No Ordinary Day | Book 2 | No Ordinary Getaway

by Tate, Harley

  “No! Don’t be ridiculous.” Emma refused to entertain the idea. John had saved her life. It was only right that she helped him when he was suffering. “We are not kicking you out. You look like death warmed over. It’d be suicide.”

  “We should take the night to process. We’ve all been through a lot.” Vince’s voice radiated calmness from the doorway. He eased past Raymond and Emma and headed straight for a cabinet on the opposite wall. He pulled out a bottle of bourbon and held it up. “I think we all deserve a drink, don’t you?” He passed out glasses as Gloria and Holly entered the house.

  Emma stepped up to help, handing out the tumblers one after the other.

  “What’s going on? Is that my liquor?” Sandra’s voice carried across the room and Emma glanced up. The woman stood at the base of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, one covering her mouth.

  “Shut up, Sandy. I paid for it, so we’re drinking it.”

  Her mouth fell open, outrage passing across her features. Emma turned back around before crossing the living room and handing John and Holly a glass.

  Holly raised her brows.

  “Go ahead. I think you need it.”

  Vince handed Emma a half-full tumbler and she took a sip. The liquor burned as it slipped down her throat and she closed her eyes. They were still alive. That’s what mattered.

  They all drank in silence, each person lost in their own thoughts. Emma went over the events of that day, breaking it down like a failed experiment, trying to figure out where it went so terribly wrong. John leaned against the sofa, eyes closed, liquor gone. Emma set her empty glass on the side table and squeezed onto the couch beside him before taking the gauze from his fingers and inspecting the wound.

  He smiled in appreciation and dropped his hand.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Vince began, “if that chip was how they found us, then they know where we live. It’s not safe for any of us to stay here.”

  “If you had told them to leave, none of this would be happening.” Sandra still stood across the room, arms folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall.

  Vince ignored her. “I’ve got some land a day or so away. It’s not farm ground like this. It’s mostly trees and brush. I use it for hunting, but it’s got a few resources. A little cabin, an outhouse, that sort of thing. It wouldn’t work long-term, but it would give us all a chance to regroup. Figure out what to do next.”

  “If you think I’m going to that falling-down shack in the middle of nowhere, you’re crazy.” Sandra lifted her chin in defiance.

  Vince exhaled and his shoulders sagged. “You know what, Sandy? That’s fine. You are more than welcome to stay right here. But I’m not staying, and neither should anyone else.”

  Sandra sniffed and wiped her nose. “Maybe that’s for the best. If everyone is gone, then there’s no reason for these thugs to come after me. I can have everything I’ve always wanted. All to myself.” She strode forward, chin wobbling as she reached for the half-empty bourbon bottle. “I’ll take this if you don’t mind.”

  Holly stared at her mother, lips tightening into an angry pout. “I just don’t get it. Why are you so awful?” The words burst from the teenager’s mouth as she scooted forward on the couch. “It’s not like we want to be hunted down. It’s not like I asked to be your daughter.”

  “It would have been better if you had. I’d have dispelled the notion and saved us all a bunch of trouble.” Sandra walked out of the room, stomping back upstairs, bottle of bourbon in her hand.

  Vince walked over to Holly, who tried to keep it together on the sofa. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t know why she’s this way.” He kneeled in front of her, taking one hand in his own. “She’s the one who’s broken, not you.”

  Holly sniffed back a wave of tears. “I’m sorry I ran away. I heard you all outside, when she wanted us to leave. All those things she said...”

  “Then I’m sorry about that, too. No daughter should have to hear those things.”

  Emma sat on the other side of the couch, at a loss for how to help and thankful Vince had the wherewithal. For a man who never had children, he seemed to know how to relate.

  Holly pulled herself together and Vince stood. “It’s time we all rustled up some food and get some rest. If we’re leaving, then we need an early start first thing.”

  They each set to work, Emma, Gloria, and Holly pulling together a quick meal of canned soup from their supplies and bread and butter from Vince’s pantry. Raymond and Vince took care of Willy’s body outside and cleaned the evidence of John’s injuries as best they could from the carpet inside.

  After dinner, Emma helped Holly hand-wash her clothes. As they draped the towel-dried clothes over the shower curtain rod, Holly glanced at Emma. “Do you think John will be okay?”

  “He’s strong.” She wished she believed the words, but Emma wasn’t sure. Something about the way he looked at her this afternoon, eyes clouded over with regret and something worse. She smiled and tried to push the thoughts aside. “If anyone can recover from something like this, it’s him.”

  “I know Raymond doesn’t like him, but John’s a good guy. Even Tank warmed up to him.”

  Emma nodded. Part of her still wondered about John. Could a man with his life experiences really put someone else first? He’d proven himself time and time again, but the fact remained that he was hired to kill her.

  She understood Raymond’s refusal to give him the benefit of the doubt. She just wished she knew for certain where John’s ultimate loyalties lay. When push came to shove, would he fall back on his past or look to the future?

