High Stakes Escape

by Elizabeth Goddard

  He eyed them, knowing he probably wouldn’t fall asleep. “You go ahead. I need to make some calls. I’ll make those in the bathroom and try not to disturb you.”

  “You really need some rest. I’m worried about you, Ben.” Chasey shrugged out of her coat and rubbed her arms.

  He couldn’t think what to say in response, and instead just stared at her hazel eyes. She was so beautiful. She looked different from the woman he’d first met—now she was a redhead instead of a brunette—and she was just as striking. Just as lovely. She’d drawn his attention that first day when he’d been assigned to protect her while she’d waited for trial. Ben lived in a family of heroes—his older siblings and his parents—and he’d worked hard to live up to the family legacy. Doing his job and doing it right was important to him. He hadn’t meant to fall for her—a witness he was protecting—but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

  He knew he’d hurt her before. He’d hurt himself, too. A lump grew in his throat. Leaving her again after this was going to hurt even worse. But what other choice did he have? It wasn’t like he could just walk away—any more than he could just stop loving her.

  She shrugged, hurt flashing in her eyes at his lack of response. “Okay, well, please get some rest after you make your calls. I doubt I can sleep much, but you’re right that I need to be prepared for what comes next, and for me that’s seeing Brighton.”

  Chasey took a step toward him. “We are getting Brighton out, aren’t we? Bringing him with us?”

  And now came the hard part. He couldn’t answer her questions because he was still trying to figure that out.

  Lord, help me to know what’s best for Brighton.

  He took her hands in his and led her to the table, gesturing for her to sit while he took the other chair. “I brought you here, Chasey. You can look out the window and see the lights on Holly House. I know you needed this—needed to see him. As far as removing him from the facility where he’s safe... I’m not sure if that’s the best call. I thought I would have the answer by the time we got here, but there are still too many unanswered questions. I know you miss him, but moving him, taking him away from where he feels comfortable, would be traumatic for him—especially if we’re going to have to spend more time on the run.” Her brother was probably still adjusting, or maybe had only just now started feeling as if the place was home. How would he react to a situation as chaotic as theirs had been for the past couple days?

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Of course I don’t want to upset him or traumatize him—but I miss him. I no longer believe keeping us separated with different identities is for the best. I want us to get new identities and live together.”

  “Even if we do that, even if we resolve this current threat and I set you up living somewhere else, you know there’s a risk that he will inadvertently give you away. And remember the whole reason you decided it was best that you live apart was that if the two of you weren’t together, it would be more difficult for your uncle to track you—if he ever decided to do just that.”

  Chasey might not think that mattered right now, in the middle of these circumstances with her identity already discovered, but when she was settled into a new life, she’d once again have to live with the risk of it falling apart.

  The tears sliding down her cheeks nearly ripped him up inside. He lifted a thumb and wiped the salty moisture from her cheek. He could tell she struggled to speak. Chasey was strong. She had to be to have endured so much and still find the courage to stand against her criminal uncle. But how much more could she take while still saying so gentle, so vulnerable inside?

  How had she stayed so softhearted and tender?

  Was it any wonder he’d fallen in love with her?

  He took her hands in his again and spoke softly. “Let me think about it and talk to my boss. I promise, you get to make the final decision. But we want you to be fully informed before you make that choice. It’s one thing to talk about your life, Chasey, but Brighton is depending on you.”

  Brighton was depending on them both.

  * * *

  Chasey slipped her hands free from Ben’s strong, reassuring grip. She didn’t like what he’d had to say, but she knew that she couldn’t just ignore it. Not when he was only speaking out of a desire to keep her and her brother safe. She trusted him as much as anyone could be trusted. She was trusting him with her life. And as he’d said, Brighton was depending on her. So her trust in Ben included trusting him with Brighton’s life, as well.

  She nodded and looked away, and that seemed to satisfy Ben.

  He got up and stared at the cell phone, flicking the lights off on his way to the bathroom. “Try to get some rest, okay?” He slipped into the bathroom and shut the door. The light bled from underneath it.

  Chasey glanced at the fluffy pillows and inviting bed. She would get there eventually but first she moved to the window and peeked out into the cold night. Had they even gotten an actual autumn? It sure felt like winter was settling in early and with a vengeance.

  A couple of blocks away, she spotted the roof of Holly House—it wasn’t an actual house but more like a campus or compound of apartments that offered assisted living plus security. It was very secure, but also very isolated. In a way, she had sacrificed Brighton’s freedom for his safety. Was it more important to be free or to be safe? That was a call she hadn’t allowed Brighton to make for himself, which meant that the decision—like all other decisions about Brighton’s care and what was best for him—rested on her shoulders. Any mistake she made could be disastrous, for both her and her brother.

  Lord, why is any of this happening?

  She considered how things might have turned out differently if Brighton had been with her from the start. Would Ben have put her in the same region of the country, or in a different situation entirely? She still would have required help for Brighton, so perhaps she would have ended up in a more densely populated area with better public services to help him.

