin, they looked like an average pair of girls in slightly creased casual wear and running shoes.
The trek through the woods was slow going – progress was made a few cautious yards at a time. Once they reached the main road, they hailed a teenager in a battered pickup truck. He worked at the marina, but his shift had ended, so he happily accepted twenty dollars to drive them to Somerset.
Rachel spent the ride squeezed between the two of them. The truck's gearshift was on the floor, so she had to lean against Quinn to avoid bumping it with her leg. The blonde slid an arm across the back of the seat to give her room, but that made her feel more trapped. Every curve of the winding road had her pressing into the other woman, and the feel of Quinn's body kept hers singing with excitement.
They reached the southern edge of town shortly before eleven. Quinn helped her from the truck, but Rachel quickly withdrew her hand from her grasp. They thanked their new friend and bade him farewell, and then Quinn reached for her again.
"We'd better keep our hands free for weapons," Rachel insisted, pulling from Quinn's grip again.
A lift of the blonde's brow questioned her response and the evasive action but graciously said nothing. They had swapped guns, wrapped them in towels, and secured them around their waists. The sweats didn't have pockets, but the belly pouches gave them a place to hide the weapons while adding a few inches to their waistlines. Quinn didn't argue. She just placed her left hand to the back of Rachel's waist and guided her into the shadows.
"I've heard of rolling up the sidewalks at dark, but I think this town really does it," Rachel remarked.
"It is a work night for most people," Quinn added, leading her toward the post office. The occasional streetlight helped illuminate their path, yet left enough shadowy corners to make them wary.
"We'd better not go into the post office together," Rachel said as they drew closer to their destination.
Quinn agreed. "I'll circle around back and come up the alley on the other side."
Rachel watched her disappear, her stomach sinking in an indescribable fashion. She shook her head in amazement. When and how had she let herself get so attached to the other woman? It was stupid to feel bereft without the blonde by her side.
Surveying the street, she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, so she made her way to the end of the block. The post office lobby was empty. She collected her package and then returned the key through the drop slot. Tucking the envelope into her makeshift belly pack, she headed outside again.
After another quick glance up and down the street, she turned toward the shadowed alley. Suddenly, all the fine hairs on her arms and neck started tingling. Rachel tensed, deciding someone aside from Quinn was causing her alarm.
She didn't react fast enough. A giant arm slammed her body against an equally solid chest. She felt the barrel of a gun pressing against her neck and immediately recognized her captor's voice.
"Well, well, sweet Jessica. Nice to see you again."
Rachel's heart rammed against her ribs, and sweat dampened her skin. She went perfectly still, barely able to breathe as Max's arm tightened around her arms and chest. He held her in a bruising grip – evidence that he was furious with her. She had made a fool of him, and men in his position didn't take that lightly.
Despite his size, he moved with the speed and agility of a martial arts expert. She had seen him work out in the gym and knew he wouldn't be easily overpowered or outmaneuvered.
"Where's lover girl, Sam?" He slowly nudged her forward, and she saw a dark vehicle parked a few yards down the alley.
"We decided to split up," she said evenly.
Max tsked. "Mr. Hudson will be sorry to hear that. He was hopin' to have you both back home real soon," he said menacingly.
An involuntary shiver raced through her at the thought. Max must have felt it, and he gave a bark of laughter. "You got that right, honey. You best be shakin' in your shoes. Mr. Hudson's real upset."
Rachel briefly wondered if Finn had been arrested. It should have happened today, but they had had no way to call and check. It didn't seem likely, with Max still on the loose.
What could possibly have gone wrong? As far as she knew, Max was to be arrested along with several other members of Finn's staff.
They reached the car, a small Jeep, and he shoved her against the back door on the passenger side. He pressed himself against her in a deliberate attempt to humiliate. His laughter had a lewd edge as he breathed heavily in her ear.
"I sure hope the boss lets me have a go at you, little slut," he said, thrusting his hips against her and grinding them in a disgusting attempt to demean her. "I always thought it was a waste to keep you in that big house with nobody gettin' any of this sweet body."
Another shudder of revulsion coursed through her. The touch of his body sickened her, but she forced herself not to panic. Max would never disobey orders, and she was relatively sure Finn hadn't given him permission to manhandle her.
At least, not yet.
Where the hell was Quinn? Would she be coming to her rescue? She could be trusted, Rachel sincerely believed that, but she wasn't used to depending on anyone. What if Quinn had been jumped by another of Finn's men?
