They’d reached the other side of the tunnel—the part that had never been finished, and now simply sat in ruin.
“We’ve got a problem,” Jordynn told him.
He inched closer, trying to see what she saw. The only thing in view was a pile of rocks. Jordynn nodded her head toward them.
“That’s it,” she said.
“That’s what?”
She shot him an exasperated look. “The problem. Those rocks used to be the part of the path that led out.”
Donovan exhaled and stared up. “Damn.”
He eyed the way back, opened his mouth to ask if she wanted to turn around, but slammed it shut again quickly. From the other end of the tunnel, the echo of angry voices carried through, loud and clear.
Chapter 6
For a panicked moment, Jordynn was sure they’d run out of luck.
If we even had any to begin with.
But in the minuscule amount of light, she could see that Dono had a familiar, stubborn look on his face. That same one he got every time he was backed into a corner. And sure enough, after he glanced around, then up, then around again, he offered her a short nod, then grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the rocks.
“I’m going to give you a boost,” he said into her ear, his words hushed. “I can get you to the top of these rocks, then climb up behind you. You should be able to pull yourself onto what’s left of the landing, then through the opening. If not, I’ll give you another boost.”
“What if you need a boost? I won’t be strong enough to pull you up,” she whispered back.
“I’m taller. I think I can manage from the top of the rocks.”
“You think you can?”
“Jordynn.”
He said her name like a warning. And she didn’t like it.
“You can’t just sacrifice yourself every time things aren’t going smoothly!”
Dono leaned back, dark amusement playing across his features. “I can. So long as we’re being hounded by a group of men who’d like to see us dead.”
“That’s the only thing that’s been happening.”
“Exactly.”
Jordynn narrowed her eyes, but before she could form a retort, Dono bent down, grabbed her by the legs and lifted her into the air. She just barely managed to stifle a yelp.
“I want you to put your knee on my shoulder,” he said, “then grab the most stable thing you can see and pull yourself up.”
Jordynn bit back a comment about not seeing anything that looked even remotely stable and instead did as she was told. She didn’t relish the idea of plummeting to a stony death, but it was far better than option B—getting caught by the men at the other end of the tunnel, who were now shouting about going back to find a flashlight. With her heart somehow simultaneously thundering in her chest and sticking to every inch of her throat, she reached out and grabbed ahold of some rock. And thankfully, the rock held.
“Good,” Dono said. “Now stand on me.”
“Stand on you?”
“Quickly.”
She lifted her foot and placed it gingerly on his shoulder. Then, cringing a little, she pushed her weight down. He didn’t even register the impact. But Jordynn couldn’t take the time to be impressed. She just inhaled and clambered up the rocks.
She could feel Dono behind her, his hands occasionally bumping her as they climbed, his voice carrying up the odd encouragement. The going was short, but it was a strenuous, uphill climb, too. And by the time she reached the ledge near the exit, she wasn’t aware of anything but the all-over burn of exertion and the wheezing in her lungs. When Jordynn pulled herself up to the narrow bit of flat dirt, she was practically seeing stars, and as Donovan’s thick hands appeared near her feet, she could barely push back far enough to make room for him.
“Still alive?” he groaned as his body landed beside hers with a dull thud.
“So far,” she breathed back.
“Was that the hard bit?”
“You tell me.”
“I’d hate to say yes and make a liar of myself.” He let out a chuckle. “Ready for the next bit?”
“No.”
“Let’s do it anyway.”
“Ugh.”
Donovan pushed to a crouch, rested there for a moment, his breaths hard and fast, then stood and offered her his hand. Jordynn took it, grateful for its steadiness. Without it, she probably would’ve just collapsed all over again. And once she was up, she saw that the source of limited light—their escape route—was only a few feet away. Which was good, because the voices in the tunnel were back, and she had no interest in finding out whether or not they’d managed to get themselves a flashlight.
Spurred by the renewed desire to get away, Jordynn moved forward. Then stopped. The opening was there, just around the small bend at the end of the ledge. But the formerly person-size exit was covered with stringy roots. She reached out with her free hand, and one little push told Jordynn it wasn’t going to be pleasant to make their way through.
“No time to think it over,” Dono said.
He pulled her into a protective embrace and held her close as he shoved through the root system, shielding her from the resulting spray of dirt. And in spite of the woody protest snapping against their forceful exit, he didn’t stop moving until they were fully through the mess. Once on the other side, he finally released her. But he didn’t stop moving. As Jordynn coughed and spat out bits of sappy, sticky dust, Dono grabbed every loose branch in sight and piled them in front of the opening. When he was done with that, he rolled an improbably large stone—almost a boulder—to cover his handiwork. Jordynn’s eyes widened. But even then, he wasn’t quite done. He kept going, pulling up several more biggish rocks and depositing them on top of the first one. Up and up, until the pile completely blocked the exit. And finally, with sweat rolling off his brow, he wiped his hands on his jeans and turned back to Jordynn.
