The Only Way Out

by Susan Mallery

  The child moved closer and angrily swiped at the tears on his face. Sunlight caught the brown of his hair, then highlighted the shape of his nose and chin. Raw anger radiated from the child’s eyes. Anger so like another man’s rage.

  “Let her go,” Bobby demanded again.

  Jeff released the woman and stepped back. He bumped into a tree and grasped its smooth trunk for support. Bobby continued to glare at him. Those eyes, so large and expressive. So like his father’s.

  Jeff swallowed hard, remembering another child with big eyes, a boy about four years old, laughing as he climbed down the plane’s steps and flew into his father’s arms.

  “I crossed an ocean,” J.J. had said proudly as Jeff had swooped him up.

  “Did you?”

  “I wasn’t afraid.”

  Jeanne had followed her son down the steps, moving a little slower, the long flight and time changes making her weary. “He’s not afraid of anything.”

  Fierce pride had burned through Jeff, as though he had something to do with his child’s bravery. Perhaps he had taught him something about courage, but more likely, J.J. hadn’t encountered anything to be frightened of. He’d been surrounded by loving parents and family from the moment he’d been born.

  So much life snuffed out by a single explosion. An explosion meant for his father.

  Jeff stared at the boy in front of him, and at the woman crouched down beside him. She held the child to her and watched him fearfully, as if he’d gone mad. He had gone mad.

  Loathing rose up inside of him until he could taste the bitterness. Hatred, anger, rage. Revenge.

  He advanced slowly. “What’s your last name, Bobby?”

  “C-Cochran,” the child answered.

  There had been rumors, of course. Whispers of a brief marriage, hints of a child. But few had seen the mysterious woman or her son. Word on the street was that she’d left Kray after six months of wedded bliss. Kray had kept his secrets. And the woman had kept hers.

  Jeff continued to approach. The woman stood up and moved the boy behind her.

  “You can’t hurt him,” she said. “He’s just a boy.”

  “He’s Kray’s son.”

  “No. He’s mine. Until three weeks ago, he’d never even seen his father. He thought he was dead. Bobby is nothing like Kray. Nothing.” Her voice grew louder with each word.

  “Mommy?” Bobby clung to her leg and whimpered.

  Jeff reached for the custom grip of his pistol. His hand brushed against the cool steel. He froze. What the hell was he doing?

  He shook his head to clear away the anger, then tamped down the remaining emotions. He couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of his job.

  He gave the boy a half smile. “Don’t be scared, son. I won’t hurt you.”

  Bobby sniffed, but didn’t release his death grip on his mother’s jeans.

  Jeff returned his attention to the woman. She, too, had large eyes. High cheekbones sculpted her face. For the first time he realized she was beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him think about the forbidden. Or beautiful enough to tempt a man to try to own her, much as Kray owned objects from all over the world.

  “How old are you?” he asked Bobby.

  “F-five.”

  His gaze narrowed as he studied the woman. That meant she’d married Kray about six years ago. Six years ago, when J.J. had been three and growing faster than he’d believed possible. Six years ago, when Jeff’s marriage with Jeanne was crumbling around them and it didn’t seem to matter how much they’d been in love. Six years ago when his wife had accused him of loving his job more than he’d loved her and he’d known in his heart she was right.

  Jeff moved closer. The woman froze in place. Fear flickered across her features, tightening her jaw and making her body tremble. But she didn’t back away. She kept herself between him and the boy.

  Her run through the jungle and wrestling with him had loosened her braid. Strands of hair drifted across her shoulders. He reached forward. She flinched. Slowly he grabbed the loose hair and pulled it away from her face. His gaze narrowed as he studied her features. Six years ago she hadn’t been blond. He pictured her eyes green instead of blue, her hair cropped above the ears and bright red. His gaze flickered over her T-shirt and jeans. She hadn’t been as curvy then, or dressed so casually. He searched his memory recalling all the pictures of Kray he’d pored over, memorizing everything he could about the man.

  One photograph clicked into place. He stared at the blonde, seeing instead a tall, painfully thin party girl in a designer gown. She’d been clinging to Kray’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly. The powerful telescopic lens had caught her perfect features, her wide eyes and mouth. He remembered everything and knew exactly who she was.

  Jeff stepped back from her. “You’re the bimbo model.”

  “And you’re some macho jerk who gets a kick out of frightening little boys.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I’d always assumed Kray liked his women submissive and decorative. Guess I was wrong.”

  “I was a great disappointment to him.”

  He glanced at Bobby. “Obviously not. You’re the wife,” he said, wondering how any woman could become involved with low-life scum like Kray. Was it the money? The power? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have time for this.

  “Ex-wife,” she said.

  He ignored her, then glanced back the way they’d come and wondered how long it would be before someone noticed the kid was missing. Kidnapping Kray’s only son wasn’t going to make the crime lord happy. The woman was in a lot of trouble. No doubt she already knew that.

  Damn. If only she hadn’t picked today to try her heroics. Kray would be dead by now and all their problems would be solved.

