Escape

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Escape Page 8

by Jay Crownover


  So, I dated, quietly and infrequently, but only after he passed away. There was already so much talk and so much gossip surrounding our unorthodox relationship that I refused to add more fuel to the fire when he was alive. I didn’t want him to be haunted by the rumors that I was a gold-digger just like my mother, that he’d replaced one ungrateful, awful wife with another. I didn’t want him to have to defend me when it took all of his waning energy to get out of bed each morning. But after he was gone, I did what he told me to and looked for men who were available and ready for something serious. I didn’t bother with anyone who looked at me sideways or who approached me with questions lingering in their eyes. I had no time for a man who thought I was a sure thing simply because of what they heard in town. Boyd forced me to come to terms with my value and worth, and I refused to squander that gift.

  I was lucky that there had been good men in my life, great men, and my first kisses with some of them were not moments I took lightly or wanted to forget. But all I could feel was the slightly frantic slide of Lane’s mouth across mine and the sense of rightness that settled in my soul when I finally got a taste of him. All this time I’d been trying to find someone to replace him, and with one kiss he destroyed everyone who came before him. I was never going to forget that kiss, and I knew all the way down to the marrow in my bones that I was never, ever going to be able to replace Lane Warner in my heart.

  “There are rattlers and sidewinders out here so watch where you step.” His voice was smooth and smoky from somewhere behind me.

  I gritted my teeth together and cast a look down at the ground, making sure to watch where I stepped after the warning. We had all kinds of wildlife in Wyoming that could kill you in an instant, so I was typically more aware of my surroundings. That kiss was still swirling around my senses, making me careless and rushed.

  “I’m not sure where we should be heading. I don’t really know which direction the yelling was coming from.” When I heard somebody in distress, it sent all my inner alarms trilling. So many nights I called for help whenever one of my mother’s mistakes got out of hand, and every time my cries went unanswered. It was only the next day when Lane caught sight of new bruises or took note of the fact I was limping that someone offered a helping hand. I don’t know what I would have done without him, and now that I was an adult, not scared to stand my ground, I could never look the other way when someone might need me the way I needed Lane back then.

  “Take a left up here. I don’t think it was coming from the area where the tents are set up. It didn’t sound that close. The RV section is over there a little way, maybe it came from there.” I could feel the whisper of his words against the back of my neck.

  I looked over my shoulder and realized he was very close to me, blue eyes scanning the darkness, jaw locked in a hard line of tension. I didn’t say anything when he retrieved a wicked looking, black handgun from the glovebox of the truck before we set off. The Warner boys were practically born with a firearm in their hands, and after Lane’s ordeal down by the river with Sutton’s stalker, it was no surprise he was going to be prepared for anything waiting out there in the dark. He might have lost Round One, but there’d be no Round Two if he had anything to say about it.

  “We can’t be the only ones who heard that scream. It sounded like someone was struggling. Why isn’t anyone else making sure everything is okay? This campground is more than half full.” My frustration was evident and ingrained deep within me from a lifetime of being let down by others.

  Lane grumbled something I couldn’t make out under his breath. His warm palm landed on the back of my neck, his fingers biting into the tightness that made my whole-body stiff. The rough caress sent a shiver shooting down my spine and forced my hands to curl into fists so tight that my nails dug painfully into my skin. He was always physically pulling me closer while inexplicably pushing me away.

  “People tend to turn a blind eye to problems that aren’t their own. They like to think their inaction doesn’t matter, but it does. They tell themselves that it’s someone else’s responsibility to do something about it, but we both know the only way to make sure everyone is safe is for all of us to account. All humans need to take some ownership of what happens to other humans, especially those who aren’t in a position to defend and speak for themselves.” His voice dropped off, and his hand constricted to the point where it was almost painful.

