by Davy, Wendy;
In spite of the precarious situation, Skylar’s skin heated and her cheeks flushed. No one, since her grandmother had passed, had stood up for her. But would Slade have done the same if he’d known her history?
“It was a gut reaction. I compromised your safety. I’m sorry.” He paused. “The money is what you wanted to talk to Hayworth about, isn’t it? Why is it so personal?”
What was she supposed to say? That she’d been a thief before she’d become a Christian? That she’d known stealing was wrong, but she’d done it anyway and now she feared being falsely accused? The confession stuck deep inside, unwilling to surface. But there were things she could explain. “I stayed at work late yesterday to finish up loose ends before the weekend. The last task on my list was to process the donation to the women’s shelter, as I do the first Friday of every month. Except this time the money was gone. I traced the transfer back to my computer, and I panicked and ran out, planning to go straight to my uncle.”
Slade was silent a moment. “What were you afraid of? You weren’t responsible for the transfer.”
“You’re an ex-detective. You know how it works. Evidence speaks for itself. My password-protected computer was used to transfer the money. I was afraid I’d be blamed for it.”
“If I was investigating, you wouldn’t be my prime suspect.” His voice softened. “You wouldn’t be a suspect at all.”
She’d like to think that was true but with a quick search of police databases he would discover her record. She’d be number one, even on his list.
“How hard could it be to prove your innocence?”
Harder than you might imagine. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. She blinked, fast, keeping drops from spilling over. She searched for a way to change the subject before giving too much away. “Can I get off the floor now?”
Slade turned the wheel as they rounded a curve. “Yes, we’re far enough away from the garage to where they can’t see you.”
Thankful she could stretch a little, Skylar climbed into the front passenger seat and buckled into the seat belt. She massaged her legs, working circulation back into them. As she bent forward, her gaze landed on the weapon pressed to Slade’s side. He’d said he was going to need it. But for what? They weren’t being chased—which brought up another question…
“If Aston suspects you let me live, why did he allow you to leave?”
The intense look Slade gave her triggered goose bumps. He pulled off the road into the woods and cut the engine. Tall pines flanked the vehicle, pressing in on both sides and blocking much of the sun’s rays. The engine ticked as it cooled, creating an unsettling break in the strained silence.
Slade’s cobalt eyes held hints of regret. “He wants me to bring back proof that you’re dead.” His voice lowered as his hand came to rest on the gun’s handle. “I’m real sorry it’s come to this, Sky. I wish there was another way.”
19
Slade’s words immobilized Skylar. She felt faint, as if every drop of blood had exited her veins.
He raised a hand, brushed warm knuckles across her cheek. “I know you’re exhausted. I am too, and I’m ready to go home, but we only have thirty minutes, at most, before Barnes figures out I betrayed him. His laptop is in the garage’s office. We need to double-back through the woods on foot. This might be my last chance to get to it.”
As his explanation registered, Skylar blinked, took in a deep lungful of air. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Slade stilled. “Wait. Did you think…?” As if disappointed, he dipped his head and expelled a breath.
“I know how much getting Sarah’s money back means to you. It’s as if you hold yourself accountable for what Aston did to your family, and you’re searching for redemption.”
“I am responsible for them. I will do everything I can to secure Lily’s future.” A flicker of sadness passed within his gaze. “But I’m not seeking redemption. I don’t deserve it.”
She didn’t know what he blamed himself for, but she didn’t need details to empathize. “I understand what it feels like to have regrets. But there is room for healing—for both of us. Maybe we can help each other?”
Long seconds ticked by as Slade seemed to consider her suggestion.
Perhaps she’d assumed too much—helping each other overcome components of their pasts implied a long-term relationship. Or at least some time spent together beyond their current circumstances when their lives weren’t in imminent danger. Skylar shifted uneasily. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”
“It’s all right.” Slade’s features softened. “You didn’t say anything I hadn’t already thought of. I normally don’t cross the line with clients. I can’t afford the distraction. But it’s different with you. It’s as if it’s been personal since the first time we met.”
