All the Way

by Kristi Avalon

  They walked through the flatter areas of the playground, working their way across the obstacle course of equipment as she worked her way around the choices and pitfalls of her past with Jack.

  “He seemed like everything I’d never known. His life went smooth as clockwork. Came into the diner at the same time every day. Always had a good joke or a cheesy new pickup line that made me laugh. He had a secure job with reliable hours. Knew all the customers at the counter by name. Asked about their lives. Asked me about mine. He really paid attention to what people said, had this empathetic way about him. And he could remember the smallest detail of a conversation. Seemed like an all around steady, dependable guy. Then, the better I got to know him, I began to see the shadows…”

  “What do you mean?” Blake asked as she wove in and out of the plastic rings that dangled in a row from the wooden beam above the boardwalk she traveled. Meanwhile, Blake walked steadily on the pebbles beside the path Layla took over the maze of obstacles, his steps solid, consistent, matched to her pace. “What shadows?”

  She ducked into a short tunnel and her voice sounded far away as she explained. “You know on a sunny day when a huge cloud suddenly passes over, the sunlight gets snatched away, and things go dim? That’s what I saw sometimes when Jack thought no one was looking. Shadows passed over his eyes, and I glimpsed some deep, dark sadness, a secret loneliness inside him. Then the moment disappeared and he’d grin again. But it was the shadows that drew me to him. The darkness brightens a little when someone looks at you and just knows . It means so much to be understood. Because I get those shadows, too.”

  “I know,” Blake said quietly, cramming his hands deep in his pockets. He’d seen in her eyes exactly what she’d described. Maybe she’d wanted to sweep away the moments of darkness for Jack the way Blake had wanted to do for Layla. He supposed he could understand her connection to him. He didn’t have to like it.

  But he listened. The description of her initial draw that deteriorated into suspicion about Jack was like a hash mark on self-built prison walls for Blake. Marking all the days he should’ve had with her. All the moments that should’ve been his. Pain and regret gnawed at his stomach like hunger pains. He’s starved himself of her presence for so long. He didn’t want to live in that emotional poverty anymore.

  Little by little, she opened up. And more and more, he wondered if, by the end of this trip, he could prove himself enough to overcome his past mistakes and she’d let him back into her life.

  This time, he wanted nothing less than forever.

  “Jack wanted more out of the relationship than I did. He began to pressure me for more dates. More time together. More talk about the future.” She shrugged uncomfortably. “Until finally I told him I needed a break.”

  Blake almost faltered in his step. A pattern began to emerge. Layla dates a man who falls for her, offers a serious commitment—a future—and she retreats. Fascinating . “What did he do?”

  “He didn’t take it well, but he came around less. Once we spent a whole week apart, and I thought he’d given up. When I didn’t miss him at all, I knew there was no hope for a future. I needed to end it between us.”

  “I’m betting Johnson wasn’t wild about that idea.”

  She shook her head. Fixing her gaze on a low balance beam, the final obstacle, she stepped onto its narrow width. “That’s when things deteriorated, and the threats started. I think he considered our similar pasts like some sort of totem carved in stone. When I ended it, something happened to him. Like he’d lost his inner balance and—”

  Deep in concentration, Blake suddenly realized she’d stopped talking. His head snapped up. He saw her teeter on the beam and reached out just in time to steady her.

  He didn’t let go of her hand. She didn’t pull away.

  Their eyes met, held. She whispered, “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “That’s what I’m here for. If you need someone to hold on to, and don’t want to go it alone.”

  Layla’s face took on a wistful glow that squeezed his heart. He recognized that look. The one she wore when she sat on her porch and stared off into a fantasy he’d always wanted to create with her. Without intending to, he’d discovered the tender spot beneath her defenses. He’d caught his first glimpse of who this woman would have been without the years and layers of loss, pain, sacrifice, and forgotten dreams. Layla free of her shadows.

  The most stunning thing he’d ever seen.