Wordlessly, he grabbed her hand again and pulled her along once more.
They trekked out of the small clearing, up the overgrown trail and through woods until they hit the main path. Years ago, they’d hiked the area with relentless thoroughness. It, like the reinforced bridge, had become a place they’d thought of as their own. They knew it all. The best spots for camping, and the areas the seasonal tourists avoided. They’d been through storms and snow and heat waves on those trails. Jordynn thought it was safe to say that they’d learned every inch of the groomed routes. And memorized the not-so-well-maintained ones, too.
And as they moved, it appeared that not much had changed.
Which is why—maybe—when their quick pace soon brought them to a familiar lookout point, high on the hillside, Jordynn felt compelled to pull away. Because in spite of the appearance that it was otherwise, it wasn’t true. Everything had changed.
Dono didn’t seem to notice the downturn of her mind. “Need a second?”
Slowly, Jordynn shook her head. “Not a second.”
He offered her a small, crooked smile. “A full minute?”
“Not that, either.”
His smiled wavered. “What, then?”
“An explanation.”
Now the smile was nonexistent. “Now’s not the time, honey.”
She fixed him with her own flat stare. “Because it won’t ever be the time? Or because you know that if you wait another few seconds, something will interrupt us again? Or is it just that you’re waiting until it’s too late for there to be any time?”
“I already told you—”
“I know. You’re just trying to protect me. Like always. But shouldn’t that be up to me?”
“You want to choose whether or not I get to protect you?” Dono shook his head. “Sorry, Jordynn. I’m not willing to take the chance that you’ll make the wrong deci
sion.”
She threw her hands up. “It’s not your choice!”
“Right now, it is. Let’s get moving.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
He shot her a disbelieving look. “Or what? You’ll stay here and wait for them to dig their way through?”
She met his eyes and held her ground. “I don’t know you any better than I know them, Dono. Ten years. That’s long enough that anything could’ve happened. You could be married. Be a parent. Or be a criminal.”
“I’m not any of those things.”
“Maybe I am, then.”
“Are you?”
“No! But that’s not my point. It’s only that you or I could be. That much time has passed. And even though my heart tells me going with you is the safest option, there’s a little voice in my head that’s telling me to slow down. It’s ordering me to ask you questions and to demand answers before I even think about—” She cut herself off.
And he noticed. “About what?”
About admitting that I never stopped loving you, she thought.
But she refused to say it.
“About trusting you,” she replied instead.
Hurt clouded Dono’s eyes, but when he spoke, his voice was even. “Trust me or don’t. Either way, you have no idea who we’re dealing with.”
“That’s my whole point. I don’t know who we’re dealing with. Or why. And I want to trust you. I really want to. So give me something—anything—to tell me that I can.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Please, Dono.”
“I just can’t.”
Tears formed in her eyes, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop them for the life of her. “Maybe the last ten years have been easier for you than they have for me, I don’t know. But I can’t handle this cluelessness any longer.”
“You think this has been easy for me?”
“I said easier.”
“Hell, Jordynn—”
“You knew I was alive. You could have looked me up anytime you wanted. I thought you were dead. That made part of me die, too. So say whatever you want about how hard it was for you to go—there’s no way it was harder than being here alone.”
His face clouded, and he spun away and took a few steps closer to the path that would lead them down the mountain. And for a second, Jordynn thought he was simply going to leave her there. That he was just going to walk away. And be gone. Again.
Devastation washed over her. She wasn’t sure she could survive going through the loss a second time. She started to call out to him. To admit defeat. But then he stopped and turned back, and her words dried up at the expression on his face. Yes, the hurt was still there. But resolution and determination had joined it. And something else. A raw, dangerous emotion she couldn’t name.
“Leaving was the hardest damned thing I’ve ever done, but I’d do it all over again. Because I have to protect you,” he said roughly. “And I will, whether you like it or not.”
And before she even had time to gasp, he was striding toward her. He closed the gap between them in a heartbeat, and he dragged her body flush against his. Jordynn couldn’t resist the embrace. Couldn’t pull away as he slammed his mouth into hers. And as nerves and adrenaline and relief mixed together, making her pulse race, she realized she didn’t even want to. She needed the release. Needed the reassuring closeness. Needed what she’d been missing for the past ten years. Him.
* * *
Donovan parted Jordynn’s lips with his tongue and claimed her mouth. Reclaimed it. Because it had been his once, a decade earlier.
Mine.
He’d used the word to describe her all those years ago. Almost as often as he’d used the word hers to describe himself.