  “Are you going to turn us over to him?” she asked.

  He returned his attention to her. She’d squared her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest. Bobby still stood behind her, watching him warily. The kid had spunk, he thought, then frowned. It wasn’t right. Kray’s child lived and breathed while J.J. was long since dead and buried.

  The familiar sense of loss swept over him, making him wonder if he would ever be able to look at a young boy and not think of his son.

  “I won’t turn you in,” he said shortly and shifted his backpack. He wasn’t going to turn them in, but if he let her go, and she was captured by Kray’s men, she would tell them about him. Once they knew he was on the island, he would be dead before he got another shot at Kray.

  He glanced up at the sun in the clear blue sky, then back at her. “You’ve got the boy. How did you plan to get away?”

  She clamped her lips shut.

  Great. “Listen, lady, I just saw you kidnap Kray’s son. If I was one of the bad guys, don’t you think I’d turn you in and get some kind of reward for my trouble? Kray would pay big money to get you and the kid back.”

  She balled her hands into fists. “He doesn’t want me back. I told you, I’m his ex-wife. It’s been over five years since we—” She shook her head. “Why am I explaining this to you? I don’t even know who or what you are. Look at how you’re dressed. My God, you’re probably some paramilitary psycho who gets his kicks out of torturing innocent women and children.” Her voice trembled on each word, and by the end of her speech he could see she was fighting tears.

  “Mommy?” Bobby looked up at her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She blinked several times, then smiled down at her son. “I’m fine. We’re going to go now.” She took Bobby’s hand and turned away.

  “Not so fast,” Jeff said, starting after her. “Not until I know exactly what is going on here.”

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s not your business.”

  “You made it my business when you crashed my party. I don’t trust you. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  Help? If things hadn’t been so tw
isted, he would have laughed out loud. “Who said anything about help? Lady, I don’t care what happens to you. I just want to stay alive on this stinking island. You’re in my way. I want you out of my way. End of story.”

  The woman recoiled visibly. “Don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded. “I don’t matter, but he does. Please, please just get him away from Kray. Bobby’s the innocent one in all of this. Surely you can see that. He didn’t even know who his father was. Kray had never even seen him until three weeks ago. I’m begging you, help him.”

  “I won’t hurt the kid,” Jeff said in disgust. She was Kray’s ex-wife. She’d known what the man she’d married was and now she was paying the price. That wasn’t his problem. But he understood about the child being a victim. Like J.J. had been a victim. “I can’t let you tell Kray I’m here.”

  She laughed. The sound had a slightly hysterical edge to it. “Mister, if he finds me, he’s not going to bother with questions. Trust me.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  They stared at each other. The woman blinked first.

  “I guess we have a standoff,” she said. “What happens now?”

  “You tell me your plan and then I decide what to do with you.”

  She swallowed hard. He could see her weighing her alternatives. Her gaze strayed to the gun at his waist.

  “If I wanted you dead, it would have been done by now,” he said.

  “Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

  He shrugged. “If you don’t want me coming with you, then you’re coming with me. Willing or not.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “That’s smart. But the way I see it, you don’t get a vote. I’m stronger, armed and I know what I’m doing.”

  He could see her weighing her alternatives, and knew the moment she’d realized she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She must have figured out that he’d been telling the truth when he’d said if he’d wanted to kill her, she would be dead by now.

  She’d been strong so far, but she was beginning to unravel around the edges. She had a lot of nerve to keep talking back to him. He would guess she was so close to the edge she either had to fight back as best she could, or fall off the other side. He gave her about four more hours on her own before she lost it completely. She didn’t know it yet, but he was her best hope for survival. What irony. Here he was, standing in the middle of some goddamn tropical jungle talking to Kray’s ex-wife. Somebody somewhere was having a good time at his expense.

  “What do you want to know?” she asked quietly.

  “A short version of the truth.”

  She nodded. “I met Kray six and a half years ago while I was in Europe. I was young and stupid and…I suppose that’s no excuse, is it?”

  Bobby crept out from behind her and stared up at him. Jeff forced himself to smile at the boy. The woman rested her hand on the child’s head.

  “It was a whirlwind courtship. We were married for a short time. When I realized he wasn’t—” She paused, then grimaced. “When I found out what he was, I left.”

  “I find it hard to believe he let you go.”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t nearly ornamental enough and was far too outspoken. I came back to the States and—Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m not fit to clean your boots. You have a real attitude problem.”

  Jeff stared at her. She was right. He did. He hated everyone involved with Kray. “An occupational hazard.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

  She crouched down next to her son. “I know you are, Bobby. You haven’t had any breakfast yet, have you?”

  He shook his head.

  She placed one knee on the ground and pulled a mangled roll out of her jeans pocket. “Here. Have this. We’ll get some more food later.”

  “Get to the point,” Jeff said.

  The woman looked up at him. Wide blue eyes, the color of the Caribbean sky, held his gaze. Fear flickered there. Concern, anger, but no subterfuge. His gut told him she wasn’t lying. At least not yet.