"Open the door," Max ordered. He eased his grip on her enough to allow her to reach the handle. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of metal connecting with bone. Max grunted, his grip went slack, and she felt him falling to the ground.
"You okay?" Quinn asked as she lowered her gun.
Rachel was trembling from head to foot and leaned against the car for support. In the next instant, Quinn's arms were pulling her close. Rachel didn't resist the offer of comfort. She slid her hands around the blonde's waist and clung, feeling relieved, yet guilty for having doubted her again.
"Did he hurt you?" Quinn's tone sounded low and gruff in her ear.
She shivered again, but with a whole different emotion. Relief surged through her, accompanied by a needy, hopeful feeling that alarmed her. She eased from the taller woman's embrace.
"I'm okay," she insisted, shaking off the momentary weakness. "It sounded like you cracked his skull."
Quinn shook her head. "Not that hard head. He'll be awake and fighting mad in a few minutes. Let's get him tied up."
"With what?" Rachel asked.
"Check the car," she instructed.
While Rachel searched the car, Quinn searched Max's pockets. She found the car keys, a cell phone, and the electronic tracking device Max had used to locate Rachel.
"Nothing in the car," the brunette informed.
The blonde looked around and stopped on Max's feet. "He's wearing high-top boots. We'll use his bootlaces."
They each grabbed a foot and began unlacing Max's boots. Then they rolled him onto his stomach, tied his hands behind his back, and secured his feet. Max groaned, prompting Quinn to check his head and his breathing.
"He's not bleeding. He has a goose egg, and his breathing is fine. He'll live."
Rachel was at a loss for what to do with him. "What now? Leave him here? Take him to the police? The emergency room?"
"Help me roll him to the side of the alley so he won't get run over," Quinn said. They half lifted, half dragged the big man off the concrete. "We'll leave him and put some distance between us before we call the authorities. Then they can deal with him."
"Maybe there's a warrant out for his arrest," added Rachel. "If Finn has been arrested, there should be warrants out for Max and Karofsky, too."
They moved back to the car. Quinn automatically headed for the driver's side, so Rachel climbed into the passenger seat.
"Do you think it's safe to take his car? It could be bugged," Rachel said.
"It has rental tags," Quinn reassured her as the engine roared to life. "They wouldn't have had a reason to bug it."
"Probably not," she agreed. She pulled her seatbelt into place. "But Karofsky and the others can recognize it, so we will have to find something else."
"Later," the blonde insisted. "The first thing we have to do is find a hospital and get that metal out of your neck. I've got Max's tracking device, but there could be others."
"There's a regional hospital near here," Rachel said. "As anxious as I am to have this thing removed, I'd feel more comfortable if we headed north a while before we stop."
Quinn glanced toward her, and then back to the road. "You're sure?"
The brunette nodded. "I'm sure I don't want any more confrontations tonight."
The brief brush with Max had made her physically ill. She had never expected such a violent physical and emotional reaction. It still had her shaken, and that scared her senseless.
How could she bear to go back and face them? Even for a trial? Rachel loathed everything and everyone associated with Finn Hudson. The loathing had deepened over the past few months. It wasn't until she had been free of it that she had realized how profoundly the assignment has traumatized her.
"Lexington is a couple of hours north," said Quinn, glancing at her again. "You sure you're okay?"
Rachel sensed her concern but couldn't begin to explain her emotional turmoil. Hugging herself to ward off the deep-seated chill, she answered in what she hoped was a convincing tone. "I'm fine."
"Are you cold?"
"A little," she admitted.
Quinn turned on the heat even though the temperature in the Jeep was plenty warm. The small, sensitive action made Rachel feel weepy and confused. She blinked back tears and stared out the windshield as they left the lights of town behind them.
Darkness settled around them as they hit the open highway. Her thoughts churned along with the echo of tires on the road. Memories of the months spent in Finn's home kept whirring through her mind like a movie reel, making her more and more agitated.
She had taken on a phony identity for a noble cause. But no matter how she tried to rationalize her actions, she still felt cheapened by all the pretense and deceit. She had become someone she neither knew nor liked. Somewhere along the path to justice, she'd lost herself, and it scared the hell out of her.
Despite the warmth of the car, she could quell neither the chills coursing through her nor the sick rolling in her stomach. Each passing mile brought a more frantic need to run and hide. Not just from Finn, but from life and all the emotional upheaval that went with it.
She had known going into the assignment that the risks amounted to a lot more than physical danger. She had been repeatedly lectured by Leroy and warned by the psychologists. She had read all the data and known what to expect.
