The Only Way Out

by Susan Mallery

  “Go to bed,” he ordered.

  “I can’t sleep.”

  “Well, I’m tired.”

  She shook her head slowly. Blond hair drifted back and forth in lazy counterpoint. “You’re afraid the nightmare will come back if you go to sleep now.” She shifted slightly, then dropped her arms to her sides. “Will it go well tonight?”

  The mission. He’d almost forgotten. In less than twenty-four hours she would be on her way to Florida. Then he could get on with what he’d come for. With a little luck, Kray would be dead soon.

  “My man is trustworthy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I wasn’t worried about that. I just wondered if there was anything that could go wrong.”

  There were a thousand things, but he knew she didn’t want to hear about them. “You and Bobby will be fine.”

  She gave him a half smile. As if she weren’t quite sure she believed him, but she appreciated the effort on her behalf.

  “When we’re gone, will you kill Kray?” she asked.

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “I know you’re going to. I mean, not just because of what you said before, but because of the rifle I saw. I understand that waiting for him to make a mistake is taking too long. He’s very smart and he’s very lucky.” She twisted her hands together, lacing and unlacing her fingers. “He’s a bad man. That’s sounds simplistic, but it’s true.”

  “And that justifies killing?”

  She stared at him. “No, it doesn’t. But I don’t think there’s another solution. He’s a murderer. Not just what I saw, but others we’ll never know about, and your family…” Her voice trailed off.

  She looked around the room. There was a single straight-back chair in the corner. She walked over to it and perched on the edge. “I don’t know what’s right anymore. When he came into my condo to steal Bobby, if I’d had a way to hurt him, I would have done it. I’d do anything to protect my child. But shooting someone deliberately is different. Not necessarily wrong, just hard to understand.” She shook her head. “I’m not making any sense.”

  Jeff leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. “You’d be amazed how much sense you’re making.”

  “How do you do this for a living?”

  He smiled slightly. “I’m not a paid assassin, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Good.”

  He opened his eyes and glanced at her. She sat straight in the chair, with both feet on the ground. Prim and proper. If he hadn’t been sure she wore almost nothing under her nightshirt, it wouldn’t have been provocative at all. Or it shouldn’t have been. He had a bad feeling everything Andie did would turn him on. He shifted on the bed and was grateful the white sheet bunched around his waist hid his arousal from her.

  “Sometimes the lines are gray,” he admitted. “I don’t always know what the right thing is, but that’s my goal. To stay on this side of the line.”

  Except for this mission, he admitted. This time he’d crossed the line. There was no going back.

  “Do you spend a lot of time out—” She waved her hand around them. “What’s the technical term? In the field?”

  “Most of the time I’m stuck behind a desk in Washington.”

  “Really? So you’re not Rambo Two?”

  “No.” He smiled. “I’m just an ordinary man trying to take care of business.”

  “Only, Bobby and I got in the way,” she said softly. “No wonder you were so angry at us that first day and angry at me ever since. I don’t blame you.”

  Big eyes met his own. Sorrow and compassion darkened her irises to the color of a stormy sky. She was beautiful. Not a flashy look-at-me kind of woman, but someone who would always have classic features. In time her face would change. The skin would draw tighter, wrinkles would deepen around her eyes. Yet she would age with elegance. He could imagine her in forty years. That should have scared the hell out of him.

  He didn’t want to like her. He wanted everything to be her fault. “Andie, I—”

  “No, really,” she interrupted. “It makes sense. Besides, I trust your temper.”

  “You’re crazy.”

  “No, I’m not. The fact that you haven’t wanted me around is sort of comforting. If you’d been nice to me from the beginning I would have wondered what you wanted from me. By making me stand up to you, you’ve forced me to keep being strong. I’m scared of the future but I think I have a chance at keeping Bobby safe.”

  “I hope so,” he said, and meant it. He wanted her and the kid to get away.

  She tilted her head slightly and smiled. His groin tightened. “You’re the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in years.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “I’m not. Think about it, Jeff. I left Kray in Europe six years ago. I didn’t expect him to let me go, let alone live without him. I kept waiting for him to come and get me.” She grimaced. “It was like waiting for the other shoe to drop all the time. I hated it. I didn’t dare tell anyone. I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Or that they would.”

  She nodded. “Exactly. My whole life was tenuous. I was afraid to get close, afraid to connect with anyone. I wanted to belong somewhere, but it wasn’t safe. So there was only ever Bobby and me.” She leaned forward. “In my heart, I knew he’d come back. Leaving had been too easy for it to be real.”

  “I understand.” And he did. She’d lived in the shadows, too. Not because she was a criminal or on assignment, but because of Kray. More than most civilians, she would understand about the frayed edges of life, of being just short of fitting in. Jeanne had never been able to relate to what he was talking about.

  He grimaced. The disloyal thought annoyed him. He had no right to think less of Jeanne. Her only crime had been to try and save their marriage. She’d paid for it with her life.