Skylar swallowed, remembering how she’d sensed he had compassion, even in those frightening moments within the van. And then the kiss—he’d been gentle, yet she’d glimpsed a bridled passion beneath his surface. “Maybe after this is all over…” She stopped herself from finishing. Even if the attraction was mutual, a man who took pride in seeking justice wouldn’t want to associate with a woman bearing a criminal history.
Regret sliced like a double-edge sword; respective pain from their pasts could bind them together, yet be the catalyst that would break them apart. And, falling for Slade would mean certain heartbreak—he wasn’t the type who could be easily forgotten.
As if sensing her withdrawal, Slade averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “We’d better get moving.” He grabbed his badge from the glove compartment and tucked it into his back pocket before securing the gun in his ankle holster. “Bring your things. We won’t be coming back to the sedan.”
It made sense—considering Slade’s cover was about to be irrevocably blown—to ditch the vehicle he’d been seen driving. But that left one question. “How are we going to get away?”
“The same way you did last night. Through the woods.” Slade stepped out.
Skylar shrugged. She’d done it before; she could do it again. And this time, she wouldn’t be alone. She collected her belongings and exited the car. “The garage is locked up tight. How do you plan to get inside?”
“Trust me. I can get in.”
“But you’ll still have to get past the men.” Skylar followed Slade as he stepped onto the narrow road. “Maybe I can create a distraction. Get them to come out and chase me while you slip inside and check the files on the laptop.”
Slade stopped so fast Skylar bumped into his back. She stumbled. He turned and caught her, kept her from falling.
He leaned close, forcing her to look up to maintain eye contact. “I have no doubt you would have the courage to stand up to Barnes and Mayhew, but you’re not getting near those creeps. Not on my watch.” Slade spoke as if his authority was absolute.
“I want to be close in case you need me. Besides, you don’t have the right to tell me what to do. I haven’t signed your client agreement.”
His compassionate, deep blue eyes transformed into icy glaciers. “Well, then, I’ll have my assistant draw up the contract and send it right over.”
20
Even if they hadn’t been standing in the middle of a gravel road, miles from town, surrounded by towering trees and acres of woodland, Slade’s suggestion would’ve sounded absurd. Which was exactly what he was going for; he didn’t need a signed piece of paper giving him the right to look after Skylar.
Not here. Not now. Not ever.
He would protect her—by any means necessary—regardless. The sooner she accepted that fact, the better. But how could he convince her? She’d already dug in her heels.
Perhaps a little coaxing would benefit his cause. Slade’s pulse spiked as he cupped Skylar’s face in his hands. Her eyes widened as he dipped his head and kissed her. He told himself the kiss was, again, a means to an end: He needed to disarm her, get her to soften her resolve and listen to reason, but when Skylar placed a hand on his
chest—not pushing him away but drawing him near—his heart shifted and his plan backfired as his resolve weakened.
But he couldn’t allow his emotions to take control. Not until they were safe again. With reluctance, he eased away from Skylar, creating much needed distance.
She blinked repeatedly. “You did that to distract me,” she whispered the breathless accusation.
“Did it work?” His voice came out raspier than he intended.
She jabbed a finger at his chest as her gaze smoldered. “The next time you kiss me, you’d better not have an ulterior motive.” She stepped away and strode into the woods, leaving her sweet, delicate scent trailing behind.
“Is that an invitation?” He allowed a smile to break through. No doubt about it, he wanted to kiss her again, but next time would be purely for pleasure—hers and his.
Skylar didn’t reply as she kept moving at a clipped pace.
“For the record,” he said as he jogged to catch up, “I don’t normally kiss women without consent, but you’re stubborn.”
