No Chance in Hell

by Jerrie Alexander

  “Now we can get out,” Marcus said, barely getting the words out before Chris had opened her door.

  The officer asked for their identification and checked it against something written in his notebook.

  “I referred DPD to Dalton. Figured he could vouch for us,” Nate said.

  “The driver of the pickup?” Chris asked as Kay moved to stand next to her.

  “He died before the firefighters could cut him out.” The officers passed Marcus’s and Chris’s driver’s licenses back to them.

  “It wasn’t Charles,” Nate said.

  “Do you recognize this man?” The officer handed Chris a driver’s license.

  “No. I’ve never seen him before,” Chris said.

  Marcus looked over her shoulder and studied the young man’s picture. “He’s just a kid.”

  “Barely twenty-two,” the cop confirmed. “At this point, while we think he was following you, there’s no proof. But he sure didn’t want to be questioned. We’ll check his family and friends. See if we can find out why.”

  “Was anyone else hurt?” Chris asked.

  “Not seriously,” the cop said. “A man and woman were transported to the hospital, but their injuries weren’t life threatening. A few minor scrapes for the other two drivers involved.”

  “So we can go?” she asked.

  “Sure thing. We have names and phone numbers.” The officer slipped the dead man’s license into his notebook and walked back down to his patrol car.

  “He was well informed,” Marcus said.

  “I called Dalton. He talked to someone at DPD. Interesting to see how smooth things go when we have the FBI working with us. When you drive away, a patrol car will follow you to the motel.” Nate walked over and put his arm around his wife. “I’m taking Kaycie home. You two should get off the highway.”

  “Talk with you soon.” Marcus held Chris’s door for her, walked around the car, and then got behind the wheel. He checked his rearview mirror and then slowly filtered the car into the still slow-moving traffic. In the distance, a black and white followed. Nobody knew for sure if the danger of being followed had been removed. How many thugs had been hired to keep tabs on Chris?

  He couldn’t lose sight of the threat. Failing wasn’t an option. No way could he let her down.

  ****

  Chris couldn’t shake the visual of the crashed black pickup. The sound of metal crunching, the noise of the sirens, and the news of the young man’s death would stay with her for a long time.

  She had closed her eyes, laid her head back, and tried to keep the images at bay. Anything that might help calm fear that tried to take root and grow. She had to keep it together. Too many people were working hard to ensure her safety. She had to be strong for them.

  Her cell buzzed, startling her. “Very few people have this number.” She fished the phone out of her pocket and checked the screen. “It’s Melanie, one of my Little Sisters. What am I going to tell her if she wants to take in a movie or something? It’s too dangerous to have physical contact with either of the girls.”

  “Talk to her. If you have to, tell you’re going out of town but can be reached by phone.”

  Chris answered, chatting with the young girl who’d been removed from her parents’ custody because of their drug use. When the call ended, Chris felt better.

  “Your side of the conversation was upbeat. I’m guessing all is well.”

  “It’s great news. Melanie made the school’s debate team. She’s got great foster parents. They’re supportive of her activities. All I do is offer a little praise. Sometimes a friendly ear means a great deal to a foster kid.”

  “Speaking with her certainly helped your mood.”

  “It did. I’m supposed to be helping them cope, but I think it’s the other way around.”

  “I’d say you and the girls are lucky to have each other.”

  Chris studied Marcus’s profile. In her opinion, he was stunning. The lines of his face, the determined set of his jaw, his deep-chocolate eyes that could look into your soul, gave him a look of confidence. Yet, he had no idea the effect he had on people.

  She’d teased him that the world shouldn’t be denied a little Marcus. Truth was, the idea of him fathering a child with anyone but her had her stomach tumbling. It just wouldn’t be acceptable.

  Realization smacked into her. She’d done exactly what she feared most. She’d fallen in love with him. Hopelessly and forever, gushy words and all, in love with him. And that just wouldn’t do. Not until she was sure how he felt about her. She’d read that in crises some people turned to each other for comfort. Even after a death in the family, sex could be an affirmation of life. Chris knew her heart, and that didn’t apply here, and Marcus was used to working in crisis mode. He cared for her. How much was the question.

  “Hey. You look like you’re going to open the door and jump.” Marcus’s tone was heavy with concern. “We’re safe for now.”

  Chris realized she had a death grip on the armrest and her seat belt. She made a big show of uncoiling. “Just a little aftershock. So many questions keep running through my mind.”

  “For instance?”

  “Is Charlie following us? What are his plans? Does he plan to torture me like he did those other women?” She’d lied to Marcus, but no way would she admit she was thinking about him.

  “No. He won’t make it past me.” The finality in Marcus’s words scared her.

  “I’m guessing he plans to kill you first.” She had no doubt Marcus would sacrifice himself to keep her safe. It was who he was.

  “If he gets to you, I will be dead, but I don’t plan on getting killed.”

  Marcus pulled up to a stop sign. Chris hadn’t realized they’d traveled so far or that they’d left the freeway. “We’re on the outskirts of town. Are we almost there?”

