The Only Way Out

by Susan Mallery

  “Stay out of your way? You’re the one who—”

  “Don’t say it,” he growled, glaring at her. “Damn you, don’t you say it.”

  She stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. Perhaps he had. He’d also hurt her. He read that in the slight slump of her shoulders as she turned away and walked into the house.

  Jeff closed his eyes against the memories, but that didn’t help. He could still see her and taste her. His body was still hard from wanting her. It didn’t matter that she’d screwed his wife’s killer. It didn’t matter that she’d borne Kray’s son.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to the night. “Jeanne, I’m so sorry.”

  He wasn’t sure what he apologized for. The kiss? Or not being the kind of husband she’d needed. Did he wish to atone for a moment of passion, or all the years he’d loved his job more?

  But it wasn’t enough. He still couldn’t recall her face. The exact sound of her voice, of her laugh, eluded him, like the echo of a dream he couldn’t recall. He could see J.J. easily. The boy lived on in his heart. But Jeanne had faded.

  It was a punishment. Once again Kray had won. Jeff wondered what Kray would say if he knew the truth. That Jeff lusted after his woman.

  Chapter 7

  It was another perfect day in paradise. Andie glanced up at the brilliant blue sky, at the bright sun, and frowned. How did the locals stand so much happy weather? Right now she wanted the climate to match her mood. That meant it should be cold, gray and rainy. Instead she was stuck here on St. Lucas, basking in the tropics.

  She reached down and splashed water onto the inflatable raft she and Bobby had found in a nearby storage shed that morning. While her son sat on the steps in the shallow end of the pool and played with his now-amphibious action figures, she pressed her sunglasses more firmly on her face and closed her eyes to block out the sun.

  She wished she could sleep. Last night, after she’d fled the porch and Jeff’s odd behavior, she’d lain in bed staring at the ceiling. The sound of the surf and her son’s even breathing hadn’t been enough to block out Jeff’s pacing. He’d walked back and forth on the porch for hours. She’d been torn between wondering what he was thinking about, wanting to go and ask if she could help, and staying out of his way. He was the most confusing and exasperating man she’d ever met.

  Did he worry about getting them off the island? Was it concerns about his secret mission that kept him awake? Or was it the kiss?

  Andie sighed and opened her eyes. Better to stare at the sparkling pool water and the white sand than to relive that kiss again. She didn’t want to remember how it had felt to be in Jeff’s arms. It had been so long since someone had held her. She could have wept with happiness, not that she’d had a chance to do more than absorb his strength and maleness. It had almost felt foreign. Dormant sensations had awakened painfully. She hadn’t felt desire or need in years. She hadn’t had the time or even been willing to risk those feelings. They would have meant she was close to someone. Letting a man into her life had been too risky. She’d never known when Kray was going to return, but she’d always known he would. He wasn’t the type to let his possessions go, even one he didn’t want anymore.

  So she’d stayed on her own, because it was safer. She’d been determined not to let anyone past the barriers. With Jeff she hadn’t had a choice. He’d surprised her, sweeping her up in a maelstrom of need, touching her, not just physically, but inside. Then he’d pushed her away.

  She knew why. It even made sense in a twisted way. Jeff despised her because of Kray. Because of who her ex-husband was. Jeff didn’t know her, but that didn’t matter. He judged her by the company she’d kept. He judged her by Bobby’s father. He’d probably been on Kray’s trail for years.

  “Mommy, I want to swim to the deep end,” Bobby announced, standing up on the second step.

  “Okay, honey. I’ll watch.”

  She sat up, straddling the floating raft. Her legs dangled in the warm pool water. Bobby raised his arms above his head and made an exaggerated dive from the step. He splashed around for a couple of seconds, then found his stroke and started for the far end of the pool.