“For the record, normally, if a man kisses me without permission, I reply with a few swift kicks to strategic body parts, but since you’re trying to save my life, I kept my foot to myself—this once.”
“I appreciate that. More than you know.” Slade fell into step beside her. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?”
“I’d guess we’re about three quarters of a mile away from the garage as the crow flies. If we walk this way”—she pointed west—“we should find the building in about ten minutes.”
She’d nailed the distance, direction and timing. “How did you know? You were on the floorboard for most of the drive.”
“I didn’t need to see out the window to know you drove for about three minutes and took two curves in the road. And you taught me to find a point of reference and use it.” She pointed toward the sun.
No doubt about it, Skylar Hart intrigued him. “I’m impressed, but I’d better take the lead.” He stopped walking long enough to withdraw his Glock and switch off the safety. “Barnes keeps a pistol in his office and Mayhew carries a hunting knife and a revolver.”
Skylar shivered. “I need a weapon.” She searched the area and picked up a fallen branch about three feet long and six inches in diameter. She held it like a baseball bat. As if ready and willing to fight, she gestured for Slade to move ahead.
He didn’t budge. “Keep the stick if you want, but I’m not relenting. I want you to stay back. Agree now or we’ll both walk away from this.”
She nipped her lower lip and then sighed. “All right. You need the laptop, and I don’t want to jeopardize your best chance of getting to it.” She dropped the branch and dug in her purse for her cellphone. “But if anything happens, I’m calling 9-1-1.”
“Fair enough.” Slade gave her the garage’s official address just in case. “But only alert the authorities as a last resort.”
Skylar nodded her assent.
Slade took Skylar’s hand in his and maneuvered through the woods. Within minutes the garage’s dingy cinderblock walls came into view. “Let’s circle to the back.”
They rounded the building. A clearing about fifty feet wide separated the garage from the forest. As he neared the tree line, Slade stopped behind a large oak. “Please stay here out of sight.” He squeezed her hand before releasing it.
Concern filled Skylar’s gaze. “I’m getting used to having you around. Come back to me in one piece.”
Her sentiment, while casual in nature, ignited a longing deep within. He wanted to be more than her bodyguard. Maybe one day he could be. But first he needed to get them both out of this alive.
Gripping his weapon in both hands, he slipped around the tree and entered the clearing. Weeds, vines, and wildflowers adorned this neglected area, creating a haven for snakes and other creatures Slade would rather avoid. He watched his step as he approached the garage. Pressing against the wall, he crept toward the nearest window and peered inside.
Barnes and Mayhew were not in the main area, but the office light remained on. They might still be using the computer. If so, he’d have to draw them out, gain access to the laptop and check the files.
As Slade contemplated the best course of action, a branch cracked within the woods and leaves rustled as if something, or someone, approached. Had they been discovered? The possibility sent a chill down his spine. Every hair on the nape of his neck stood erect.
Skylar.
A fierce protectiveness surged through him, and he shoved away from the wall just as the sound of a gunshot ripped through the air. A bullet hit the garage inches from his head, shattering pieces off the cinderblock. He ducked and ran around the side of the building. Leaning against the wall, he peered past the edge and scanned the woods for any signs of movement.
“Didn’t know about the perimeter alarm did you, Cowboy?” Mayhew’s gritty voice, coming from the woods, held arrogance. “Guess not or you and the woman would’ve been more careful not to trigger it.”
Slade stifled a curse. Barnes must’ve had the system installed since Slade last scouted the woods surrounding the garage. He should have anticipated Barnes would take such measures. Although, Barnes had no legal right to the property, he treated the entire area as his territory.
“Why did you come back?” Mayhew swung his arm blindly around the tree and pulled the trigger three times in a random attempt to hit Slade, but the bullets went wild, one pinging off a piece of scrap metal lying in the weeds. “You want to take us out? Is that it? Keep the woman and the money?”
“You got it half right. The woman’s mine. But we don’t have the money.”
