by L. P. Dover
She gasped. “What? What do you mean Cole’s dead? That’s not possible.”
Lips quivering, I wiped the tears from my eyes as I heard her pounding away on her computer. She wouldn’t believe me until she saw the proof for herself. The line went quiet until she blew out a long, shaky breath.
I knew she needed time to adjust, but I didn’t have time to waste. “I need your help, B. The police are trying to cover it up as an accident, but it’s not. Mitchell’s the one who did it.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she growled. “What the hell is wrong with that psycho?”
“I don’t know, but he’s coming for me.”
“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror, but I couldn’t tell if anyone was following me. “I need to disappear. It’s the only way to escape him.”
“All right, I’ll get it handled. Where are you headed right now?”
I hadn’t had time to think. Tears clouded my vision and I could barely see the road. “To the airport? Hell, I don’t know. I just left everything behind, my life, my job. It’s all over.”
“No, it’s not,” she snapped. “And don’t go to the airport. It’s the first place Mitchell will think to look. I want you to drive north to Maine; he’ll never suspect that. My brother and his wife are there now. They’ll know how to keep you safe while we get everything handled.” Her brother was an undercover detective, too. I had the biggest crush on him when we were growing up.
Lips trembling, I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “I miss him,” I cried. “I won’t even be there for his funeral.”
“I know,” she murmured. “I’m going to miss him, too. Now be safe and get to Maine. I’ll text you the address.” We hung up and she texted me the destination. The thought of being on the run for the rest of my life terrified me, but what choice did I have? Not a damn one.
Chapter 4
Kristen
It took only a little over two hours to get to Hallowell, Maine. Jason Avery, Brooklyn’s brother, and his wife, Aylee, were waiting for me on the front porch of a large white house when I pulled up. The last time I saw Jason was at their wedding, but he looked the same with his dark hair and tattooed arms. Aylee had the same auburn colored hair as me, but her skin was fairer than mine. Not to mention she was an FBI agent and a complete badass. I didn’t know much about her other than that, but I did remember Brooklyn telling me that her uncle owned a bed-and-breakfast in the small Maine town. We had talked about getting away for a long weekend there but never had the chance to do it.
There were flowers everywhere, their colors soothing and beautiful, but nothing could take away the pain in my heart. I was only two hours away from Mitchell and it wasn’t nearly far enough.
I got out of the car and Jason rushed over, pulling me into his arms. “Holy shit, Kris. Brooklyn told me everything. I am so sorry about Cole.” Holding him tight, I finally let myself go. Cole was one of his friends, too; we all grew up together. He let me go and I felt so weak I could barely move. Everything that happened had drained the life out of me. “Where’s your phone?” he asked, his expression sad.
I pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him. “What are you going to do with it?”
He slipped it into his back pocket. “We need to turn it in to the FBI for evidence. Maybe they can find something that’ll link Blackwell to Cole’s death.”
“Will I get it back? I don’t want to lose my pictures of Cole.” I’d recorded the past few years of my life on that phone. It was all I had left of Cole. Jason could tell I was hanging on by a thread.
“You’ll get it back, Kristen. I promise.”
“I guess I really do have to leave my life behind, huh?” I whispered sadly.
Jason sighed and hugged me again. “We can’t take any chances on this fucker being able to track you. You can have my phone.” Aylee squeezed my arm and I pulled away from Jason to face her. She had a small black object in her hands that looked sort of like a phone, but not.
“I have my people working on your new ID. It’ll take a couple of days.” She walked over to my car and searched around it slowly, the thing in her hands flashing silently.
“What is she doing?” I asked Jason.
“She’s looking for tracking devices. When Brooklyn told me who this guy was, I researched him. He’s a power-hungry son of a bitch with a shit ton of connections. I’d give anything to fuck him up after what he did to Cole. I’m not going to let him get away with it.”
In stories, you always see the heroes prevail, but in the real world, the villains always succeeded. Mitchell Blackwell was proof of that. My stomach clenched in anger. “And how are you going to do that, Jason? I overheard the cops at the station. They know Cole’s death wasn’t an accident, but they were told to make it look like one. If we can’t trust the system, how are we going to prove his guilt?”
He placed his hands on my shoulders, sheer determination in his green eyes. “We’re going to work together. It’s not going to be easy and it won’t happen overnight, but I promise we’ll find a way.”
“Unfortunately, we have a problem,” Aylee growled. When she stood, the device in her hands flashed wildly. Jason tensed and ran over to her, reaching his hand underneath my car. He felt around for a second, then pulled out a small black square. My heart stopped and I felt sicker by the minute.
“Fuck,” Jason said, tossing it onto the ground. He raced over to his shovel and smashed the square over and over until the lights stopped flashing on Aylee’s tracking detector.
“Now what?” I asked desperately.
Aylee and Jason looked at each other, almost as if they were communicating silently, which they probably were. Now that they were married, they worked on cases together.
Jason flung open my car door and grabbed my bag out of the backseat while Aylee rushed inside the house. “You are coming with me and Aylee’s going to drive your car into Canada. That way it’ll make it harder for fuckface to find you.” Aylee ran out of the house with a bag slung over her shoulder.