  Blake caught himself right at the brink of this moment, before he skidded over the edge. Into a place there was no coming back from.

  Feeling the warm press of her fingertips, an extension of trust, Blake recognized she was testing the sureness of his grip. He held her, not too tight, not too lose. Just steady. He didn’t want to repeat his mistakes, rushing into things and then becoming too prideful and stubborn to hang on when the going got rocky and she tested him. He knew he needed to hold back, take it slow. Because he wanted her beside him when he took that final leap into their future together.

  She took a step forward, then hesitated. “If I keep going, all the way to the end… You won’t let go?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Not for anything.”

  They made it to the end. He stepped in front of the beam, their faces level. Letting go of her hand, he fit his hands around her waist, ready to lift her down. Her hands rested on his shoulders, and the feeling soaked into his skin, into his blood stream. An intoxicating rush came from her touch and made him want to forget logic and give in to lust.

  But fate held a different twist.

  A powerful spotlight surged through the darkness, beamed at his face. Used to the dark, the light blinded him completely.

  He threw an arm over his eyes and tried to get his bearings. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts and Layla he hadn’t heard a car pull into the parking lot near the playground.

  That singular beam could only come from a police cruiser.

  “Hands up where I can see them,” came the harsh command.

  Layla tensed at the man’s low, sinister tone.

  Breathing a curse, Blake turned toward the light, slowly raised his arms. “Do what he says, Layla.”

  A whiff of cigarette smoke drifted to him. His body went cold with dread. Had someone been watching them?

  Instinct coiled inside him, prepared to spring.

  The man barked commands. “Move into the light. Slower. Come closer. Right there. Stop.”

  Blake squinted against the glare, trying to discern the make of the car and the license plate. If he read the word Ohio, the police wouldn’t need to intervene again. They’d need an ambulance by the time he finished with Johnson. Or a coroner.

  “Keep your hands up!” The voice resonated with menace. Layla started shaking. Blake couldn’t tell if the voice belonged to Jack. Regardless, they were up against a man with a gun at his side. Until Blake found an opening, he had to do as told. “Now turn around. Spread ‘em.”

  They were getting frisked? The moment this guy touched Blake, he’d be flat on the ground, his throat under Blake’s boot. Blake wasn’t prepared to take any chances if it turned out to be Johnson.

  The man stepped toward them with a cocky swagger. Coiled instincts wound Blake tighter.

  White light illuminated all three of them. Blake took in a khaki police uniform with the black stripe down the pants, the man’s wide-set blue eyes, Scandinavian features. It added up to a huge sigh of relief that burst from Blake’s lungs. “Officer Munson.”

  “Who the—aw, hell. It’s you two out here?” The officer’s bravado deflated, yet he greeted Blake with a half smile. “I thought I’d stumbled onto something good.”

  “Sorry.” Blake lowered his hands and winked at Layla. “We kept our clothes on. I swear.”

  The officer clicked the safety back into place on his gun and returned it to its holster. “What’re you doing at the playground this late?”

  “You’re right. Normally I would’ve have taken Layla
out here. But we needed some air. Couldn’t sleep. I’m sure you can imagine.”

  The officer nodded, then addressed Layla. “Sorry, ma’am. We haven’t found anything yet on that stalker of yours.”

  Layla leaned into Blake. “I thought you were him.”

  “I could’ve been.” He sobered. “You two should be more careful. Never know who’s skulking around this late.” He lifted his cap, scratched behind his ear and fitted it snug again. “I’ve been thinking about that fella. When you,” he said, nodding at Blake, “asked me to check on that unmarked car from Ohio, it dawned on me that those knife marks were similar to those made by a Smith and Wesson SWAT knife, standard equipment for most officers of the law. I went along with your hunch that this guy might be the undercover cop you wanted me to look up. So I did, and found it interesting that the vehicle is registered as on loan to Officer Jack Johnson.”