  “Yeah. I’m double checking that nobody followed us.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes while Marcus watched the road, and then he made a U-turn and got back on the freeway. A few seconds later, he pulled into the lot of a motel and parked close to the entrance. “Not as fancy as the other night, but Kay picked a place where all the doors into the rooms are from the inside. Plus, there’s a restaurant on site.”

  Chris couldn’t imagine being hungry. She waited next to her door while Marcus got out and took the suitcases from the trunk. His gaze was intense as he scanned the area. Dalton had to find Charlie. She couldn’t bear the thought of Marcus dying because of her.

  “Once we’re settled, I want you to tell me what really upset you.”

  She opened her mouth but had no argument. Instead, she smiled and allowed him to guide her inside. Again, he placed his body between her and the street.

  Marcus checked in, making sure the room Kay had reserved was on the first floor.

  “Does it matter?” Chris asked, keeping her voice low.

  “Yeah.” He grinned down at her. “If I have to toss you out a window to run for safety, I’d rather do it from the ground floor.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Got it.” She fell in step beside him and together they walked down the hall. He stepped inside the room, looked around, and then let her enter.

  No matter what happened she’d always be grateful to Marcus. If he cornered her about their relationship, she’d look him straight in his eyes and lie. No way could she tell him how she felt. The next move had to be his.

  She flipped on the light, vowing to make the most of her time with him.

  Chapter 24

  Chris dropped down on the couch, slid off her shoes, and looked at the manila envelope containing her adoption papers.

  Marcus placed the suitcases on a stand and sat on the edge of one of the beds. “You just going to stare at the outside? Aren’t you curious?”

  “Why am I reluctant to open this? There can’t be many surprises left.”

  “You’ll have to look and see.”

  “Sit with me?”

  He joined her on
the couch, reached over and lifted her feet onto his lap. Strong thumbs applied pressure to her arch, and she sighed. “You go ahead,” he said. “I’ll entertain myself.”

  She dumped the contents in her lap and started reading the first document. There was more information than she’d expected. “Interesting. My mother left us at the home but hadn’t actually given us up for adoption. When the Hollands came, they intended to foster a couple of children. Apparently, they changed their minds and decided they wanted to adopt. Before that could happen, my birth mother had to legally relinquish her maternal rights to us. She made us wards of the court. She literally gave all three of us away.”

  “Yet, the Hollands took only two of you.”

  Chris couldn’t imagine her mom and dad leaving Charlie behind. She’d never known them to be cruel, but that single act was beyond her understanding. She read on. “Holy crap. This is important.”

  “What is it?”

  “Charlie’s last name was different than mine and Chelsea’s. It says so right here in the document our birth mother signed for the state. Christine Shelby, Chelsea Shelby, and Charles Bridger. Dalton is checking out men with the wrong name.”

  “I can fix that.” Marcus called Dalton and gave him the news. “I’d better tell Nate, too.”

  Chris read on, half-listening to Marcus’s conversations. His tone softened, and she assumed Kay had answered the phone. “Yeah. Bridger.” He spelled the name out loud. “Tell Nate when he gets out of the shower.”

  Chris handed him the papers. “There’s nothing else of interest here.”

  “What else did you expect to learn?” He leaned forward and rubbed her calves.

  “I’ll probably never find the answer to the one question that will haunt me forever. Why split up our family? Mom and Dad were brilliant, educated, and kind. Yet, they left a little boy behind. One who’d lost his mother and then his sisters.” She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. “In my wildest dreams, I can’t imagine how he felt when we drove away. For a nine-year-old, the pain must’ve been unbearable.” She swiped the back of her hand across her cheeks.

  “I wish I could answer that for you.” Suddenly, her feet were on the floor, and Marcus was next to her. He pulled her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms. “It’s okay to cry.”

  Chris couldn’t shake the image of a young Charlie from her mind. A vision of a broken and rejected child would haunt her forever. A child who’d endured all sorts of atrocities and had grown up seeking revenge. She had no idea how long Marcus held her or how long she cried, but his stomach growling pulled her back to the present.

  “You’re hungry,” she said into his neck. Closing her eyes, she inhaled, soaking in his scent and hoping to absorb some of his strength.

  “I’ll eat later.”

  “I hardly ever cry. My dad believed shedding tears didn’t create solutions.” She brushed away the lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead and kissed him. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime. Was this what had you so spooked in the car?”

  “I was thinking how I hope no one else dies because of me.”

  “Chris—”

  “No. It’s true. I get that I’m not to blame. No way could I keep a promise to go back for Charlie. But somebody is responsible for what happened to him.”

  “I’m not trying to sound callous, but you have to keep your perspective here. Do you have any idea how many kids go through bad foster homes? Or how many suffer abuse from adults? Thank God, they haven’t all snapped.”

  “Of course you’re right. My Little Sisters are perfect examples. They will go on to lead productive lives, not because of me, because of something good inside them. But Charlie never had a chance.” She slid off Marcus’s lap and stood. “Enough. Let’s figure out something for your dinner.”

  “Chris, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

  She scrubbed her hands over her face. “I know. And in my heart, I get it. My brother made his choices.”

  “You need to eat, too. How about I order pizza?”