It had been so right. So fulfilling. A slowly built relationship, founded on that elusive trust she was asking for now.
God, I missed this.
He didn’t realize he’d spoken the words aloud until she answered.
“Me, too, Dono.”
He dragged his hands down to her waist, then lowered them to grip her hips. In a fluid motion—one he’d never quite been able to make as a younger man—he lifted her from the ground. Jordynn’s legs came up to cling tightly to him as he carried her across the small clearing and pressed her to the wide trunk of one of the surrounding trees. Donovan kissed her harder. He drove his hips forward with matching fervor, making her cry out against his mouth.
For a second, he pulled back—just to reassure himself that he hadn’t hurt her. Her eyes opened, though, and all he saw there was heat. Eagerness. A need that thoroughly matched his own.
She’d surrendered, her body giving in to his completely.
Good.
But as quickly as the self-satisfied thought came, Donovan realized it wasn’t good. It wasn’t what he wanted at all. He had no desire to kiss her into submission. What he craved was that partnership they’d formed, ten years earlier. That promise of a future.
The future you walked away from.
He drew in a ragged breath and forced himself to release her to the ground.
“Ask me something,” he commanded.
Her eyes flew open again, and this time they were filled with confusion. “What?”
“Something specific. Before I change my mind about answering.”
For a second, she stared up at him, the only sound her quick inhales and exhales. Then she frowned.
“That sign back there...” she said. “Why did it bother you?”
“The sign?”
Jordynn nodded. “The one by the bridge. When you saw it, you looked...worried.”
“That’s what you want to know?”
“We’re being chased,” Jordynn said. “Hunted. But your face was green back there when you were looking at the sign. So, yeah. I guess it is what I want to know.”
It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting, and maybe it wasn’t even the one she’d intended to ask, but she was right. The sign had worried him.
And the reminder of its existence was like a splash of cold water. Donovan pulled away from Jordynn, his mind back on their current situation.
“What do you know about the proposed development?” he asked.
She shrugged. “The proposal came through a few years ago, when Fryer Development bought the little stretch of land by the bridge.”
“They never followed through on it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because they couldn’t.” She looked at the ground.
“Why not?” Donovan said again.
“You father wouldn’t let them. He never released the site from police investigation.”
“He never released the—God. They declared me dead.”
“I know. But...”
“Closure,” he filled in.
“Or the lack of it.”
Donovan moved away from the trees to position himself in front of the wooden barrier at the edge of the lookout point. He stared out across the expanse of forest and hills, regretting the hell he’d put his father through as much as he regretted what he’d done to Jordynn.
So much hurt in the wake of my attempt to do just the opposite.
He exhaled and asked, “And now that my dad’s gone?”
“Fryer Development petitioned to have the land released,” she replied. “It took a while. Environmental impact studies and stuff. But it’s got the go-ahead now. They want to start developing it next month.”
Donovan swallowed. He was sure that developing the side of the mountain would literally unearth things that needed to stay buried.
“We should get going,” he said.
“Does this mean you aren’t going to answer my question about the sign?” she replied, seemingly immune to the urgency in Donovan’s voice.
He shook his head. “It just means that I have to talk while we walk.”
She cast a doubtful look his way, then bent down to do up her shoelace. Not that he could blame her. He’d been anything but forthcoming. Anything but worth believing. He opened his mouth to say as much, but as she stood, a thin gold chain slipped out from underneath her shirt, and the delicate ring hanging from it made his heart squeeze.
She followed his gaze, then tucked it in, and turned and moved toward the path that would lead them down to the parking lot.
Donovan stared after her for a second, then scrambled to catch up. “You kept it.”
Her reply was soft. “Did you think I’d let it go?”
“I hoped you would.” He shook his head, then corrected the lie. “I wished I could hope you would.”
“I didn’t.”
“Do you remember the night I gave it to you?”
“Yes. You told me it was more than a promise ring. That it was a promise.”
He recalled the sentimental, heartfelt claim well, and all the emotion that went along with it. “And the time capsule, two years later? Do you remember that, too?”
“How could I forget? We were supposed to open it in ten years. But you lost it before we could get around to burying it.”
“Do you remember how I lost it?”
She flicked a puzzled frown in his direction. “Not really. I remember we had a fight about it, after.”
Donovan almost laughed. He’d worked so hard to make sure she didn’t know what had happened that night, but somehow knowing he’d succeeded felt like a letdown.
“The fight started before I lost the time capsule,” he corrected.
Her frown deepened. “It did?”
Donovan nodded. “I saw a light out in the woods. You didn’t see it, and you thought I was making it up to keep you out later.”
Her face finally cleared. “And you insisted on going anyway, and I tried to walk home.”
Last Chance Hero Page 8