  Blake kept his tone neutral. “That is interesting.”

  “Been gone for two days. Johnson was released from local duty temporarily to follow up undercover on something for the DEA.”

  “The federal drug unit?” Blake asked.

  “That’s them. Unusual, though, since he’s just your average cop. It must be a specific assignment he’s specially trained to handle. He’s heading northwest on official business. Still, the coincidence seemed too impressive to ignore.”

  “Does that mean Jack is following us? Have you seen the car? Is he still here in town?” Anxiety threaded through Layla’s string of questions.

  “Wish I knew,” the officer said grimly.

  Blake wondered, “Do you still have a police car patrolling the motel?” The officer nodded. “Then if Jack shows up again in his undercover car you’ll know it’s him.”

  “Just for my own curiosity,” the officer began, squinting at the two of them. “What’s this guy’s issue that he’d deviate from duty to harass you?”

  “I’m his ex-girlfriend,” Layla told him.

  Blake concluded, “And I’m the guy who wants to see him put away for being an accomplice to murder.”

  Officer Munson’s eyes widened. “Guess that explains things.”

  They exchanged a few more details about Jack and the officer grew more concerned. He promised he’d patrol the town all night to find this guy.

  On their way to his Harley, parked ten yards from the cop car, Blake paused. He turned to back to the policeman. “Officer Munson…do you smoke cigarettes?”

  The officer shook his head. “Not since I was sixteen, when I took my first and last puff.” Blake’s heart stopped mid-beat. Then kicked up and slammed hard against his ribs. “Why?” Munson asked.

  Blake reached for Layla’s hand. “You might want to look over the grounds before you leave the parking lot. I have a feeling, now, that Layla and I weren’t alone out here.”

  “Sure. I’ll call you at the motel if I find anything.”

  Blake nodded in gratitude. He slid onto his bike and felt Layla snuggle in behind him. As he reached for his helmet, he heard Layla whispered in his ear, “What did you mean when you told him we weren’t alone?”

  “Exactly what I said.”

  Her voice wavered. “Do you think Jack followed us, heard us talking about him?”

  “I don’t know anything for sure, Layla, except that I want you safe. Maybe we did lure Jack out here, but that could work to our advantage. Especially if he gets caught.”

  “It’s strange,” she said, putting her arms around his waist. “Even though we were talking about him, I wasn’t really thinking about him. I wasn’t even afraid. Isn’t that crazy, considering what just happened at the motel?”

  Blake dropped one hand from the smooth surface of his helmet and let it fall back to caress Layla’s thigh. “Maybe it’s because you felt safe.”

  “That’s never happened to me before.”

  “Think you could get used to it?”

  She wrapped herself tight around him. “Yes…I could get used to this feeling.”

  “Good.”

  Because he planned to stick around. He couldn’t wait for the day to come when she would never have to think about or fear Jack Johnson ever again.

  Helmet in place, Blake started the motor and drove carefully out of the lot heading toward the motel, searching for anything or anyone suspicious. Unmarked cars at the top of the list. Man, he hoped they’d nail Johnson. So he and Layla could finish the journey in peace. They had enough on their hands with Rob and the deadline looming.

  And what was Johnson doing with a specialty mission in the northwest? One that would put all three of them on the same map, same roads…same destination?

  Johnson was one more thing Blake didn’t need standing between their attempts to get Rob back home in time and in one piece—and between Blake trying to convince Layla to come back home to him.

  *

  Jack watched the police car approach him, inching along the pavement, flood light blasting the darkness. Jack had half a mind to shoot up the cop inside. When the cruiser stopped suddenly and rocked with the force of the break, Jack flipped his headlights on and rolled down his window.

  “Hey—what the hell’s wrong with you? I put in that call to tell you, I saw drugs go into the saddlebags of that guy’s motorcycle. You didn’t even check them!” Jack hollered, a vein pulsing in his neck.