  But she would still have been found. And if Brighton had been there when the attacker had come to her house, he could have been hurt or killed.

  Ben was right—their next steps, the decisions she would make, could mean life or death for her brother. In addition, whatever move she made could have an impact on her future guardianship of Brighton. She sat on the edge of the bed, unable to sleep. Even though Ben was just in the bathroom, it still made her a little uneasy to have him a room away.

  Chasey heard his voice in the bathroom, then silence, as if he was listening. Then a few more words. She wished she could eavesdrop on the conversation because, of course, it had to be about her and this situation.

  She eyed the phone that rested on the desk. A regular, landline phone and not a cell. She could call Brighton. Her heart tripped inside, even as she reminded herself that it was approaching 4:00 a.m. While someone would answer the phone at the facility at any hour, she doubted they’d be willing to wake Brighton to make him come to the phone.

  Chasey heard a car door shut in the parking lot outside the window and glanced out. Below she saw two men heading toward the back door; one of them clearly held a pistol in his hand.

  The desk phone rang, startling her.

  Ben stepped into the room, the bathroom light casting his shadow across the floor.

  “Should we get it?” she asked.

  He took two steps forward and picked up the receiver. She could clearly hear Rolf’s voice on the other end, though she couldn’t catch what he had to say.

  “Thanks.” Ben hung up and rushed to the window to peer out. “We’ve got trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble? Is it Brighton?”

  “Someone found us.”

  “I saw two men entering the hotel just now. But how did they find us?”

  “That was always a risk. The guy in the Suburban must have contacted whoever he worked for and told them about t
he semi.” Ben pressed his hand against the gun in the holster he’d never taken off.

  The room seemed to close in around her. She didn’t know why now, but suddenly the sound of gunfire from the past accosted her, echoing around her as though it was happening here and now. Chasey covered her ears. She didn’t want to hear more of it. She squeezed her eyes shut but that couldn’t block the images from two years ago—her uncle shooting a man in his office in cold blood right before her eyes. She gasped for breath.

  God, help me breathe!

  Ben took her wrists and lowered her hands. She opened her eyes to peer at him.

  “Come away from the window.” He peered at her, concern in his gaze.

  “I...I had a flashback.”

  “That happen often?”

  “No, it’s never happened before. I don’t know why it happened now. I guess...I guess because we’re so close to Brighton. The pressure and the fear are getting to me. They found us again. Where can we go? What can we do?” She slumped onto the bed. “I’m so tired of running.”

  He crouched in front of her. “And this is exactly the moment when it’s most important that we not stop. Things usually get worse before they get better.”

  And then he smiled. Dimples cut into his cheeks. While she usually loved the sight, at this moment, it did nothing but frustrate her.

  “How can you smile at a time like this?”

  Oh, she wished she could pull the words back when the smile faded.

  “I’m sorry. I was only trying encourage you. To take the edge off.” He stood and moved away from her.

  Chasey instantly felt the absence of his warmth.

  Ben paced the room as if he struggled to know what they should do next, too, and that was never a good sign.

  “The only way they can find us is to harass the guy at the front desk. He never laid eyes on us, but he can say which room was just rented out,” he said. “Rolf is calling the police.”

  “But you don’t want anyone, including the police, to know we’re here.”

  “He isn’t telling them about us. He is going to tell the police that he spotted two suspicious and armed characters entering the hotel.”

  “So...we wait here?”

  “Maybe.” Ben headed to the window and peered out again. “They’re here.”

  “Who? The police?”

  “Yes.”

  “So can we relax now that they’re here?”

  “No. I don’t want us to be trapped here, either.”

  “Trapped?”

  The fire alarm blared.

  ELEVEN

  The sound ricocheted through Ben. It was definitely not what he wanted to hear. He held Chasey’s gaze and recognized the fear ramping up.

  “The fire alarm?” It was a question. Her tone was incredulous.

  “They must be trying to flush us out,” he said.

  “So is there a fire or not?” She started pacing the small room and her breaths quickened.

  “Calm down.” While I think.

  “Do not tell me to calm down, Ben. The fire alarm is blaring. We need to leave. We need to get out.”

  “There might not be a fire. Someone could have hit the alarm just as a pretext to get everyone out of their rooms.” It seemed likely, given that two armed men had entered the hotel. Yes, they could have started a fire. But would they have had enough time? They’d only just arrived a minute earlier.

  “What are we going to do?” She held her hands out, looking to him for answers.

  He peered out the window and spotted more police cruisers steering into the parking lot, lights flashing. Pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text message to the chief, updating him on the situation.

  Protecting Chasey—protecting his witness—was always his priority. The questions and doubts entered the equation when he had to figure out how to fulfill his mission under such circumstances. Doors in the hallway opened and closed. Voices echoed. All of the other guests were at least leaving their rooms, whether or not they were evacuating the building.