So why didn't any of it comfort her now? Why were her hands as cold as ice? Why couldn't she steady the shaky, queasy feeling of shock?
They had been traveling for less than an hour when Quinn slowed the car, pulled to the side of the road, and shut off the engine. The unexpected action jarred Rachel out of her silent misery. She glanced around them, seeing nothing but shadows beyond the highway, and then she turned to stare at Quinn.
The blonde took a deep breath, her chest expanding and then relaxing. Next, she unclipped her seatbelt and Rachel's, reaching to gather the brunette into her arms. The instant Rachel realized Quinn was offering comfort, she launched herself at the other woman. Wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde's neck, Rachel clung to her as though her next breath depended on the contact.
Quinn's arms tightened in response. She pulled the brunette across her lap as Rachel pressed closer, burying her face in the curve of Quinn's shoulder. The taller woman felt strong and wonderfully solid, her sweatshirt damp from the excessive heat in the car. Quinn had sacrificed her own comfort to try to soothe her, and that made Rachel feel even more pathetic.
Quinn hugged her tightly, her warmth permeating deep into Rachel's bones, chasing away the coldness. A sob clawed at her throat, and a tremor shook her as she battled her personal demons.
"I'm sorry," Quinn said softly, burrowing her face against Rachel's hair. "I should have gotten to you sooner. I wanted to make sure none of the others were near, but I shouldn't have let Max touch you."
Rachel shook her head in denial. "It's not just Max," she said, although his repulsive treatment had triggered her reactions. "It's the whole dirty business."
"Yeah, I know."
Quinn's low, soothing tone seeped into her ear and her heart. She realized that the blonde really did understand.
"It's okay," Quinn added, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You're just crashing a little. Don't be scared."
Rachel knew the other woman had experienced similar situations. Still, she tried to explain. "For a little while, on the boat," she whispered roughly, "I felt so clean and normal."
"I know," Quinn murmured.
Suddenly, she needed to let it all out, to get the terrible secrets off her mind. "I loved the power and adrenaline of living the lie, but I hate myself for feeling anything but disgust. I want Finn punished, yet I wonder if I'm any better than him with all the lies and deceit."
"There's no doubt about that," the blonde assured her, gentling stroking her back. "Bringing him down means avenging a lot of people and saving a lot more."
"I know. I keep telling myself that, over and over again," Rachel whispered. "I know what I did was important, personally and professionally. It just makes me sick. All of it. The games, the deception, the running and hiding. I just want it to be done."
Quinn nuzzled her neck, still speaking quietly and calmly in her ear. "The psychologists warned you, didn't they?"
Rachel nodded, rubbing her head against Quinn's, soothed by the contact. "I know all the psychological explanations. It's just harder to deal with the reality of it."
"Yeah," the blonde gruffly agreed. "It's harder. Especially as deeply as you infiltrated."
Rachel felt the increased tension in the other woman's body and hugged her even harder. She stopped wallowing in self-pity long enough to wonder what Quinn felt and thought about her assignment. She had let the blonde believe she had slept with a murderer and thief.
A heavy dose of guilt assailed her. Quinn had done nothing but help and protect her, yet she had constantly doubted her and her motive. Rachel had deceived her by letting her believe a lie, and Rachel had used that lie to protect her own cowardly fear of involvement. It was past time to level with the ex-agent and risk a deeper involvement.
"I was inside the operation but not as deeply as you think," Rachel confessed in a small voice. "Finn and I were never lovers."
Quinn stiffened and then eased the brunette away until they could see each other. Moonlight bathed Quinn's taut features.
"Explain," she said shortly.
Rachel flattened her hands on Quinn's chest and dropped her gaze from the intensity of the taller woman's. "Finn's main interest in me was social status. I made it clear from the beginning that I wouldn't have sex until after we were married. He agreed and kept his end of the bargain."
"He just wanted a pretense of normalcy?" the blonde asked, sounding incredulous.
"Yes." Rachel dared a glance at her, but Quinn looked even more fierce.
"So you didn't actually prostitute yourself for the assignment?" Quinn growled, sliding the brunette off her lap and putting some space between them.
Her words stung, and Rachel's breathing stilled. Her next words were hard to get past the dryness in her throat. "That's what you think of me? That I'm some kind of whore who would use my body to gather evidence?"
"You tell me what to think," Quinn retorted.
Rachel felt a small surge of anger, but it was quickly squelched. Sadness and regret followed. As much as she wanted Quinn's unconditional respect, Rachel couldn't blame her for thinking the worst. She had encouraged everyone to believe it.