“What if he already has? He could be on his way right now.”
Aylee tossed her bag into my car. “That’s why you have to leave, too. My uncle already knows what to say if those cocksuckers show up. When he sees the tracker’s not working, he’ll figure out other ways to find you.”
I shook my head. “It’s too dangerous. He’s not the forgiving type. What if he finds you?”
She winked. “I can take care of myself. If I can get your car out of the country, it’ll buy you some time. Then after that, you’ll be long gone with a new identity.”
Jason put his arm around me. “Don’t worry, Kris. She’s not as helpless as she looks.”
Aylee flipped him off but then winked and blew him a kiss. “See ya back at home.” She jumped into my car and disappeared down the street. It felt like everything was closing in all around me and there was no place to go.
Jason grabbed my elbow. “Let’s go, Kristen.” He carried my bag over to his car and tossed it inside before opening the passenger-side door.
“Where are we going?” I asked, sliding into the seat.
He glanced quickly at the driveway. “North Carolina.”
I shook my head. “We can’t go there. He knows that’s where I’m from. Don’t you think it’s the first place he’ll look?”
His concerned gaze met mine. “Probably, but we’re not going back to Charlotte. I want you close to Aylee and me. I promise that bastard won’t be able to find you.”
We started on our way and I rested my head against the window until everything began to blur together. I had to believe Jason was right.
Chapter 5
Kristen
ONE YEAR LATER
The cool breeze blew through the trees while the water rippled in the pond; it was music to my ears. I missed the sounds and smells of home while I was in Boston. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until
I made it back. It wasn’t the way I wanted to come home, especially with Cole not being by my side. Lying on the grass, I looked up at the sky, the clouds turning pink with the setting sun. A car door slammed up at the house and I knew it’d be Jason, coming to cut the grass even though I’d told him numerous times before I could do it myself.
I could hear him walking down the hill toward me so I sat up and glanced at him over my shoulder. “You’re killing me, Avery.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t want you messing up the lawn. You’ll butcher it if I let you do it.”
Giggling, I rolled my eyes and lay back down in the grass. “You’d be surprised, jackass. My father taught me how to cut grass.”
He joined me and sat down, his gaze on the pond. “I have no doubt, Kris. Coming over here actually gives me a chance to catch up with you. You work so much these days.”
I shrugged. “My job at the restaurant is all I have.”
He sighed. “I know, but it wouldn’t hurt you to get out every once in a while. Blackwell isn’t going to find you down here; he’s still searching in Canada.”
After some digging around, Jason and Aylee found out there was another woman before me who was linked to Mitchell, only she had committed suicide. Every time they tried to find more information on her, they came to a dead end, almost like it was deliberately put that way. I hated to think people with the FBI could be bought, but there was no other explanation. That was why Jason and Aylee made sure to involve only the people they trusted with my case.
With Mitchell still searching for me, I’d never be free. I had a plan in mind that I’d been pondering for months, but I didn’t know if it’d be possible. “Jason,” I murmured, turning to face him.
His brows lifted curiously. “Yeah.”
“I need to get my life back. Always looking over my shoulder isn’t a way to live.”
“I know, but we’ve got everyone watching his moves; he’s going to fuck up and we’ll arrest him. We’re gathering information and it will happen. There’s not much more we can do; it all takes time.”
I swallowed hard, knowing my decision was going to hurt people, especially Cole’s parents. One day I’d make it up to them. “I realize that, but it has been a year. I’ve been thinking, just hear me out—I need you and Aylee to find a way to kill Kristen Robinson. As long as my name is still out there, I’ll never be free. If I’m dead, then Mitchell will have no choice but to give up the hunt.”
Jason’s expression was conflicted, but I could see the understanding in his eyes. “It can be done, but it’s not going to be easy. We can probably convince the FBI that if they do this, it might make it easier to catch Blackwell.”
“How so?”
He shrugged. “Maybe he’ll find another woman to control and fuck up like he did with you. That way they can keep their eyes on him and catch him.” In a way, it all seemed hopeless. Mitchell had too much money to be caught. He could pay off anyone and they’d keep their mouths shut.
I looked up at the house I’d been living in for the past year and then over to the sparkling pond. It was Brooklyn’s house and land before she moved to California with her husband. She’d visited me a couple of times over the past year, and every time I hated it when she left. She asked me to move out to California so she could keep watch over me, but I turned the offer down. She had a husband and daughter, and the last thing she needed to worry about was me. Brooklyn’s house had become my home, but I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. Someday I’d have to find a place of my own and settle down.
“Kristen,” Jason called, catching my attention. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
I sucked in a breath and nodded. “Yes.”
He stared at me, but my resolve never wavered. I was ready to take the final step, to end Kristen Robinson for good. Jason placed a hand soothingly on my shoulder and squeezed. “All right, it’ll be done.”
I set my hand on top of his. “Thanks, Jason. I’ll make sure to give you a free order of fried pickles when you come into Sammy’s.”