  “I know I’ve followed you around like a puppy,” she said. She brushed her hair off of her face. “You keep kicking me and I keep coming back wagging my tail. You’re the only person I can be honest with. This time tomorrow, we’ll be on our way to Florida. The lies will start again. We’ll be hiding out from Kray. I’m going to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. But for these few days, I haven’t had to do that. I haven’t had to pretend to be other than I am. You know the worst about me. In a way, it’s almost a relief to have you dislike me. I know that sounds strange. But you’re the only person who knows everything.”

  “Not everything,” he said.

  “Okay.” She grinned. “I have a couple of secrets. But you know the bad stuff. It’s very freeing not to pretend.”

  She was making him feel worse by the minute. “Andie, don’t make me a hero in all this.”

  “I’m not.”

  She laughed. Her long hair caught the lamplight. She looked young and happy in that moment. He saw her as she must have been when Kray first met her. Alive. Charming. Funny. He didn’t want to be drawn to her, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  “I prefer my white knights to be in literature, not in life.” Her humor faded. “I don’t really believe in white knights anymore. Although Rambo is a close second.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  She lowered her head and started pleating the hem of her T-shirt. “Most of the time I’m terrified. The only thing that keeps me going is trying to keep the truth from Bobby. I don’t want him to grow up scarred by this experience.”

  “You’ve come this far on your own. I’ll tell you a secret.” He lowered his voice. “You’re doing better than most of my field agents would, and they have the benefit of experience.”

  He thought she might laugh again, but instead she smiled slowly. She straightened her shoulders. He saw the faint movement of her bare breasts under her shirt. Need flared brighter as his blood heated. He admired her strength and he wanted her. It was a deadly combination.

  He tried to grab hold of the anger to help him resist her. He thought of a hal
f-dozen cruel things he could say to drive her from the room. Instead, he watched her, wishing he was strong enough to ignore her, or weak enough to invite her into his bed.

  “I appreciate your understanding,” she said.

  He raised his eyebrows. She couldn’t possibly know what he was thinking. “Of what?”

  “Me. My situation. You’re a decent kind of guy. You’ve probably never done a bad thing in your life.”

  “Get real, Andie. Everyone does things they regret.” He could fill pages with lists of his. It wasn’t just Jeanne and J.J., although God knows he had plenty of regrets with them. “I’ve made bad decisions. I’ve sent agents into impossible situations.”

  She shifted on the chair, stretching her long legs out in front of her. The need became unbearable. He had to have her or explode. He thought about asking her to join him in his bed. He could just throw back the covers and expose his nakedness. She would know right away what he wanted. They could both escape into the passion.

  But no matter how much he might admire her courage and the way she’d raised her kid, he couldn’t forget she’d once belonged to Kray. He couldn’t do that to Jeanne. He owed her. Bad enough not to have loved her in life, the least he could do was mourn her in death.

  “Do you think—”

  “Go to bed,” he said abruptly, cutting her off. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

  “We both need to get some sleep,” he continued. “You’ll be up all of tomorrow night.”

  “Of course.”

  She rose slowly and walked to the doorway. He’d hurt her feelings. He could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders. He watched her move, her hips swaying under the thin T-shirt. His body throbbed painfully. She closed the door behind her without once looking back.

  When he was alone, Jeff turned off the lamp, got out of bed and stood in front of the open window. The hardness between his legs throbbed in time with his heartbeat. It would have been so easy to bury himself inside her and forget. Easy but wrong. He owed Jeanne more.

  Maybe he owed Andie more, too.

  Chapter 9

  Andie folded the last of Bobby’s T-shirts and slipped it in her soft-sided carry-on bag. She’d only brought a few pieces of clothing with her, but when combined with Jeff’s purchases, they filled out the bag. Still, she wouldn’t have to worry about shopping when they arrived in Florida. They could go directly to the airport and take the first plane out of town. Staying away from Kray was her main objective.

  She glanced around the now-bare room. Their towels were folded neatly on the single dresser. Everything else had been packed. Bobby had a plastic shopping bag filled with his new toys. They would keep him busy on the boat.

  It was a simple enough plan, she thought as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Yet a thousand things could go wrong. Kray could be waiting at the dock. The captain, whom Jeff trusted, could turn them in. Kray’s men could catch them before they arrived in Florida, or they could be waiting at the airport there. A storm could knock them off course, causing them to—

  She covered her face with her hands. “Stop thinking about it,” she said out loud. She was only making herself crazy. She was nervous enough without imagining trouble that hadn’t even happened yet.

  She stood up and walked toward the dresser. She pulled a brush from her purse and began to stroke it through her hair. When she was done, she divided the strands into three sections and quickly wove a braid. Jeff had given her a dark baseball hat to keep any light from reflecting off her blond hair. When she finished, she glanced at her clothing. She wore jeans and a dark blue long-sleeved shirt, fastened at her wrists. Her athletic shoes were white, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d dressed Bobby in dark colors, as well. They were doing all they could. She would have to pray for a little luck to help them survive the rest of it.