"Finn and I had a pact. He wanted a society wife, and I pretended to be penniless. That gained me entrance to his estate."
Quinn's gaze never wavered. She stared at the brunette with unblinking intensity. "You're saying you never slept with him?"
"Never." The thought nauseated her. "He has a mistress. She's just not suitable wife material."
"Damn!"
Quinn's curse echoed loud and long as she continued to glare at the shorter woman. She could almost feel the blonde struggling with the truth. A myriad of expressions crossed her beautiful features – first shock and disbelief, then relief, and then renewed anger.
"We've been living in each other's pockets for the past few days, and you knew it bugged the hell out of me," Quinn growled. "Why didn't you tell me the truth?"
Quinn rubbed her temples and stared out the windshield. Rachel held her breath, wondering if she had completely alienated her with her honesty. When moments passed without any comment, she settled back into her seat and fastened the seatbelt.
Quinn fastened her seatbelt and reached for Max's cell phone. She handed it to Rachel before starting the Jeep and pulling back onto the highway. The blonde's attitude didn't invite further confidences.
"Better call directory assistance and get the number for the Somerset police," she said. "Tell them where to find Max and that there might be a warrant for his arrest."
Rachel nodded. "What if he tells them we attacked him and stole the car? They might put out a warrant for us."
"He can't risk involving more law enforcement agencies. His only recourse right now is silence," Quinn explained.
Rachel got the number and called the police department. She identified herself as FBI Agent Barbra Berry and gave them her shield number. Then she explained her belief that a wanted criminal could be located in the alley near the post office. She added a warning that Max was extremely dangerous and might have cohorts in the area.
"Done," Rachel said as she clicked off the connection."
"Did he sound podunk or professional?"
"He sounded skeptical but intelligent and willing to follow through," the brunette replied.
Next, she dialed Berry's private number. He answered after the first ring.
"What the hell took you so long to call?"
His impatience brought a smile to Rachel's lips. "We've been a little busy." She briefly outlined their escape from the boat, the electronic bug, and the run-in with Max.
"He's still tied up in the alley?"
"I just reported him to the Somerset Police Department. You might want to call them and corroborate my story. There is a warrant for his arrest, isn't there?"
"Damn straight. And we have Hudson behind bars." His tone held deep satisfaction. "He's been denied bail, at least for right now. I'm hoping the bulk of evidence will prevent any judge from releasing him, but you can bet his lawyers are working overtime to get him freed."
"Yes!" she shouted, feeling a rush of triumph. She turned to Quinn and repeated the good news. "He's behind bars and denied bail!" Of Berry, she asked, "You found the videotapes?"
"All of them, plus a few more stashed in the hidden safe you told me about. The evidence is damning and indisputable."
"You're being especially careful?" she asked.
"I swear on my life. He's not gonna slip through any legal loopholes. We've got him, and he's gonna pay, thanks to you."
"No." Rachel shook her head, thinking about her father and all the others who'd lost their lives. "Not just me. So many people gave so much. They all deserve credit."
"Where are you now?"
She glanced at Quinn, wondering how much to say over the phone. "I'm not on a secure phone. We took this one from Max, so I'd better leave details 'til later. When do you need me in D.C.?"
"We'll need depositions as soon as possible. You know the drill. I'd like to get started Monday. Make your way back to the summer place this weekend, and we'll take it from there."
"Okay. I'll see you soon."
"Stay safe," Berry insisted, and then broke the connection.
Rachel closed the phone and set it on the seat between her and Quinn. She briefly repeated the conversation to her even though Quinn had heard her end of it.
"Where's the summer place?" Quinn asked after Rachel was finished.
"He has a cabin about an hour from D.C." she explained.
"You've been there?"
She shot a glance at the blonde. Her expression hadn't softened, and she sounded disgusted again. "I know how to get there." Her answer might not satisfy Quinn, but she didn't want to deal with any more issues tonight.
Realizing she had gotten really warm, Rachel shut off the heater. "You can open a window if you want. I'm fine now."
"You're sure?" Quinn asked.
"I'm sure." Rachel tugged at the strap around her throat. "I'm hot now, and this stupid collar is starting to strangle me. Where are we, anyway?"
Rachel desperately wanted to believe they could outrun Finn's lethal pursuit and make it to somewhere, anywhere safe.
A/N: So many developments! I wonder if they are truly as safe as they seem, even with Hudson behind bars...I guess we'll see! Until next time! Bye!