  I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the way I’d been left behind and forgotten about over and over again when I was younger, or if he remembered the way everyone in our hometown let Sutton’s ex slip through the cracks. Our entire town knew the woman had a drinking problem and that she was a danger to herself and her child. Instead of helping her and protecting Daye, they ostracized the woman and let her drown in her misery and despair. No one tried to throw her a life preserver, and no one who wasn’t family offered Sutton a hand out of the water when he started to sink right along with her.

  I gave a nod of agreement. That sense of responsibility, that deep-seated need to protect and defend, was something all the Warner men shared. It was only a small part of what made them all so very special.

  The first RV was a tricked-out rental occupied by a young couple who were so stoned I doubted they would remember us stopping by to ask them if they heard anything concerning. They offered to give us a baggie full of brownies that Lane turned down with an amused snicker. The next RV belonged to a family that was visiting from Canada, I could tell by their accents on certain words and their unfailing politeness even though our questions made them obviously uneasy. The dad was outside with a couple of teenagers, and they all looked at us with thinly veiled suspicion when we stopped to inquire about the screaming. Admittedly Lane was a big guy, and his current scowl wasn’t very friendly, but he kept his posture relaxed and let me handle asking the questions. They all muttered that they hadn’t heard anything, but none of them would meet my gaze when I pressed and insisted that I’d heard someone screaming not that long ago. The next few spaces were empty, and the next three had RVs parked in them that were dark, indicating the owners were either asleep or out and about elsewhere.

  My frustration mounted with each step and unease slithered under my skin as I recalled the panic echoing through the air in that scream. Lane looped a heavy arm around my shoulders and pulled me into the curve at the side of his body. His lips ghosted over my temple in a barely there kiss. I could feel how tense he was; his disappointment as palpable as I’m sure mine was.

  We were retracing our steps back to the entrance of the RV park when one of the teenagers from the Canadian campsite suddenly called out for us to wait up a minute. I shared a wide-eyed look with Lane, and he pulled to a stop and subtly shifted so that I was stationed somewhat behind him. The teen couldn’t be any older than sixteen or seventeen. However, he was taller than I was and had quite a bit of muscle on him. I would bet good money on him being an athlete of some kind. I noticed that his father was no longer hanging out with the kids outside of the camper and that his brother and sister were watching the exchange with obvious concern. The kid wasn’t even slightly out of breath as he jogged his way over to where we were standing.

  He pushed a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes skimming over Lane. “Sorry about my dad. He has a very firm ‘don’t talk to strangers, no matter what’ policy.” An anxious giggle burst out of his mouth, and he shifted uneasily in his sneakers. “He also thinks every single American is carrying around a machine gun, so he’s been very cautious this entire trip. This is only our second stop. We’re all hoping he loosens up after the first week. My brother and sister and I were kind of hoping we could talk to some kids our age in the places we’re visiting, but so far he hasn’t even let us do that.” He laughed again, but I could see his apprehension plain as day.

  I put a hand on Lane’s lower back, right next to the spot where he had his handgun tucked away and tried to give the kid an encouraging smile. “Your dad is just trying to keep you safe
. Can’t blame him for that. It’s always a good idea to be cautious and aware of your surroundings. Are you sure you should be talking to us? I don’t want you to get in trouble.” I kept my voice even and steady. The kid was like a wary animal. I was afraid he was going to bolt any second, and I didn’t want him to get in trouble for doing the right thing, not at the start of his family vacation.

  He looked Lane up and down again and swallowed audibly. “It’s fine, but I don’t have long. He had to make a work call, but he wasn’t getting good service, so he walked out toward the entrance of the park. He’s only going to be gone for a couple of minutes, and he left me in charge.” He looked down at the ground and then back up at us, his eyes locking on mine. “The reason he was so weird when you stopped by and asked about the screaming is that we heard it too. My little brother and sister were outside playing tag when they heard someone calling for help. Dad freaked out and ran outside to check on the kids, and while he was out there, he said he saw a guy around my age being dragged by the arm to an old RV that used to be parked a space down from ours. Dad said the kid was struggling, telling the guy to let him go, but the guy doing the pulling laughed it off and mumbled something about brats acting out. My dad was worried about getting my brother and sister inside and out of harm's way. He said he got a bad feeling from the guy who was manhandling the kid. He didn’t like the way the older guy looked at my brother. As soon as Dad had the kids inside, he went out to write the license plate of the RV down, but it was already gone.” The teenager looked down at the ground and shifted his feet. “He was trying to do the right thing. He feels bad they disappeared before he could alert the authorities.” He cleared his throat. “He was just trying to take care of us like you said.”