  The sounds of the night surrounded her. She could hear the cheeps and whistles of the insects, the faint rustlings of the night creatures. The waves provided a familiar counterpoint. Bobby was asleep on Jeff’s bed. They would wake him up right before they left. Andie had also convinced her son to take a nap that afternoon, so he wouldn’t be too exhausted for their boat trip. She had enough problems without adding a cranky child to the mix.

  She pressed her hand against her stomach and drew in a deep breath. Nerves made her jumpy. She wanted it over with now. She wanted to never leave the house.

  She set the hat on her head, then stared at her reflection. Fear pulled her mouth straight. If she was honest with herself, she would admit that she was terrified of being solely responsible again. For these last few days, she’d had someone else to depend on. It had been nice to lean on Jeff, even for a little while. It didn’t matter that he didn’t like her. He’d been there and he’d kept them safe. Once she was on the boat, she would be on her own. What if she couldn’t do it?

  That line of thought was too dangerous. She turned away from the mirror and quickly checked the room for the last time. She bent down and looked under the beds to make sure Bobby hadn’t accidentally kicked something under there. The floor was dusty but bare.

  She knelt on the floor and rested her forearms on the mattress. She hadn’t slept much last night. If only she could close her eyes for a few hours and make this all go away. But she couldn’t. She fingered the cotton bedspread and closed her eyes. Instead of this room, she pictured Jeff’s room and how it had looked last night.

  If she hadn’t heard Jeff call out, she would never have dared go into his room. Despite what people said about her, she wasn’t bold around men. While she’d been a model, she’d had a reputation of being a party girl. If only they knew the truth. She’d never done drugs, hadn’t been able to handle liquor well so she didn’t drink and she’d made love to exactly two men in her life. She’d been engaged to one and had married the other. Not exactly the shocking life-style most people assumed she’d led.

  She knew what Jeff thought of her. She’d seen it in his eyes when he’d stared at her. She’d heard it in the contempt in his voice. Now that she knew the truth about what Kray had done, she didn’t blame Jeff. She despised herself for being so stupid.

  So last night, when she’d felt so alone and afraid, she’d foolishly been tempted when she’d seen Jeff in his bed. His broad chest had been bare, his skin tanned, his muscles strong. She’d wanted to crawl in next to him. It would have been wonderful to make love. Not just because she was afraid she was going to die, but because she liked him. And trusted him. She hadn’t been able to trust anyone in a long time.

  She thought she might have seen desire in his eyes, but she wasn’t sure. Besides, how exactly was a woman supposed to bring up the subject? She’d been too embarrassed and ashamed to ask him to hold her. She reminded him of all he’d lost. How he must hate her every breath. But she needed holding desperately. Not just because she was lonely and afraid but because she cared about him. He was the sort of man she dreamed about giving her heart to.

  On those lonely nights when Bobby had been a baby, when she’d stayed awake waiting for Kray to return and destroy her life, she’d imagined a world where she could meet someone and risk caring again. She’d thought about being normal, of waking up next to someone, of raising children together, arguing over money or visits from in-laws, then making up with a quick laugh and slow lovemaking. Her imaginary mate had no face. She didn’t care what he looked like as long as he was honorable, patient and kind. A good man. Like Jeff.

  She walked to the window and stared out at the night. He made her think of her foolish dreams for a life that would never be. He made her long for a man to care about. He made her think about love.

  She inhaled the scent of the island. At first, the tropical breezes, the exotic flowers and the salt of the sea had reminded her of Kray. But not anymore. Now, when she remembered St. Lucas, she would think of Jeff. Of these few days of feeling safe, of her wish that she was anyone but Kray’s ex-wife.

  The sound of footsteps in the hall made her m
ove away from the window. By the time Jeff knocked on the door, she was sitting on the bed, checking the suitcase for the last time.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He opened the door. “You almost ready?” he asked, stepping into the room.

  “Yes.” She zipped the case shut.

  He closed the door behind him and approached the bed. He, too, had dressed for their escape, although instead of dark clothes, he wore the camouflage uniform she’d first seen him in. His short blond hair gleamed in the overhead light. Blue eyes met her own. She studied his face, memorizing individual features so that years from now she would be able to recall what he looked like.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done,” she said as he sat on the other side of the suitcase.

  “Save your thanks until you’re off the island,” he said, then handed her a pistol. “I want you to take this.”

  She stared at the handgun. Except for when Kray had shot that man, and the one Jeff had pulled on them when they’d first run into him in the jungle, she’d never seen a pistol close up.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You won’t. There’s a difference.”

  He grabbed her hand and forced her to take the gun. It was heavier than it looked. Instinctively her fingers closed around the steel. “Do you expect me to shoot someone?”

  “If you have to.”

  She glanced up at him. He was serious. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve never fired a gun in my life. I don’t know how to use it and I don’t want to know.”

  He took the gun back from her. “It’s simple to use. Here’s the safety.” He flicked a small lever on the left side of the gun, just above the grips. “If you don’t release the safety the gun won’t fire. This button here drops the magazine.” He pushed the button. The clip fell out onto the suitcase. “It holds fourteen rounds. Pop it in like this.” He pushed it back in place, then handed her the gun. “Now you do it.”