  She smiled again at Holly and gave the girl a heartfelt hug before saying goodnight. In the morning they would pack and hit the road again for places unknown. She hoped this move would be Holly’s last.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Raymond

  Raymond slid under the covers of the double bed and Gloria made room with an exhausted smile on her face. “It’s a little smaller than our king back home, but it beats sleeping on the floor.” She pecked him on the check before fluffing her pillow and laying down.

  “If we go with Vince to his cabin, there won’t be a bed at all.”

  “Then we better savor this one, right?” Gloria snuggled down deeper into the mattress and closed her eyes.

  Raymond watched her, a host of thoughts percolating in his mind.

  After a few minutes, his wife blinked her eyes open. “What is it?”

  “How do you always know when I’m thinking through a problem?”

  She smiled and sat up, waiting.

  Raymond rubbed the stubble across his chin. “I’m not sure going with Vince is the right call.”

  Gloria raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  He hesitated. “I think we might be better off on our own.”

  “You mean away from John.”

  “He’s a liability, hon. As long as he’s attached to Emma, then we’re at risk.”

  “Even though he’s saved our lives?”

  “He was hired to kill you.”

  “Emma trusts him.”

  “Do you?”

  Gloria thought it over. “Not entirely. But it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “Why?” Raymond reached for her hand. “Why can’t we just pack up the Explorer and take off? You said you’ve always wanted to see the Southwest. We could go there. Find a little spot in New Mexico or Arizona and get lost.”

  Gloria squeezed his hand. “You’re forgetting why we’re in this mess to begin with.”

  “CropForward.”

  “Me.” She leaned closer. “I was the one who first brought the seeds to Emma’s attention. I was the one who roped Zach into it. If I hadn’t said anything, if I hadn’t set that all in motion, none of this would be happening.”

  “You didn’t know how far it would go. You thought—”

  “It doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is where we are.” She reached up and palmed his chest
. “I love that you want to keep me safe. That you want to take us far away from here. But we can’t leave until Emma and Holly are safe, too. They didn’t ask to be hunted. I owe them my support.”

  Raymond shook his head. “If you asked either one of them, they would tell you this is crazy.”

  “Maybe so, but it’s how I feel. I’d never be able to live with myself if we left and something happened to them.”

  “What about John? If you’re so convinced he’s going to protect them, can’t we leave them in his hands?”

  Gloria shook her head with a smile. “You told me yourself he’s half-dead. He’s not going to be much good in the short term.”

  Raymond stared at the woman he loved, conflicted and frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to drive a wedge between them, but he knew leaving was the right call. With the Explorer and a share of the food and water, they would be self-sufficient, mobile, and far away from John and his company’s threat.

  Pringles rose up from his spot at the foot of the bed and eased his way between them, turning around twice before laying down smack in the middle.

  Raymond reached out and gave the little dog a scratch. “What if we keep our options open?”

  “How so?”

  “Stay with the group, see Emma and Holly to Vince’s place, and then reassess. Would you consider leaving then?”

  Gloria thought it over. “Possibly. If they seem safe, John is on the mend, and there’s no more attacks, then sure. We can talk about leaving.”

  Raymond exhaled in relief. It might not be the resolution he wanted, but compromise in a marriage meant just that. He leaned across Pringles and kissed his wife. “Thank you.”

  She smiled. “Anytime.” She snuggled back under the covers and within a minute her breath became regular and even. Raymond leaned back and closed his eyes. They would head to the cabin, give it a once over, and be on their way.

  In the interim, if the situation changed...

  Gloria might not like it, but Raymond would be ready to leave at any time. If they kept to their own vehicle, managed to keep a good supply of food with them at all times, they would be prepared. If something happened on the road, they could take off. Gloria wouldn’t like it, but if it meant a choice between saving her life or watching her die, he’d do whatever it took.

  Whether she approved or not.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  John

  John didn’t know where the pain ended and he began. From the swelling across the bridge of his nose, to the black eye, to the bullet wound that still hadn’t healed, to the monster gash sneaking down his calf, he was a bit worse for wear.

  He took a swig from the vodka bottle and leaned into Tank, rubbing the German shepherd’s fur. “What the hell am I doing, huh, buddy?”

  Tank grunted as if in agreement.

  “I should be a thousand miles away from here, living the best hitman life. Cash, women, plenty of ammo. Enjoying the end of the world in style. Not sitting out here on the porch in the middle of Mississippi trying not to die.”

  John took another swig of vodka. “At least I have the liquor.”

  The hinges on the front door groaned and he cursed himself, hoping she hadn’t heard his words full of self-pity. That’s what I get for talking to a dog.

  She eased down to sit beside him, and John leaned back. She’d showered, fiery hair turned auburn with water as it fell around her shoulders. She wore what he could only guess was Sandra’s castoff: some silky floral wrap with lace lining the hem. It wasn’t her style, but it suited her all the same.