  Lane’s chin dipped in an understanding gesture. “I get it. And from the sounds of things, it’s good your old man is keeping such a close eye on all of you. You said it was an old RV? Anything else about it stand out?”

  The teenager rubbed a hand over his face and turned his head to look at his siblings who were still watching us closely. They were a tight unit, watching out for one another. It reminded me of Lane and his brothers who also wanted to do the right thing and refused to let anyone take advantage of their valiant streaks that ran a mile wide.

  “It was practically rusted out, man. Like I have no idea how he drove it away without leaving the muffler behind. The windows were covered too, which I remember thinking was really weird. Why come camping somewhere as cool as this if you aren’t going to look at the trees and if you can’t watch the sunset?” His head snapped up, and his eyes popped wide as his hands fluttered excitedly in front of him. “There were stickers on the back. They were faded and looked like they’d been there for a long time.” He went on to describe the stickers, and I could see his eyes light up when he remembered, “I’m pretty sure the license plate said Texas. It wasn’t from California, I’m sure of that. We were playing spot all the different license plates on the way down from Vancouver.”

  “That’s good information. You have been very helpful even though you don’t know us. I’m sure your dad will be proud of you for doing the right thing especially when it’s kind of scary.” I gave him a reassuring smile as his brother called his name.

  “That kid, ummm, you think he’s in trouble? Do you think that guy was hurting him?” The obvious distress coming off the kid pulled at every heartstring I had.

  I plastered a hopeful smile on my face and leaned into Lane’s solid form. “I hope not. There’s a good chance it was nothing more than a family squabble that got out of hand.” My mother had used that very excuse more times than I could count. I could feel the weight of those empty words settle like lead in my gut. “I have a very good friend who works for the National Parks service back home. I’m going to give her a call when we get to our campsite and see if she can call in a favor or two. We’ll try and get the right people to check on the kid and the guy in the RV. Your description of the RV should help the right people be able to locate them.”

  The teen’s chest puffed up, and a wobbly smile pulled across his achingly innocent face. “I hope I helped.”

  Lane clapped a hand on the kid’s shoulder and gave him a tiny shake. “You did good, kid. Now, go back to your brother and sister. Be sure to tell to your old man and let him know you talked to us. He might be mad at first, but it would make him even angrier if you tried to hide it. He needs to know he can trust you, and I bet he’ll be proud that you’re a young man who understands what it means to take a stand in a difficult situation.”

  Lane and I both exhaled noisy breaths as the kid turned on his heel and darted back to his family.

  Lane’s arm landed back on my shoulders, and I hooked mine around his narrow hips as we headed back to our camp. I was ice cold everywhere that wasn’t pressed against him.

  “You think he was kidnapped?” The quiet question felt like it was shouted in the stillness of the night around us. My voice cracked and shivered like I was naked in the middle of a snowstorm instead of fully dressed in the desert.

  Lane swore and rubbed his calloused fingers up and down my arm. “I dunno. Could be that, could be sex trafficking. This place is pretty remote, all things considered, and it is on the way to Vegas where a lot of sex trafficking rings are known to be based out of. Though, could be nothing more than a pissed-off teenager fighting with his dad.”

