by Laura Scott
But Brett had always been there, ready to listen when she poured out her loneliness, ready to take on anyone who mistreated her. Not many wanted to mess with one of the school’s star football players, especially one who stood six feet two inches and came in at a hefty 190 pounds.
Normally easygoing, Brett had been fiercely protective of his little sister. Once, when some upperclassmen had backed her against a bank of lockers, calling her “Superbrain,” he’d gotten in their faces and threatened to mop the floor with them. The message had been clear: you want to mess with my little sister, you’ll have to go through me.
No one had ridiculed her again, at least not in Brett’s hearing.
“Yeah. Too bad it didn’t work out.” The rueful tone of his voice told its own story.
“Let me guess. The group met for a few years and then everyone went their own way.”
“Good guess. I still hear from some of them now and then, but everyone is busy with families, jobs. Life.” He lifted a shoulder in a you-know-how-it-is shrug.
“That’s natural.”
Another shrug. “I stay in touch the best I can, but I’m a single parent with a business to run. Any spare time I have is spent with Jonah.”
“You said your son was five? How did he take being sent to his grandparents?”
“He loves them, and they adore him. They couldn’t be happier to have him.”
A smile found purchase on her lips. “Do you have a picture of him?”
“Remember—you asked.” He brought out his phone and scrolled through a couple of pictures. “Never ask a parent if they have pictures of their children. We could spend the next two hours going through them and still not scratch the surface.”
The obvious love for his son warmed her. How cute was it that Liam, a former special ops soldier, like many of S&J’s operatives, could show off pictures of his little boy with unabashed pride and such deep affection that it caused tears to prick her eyes? “You’re a proud father. I get it.”
“Being Jonah’s dad is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. If something were to happen to him...”
The words seemed to have stuck in his throat. To give him time to compose himself, Paige looked away, once again touched by the father’s love for his child.
“And I’m wasting time.” The banter left his tone. “I need help, Paige. Your help.”
“Why me?”
“Because you know the players. Or at least some of them.”
“Correction—I knew the players. They were Brett’s friends. They tolerated me hanging around, but mostly they considered me his bratty little sister, always pestering them. Plus they were three grades ahead of me.”
“And five years older,” he added.
“Don’t remind me.” Her grimace was heartfelt. “Going to high school at twelve was a mistake. My parents tried to tell me, but I insisted that I could handle it. I did all right academically, but I bombed socially. I never fit in. Brett always stood up for me.” She gave a self-deprecatory laugh. “The teachers didn’t know what to make of me, either. It didn’t take long to figure out that I didn’t belong, but I was too proud to admit it.”
“If I remember correctly, you did more than all right academically. You graduated at fifteen with honors, then went on to Ole Miss to study law enforcement. Graduated with honors by the time you were seventeen.”
Surprised and flattered that he knew this, she felt warm color rise to her cheeks and prayed Liam didn’t notice. “How did you know? You were long gone by then.”
“I kept tabs on you.”
She stared at him. She’d never even thought Liam McKenzie knew her first name—she was always Brett’s little sister—and now he told her that he’d kept tabs on her? It was both flattering and disconcerting. She wanted to ask how long he’d kept tabs on her but decided against it.
“Not in some stalkerish way,” he hurried to add. “But your brother died in that accident. I wanted to know how you were doing.”
She didn’t respond immediately. How could she when she had no idea of what to say? She made a point not to look back on those years following the accident. They had passed in a blur of tears on her parents’ part and guilt on her own—guilt that she was alive and Brett wasn’t.
As far back as she could remember, she’d known that Brett was her parents’ favorite. No matter what her accomplishments, she couldn’t compete with the golden boy. For the most part, she’d been okay with it...until he died and she’d witnessed her parents’ marriage slowly die along with him.
She’d attempted to take up the slack, had tried out for sports teams because that’s what Brett had excelled at. Nothing she’d done had been enough, and in the end, she’d quit trying.
“Nothing was ever the same after Brett died,” she said after a long pause. “Our family kept going. Sort of. My parents split up the year I graduated. With Brett gone and me leaving home, there was nothing to keep them together.” She directed a knowing look his way. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You did your best to save the other kids and got out as many as you could.”
“I wish my best had been good enough. For Brett and the others.”
His gaze darkened and locked with hers. Guilt had left a nasty stain upon the boy and the man. She wanted to tell him that guilt never solved anything.
She ought to know, but she couldn’t give advice she’d never taken herself.
* * *
Liam hadn’t made a mistake in coming here and enlisting Paige’s help. She was still the same über-intelligent girl and straight shooter he remembered from high school. The girl who had once been all braces, elbows and knobby knees had grown into a breathtakingly beautiful woman.
Dark red hair, the color of fall leaves, framed a face dominated by high cheekbones and brown eyes with flecks of gold in them. She didn’t try to play up her looks; on the contrary, she wore her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her face was free of makeup. In his eyes, that made her all the more lovely. The appeal was unconventional and altogether unexpected.
Wow.
That had been his first thought.
His second was that he needed to keep his mind on business. He was a target. More importantly, he was all that Jonah had in the way of parents. His wife had taken off shortly after Jonah had been born and hadn’t looked back. Whatever bitterness he’d once felt toward her had long since vanished. She’d given him the most precious of all gifts: his son.
For several years, he’d blamed himself for her desertion. Now he saw it for what it was: selfishness and insecurity on her part. She’d never wanted to be a mother, never wanted the whole family thing that had been his dream—a white picket fence and a big sloppy dog. His success with his software company had been the draw. If he hadn’t been so caught up in his dream of home and family, he’d have seen that she was more interested in his money than in him.
He put aside any attraction he felt for Paige. He wasn’t going down that route again. The only thing he needed from her was to keep him and Jonah safe.