  Emma wasn’t cut out for this sort of life. The running. The danger. The thrill. She should be at home, curled up with a good book, thinking about how to create a better tomato. Not figuring out a strategy to survive another day.

  She tucked the silky fabric around her knees and smiled. “I’m surprised you’re conscious.”

  John shrugged and downed another glug of the clear, burning liquid before holding it out for her.

  She shook her head. “Liquor is the last thing I need.”

  He grunted in response.

  They sat together in companionable silence, John mulling over the mess he’d made and trying to stay in the moment and Emma lost in whatever purgatory he’d put her in. He should apologize. Tell her she’d be better off without him. Convince her to leave and never look back.

  But he wasn’t that kind of man.

  “Was the man who attacked us the same one who killed Zach?”

  Finally, something he could answer. John nodded. “Afraid so.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Name is Willy.”

  “When we talked about him before, you said he was a loose cannon, that he wasn’t part of your outfit in the military. So, who is he?”

  John took a swig of vodka. What did it matter now? She deserved to know. “He’s Dane’s nephew.”

  Emma reared back, panic spreading from her wide eyes to her open mouth, to the flush creeping up her cheek. “His nephew? Why didn’t you—”

  “Didn’t see the point. What good would panicking have done?”

  She frowned at her knees, running her fingers over the flowers of the fabric. “Were they close?”

  “In a way. Willy’s always been a loose cannon. Dane tried everything when he was younger, military academy, Marine Corps, none of that worked. He washed out of boot camp for insubordination. The kid could never be controlled.”

  Emma hugged her knees. “But their relationship?”

  “At the end of the day, Willy was still his nephew.”

  “So, this won’t be the end, will it?”

  John shook his head. “I can’t imagine it will be, no. My guess is, this will only strengthen Dane’s resolve.”

  She was silent for a moment, thinking it all over. At last, she reached for the vodka and took a swig. “When we get to Vince’s place, I want to leave Holly there and go. She’ll be safe with him. As long as I’m there—” She shook her head. “I need to know she’ll be okay.”

  John understood. He wished he could fix it for Emma, use some magic bullet to eliminate all her enemies and restore her life to the way it should be. But he wasn’t a savior. He was just a broken-down bad guy with almost no gas in the tank. If Dane was still in play, John didn’t know if he could stop him. He didn’t know if he would be enough.

  Emma handed the vodka back with a smile and John’s insides twisted like Willy had stuck a fresh knife. He grabbed the bottle and took another drink.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dane

  Dane replayed the audio transmission of Willy’s final moments, reliving all of his nephew’s mistakes over and over until the rage built inside him and he cleared his desk with the swipe of his arm.

  Willy had always been a subpar member of the family, never living up to his full potential, to Dane’s potential. But John had been all of it and more. Talented, humble, thorough, and meticulous. All the things Dane wished his nephew could be. But they were both dead to him now.

  Willy dying on some farm in middle-of-nowhere Mississippi. John a walking corpse.

  His satellite phone buzzed and Dane checked the screen. It was the call he’d been dreading. He answered on the second ring. “I’m here.”

  “Progress report.”

  “The situation is under control.”

  “The assets?”

  “Location confirmed, will be recovered soon.”

  The man on the other line paused. “There’s been a change of plan.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your services are no longer required.”

  Dane ground his teeth together. “But the contract—”

  “Is canceled.”

  “What about payment?” Visions of the island paradise he’d planned to retire to filled his mind.

  “We are no longer in a position to provide any additional payment for services rendered.”

  Rage rose up inside Dane. “You can’t be serious.
After all I’ve done for you? After all the men I’ve lost?”

  “That sounds like a personal problem.”

  Dane paused, forcing back the anger to think strategically. “Perhaps my talents might be better served in another capacity.”

  “As I believe I’ve already stated, your services are no longer required.”

  Dane frowned at the wall, staring through his awards and decorations as he thought over the assignment. “One more question if I may?”

  “You’re treading on thin ice.”

  “Will there be any further oversight of my operation?”

  The voice on the other end remained silent for a long moment before answering. “No. You are on your own.”

  The line went dead and Dane set the phone down on the desk. It took him five minutes to run through the options and another two to convince himself to make the call. The government might no longer fund his private escapades, but that didn’t mean John got to walk away like he’d done nothing wrong.

  John, Cross, and Sanchez would still die, even if he pulled the trigger himself. With a deep breath, he jabbed his index finger on the green button and waited.

  “Didn’t expect to hear from you,” said a voice on the other end.

  Dane swallowed. “Circumstances have changed. I need your help.”

  _ _ _

  Thank you for reading book two in the No Ordinary Day series. Book three will be out soon!

  Miss the prequel, No Ordinary Escape?

  Learn about Gloria, Raymond and their struggle to reach their cabin today:

  If the power grid collapses, will you be prepared?

  With nothing but time on her hands until she testifies against her employer the following week, Gloria spends her days watching the news and trying not to worry. When reports surface of an imminent geomagnetic storm, she grows worried.

  When the odds are stacked against you, will you adapt in time?