  “I came home, then my doctor confirmed my pregnancy. Kray divorced me. He never said anything about the baby. I wasn’t even sure he knew. I got on with my life. Three weeks ago, he showed up.” She turned away, but not before he saw the tears. “It was Bobby’s fifth birthday. Kray said he was old enough to learn about the business and took him.”

  “Just like that?”

  She nodded. “He said if I tried to get him back…” She glanced at Bobby. “I got the message.”

  So did Jeff. Kray threatened to kill her if she tried to get her son back. “Apparently you don’t know how to listen.”

  She rose to her feet. “What was I supposed to do? Just let him keep my son?”

  “You could have done a hell of a lot better than sneaking in to save him yourself.”

  She stiffened and cleared her throat. “Do you think I’m crazy? I didn’t come out here alone.”

  Her first lie. “Listen, lady, I don’t—”

  “My name isn’t ‘lady.’ It’s Andrea Cochran. Andie. I’ll thank you to call me that.”

  “Fine, Andie. The way I figure it, the maid back at the villa already knows the kid is not in his room. She’s about finished searching the house and grounds, and is going to call Kray on his boat. We can stand here talking about who and what you are, or we can move out of here and stay alive.”

  She glared at him. “May I remind you, Rambo, you’re the one who asked about my past.”

  “And you told me. Let’s go.” He bent down and picked up Bobby. “Wanna bet you and me together can go faster than your mom alone?” He ended his sentence with a quick wink, forestalling the child’s fear.

  Bobby eyed him warily, then nodded slowly. “Mommy can’t go real fast.”

  “I’m not surprised. Let’s see if she can keep up.”

  Andie grabbed his arm. “Give him back to me.”

  Jeff started walking. “He’s too heavy and you’re already exhausted. How far is your car?”

  “I’m not sure.” She fell into step behind him. “I left it off the side of the road.”

  “Camouflaged?”

  “I didn’t hack down a tree and bite off the branches with my bare teeth to cover it, if that’s what you’re asking. I did pull into a turnout and park behind some brush.”

  “That’s something.”

  “Your faith in my ability is overwhelming.”

  “How are you planning on getting off the island?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He ducked around hanging vines, then stepped over a log, not letting either slow him down. Andie didn’t have the advantage of his training or endurance. He could hear her labored breathing and she struggled to keep up. Bobby held on tightly, his skinny legs wrapped around his waist, one hand holding on to Jeff’s backpack. The kid wasn’t too heavy, but he was awkward. Jeff shifted so Bobby’s weight rested on his hip and kept moving.

  After a few minutes, he eyed the sun overhead, then turned slightly east. They would come out on the road about a half mile from the villa. It was unlikely she would have been willing to hike much farther on her own. He hoped she remembered where she’d parked her Jeep.

  The temperature rose steadily, and with it the humidity. The call of birds and the drone of insects provided background noise for his tangled thoughts. None of this felt real. Not the boy, or the woman. Not the circumstances in which he found himself. Somewhere in the past few minutes he’d made the decision to get her off the island, mostly because the alternative was being identified before he’d finished what he’d come for. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be saddled with an inexperienced, volatile party girl and her bratty kid.

  He glanced down at Bobby and smiled. Okay, so the kid wasn’t so bad. Bobby smiled back shyly and offered the last bit of his roll. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  When they neared the r
oad, he paused, waiting for her to catch up. Perspiration coated her face and her cheeks were flushed bright red. More strands of hair had escaped from her braid.

  He reached behind him and ripped open the Velcro strap that held his canteen in place. He opened the top and handed it to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, between pants. She took a small mouthful of water and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing. “If you were trying to prove a point, you did. Aerobics doesn’t equip you for jungle combat. I see that now. I’ll be sure to have a word with my instructor when I get back.”

  In spite of himself, he admired her spunk. “You’re some mouthy woman, you know that?”

  “Yeah.” She took another drink, then handed him the canteen. “I know.”

  After Bobby had drunk his fill, Jeff took a couple of sips, then slipped the canteen back in place. He shifted the boy to his other side. “The road is about ten feet that way,” he said, pointing. “Which way is your Jeep?”

  She walked through the brush to the edge of the road. Once there, she looked to the left, then to the right. He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You can’t remember.”

  She turned around and glared at him. “Listen, Rambo, I’m not having a good day here. You didn’t kill me, so I assume you’re either toying with me, waiting to turn me back over to Kray or you’re genuinely trying to help. As you pointed out, you’re stronger than me, you’re armed and right now you’re holding my son. I think you’ve got enough of an advantage without resorting to giving me a hard time, as well.”

  “The name’s Jeff,” he said.

  Her gaze narrowed. “Is there a last name, or don’t I need to know?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Figures.” She returned her attention to the empty road. “That way,” she said, pointing.

  He followed her out of the brush. A hundred feet or so up the road there was a turnout. As she’d mentioned, the Jeep was parked behind a tree, partially concealed by brush. Someone driving by quickly wouldn’t spot it. Someone looking for it would see it in a minute.