“You need to go,” Jordynn said.
“We’re ready,” Sasha replied, then paused and frowned. “Wait. We do?”
“Quickly.”
“You can’t stay here, Jo.”
Jordynn shook her head. “I won’t. I’ll get out as soon as I can. But can’t go with you.”
“Why not?”
Because I have to warn Dono that whatever upper hand he thinks he has...he doesn’t really have at all.
But she couldn’t say that aloud, so she settled for “It’s too complicated to explain right now.”
“Complicated? Don’t you think that word might be a little inadequate?”
“Maybe,” Jordynn conceded. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
The doorbell rang twice in quick succession, and Reed stepped toward Sasha.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said, “but I do think we should listen.”
A loud thump made Sasha jump, and Jordynn couldn’t help but cringe.
“Go,” she urged.
Sasha’s face crumbled, but she gave Jordynn a quick sideways hug, then handed over the shoes. “Promise me you’ll stay safe.”
“I promise you I’ll try.” Jordynn cringed again, this time with an awareness of how much she sounded like Dono.
“Okay.”
In the seconds it took for Jordynn to slip the shoes on her feet, the closest thing she had to a family was on its way out the door. And she was arming herself with a gun she didn’t know how to use.
* * *
“Again,” Donovan ordered roughly.
Ivan shot him a calm—but still unimpressed—look. “I can only bang so many times.”
Donovan tapped the gun against his thigh emphatically. “And you haven’t reached the limit yet. I told you to try again.”
“This isn’t going to work out in your favor.”
Donovan ground his teeth together.
The man had told him on repeat that he wouldn’t find what he was expecting on the other end of this address, adding a few times that he wouldn’t like it, either.
And Donovan had to admit that when they’d initially pulled up to the Four Tops area and he’d spotted the rows of clean, middle-class homes, he’d questioned if they were in the right spot. After all, what kind of rich property developer lived so far below his means?
The expression on Ivan’s face now, though—expectant, a little too self-assured—was enough to confirm that whatever the reason might be, the other man was hiding something.
“Do it,” Donovan said.
Ivan lifted his fist yet again, then slammed it against the door and raised an eyebrow. Though the noise was thunderous, it didn’t bring anyone to the door.
“I don’t think anyone’s home,” the other man stated.
“Or they’re not answering. Hit it again.”
Donovan leaned sideways and eyed up the window. He could swear he saw a flash of movement inside, and he suddenly knew why the owner of the Haven Corporation would choose to live here, in one of his own houses. So he could hide in plain sight.
Not for much longer.
“Break it down,” he commanded.
“That seems like the kind of thing that’s going to draw attention that neither of us wants,” Ivan pointed out.
“I don’t care.”
“How do you propose I do it, then?”
He’s stalling, Donovan realized. He saw that flash, too.
With a growl, he shoved his weapon in his waistband, took hold of the other man’s collar and lifted his foot. He aimed a solid kick at the space just below the handle. The frame heaved. Donovan took a step back, then aimed again.
Before his second kick hit the mark, though, the door opened on its own. Donovan crouched down defensively, using Ivan as a shield. The front entryway was dark and empty, and there was no sign of whoever had opened the door.
He drew in a breath, lifted his gun and yelled, “Show yourself!”
The sentence barely made it out of his mouth before he froze, stunned. Because the person who stepped in view was Jordynn, her shaking hands pointing a gun straight at him.
Chapter 12
Donovan didn’t know what he’d been expecting to find inside the house, but it wasn’t a familiar tumble of wild red hair, insanely blue eyes and big shiny weapon.
Clearly, neither had Ivan.
“What the hell is she doing here?” the other man said.
It was a good question, but there was no way Donovan was going to admit that he was just as curious. So he just released Ivan’s collar and gave him another satisfying shove instead, and then issued an order to go inside.
Jordynn stepped back to make room, and Donovan pressed his weapon into Ivan’s back. As he guided the other man through the hall in search of a good place to interrogate him, he was vaguely aware that the general decor didn’t jive with what he’d expected. Framed pictures hung on the walls, and the house had a messy, lived-in feel. Nothing about it screamed of a reclusive millionaire trying to cover his own rear end.
Donovan forced himself not to think about it. He was sure he was right.
No time to worry about the significance of family pictures.
He pushed Ivan to the living room and pressed him to a sitting position on an overstuffed chair, then positioned himself on the coffee table across from the man.
“Where is he, Ivan?”
The older man smiled. “Where is who?”
“Cut the crap.”
“They’re gone,” Jordynn interjected.
“Who is?” Donovan asked, and she swung toward him, making him wince as her gun found his chest again. “Could you not point that at me?”
Her hands dropped, then lifted back toward Ivan. “Sorry.”
“Who’s gone?” he asked again.
“I don’t know where Ivan told you he was taking you, but this is Sasha’s house.”
For a second, Donovan thought he’d heard wrong. “Sasha?”
Jordynn nodded. “And her family.”
