She drew in a breath, pulled Dono out of the cover of the house and directed them toward their first checkpoint. The walk seemed agonizingly slow. With each step, Jordynn expected a door to fling open and a voice to call out and give them away. But except for the continued flash of red and blue, the night remained still. She couldn’t hear anything but her own increasingly labored breathing and the light tread of Donovan’s boots as he shuffled over the driveway.
This is good, she told herself. Quiet is good.
As they reached the shrubs, she hazarded a glance toward Sasha’s house. The police and Ivan remained out of sight.
Also good.
She tugged Dono along to the squad car, but didn’t risk stopping there. She moved them quickly to the row of minivans, then to the flowers, where she paused again to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. There was no telltale flick of anyone’s blinds. No tripped motion lights.
Now, though, they’d have to cross the street. It would mean a good ten seconds of complete exposure.
No choice.
She slipped out from under Dono, threaded her fingers through his and said, “Run.”
She didn’t give him a chance to protest, and she didn’t wait long enough to give herself a chance to think about whether or not his current condition would stop him from being able to actually keep up. She just squeezed his hand and bolted out into the street. And thankfully, his grip stayed true all the way. When they reached the nondescript sedan unscathed and unnoticed—and together—Jordynn had to fight back tears of relief. She swung open the passenger door for Dono.
“Chivalrous,” he said. “But I think that was my job.”
“We can fight about gender roles after we’re far away from here.”
She helped him into the car, then rushed around to the driver’s side, climbed in and reached an arm over toward him.
“The keys?” she said.
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “Ivan has them.”
Jordynn’s heart dropped. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah.” Dono’s head lifted as he shrugged, then dropped back down.
Jordynn tapped the steering wheel and eyed the street nervously. From where the car sat, she could see both the police vehicle and the edge of Sasha’s front yard. But she couldn’t see Ivan or the cops. And even if she had been able to, she couldn’t exactly walk up and demand the keys.
She shot another surreptitious glance Dono’s way. He looked rough. Eyes closed, breathing shallow, head now pressed to the window. Chances were good that he had a mild concussion. Jordynn didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be on the move, but she didn’t like the idea of trying to wait out whatever Ivan was up to with the police, either. She doubted they’d be able to maintain an advantage. Especially since the cops clearly knew him well enough to issue him a friendly greeting. And no matter what the nature of the criminal’s association with them really was, she was sure she and Dono should be running in the other direction.
She eyed the street once again. Could they hide somewhere close? Take a chance and go back into Sasha’s house?
I hate this, she realized, knowing now why Dono was so adamant that they finish what he’d started rather than running from it.
“Screwdriver.”
Dono’s voice made her jump.
“What?”
“Screwdriver. If you get me one, I can break off the ignition cover and use it to get this thing started.”
Hope buoyed Jordynn’s heart, but only for a second. “Where am I going to get a screwdriver at three in the morning...subtly?”
“Check the trunk. If not there, maybe a neighbor’s garage.”
Jordynn bit her lip to keep from pointing out that she had zero experience breaking and entering. She’d try the trunk and hope for the best. And if it didn’t pan out...she’d worry about it only then.
Wordlessly, she depressed the release lever for the trunk, then hopped back out of the car. She dug around quickly, hoping she looked like a woman rooting through her own trunk rather than a woman on the run, getting ready to highjack a car. But there wasn’t much inside to look through anyway. A few loose pieces of paper. A flashlight and an unnerving pile of rope. But no screwdriver. Not even an emergency roadside kit.
With her nerves roaring, Jordynn reached up to shut the trunk lid. But she paused as a flash of something silvery—lodged in beside the wheel well—caught her eye. Hoping it would be a screwdriver, she reached in and grabbed it. When she pulled it out of its hiding place, though, she saw that it wasn’t the much-needed tool at all. It was a pair of scissors.
“Dammit.”
She moved to close the trunk. A sharp rap on the back windshield stopped her. Dono had managed to twist his body around, his long arm pushed all the way from the center console to the rear of the vehicle, and he was pointing emphatically at the scissors.
“What?” Jordynn held up the scissors, and he nodded. “Seriously?”
But she wasn’t going to argue. Time was ticking by far too quickly. She shut the trunk, then made her way back to the front seat, where she handed the scissors to Dono.
“Hold on to the ignition like this,” he said, and pinched his fingers on the silver mechanism to show her what he meant. “Don’t let it move until I say.”
Obediently, Jordynn positioned her fingers in the way he’d demonstrated. Dono gave her wrist a squeeze, then took the pointed blades, opened them and jammed one blade into the narrow opening. He wiggled and pushed until a tiny click sounded.
“Turn,” he said.
Doubting it would have any effect, Jordynn twisted her thumb. And the engine came to life, and stayed that way even after Dono pulled the scissors away.
“It’s that easy?” she asked incredulously.