  Andie watched him swim. Her son was a physical creature, preferring to run rather than walk, to bounce instead of sit. At least with the nice weather and having access to a pool, she didn’t have to worry about him being bored. He was used to playing by himself. She allowed him to have as many friends as he wanted but somehow he understood her need for them to stand alone against the world. He went to other people’s houses for play and parties, but he didn’t stay late. He sensed her fear. She hated that. Hated what Kray had reduced them to.

  Bobby reached the far end of the pool. He grabbed the side with one hand. “Look at me.”

  “I see. You’re doing great with your swimming. I’ll bet Coach Earnhart will move you up to the red team this summer.”

  Bobby’s hazel eyes widened. “Wow, really? The red team?”

  He grinned showing white teeth almost the same color as the zinc oxide she’d put on his nose. Sunscreen wasn’t always enough to protect him from sunburn. She’d rubbed the same cream on her own nose. They must look like clowns.

  “I think so,” she said. “Tryouts are next month. You’ve really improved a lot. You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?”

  Bobby nodded, then puffed out his thin chest. “Watch how fast I swim back!”

  He threw himself in the water and paddled toward the shallow end. Andie kept her eye on him, staying upright on the raft until he’d returned to the steps in the shallow end. He picked up his action figures and immediately began a competition with them. She smiled and leaned back. She splashed water up onto her legs to keep herself cool. It would be terrific if Bobby made the red team. She wasn’t like some mothers—she didn’t care if Bobby came in first or last when the swim team competed. All that mattered to her was that her son was having fun and that he tried. Bobby had been working hard all winter, swimming several times a week. The lesson and membership dues were one of her few indulgences. It was worth it to see him so happy and successful. If Coach Earnhart agreed with her and—

  Andie stopped splashing the water. She raised her head slightly and gazed at her son playing happily. A band tightened around her chest. She didn’t know if Bobby was ever going to see his coach or his friends again. For a few moments she’d forgotten that they were on the run. Unless Kray was somehow caught and put away, they wouldn’t be able to return to their old life. Nothing was ever going to be the same for them again.

  Sometimes she thought she was living in a dream. This couldn’t be happening to her. It wasn’t real. Nothing had been normal or sane since her parents had been killed in the car crash. The months following the accident were like an old home movie. The memories ran through her brain without sound. Some things she could see clearly, others were foggy with whole sections missing. She didn’t remember very much clearly until she met Kray. Those memories were vivid, almost frightening in their intensity. She’d been so sure, so convinced he was the one. She’s squashed any doubts until it was too late. On her honeymoon, she’d had vague feelings of uneasiness, but she’d ignored them. She hadn’t wanted to know the truth. Until that afternoon when she’d been unable to deny what had happened.

  Andie bit down hard on her lower lip. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to see it again. But she couldn’t stop the past from intruding. She clutched the raft as if she were afraid of being swept up in the storm. The plastic seemed to dissolve beneath her fingers. The water, the bright sunshine, everything faded until she was once again in a long corridor, listening to the tap tap of her high heeled shoes on the wooden floor.

  Two fifty-eight. That time stood out in her mind because she’d just glanced at her watch. A slim gold timepiece. Expensive, elegant. Only one of the dozens of gifts Kray had showered her with. She’d been to lunch with an acquaintance. Afterward she was supposed to get her hair styled for a party that night. At the last min
ute she’d decided to wear a different dress that had a matching hat. She’d canceled her hair appointment from the restaurant and had come back to the apartment.

  She remembered the silence, broken only by her shoes. It was as if even the walls paused to listen. Then she’d heard low voices. Men having a conversation. The tone had changed. To anger. They spoke in a language she didn’t know, although she recognized Kray’s voice. She hurried to tell him she was home.

  The door to the drawing room was open. She remembered laughing at him when he’d called it a drawing room, teasing him for speaking as if they were Victorian aristocracy. Kray had pulled her close, whispering she was his lady of the manor. They’d made love on the elegant gold-and-cream settee. Since then she’d always had a fondness for that room.

  A length of Oriental carpet covered the hallway floor, muffling the sound of her approaching steps. She moved closer, wishing they would speak in English so she would know what they were saying.