Then it clicked. Jordynn’s phone. Ivan’s threat. The entry in the address book hadn’t been anything but a clever decoy. Donovan’s temper flared, and he shot Ivan a furious glare.
“You’re a real son of a—”
“I told you it wasn’t what you expected.” Ivan was smug.
“You let me try to break down the damned door in a house with kids in it.”
“I tried to warn you.”
Donovan eyed the other man. Something isn’t right.
“It doesn’t matter now, anyway,” Jordynn told them both. “Sasha and her family got out. And they’re not coming back until this is over.”
“You think you’re pretty damned smart,” Ivan said. “But you don’t have a clue how far in over your head you’ve gotten.”
“Enlighten us,” Donovan suggested darkly.
Instead of answering, Ivan turned his self-satisfied gaze toward Jordynn. “You might want to ask your boyfriend what he could’ve done to avoid all of this in the first place.”
Renewed guilt, thick and sour, washed over Donovan. And it was the gut-wrenching feeling that slowed him down when, a moment later, the siren-free but oh-so-recognizable flash of lights—red/blue, red/blue—burst through the curtains. Some well-meaning neighbor had clearly called the police.
And though Donovan was distracted by his own remorse, Ivan’s reaction, on the other hand, was quick. He leaped up from the couch, feinting toward Donovan, then diving at Jordynn instead. He overpowered her easily. Even as fast as Donovan recovered from the dupe, even as swiftly as he was able to lift his weapon, Ivan had twisted Jordynn into a parody of an embrace. A deadly one. The gun was still in her hand, but the other man had his fin
gers closed on top, and together, they pressed the barrel to her temple.
“Lower your gun, Mr. Grady, or your girlfriend will be committing a horrific act of self-harm,” Ivan said.
Donovan swallowed. “You won’t fire with the cops outside.”
“Won’t I?”
A half a dozen reasons for the other man to not shoot Jordynn right that second flew through Donovan’s mind. But all of them paled in comparison to the possibility that he might be wrong. Even a slim risk wasn’t worth it.
Ivan read his face perfectly. “I want you to hand over your weapon. Slowly, of course, and butt end first. Keep your other hand up. Put it on your head, if it makes this feel more official. And remember...all you have to do is bump me the wrong way, and bang.”
Wishing he could do just about anything else, Donovan turned the gun as instructed, then stepped toward Ivan, who—without even the hint of a misstep—took the weapon and tucked it into his waistband.
“All right,” said the other man. “My guess is that we have less than a minute before those cops get to the door. And less than five before they decide if they have probable cause to enter. I want to be out the back door before either of those things happens. So step in front of me. Move quickly and move quietly. And don’t trip. I’d hate for my finger to slip and spoil things for all of us.”
Donovan obeyed, and the only sound as they moved from one end of the house to the other was the heart-rending whimper that escaped from Jordynn’s lips.
* * *
The air outside was impossibly still. From the backyard, the flashing lights were invisible. The neighbors’ homes were dark and quiet. All of it was directly at odds with the way Donovan’s mind raced in search of a solution. A way to take them back to safety. He couldn’t believe he’d let Ivan get the upper hand again. At least twice now, he’d underestimated the man’s abilities.
Or maybe you’re just overestimating your own.
As quickly as the disparaging thought came, Donovan shoved it aside. He sure as hell couldn’t afford to drown in self-loathing. He might not have dug way into this mess ten years ago, but he’d chosen to come back. Chosen to bring himself back into Jordynn’s life. She was counting on him to make sure they got out alive.
So do it, he silently commanded as they stepped from the patio onto the grass.
His eyes flicked around. The layout here was similar to the one from the show home in the other community. A small, square yard, fenced on either side. Only two options for escape—up one side of the house, or up the other. Which wouldn’t matter anyway. Not unless luck went their way.
I need something—anything—to draw Ivan’s attention away from Jordynn, Donovan thought.
The stillness, though, seemed to tell him it wasn’t likely.
And then it happened. Luck favored him, just a tiny bit.
In the distance, a dog barked. Donovan saw Ivan’s head lift in surprise. The other man’s arm lowered, and with it, the gun. At the same second, Jordynn slipped on the patio. One knee buckled, and her body dropped. And the scant few inches between Jordynn’s head and the weapon—for the scant few seconds they existed—were exactly the window Donovan needed.
He tossed an elbow to the side, slamming it straight into Ivan’s stomach. As the other man bent over in pain, Donovan went for the gun. Vaguely, he noticed that Jordynn had slid sideways and hit the ground. Her eyes were open, and she looked a little stunned. He wished he had time to do something about it, but the man in his grasp commanded his full attention.
They swung back and forth, locked in a struggle as silent as the evening. One cry would draw the attention of the police and bring them around the house.
Ivan was swinging his arm wildly, trying to dislodge Donovan’s hold. Or maybe just trying to get to the trigger. Either way, Donovan wasn’t going to let it happen. He kept his hand closed tightly on Ivan’s wrist.
The other man drew in a hissed breath, then aimed his head at Donovan’s chin.