“Old car, old tricks.” He smiled, then sobered and nodded toward the road.
A quick look in the side-view mirror afforded Jordynn a flash of navy blue. The cops were back at their own vehicle, and Ivan was nowhere to be seen.
“Better get moving,” Dono said.
And Jordynn didn’t have to be told twice.
Chapter 13
Donovan leaned the seat back and took the ride one breath at a time. His temple throbbed, and the urge to close his eyes was so strong that it was almost overwhelming. He knew, though, the last thing he should do was fall asleep. Watching the scenery as it passed and changed—from the tidy rows of new houses, to the older neighborhoods with their wide laws, to the sparser, spread-out properties that bordered on farmland—lulled him even further, and his eyes threatened to close a few times before he realized he needed something else to occupy him before he fell asleep.
Conversation.
But when he tossed a glance Jordynn’s way, he couldn’t think of the right thing to say. He had to admit he felt guilty for letting her take charge. It wasn’t that he minded handing over the reins for a while—he wasn’t an egomaniac and he had no issues with a woman in control. It was the simple fact that he wanted to protect her at all costs. Head injury or no head injury. So having to rely on her instead pricked at his sense of heroism.
But a large part of him was impressed, too, at how well she’d come through and how well she was still holding up.
He eyed her again.
Her face was determined. Remarkably calm. Beautiful, as always.
Impressed was definitely not the right word. What he felt was far more poignant and lasting.
She caught his stare and offered him a small smile that made his heart expand even more.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Hey there yourself,” she said back.
“You got a destination in mind, or are you just driving as fast and far away as pos
sible?”
She blew out a breath that made her hair ruffle. “I don’t know. I was thinking of the Rio Motel.”
“The Rio?”
“If you don’t mind sidestepping town for just a bit.”
A slight blush crept up her cheeks, and Donovan couldn’t help but grin. That particular spot held more than a few hot-and-bothered memories for him. For both of them. Located in the next town over—just ten miles from Ellisberg—it was a run-down place that looked like it was one step above having rent-by-the-hour status. Ten years ago, it had been the perfect spot for them to be alone. Away from the scrutiny of his cop father. Away from her mother’s long-term battle with cancer. Away from everything but each other.
“Sounds about perfect,” Donovan said, failing to keep his voice neutral.
Jordynn’s color deepened. “I’m just not sure how we’re going to pay for it.”
“Pocket change?” Donovan teased.
“Very funny.”
“Seriously...if we dig through the seats...”
She sighed. “I’m pretty sure that’s not going to cut it. And I’m guessing you aren’t carrying around a ton of cash?”
“Sadly, no.”
“And a credit card—not that mine is very helpful when it’s sitting in my purse at home—would be out of the question.”
“Too traceable,” he agreed, then strummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking. Then he paused and said, “Carlos Hernandez.”
She only looked puzzled for a second before her face cleared. “Your friend with the boxing gym?”
“Mmm-hmm. Keeping people hidden is one of his specialties. When we get to the Rio, we can give him a call. He’ll set up payment under a name that can’t be tied back to him or us.”
“You trust him?”
“Implicitly.”
“The Rio it is, then.”
As she flicked on the turn signal and took the turnoff that would lead to the short bit of highway between the two towns, Donovan offered her a sly, sideways grin.
“Should we ask if room eleven is available?” he asked.
His question made Jordynn jerk the car sideways, and Donovan laughed, which earned him a sharp pain at the base of his neck and a concerned look from Jordynn.
“Your head!” she exclaimed.
Donovan shrugged it off with another smile. “Been hit harder by worse people.”
“Not exactly reassuring.”
“Sorry.”
She was silent for a second before replying. “Me, too.”
Donovan frowned, sensing she meant more than the momentary loss of control over the car. “You’re sorry?”
“I just... I guess I wasn’t thinking about how all this affected you. And I didn’t make it easy for you to walk back into my life.”
Donovan frowned harder, which made his brow ache. “Why would you have made it easy? There’s nothing easy about what’s going on.”
“I know. But once I got over the fact that you weren’t a ghost, I could’ve given you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Didn’t you?”
She laughed a short little laugh. “I guess you didn’t notice the part where I tried to run away from you. Or the fact that I haven’t accepted a single thing you’ve said at face value. Or how I’ve been questioning every move you’ve made since you saved my life. I’m sorry, Dono. I spent all of ten minutes trying to keep Sasha from figuring out what was going on while still keeping her and her family safe, and I felt terrible the whole time. As much as I wanted to tell her what we were really up against, I couldn’t. I can’t wrap my head around how you did it.”
He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Simple. Knowing you were safe kept me going.”
“But how could you know? You weren’t here.”
She sounded more tired than angry, and it magnified Donovan’s guilt all the more. He stared out the windshield for a moment, searching the horizon as though it would give him an answer that didn’t seem false. He tugged absently on his ear, then settled on telling her the truth—no matter how contrived it came across.