  “I’ll do it.” She went after her cell and looked up the nearest place that delivered. “What do you want for toppings?”

  “Anything you eat.”

  Chris made the call, ordering pepperoni, Italian sausage, and bell peppers. “They’re running behind. The pizza should be here in forty-five minutes.”

  “No problem. I’m going to take a shower.” Marcus stood and walked toward the bathroom.

  He’d tried to console her, made an effort to reason with her, and she’d responded badly.

  “Marcus?”

  He turned and said nothing.

  “Is there room for two?”

  The corners of his mouth lifted as he walked closer. “You bet.”

  All she could see was a sliver of his bare chest. Her hands itched to slide across the hard plane of skin, to stroke his shoulders and arms. Her mouth watered at the thought.

  He walked into her until his entire body was flush with hers. He pushed her hair off her neck, kissed her behind the ear, catching her earlobe with his teeth. His hands covered her breasts, causing them to strain against the lace bra. Bolts of lightning couldn’t burn any hotter than his touch. Chill bumps raced down her arms, while at the same time, liquid fire rushed through her blood.

  Marcus’s erection pressed into her, making it difficult for her to think of anything other than how wonderful he felt. “We don’t have a lot of time, but we should probably rinse off.”

  They scattered their clothes one piece at a time, leaving a marked trail to the bathroom. Chris stepped onto the bath mat and held out her hand. Her gaze drifted across his body. Long firm legs, trim hips and thighs, but it was his chest that made her mouth water.

  He held her grasp and pulled her into his arms. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

  Chris pulled her gaze from his chest up to meet his. Beautiful wasn’t a word she’d use to describe herself, but the way he looked at her made her feel like the most gorgeous woman on earth.

  Lust had darkened his eyes to almost black. His mouth crashed down on hers, demanding entry. His tongue probed, warring with hers for position. He wrapped her hair around his hand and pulled her head back. Kissing his way down, he nipped her nipple then lavished attention on it with his tongue.

  Chris’s body was on fire. Her skin burned everywhere he touched and ached for him everywhere he hadn’t. Need spun out of control.

  “No shower,” she managed to say. “Bed.”

  “Right.” He flashed a bright smile, reached in and turned off the water.

  Chris wasn’t sure how she wound up on the bed amidst all the kissing and touching. All she knew was Marcus had a condom in his hand. Impatient to touch him, she reached over and removed the packet from him. “Let me.”

  She took her time, wrapped her fingers around his erection, and marveled as the velvety steel hardened even more at her touch. Slowly, she rolled their protection down his length.

  “You’re killing me,” he hissed, pulling her down on the mattress.

  His hand slid between her legs, but she stopped him. “No waiting this time. No foreplay. I need to feel you inside me. Now.”

  He wedged his hips between her thighs, and she opened her legs wider, offering him everything she had. He entered her, and she lifted her hips, taking him deeper. Chris was lost in the emotion boiling up from deep inside and the passion begging for release. For now, there was no killer. No mystery to solve. No end to her love for the man in her arms. She tried to memorize every inch of silky skin and every hard muscle underneath.

  Marcus stopped and lay very still, watching her face. Then he began a slow and steady movement. Claiming what was already his.

  ****

  Marcus, spent and sweating, knew he had to be crushing Chris. Knew he should at least roll off to her side. They might have just had the shortest lovemaking session on record, but his orgasm had to have registered on the Richter scale. Somewhere along the way, hi
s heart had left his body. He was fairly sure it had taken up residence next to hers.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled into her neck. “I’ll move.” He tried to push up on his forearms, but Chris locked her legs and arms around him.

  “No. Don’t go. Stay where you are for a few more minutes.”

  Shit. He distinctly heard tears in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the woman he’d fallen in...really? Really. He loved her. When this was over, he’d figure out a way to convince her they should be together.

  The knock on the motel room door made both of them jump. The pizza. Marcus tossed the condom in the trash and quickly slid on his jeans. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand. “Where’s your pistol?”

  “In my purse on the coffee table. Do you think—?”

  “You can never be too safe.” He went to the door, bent down, and then looked through the peephole. “No pizza. It’s the desk clerk.”

  Chris had slipped on her jeans and was buttoning her blouse. He fished out her gun and handed it to her. The knock came again, only this time louder.

  “Yeah?” he called out, without opening the door. “Anybody gets past me, you shoot the son of a bitch.” He pointed to the bed, waiting until she stood next to it out of the way.

  “You got a message to call Nate,” the voice from the hallway said.

  “Will do. Thanks.” Marcus watched through the peephole as the guy shook his head and walked away.

  Chris handed Marcus his cell. He sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him. “You might as well hear the conversation.”

  Nate answered on the first ring, “Answer your damn cell. You scared the shit out of me.”

  “Sorry, I was in the other room.”

  “Dalton ran the driver of the black pickup through the system. Local thug with a handful of arrests. Nothing big enough to warrant a lengthy stay in Huntsville State Prison. DPD will dig deeper and get back to us.”

  “We figured Chris’s brother had help.”

  “I called Tomas. He’ll get involved. Make sure the communication stays open. I wasn’t worried, but I think he needs to stay involved.”