  Then the voices got louder, harsher, and she hesitated. It was the sudden silence that drew her closer. She took that last step to the open doorway.

  Her husband stood with his back to her. A man she’d never seen before knelt on the floor in front of him. Two of Kray’s bodyguards stood a few feet away.

  The stranger raised his head and begged. She didn’t have to understand the language to recognize pleading. Her husband shook his head.

  “You betrayed me,” he said in English. “You stole from me.”

  “I have paid it back with interest,” the man answered in the same language. “It was a momentary lapse. A present for my child. Forgive me, I beg you. Forgive me. Until that moment, I had been the most loyal—”

  The single gunshot cut the man off. His eyes widened in surprise as blood blossomed on the front of his white shirt. He continued to stare up at Kray for several seconds before slumping to the floor. Andie bit back a scream as her stomach started to heave. She backed up from the room, slipped off her shoes and ran down the hall to their bedroom. Once there, she locked herself in the bathroom and, with a towel pressed against her mouth, gave in to the hysteria.

  After some time has passed, perhaps a few minutes, perhaps an hour, she left the bathroom. Kray was waiting for her in the bedroom. His expressionless face told her all she needed to know. Somehow he’d sensed her presence. Would he kill her now, or would he wait?

  “The man was disloyal to me,” he said, watching her as a predator watched a potential victim, gauging her strength, her ability to fight back.

  “I see.” Her voice was calm. Did he know how much that cost her?

  “I’m sorry you had to witness his punishment.”

  Punishment? Kray had shot someone in cold blood. In the same room where he’d made love to her. Didn’t any of that matter?

  She stared at the man she’d married and realized she’d never known him at all. So many oddities from their honeymoon suddenly made sense. He wasn’t a successful businessman, he was a criminal. A murderer. God knows what other crimes he’d committed.

  She kept her gaze locked with his, her body straight, her hands still. She said little as he explained. When he held out his arms, she went to him. When he touched her body, she forced herself to sigh with pleasure.

  For the first time her skin crawled when he caressed her nakedness. For the first time, she pretended to reach ecstasy. For the first time her soft words of love were bitter-tasting lies. She played the game as if her life depended on it, for it did. And not just her life.

  Later, when Kray left her to dress for their evening out, she stared at her naked body in the mirror. She touched her still-flat belly and was grateful she’d never mentioned her suspicions. She didn’t want him to know. If he did, he wouldn’t let her go.

  She waited a month, wondering each day if it would be her last. But he seemed to believe her when she expressed contentment. He never showed any doubt of her loyalty. And when she left him, he didn’t come after her.

  The memories faded as quickly as they’d come. Andie stared at the blue sky, at the palm trees and the sand. Despite the warm afternoon, she shuddered. Bobby spoke to her and she replied automatically, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. She knew what would happen if Kray caught them. She knew her ex-husband would reclaim her child and kill her as easily as he’d killed that man six and a half years ago.

  The scents of the island mocked her, reminding her of her honeymoon. How foolish she’d been, how willing to believe the best. Now she hated everything about the island, especially the fact that she was trapped here. She was a fool. No wonder Jeff despised her.

  She turned her thoughts to him because anything was better than thinking about the past. She glanced toward the house. She could see Jeff sitting in the shadow of the porch. He’d still been in his room when Bobby had dragged her out of bed. So far they’d managed to avoid each other. With luck, they could spend the next day and a half living in the same house without having any contact at all.

  Who was this stranger who protected her and her son? She was grateful he’d rescued her. If he hadn’t been with her, she would have been caught at the airport for sure. Was he really a spy? He had to work for the government in some way, but how? She told herself to stop asking questions. She didn’t need to know anything about him.

  But that didn’t stop her from wondering about his late wife. He still mourned her. He must have loved her very much. Andie was willing to bet he hadn’t been with another woman since her death. He hadn’t kissed her like a man who’d been keeping company with a lot of woman. His kiss had been hungry, as if he’d been starving and she was the first meal he’d had in who knows how long.