He burst out laughing. “Can’t wait.” Sammy’s was a local pub in downtown Belmont that had some of the best food in the city. I’d never worked in a restaurant before, but I picked it up quick even though I’d broken a few glasses and plates in the process. “You can always send your résumé to M&M Architectural Design,” Jason suggested. “You have a degree in your new name.” He was right, I did. I had an all new Social Security card and license as well, since I was basically in the Witness Protection Program, only not officially. I was a completely different person now.
I nodded. “I know, but I’m not ready yet. It’s too risky right now. Once my name is dead, I’ll consider it.”
“I understand. You can stay in Brooklyn’s house as long as you want. When she and Camden moved to California, she didn’t want to sell it. My buddy Luke wanted to buy it from her, but she turned him down every time.”
“I can see why.” I laughed. The place was gorgeous. There wasn’t another house in sight and she had her own woods to go exploring in. I wouldn’t sell it, either. Maybe one day when I got a designing job I’d be able to afford a place of my own.
Jason jumped to his feet and stretched. “All right, I’m gonna get to work. Don’t you work tonight?” he asked.
Glancing down at my phone, I saw I had thirty minutes left to relax. “Yep, but only for about four hours. Chris asked if I’d come in, since Meredith needed to go home early.” Chris Sorrentino was one of the restaurant managers and a really nice guy. Anytime he needed me to come in, I couldn’t tell him no.
Jason turned on his heel and started toward the house. “Sounds good. Aylee and I might stop by and cash in your offer of fried pickles.”
“You do that.” I chuckled. He disappeared into the garage and the lawn mower fired up. Cole used to mow the lawn at my Salem house. While we were growing up, he cut grass during the summers to earn money. Closing my eyes, I held back the tears as all the memories came flooding back. Jason and I almost didn’t escape that day in Maine.
According to Aylee’s uncle, Mitchell had shown up at the bed-and-breakfast doorstep not long after Jason and I left. The crazy bastard was on my tail not long after I left Boston. If Jason and I had stuck around thirty minutes longer, he would’ve found me. Aylee’s uncle led him north while we traveled south. It’d been a little over a year since that day, and the pain was still there, especially since I had no closure. Mitchell was still relentless in his search for me. Aylee didn’t know at the time, but the FBI had people in place long before Mitchell and I ever started seeing each other. Apparently he was involved in other heinous crimes besides killing my friend and stalking me. When the word “Mafia” was mentioned, I couldn’t believe I never saw it before. That was how he was able to get away with the things he did. His connections ran far and wide.
Cole’s parents had filed a missing persons report on me and it killed me not to contact them, but I couldn’t take any chances. Until Mitchell was put behind bars, I couldn’t risk their safety. It’d been years since the FBI started investigating him and he still wasn’t in prison. I was beginning to believe he never would.
Brushing the grass off my shorts, I stood and walked back up the hill so I could get ready for work. Once in the bathroom, I stopped to look in the mirror and touched my face. After everything I’d been through, I almost didn’t recognize myself.
“I’m Kristen Holt, bartender at Sammy’s Pub.” I wanted to keep my first name, but had to drop the Robinson. It took days of repeating it to memorize it. Holt was the last name the FBI gave me and it turned out it was my grandmother’s maiden name. At least I had some familial connection to it.
I am Kristen Holt, I repeated again in my mind. Because soon Kristen Robinson would be dead, and that part of me would be gone.
Chapter 6
Kellan
My muscles ached and I was way past ready to call it a night. The guys skated off the ice, but Coach Carlisle c
alled my name, along with Dallas and Braeden. Lifting his helmet, Dallas left the goal and joined Braeden and me in the center of the rink. “What the hell did we do now?” he grumbled. Dallas Easton was our goalie and one of the best in the league. He had a scar above his right eye where he got hit with a puck.
I took off my helmet. “What makes you think he’s going to bitch at us?”
Dallas scoffed. “Because that’s what he does.”
We all had our own level of stress and responsibilities. Dallas and Braeden were both alternate captains, even though Dallas wasn’t technically allowed to be one since he was a goaltender. We found a way around it by bringing in Braeden as an alternate so he could talk to the referees when I couldn’t. I was the captain, which put a lot of pressure on me; it was an honor I carried with pride.
Coach Carlisle sat on the bench, looking through the plays with his head down. He used to be one of the best professional hockey players in the country until an injury to the knee took him out. I could tell he was stressed, but that was just the way he was. Every year more gray would show up in that dark hair of his. I was already in contact with the owners of the Strikers about coaching the team when Carlisle retired and once my hockey-playing career was over. It was a secret I had yet to tell anyone. I was thirty years old, one of the oldest on the team, and only a few years away from retiring. I’d played professionally ever since I was sixteen.
We skated over to him and he sighed, still not lifting his head to acknowledge us. “I have some news for you, boys. Well, mainly for Carter, but I wanted to talk to you all.”
He peered up at us and stood, but focused on Dallas first. “Good stops today, Easton. Tomorrow I want you to work one-on-one with Harrison. We need to get him up to par with you.”
“Why? You thinkin’ of taking me out?” Dallas countered. I could hear the anger in his voice, so I bumped him in the shoulder, hoping he’d calm the fuck down. He was always quick to start a fight, but he knew better than to start one with me.