  Should he rush Chasey out into that crowd and hope to get lost in it? Or should they wait in this hotel room on the theory that there wasn’t truly a fire? If they waited and ended up being the last people to leave the hotel, they would more easily be spotted and potentially picked off. But waiting would mean that Chasey wasn’t exposed to possible gunfire until the last possible second. And by that time, emergency workers—firemen and more cops—would provide a protective wall between Chasey and the people who wanted her captured or killed.

  Once again, he glanced out the window that overlooked the side of the hotel. People were already rushing to their vehicles—some to get away from the chaos, others to simply keep warm. Which door could they exit if they needed to, and still be safe? Would their pursuers be watching the doors? Which ones?

  Rolf had only seen two men enter the hotel, but that didn’t mean more weren’t waiting and watching from the parking lot or other locations.

  “Ben?” Chasey’s voice broke through his orbiting thoughts.

  He turned to look at Chasey.

  “I smell smoke,” she said. “It’s more than someone pulling the fire alarm.”

  His eyes weren’t burning yet, but he knew the toxic gases in smoke could definitely kill them long before a fire. The men had taken things further than simply barging into the hotel to search for them, and setting the fire alarm off.

  These men—now they had at least two if not more after Chasey—were more determined than ever to get to her. But setting a fire in a hotel? How many lives were these people willing to risk just to capture Chasey? A truck’s honk drew Ben’s attention to the window. Across the lot, parked in the street that ran next to the hotel, was Rolf’s semi. The man had seen the chaos. He knew that Ben and Chasey needed a way out. Again.

  Rolf was in effect putting himself in the line of fire.

  Ben grabbed Chasey’s hand, pulling her from the window toward the door. His gun ready to fire, he peaked through the peephole and saw nothing. Then he slowly opened the door.

  Footsteps pounded down the hallway, along with the sounds of people knocking on doors and men announcing that the hotel was being evacuated. They turned a corner—two men dressed as firemen. Were they legit? Or had they incapacitated the real firemen? Ben’s gut soured.

  Two men carrying guns.

  Nope. Not firemen at all.

  Ben eased the door shut, putting the security latch in place. “Get over in the corner by the bed.” He gestured where she should hide.

  Chasey moved quickly. “We could go out the sliding-glass door to the balcony and climb over and hang down. It wouldn’t be that far of a jump.”

  “Yes, it would. Even if we could do it without getting hurt, we’d be too exposed. There could be other men waiting for us down in the parking lot or on the street.” He lifted his fingers to his lips.

  The pounding on doors and voices grew louder as the men approached.

  They were at the next room. So far, they hadn’t kicked down any doors or shot any hotel guests, though they’d kept up the pretense of knocking on every door. Was that because they genuinely didn’t know which room Ben and Chasey were in—or because they wanted them to let their guards down?

  He backed away from the door and ducked against the wall, holding his gun at the ready.

  He inhaled slowly, counted to four, then held his breath for another count of four.

  Exhaled... One, two, three.

  The pounding came at their door. Ben would keep quiet. Maybe they really didn’t know what room the two of them were in. Even if they knew, Ben had bolted the door.

  The telltale click sounded and the door partially opened before the security latch stopped it.

  Ah. Now they knew that someone was inside the room. But did they know it was Ben and Chasey?


  “Please evacuate. There’s a fire in the hotel.”

  Ben braced himself for what would come next.

  Hotels had a tool for unlocking the security latch in case someone was unconscious or unable to reach the door for some reason—such as an untimely death. And, of course, there was always the possibility that they’d kick in the door, breaking the latch. If the men were determined to get in, they’d find a way. He glanced back at Chasey, and her big eyes stared at him.

  Fear poured from her gaze as she slowly nodded, but he saw something more behind that look. She trusted him. They were in this together. She had no idea how much that trust, that confidence in his ability—no matter if it was misplaced—bolstered his resolve.

  This was his job. He didn’t have time for the many doubts that had accosted him. In this moment, he just had to trust his training and act.

  The door burst open.

  * * *

  Chasey failed to stifle her scream. But she successfully resisted the physiological reflex to squeeze her eyes shut and wait for the danger to pass.

  From the corner where she was crouched, she saw a gun slide into view, connected to an outstretched arm. Ben immediately disarmed the man, and landed several punches. Gunshots erupted from out in the hallway.

  Ben stood still and stared out.

  Oh no! Had he been shot?

  No, his shoulders relaxed and he turned to face her. “Wait here.”

  “What’s going on? Ben?” She rose and stepped to peer out from behind the open door.

  Ben stood in the hallway, speaking to a police officer. He revealed his credentials. The “fireman” was being handcuffed.

  Ben came back into their room and stood over the other unconscious “fireman.” Then he moved to stand next to her between the bed and the wall as another officer entered the small space. The new arrival rolled the man posing as a fireman onto his stomach as he started waking up, cuffed him, then pulled him to his feet.

  “Wait here,” the officer said. “Someone will be in to get your statement.”