Donovan leaned out of the way, and Ivan’s hair barely grazed him—but the backward movement was enough to make him partially dislodge his hold. Silently cursing his own mistake, Donovan fought to regain his grasp on Ivan’s wrist. Instead, he knocked the weapon loose. It skidded across the concrete, then disappeared under the low wooden deck. Donovan followed the path with his eyes, then moved to go after it. He stopped quickly, though, when he realized Ivan wasn’t doing the same. The other man was reaching toward his back.
The other gun, Donovan remembered.
He pounced. Ivan stumbled out of the way, then tried for the weapon again. Donovan reached him just as he drew it from his waistband. For the second time, he managed to get his palm on Ivan’s fingers. He squeezed. Hard. The move kept the other man from reaching the trigger, but it earned him a knee directed for his groin, too. Donovan spun to the side and took it in the hip instead.
He bent down and drove his shoulder into Ivan’s chest. Together, they flew across the patio and landed on the grass. But nothing louder than a grunt came out of either of their mouths.
Donovan rolled, in charge for a moment. Then Ivan lifted his hips, twisted and flipped him over. The other man lifted their joined hands, then smashed them to the ground.
Donovan bit down so hard that he tasted blood. And for about three seconds, he thought he might lose the battle.
C’mon, c’mon. Donovan willed the universe to toss him another favor.
It was Jordynn who came through for him. One moment he was lying on the ground, his grip on the gun weakening, his other arm flailing to gain a hold on Ivan’s neck. The next, he was staring up at her pretty freckles, while she stood over him with a garden rake in her hands.
Donovan rolled to his knees and pushed himself up, both an apology and an expression of gratitude on his lips. The words died on his lips as Ivan groaned beside him. He spun just in time to see the other man pulling himself across the lawn toward the discarded gun.
No.
Donovan reacted automatically. He threw his body into Ivan’s, crushing the man beneath his full weight. The career criminal collapsed underneath him. Ivan’s hand, though, had already reached the mark.
Reacting instinctively, Donovan tightened his arms around the other man’s waist, then pulled them both up. With a heave that strained every muscle he had, he stood, with Ivan still in his thick-fingered hold. He strode forward and smashed them together into the house.
Then his plan went awry. As they hit, Ivan’s hand flew up and hit the exterior wall in just the wrong way. The gun discharged. The shot echoed through the night, and both of them froze as the bullet cracked into one of the eaves above them. And holding still turned out to be a mistake.
The thud of the shot hitting wood turned into a crack. The crack became a drawn-out creak. Then a chunk of wood fell from above and smacked against Donovan’s temple hard enough to make his vision swim. He lifted a hand, trying to sort out the ringing inside from the cacophony of everything that was happening around him.
Shouts.
Thumps.
Jordynn, saying his name.
Ivan, snarling something incomprehensible, and turning toward the sound of boots hitting the ground.
Then a wave of dizziness hit, and Donovan found himself blocking out everything in favor of trying to simply stay on his feet.
* * *
“Dono!” Jordynn kept her voice low, but it was the fourth time she’d said it, and he had yet to straighten up and look her way.
She knew they were seconds away from getting caught. And Ivan’s reminder—remember what happens if you talk to the cops—before his sudden and strange stride in the cops’ direction made her very nervous. The fact that the cops called out Ivan’s name when they spotted him...that was a whole other worry.
Jordynn reached out and put her palm on Dono�
�s elbow. He swayed.
Damn, damn, damn.
The big chunk of debris had to have hit him harder than she thought.
“We need to go,” she said.
She slung an arm across his waist, then lifted his hand and pulled it to her own shoulder. Though he leaned on her a little, he thankfully carried most of his own weight. But every time Jordynn glanced his way, his eyes were closed. She decided she’d have to worry about his overall well-being later. For now, she just had to get them to immediate safety.
Careful to keep close to the edge of the house, she moved to the other side of the yard. The direction opposite to the one Ivan had headed. She held Donovan close, hugging both him and the wall, and slid along the full length of the building.
“Hang on,” she said when they reached the corner.
She positioned Dono against the exterior wall, prayed that he wouldn’t simply collapse and leaned around the edge. She could see the police car—still only one, in spite of the shot fired. She could see also that a few neighbors had turned on their lights. Likely, they were peering outside curiously. Her gaze slid up the street to the car. At least it was far enough away that no one would be paying attention to it. But that also meant it was far enough away that it was going to require some effort to get to.
Quickly, Jordynn mapped the fastest route that would also have the most cover.
The right side of the house to the overgrown mess of hedges on the edge of the property.
The police car parked beside the driveway.
Three minivans in succession.
A flower-covered bush just past those.
And that would get them six houses up. Just two away from the vehicle.
And after that? Jordynn shoved down the question with a dismissive reply. We’ll worry about that later.
She moved back to Dono and lifted his arm over her shoulders again. “You ready?”
He lifted his lids and gave her a sloppy nod. “Okay.”
“We can do this,” she said.
She was unsure if she was telling him, or if she was telling herself. And she really didn’t have time to think about it. They had to hurry.
Last Chance Hero Page 15