“I checked the papers, every week,” he said. “No matter where I was, I made sure to look up Ellisberg online. I plugged in your name, too, whenever I looked. That’s how I knew when you mom died. I saw other things, too. Like when you graduated from the community college. I went out for a celebratory drink that night. I saw everything I could. And other than that...I was damned sure I’d just know if something went wrong. I always did when we were together, so why would it be any different when we were apart?”
Jordynn fixed him with a stare—so long that he was surprised they didn’t crash—then turned her attention back to the road as she asked, “Is that why you came back now? Because you sensed it?”
He shook his head. “Not quite.”
“What, then?”
“For about two weeks I felt like someone was watching me,” he told her. “I had that creepy feeling between my shoulder blades every time I went out. I kept brushing it off, telling myself it’d just been too long since I moved, and that I was being paranoid. I reminded myself about a hundred times that ten years had gone by, and that no one knew I was alive, so no one would bother looking for me. But then I got a piece of registered mail.”
Donovan paused to clear his throat of the thick, oily feeling in it. All he succeeded in doing was sending it down to his stomach. He forced himself to go on.
“It was two pictures. One was a still frame of me, at the funeral. The other was something else. Blown up and full recognizable.”
“Was it me?” Jordynn interjected, fear clear in her voice.
“No. A key.”
“A key?”
“Our key.”
Her gaze found him for a second, understanding registering on her face. For years—since she was a teenager, actually—Jordynn had kept a wide, flat key hanging on the back of the door to her room. Donovan had teased her about it all the time, asking if it was the key to her heart, or the key to her success, or if she was just being deliberately mysterious. One day, she’d finally told him to shove it, saying that the key was just a key and she only kept it because she liked the way it looked and thought maybe the box it opened would come in handy someday. But when she’d shown him the metal container, the idea of the time capsule had been born. They’d spent a year filling it with keepsakes. All ready to be buried on the night he witnessed the murder.
“When I got the photo,” Donovan said, “I knew that itch I’d been feeling all week was real. I contacted Carlos, got on the next bus and here I am.”
“You didn’t think maybe they’d already...got me?”
“I would’ve come anyway. But I knew it was just a threat. And before you ask, no, not just based on a feeling. They sent me similar stuff ten years ago.”
She slowed the car as they approached the exit for the roadside motel. “What do you mean?”
He waited until she’d navigated the vehicle to the parking lot before replying. The answer was one he’d rather not share. But also one he didn’t think he could keep a secret anymore. Not if he wanted to truly rebuild the trust between them.
“The pictures started a few days after I healed from the first beating Ivan’s men gave me,” he said. “The photos were of small things. A pair of shoes. A bracelet. That key. They were your things, honey. And none of them would’ve meant a thing to anyone else. But to me... I knew the shoes were the ones that your mom gave you for graduating.”
“I hated them,” Jordynn said softly as she pulled into the lot and put the car in Park. “But I couldn’t tell her because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”
“You kept them in the back of your closet, still in the box,” Donovan agreed. “And the bracelet...it was the one I bought from that kid who was turning garbage in
to art. You weren’t ever able to wear it because it turned your wrist green.”
“But I kept that, too.”
“I know. You pinned it to the corkboard by your desk.” He met her eyes. “They were threats. All of them. Little reminders that they knew who you were and what you meant to me. And even more than that, they were telling me that they could find out whatever they wanted to find out.”
Jordynn shivered. “And you did...what?”
“I confronted them. I took the pictures and went straight up to the worksite Haven was at. I demanded to speak with Ivan, and I told him if he came anywhere near you, I’d kill him myself.”
“I’m guessing he didn’t take you seriously?”
Donovan’s mouth tipped up with sardonic amusement. “I was a hundred-and-thirty-pound kid with a pre-existing chip on my shoulder because of how things were with my dad. They held all the cards and knew my weakness.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“And that’s when they beat you up again?”
“That night. They dragged me out of my bed. Beat the hell out of me. And I realized that no matter what I did, no matter what I said, they’d never stay out of my life. Or out of yours.”
“You called me,” she said. “You canceled our date for the next night, and I was mad.”
“I did. And you were.” He touched her cheek. “I kept telling you I loved you.”
“But I hung up and when you called back...”
“You didn’t answer. I took it as a sign.”
Her expression became incredulous. “What kind of sign would that be?”
“One that would give me the courage to leave, when all I wanted to do was stay.”
He cupped her face and leaned in for a kiss, but a demanding tap on the driver’s-side window made him freeze.
With his heart in his throat, Donovan eased away from Jordynn’s tempting lips and prepared himself to face whoever was on the outside of the car. Surreptitiously, he reached for the discarded scissors, tightening his fingers on their handle, but keeping the makeshift weapon low.
It’s not much, he thought, but it’s better than nothing.
Last Chance Hero Page 16