  It was the circumstances, she told herself, not wanting to remember the kiss and her reaction to it. Not wanting to recall her need and the powerful attraction that had swept her away, even when she’d known better. It wasn’t just that her life was in danger and she had to get her son off the island. It was that she didn’t know anything about Jeff. All the romantic relationships in her life had been impulsive. She’d never met someone, sort of liked him, then gradually, slowly, built a bond. She immediately jumped into the fire. Look where that had gotten her. Married to a murderer, and now, on the run from him.

  She adjusted her sunglasses and splashed more water on her legs and torso. She envied Jeff. Envied him the love he’d shared with his wife before she’d been taken from him. Andie had wanted that for herself once. She’d believed she’d found it with Kray. When those dreams had shattered, she’d known she would spend the rest of her life alone. She couldn’t trust herself to fall for the right kind of man and she couldn’t risk letting someone learn too much about her. It could endanger both their lives.

  She glanced at her son. “You’re turning into a prune, Bobby. Let’s get out for a little while and dry off.”

  “Ah, Mo-om.”

  He was only five, but already had the “ah, Mo-om” down perfectly. She smiled. “The pool will still be here in an hour or so. Besides, I want to freshen your sunscreen.”

  Bobby poked at his arm, then grinned at her. “I’m not burned.” He wrinkled his white zinc-oxide-covered nose.

  “Let’s keep it that way.” She took off her sunglasses and tossed them onto the cement edging the pool. There was no graceful way on or off a raft. After taking a deep breath, she rolled off the side and into the water. She stood up and pushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. Her now-wet braid hung down her back. “Come on, sport. Let’s find something fun to do.”

  A quick glance told her Jeff was still sitting on the porch. Andie snagged her sunglasses and the T-shirts she and Bobby had worn over their swimsuits. She tossed him his, then slipped her own on. They could walk by the ocean, she thought, not wanting to deal with Jeff. He’d said the rocks were dangerous but if they stayed on the shore it should be fine.

  “Want to play baseball?” Jeff asked.

  She turned toward him. He was walking down the stairs carrying a plastic
bat in one hand and three plastic balls in the other.

  Bobby finished wiggling into his T-shirt and raced over to Jeff. “Can I hit first?”

  “Sure,” Jeff answered, but he was looking at her. Waiting. “We need three to make a team.”

  Andie slipped on her sunglasses. He’d washed away the dyes from the previous night. His hair was once again blond, his skin tanned, but not dark. His T-shirt advertised a local fishing cove. His shorts were well-worn and exposed long, powerful thighs. Blue eyes held her gaze. Blue eyes almost the same color as her own. Despite their outward similarities, tall, lean, blond, they were nothing alike. There was a hardness to Jeff, an edge she didn’t understand. They both lived on the fringes, but for different reasons and in different worlds. Yet last night…

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He stiffened as if he knew what she was thinking. He couldn’t, she told herself even as she flushed. He couldn’t see through her sunglasses. But she still took a step back. She still winced when he glared at her as if he hated her.

  “You gonna play, Mom?” Bobby asked.

  She glanced at her son. He grinned in anticipation. He liked Jeff and the man was good to her son. That’s all that mattered. “Sure, I’ll play.”

  “Why don’t you be in the outfield,” he said, motioning to an area close to the Jeep. They used towels to mark the bases.

  By the time Bobby was bent over, ready to hit, the dangerous man who’d kissed her last night and still hated her this morning was gone. In his place was a handsome but distant stranger. Better for both of them to keep it that way.

  Jeff moved close to where Bobby was standing. He pitched gently. The boy swung and missed.

  “Look at the ball,” Jeff said. “Don’t turn away when I pitch it. I won’t hit you.”

  “Okay.”

  Bobby bent over and clutched the bat tightly. Jeff pitched again. This time her son connected with the ball. It arced about ten feet in the air before falling to the ground about a yard from where Jeff was standing.