Mayhew’s revolver had two shots left, if that many. If Slade could get him to fire the remaining bullets, he might have a chance to get to Mayhew before he could reload.
“Go ahead. Hide behind the tree. You always were a coward,” Slade goaded as he returned fire. The blast echoed off the rolling hillsides as the bullet smashed into the tree’s bark.
With a cry of indignation Mayhew stepped out, aimed, and fired the remaining shots.
One of the bullets skimmed Slade’s left bicep, slicing flesh. Sucking in a breath, he ground his teeth against the searing pain and remained focused on Mayhew. “You’re out of ammo. Give it up.” He stepped away from the wall, closing in as he aimed at Mayhew’s chest. “Get on your knees. Hands behind your head.”
A challenge sparked in Mayhew’s eyes. “Not going to happen.” He tossed aside the revolver and lunged toward Skylar.
Skylar’s scream pierced the air as she raced into the clearing, heading toward Slade. But Mayhew gained ground fast, his long legs eating up the distance.
Slade took careful aim, but he couldn’t get a clean shot—Mayhew had positioned himself directly behind Skylar.
“Get down!” Slade bellowed, but it was already too late. She wasn’t going to make it.
21
Ike Mayhew grabbed Skylar’s arm, fingers clamping in an iron grip. He yanked her back and pain ripped through her shoulder. She twisted and tugged against him but couldn’t break loose before he snaked a wiry arm around her waist, forcing her back against his chest.
“Don’t come any closer, Cowboy.” He jabbed a steel blade hunting knife—jagged on one side, sleek and sharp on the other—against her side. “I’ll gut her.”
Standing less than fifteen feet away, Slade held his weapon steady. He looked every part the professional; from the way he positioned the gun in his palms, to the way his intense gaze never wavered. “Think about it. You hurt her. I shoot you. Nobody wins.” His lips formed a thin line and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Let. Her. Go.”
“Not a chance.” Stale breath skimmed Skylar’s cheek as Ike leaned close and spoke in her ear. “Stealing Willow Hayworth’s ransom money was a bad idea, sweetheart.”
“I-I don’t know where it is. I didn’t take it.”
Ike increased pressure on the blade. “If that is true, then there’s no reason
to keep you alive.”
“That’s my decision.” Aston cut into the conversation as he stepped around the building, pistol in hand. “Ms. Hart knows exactly where the money is, and she’s going to get it for us.”
Skylar shook her head. “You don’t understand—”
“Oh, but I do. When I suspected Cowboy had let you live, I ran a background check on you to see if you had the necessary skills to steal my money. I’m impressed.” He looked to Slade. “You might be surprised what your little vixen is capable of.”
Skylar felt faint. She didn’t want Slade to find out like this. She should be the one to tell him. She had to do something. Fast.
Ike turned toward Aston. “So, you don’t want me to kill her?”
Taking advantage of Ike’s divided attention, Skylar grabbed his wrist and shoved the knife away. “Slade! Now.” She stepped to the side, hoping to give him a clear shot.
He fired. Blood and tissue splattered from Ike’s calf. Ike dropped the knife and collapsed to the ground. Crying out, he cradled his injured leg.
In a blur of motion, Slade was beside her, tugging her toward the forest. “Move!”
More shots rang out. More near misses. Skylar covered her head with her arms as she ran. Tumbling through thick underbrush, branches scraped and vines tripped. Her ankle twisted at an odd angle as she stepped on a loose rock. But Slade kept her from falling with a firm grip on her upper arm.
“Running will only delay the inevitable.” Aston taunted, his voice growing distant. “I will discover your true identity, Slade. You two will never be safe from me.”
Too late, Skylar realized her mistake. “I’m sorry.” Tears blurred her vision as she stumbled along. “I should’ve never said your name.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Slade assured. “I won’t be able to get to the laptop now. We might as well turn them both in and get this gunshot wound checked out.”