  “They’re innocent travelers who were victims of an attack tonight. What are you bent out of shape about, if you’re just a citizen doing his moral duty?”

  “You should’ve checked! If you weren’t slacking off, they’d be in jail by now.”

  The cop’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m an undercover,” Jack replied haughtily. “I’m trained to spot suspicious activity. I know what I saw. If you won’t crack down on them, then I will.”

  “Not in my jurisdiction, pal. And what did you just say…something about being undercover, scouting illegal drug activity… Do you work with the DEA?”

  Jack didn’t like the way this prick was talking to him. Arranging pieces of Jack’s story together like a puzzle he was intent on solving. “None of your business.”

  “Oh, I think it is. Especially since I’m looking for a guy who is about to fit your description—when I confirm your license plates are registered in Ohio.”

  The officer’s car began to roll backward. Jack didn’t bother to put up his window. He punched into reverse and peeled out of the lot before the cop shifted out of neutral.

  Ignoring every stop sign as he blasted through side streets, Jack gripped the wheel furiously. How had he suddenly become the target, not Blake?

  Damn small town red tape bullshit. Fine, he’d stay away from places like this and do his business how he liked. Without having to answer to anyone. He flew past the motel and launched up the entrance ramp onto the freeway.

  He’d just wait for Blake and meet up with him on the highway. Force him to pull over. Then there’d be no stopping Jack from settling this score.

  *

  In the semi-darkness of their motel room, Layla sat up in bed wide awake.

  Her brain just wouldn’t shut off. She’d been tossing and turning for the past hour and couldn’t stand it anymore. She felt the urge to get up and do something.

  Anything to distract her from her hyperawareness of Blake crashed out in bed beside her. Men possessed that enviable ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere, under any condition. Layla was not so blessed.

  Leaning back against the headboard, she rubbed her eyes and yawned loudly. Blake rolled toward her for the tenth time in the past hour. He flung an arm over her knees, nuzzled his face against the side of her thigh, directly in line with the place he had pleasured with his mouth so thoroughly earlier. He only had to lift his head, move it a few inches to the left and descend between her thighs to repeat an exceptional performance that had left her breathless. Her breathing quickened, remembering.

  Desire shot through her body. An exquisite te
nsion pulled deep in her abdomen. The peak between her folds swelled and throbbed with need.

  This was ridiculous. How was she supposed to sleep if all she could think about was waking him up with the slide of her naked body against his?

  They weren’t ready for lovemaking…were they? She wasn’t sure.

  She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not when it came to Blake. Not after tonight.

  Blake’s elbow crooked around her knees. As if seeking warmth his hand slid up the sheets and underneath her backside. O h…not good .

  She threw off the sheets and extracted herself from Blake’s hold, which was surprisingly firm considering he was sound asleep. She slid into her flip flops and they snapped at her heels as she wandered around the room, rechecking the door locks. Peeking out the view hole in the door, she saw the same local law enforcement car parked under the blue glow of a streetlight not far from their door. Very reassuring.

  Still, she moved to the window and checked the latches. They were locked up tight. She stared into the darkness beyond, searching for moving shadows, waiting for Jack to appear out of the night and come toward her. But nothing moved. Maybe Blake had been right. The car that had streaked past the motel as they were unlocking the motel door had been Jack after all.

  He’d left town. They were safe. For now.

  She went to the bathroom door which stood ajar, where Blake had left the light on for her. She opened it further so the stripe of light widened and spilled across the floor, and the bed, illuminating the stark beauty of the man sleeping there.

  He stirred but did not wake.

  Layla sighed. This puttsing around accomplished nothing but putting imaginary distance between her and her desire for the man in that bed.

  In the center of the room she stilled. She was doing it again. Exactly what he’d accused her of earlier that night. Attending to trivial things to put distance between herself and Blake. The same defense mechanism she’d engaged when she’d thrown Robby between them as an excuse for not dealing with her own conflicting emotions.