  I huffed out a sound and burrowed deeper into his side. “You don’t believe it’s nothing.” I knew him better than that. Every bruise I showed him, every black eye I couldn’t hide was another reason for him to go to war for me. Going up against someone who was abusing the weak and defenseless was a battle he was willing to fight with very few questions asked.

  “The covered windows are concerning. The kid was right about that. Who goes camping with blacked-out windows? Doesn’t make sense.” He gave me a squeeze that was more reassurance than a hug. “Let’s call Ten and see if she can do anything with the rundown of the RV like you suggested. Not much else we can do.”

  Tennyson McKenna was a long-time friend of the Warner family. She had a history with Cy that went back almost as far as my history with Lane, and aside from being a badass rancher, she was also a full-time forest ranger in Wyoming. The woman was better with a gun than any of the Warners were, and she was fearless. She was sharp as a tack and would know what to do in this situation. I hated feeling hopeless and useless. If there was anything I could do to make sure nothing bad was happening to that kid, then I had to do it…there was no other choice.

  Chapter 7

  Lane

  Bitter or Sweet

  Neither one of us got much sleep that night.

  I could tell Brynn was worried about all the things she couldn’t do to help the kid. Unfortunately, Ten hadn’t offered any reassurance or platitudes. Without a license plate number, there wasn’t much anyone could do to track down the mysterious RV, and without a formal complaint filed, or a verified missing persons report she could link back to the kid there was no legal leg for anyone to stand on when it came to hunting the missing travelers down. As of now, it was nothing more than an uncomfortable confrontation witnessed by a couple of strangers even if something deep within my gut told me there was something much more to it. Ten promised to put some pressure on the park rangers that patrolled the area where we were camping and assured us that if anyone came across the RV, she would have them do a welfare check on the young man. It was something, but it didn’t feel like nearly enough. And I knew Brynn felt the same way.

  How many times had the authorities stopped by her mother’s trailer to check on her and her sister, only to walk away and leave them in the care of a woman who couldn’t see past her vices? Harmony Fox was a master manipulator and a skilled liar. When she needed to play the role of caring and concerned mother, she did, and Brynn was left in that house fighting to survive whatever trials and tribulations her mom’s newest conquest put her through. Back then all I wanted to do was drag her ou
t of that ratty, rusted trailer and take her home with me. I wanted to hide her away somewhere she would never be found by the people who left bruises all over her and that taught her to flinch whenever somebody reached out to touch her. Now, all I wanted to do was protect her from the pain that being unable to help someone she so clearly sympathized with was causing her. She didn’t want anyone else to suffer the way she had, and that made the feelings I had for her swell even bigger inside of me. Her compassion and kindness were endless, and I couldn’t help but be affected by it.

  The close quarters didn’t help matters either. Every time I closed my eyes, I was enveloped in her sweet and spicy scent. Every way I moved I felt the whisper of her soft skin or the slide of her long, silken hair. My heart beat in time to her choppy, aggravated breaths and when she twisted and turned in her sleeping bag I could feel the air churning between us with sexual tension and a lifetime of dismissed desire. Now that the passion and hunger were allowed out of the cage I’d kept them trapped in, those feelings were starving, ravenous, and barely controlled. I could feel them clawing at my insides, twining up my spine and tangling around my throat. I was close to being a savage, controlled by nothing more than the primal instinct to take, to claim, to devour what my inner animal always considered MINE. There wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t want every single part of her, but for the first time ever, Brynn was the one who wasn’t ready.

  She was still skittish from that soul-scrambling kiss, and I could see the way her heart was hurting from having to hurt Jack. It was clear she didn’t trust the sudden shift in my willingness to see what she’d put in front of me from the very start. I’d spent so long ignoring all we could be to one another, that it was hard to blame her for being wary of my intentions. All she knew was how I treated her when she was my best friend, and how I treated her when she broke my heroic heart. She had no idea how I would treat her as a woman I wanted to make my own, and frankly, neither did I considering there hadn’t ever been anyone besides her that I wanted to tie myself to for the long haul.

 

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