He felt like he’d traveled back in time. He’d spent the last fifteen years trying to forget, and now it was back. With a vengeance. Sometimes it was just too much trouble to keep the memories stored away where they couldn’t hurt him. Sometimes it was best to let them have their way. It looked like this was going to be one of those times.
“Where do you want to start?” he asked.
“Back in Willow Springs. With the families of the kids who died. I’m assuming you have a list.”
He opened his backpack, pulled out a tablet and showed her the list he’d compiled of kids who had died in the accident, their families, addresses and anything else he thought important.
She glanced at it. “Got it.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” She tapped her temple. “Photographic memory.”
“Must come in handy.”
She flashed a grin. “Sometimes.”
He shouldn’t have been amazed, but she’d managed to surprise him all the same. “Any other superpowers you want to share with me?”
“I can’t leap over buildings in a single bound yet, but I haven’t ruled it out.”
“Let me know when you take your first leap.”
“You’ll be the first to know.”
In the parking lot, Liam pointed to his car, a navy Suburban. “I’ll drive.”
“Okay by me.”
Liam pointed the car toward Willow Springs. He hadn’t been back to his hometown since graduating from high school. When his parents had relocated to Savannah, there’d been no reason to return and plenty of reasons not to.
The trip took longer than it should have due to construction and detours. One detour took them deep into the country, where rolling hills and valleys replaced city streets and highways.
As they approached a particularly steep canyon, Liam applied the brakes. Nothing. He repeated the process, then pulled the emergency brake. Same result. He shifted the car into a different gear with the same result. Not only were the brakes out, the steering was gone, as well.
“What’s happening?” Paige’s voice was calm, though he heard the tension underlying the words.
“I don’t have control of the car. I think someone’s hacked into the operating system and taken it over.” Liam did a quick scan of options, none of which he liked. “We have one shot at surviving. And it’s a long one. When the car goes over the edge at the next curve—and it’s going to—we have to jump. Tuck your head inside your arms and jump.”
“Jump? You’re kidding. Right?”
“I wish I were.” He loosened his muscles and undid his seat belt. “Now!”
TWO
Paige jumped.
With her arms crossed over her face, she rolled down the rock-strewn cliff until a stubby tree halted her momentum. Rough bark bit into her arm. The wind knocked out of her, she held on, breathing heavily.
They’d both jumped just as the car went over the edge, Liam on the driver’s side and she out the passenger side. The car tumbled down the side of the canyon and came to rest at the bottom with a crash of metal and glass.
She shuddered at what would have happened if she and Liam had still been in the car. If they hadn’t jumped when they did, they’d undoubtedly be dead.
Liam. Was he all right? She looked about, spotted him about a dozen yards from her position.
“You okay?” he shouted.
“I think so.” She’d be sporting plenty of bruises and scrapes, but nothing felt broken. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it and the ringing in her ears.
“Can you get up?” His voice echoed in the surrounding valleys and hills.
In answer, she braced her back against the tree and tried to stand, grateful to find that her legs were working. Barely. Her right shoulder and arm had taken the brunt of the impact with the tree, and she winced as she tried to move them.
“How are your climbing skills?” he asked.
“Let’s find out.” Now wasn’t the time to tell him that she had an irrational fear of heights. Don’t look down. Keep focused on the next step.
It was painstaking work, their progress measured in inches rather than feet as they clawed their way up the steep grade. Recent rains had turned the hillside into a muddy slide. With her bare hands, she scooped at the wet, crumbly dirt, seeking any handhold.
Kudzu vines covered the hillside, coiling and curling. She used them as anchors when there was nothing else to give her a firm hold.
Half-buried rocks tore at her palms, shredding the skin, but she didn’t let the pain stop her. More than once, she lost her footing. Fortunately, she was able to grab onto something and didn’t follow the path of the car.
Heavy winds whipped through the canyon, fighting her for every inch of progress. They stung her face and made seeing beyond her next handhold nearly impossible. Still, she kept climbing.
She refused to let wind, mud and gravity defeat her, but for every step she took forward, she slid back two. Fury at whoever had hacked into Liam’s car propelled her forward when it would have been easier to give up.
“Need help?” Liam said when she stumbled for what seemed the hundredth time.
She was no rock climber, but she could handle this. Irked that he thought she couldn’t, she said a curt, “No, thanks.”
But her foot slipped as soon as the words were out. She grabbed the first thing within reach and found herself hanging from an offshoot of a tree, a flimsy thing when she thought of the distance to the bottom of the hill.
Suspended over the canyon, she clung to the branch for all she was worth. Slick with blood and mud, her hands slipped, and she doubled down on her grip. Another minute, two at the most, she’d lose her tenuous hold altogether or the branch would break beneath her weight. Either way, the consequences would be the same.
She struggled to steady her breathing. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help.
Think.
But the silent command did little good when her heart was caught in her throat and her hands skidded farther and farther down the branch.
Thank You, Lord, for always being here for me. If this is it, I know You have another plan in store for me, something wonderful. I pray that I can be worthy of it. The silent prayer took hold in her heart and soothed the ragged edges of her fear.
The Lord was in charge.
Calmer now, she turned her focus to getting out of this. Depending upon the Lord was second nature, but she knew that He expected her to do her part.
“Hold on.”
She turned her head to see Liam moving in her direction.
He came to a halt and clung to an impossibly narrow ledge. There were no further handholds for him to get closer. “Can you swing yourself over here?” He stretched out his arm.
“It’s too far. I can’t reach you.”
“Jump. I’ll catch you.”
“Again with the jump?” she asked and made the mistake of looking down. The view stole her breath and her hard-won calm. Sweat formed at her temples, trickled down her cheeks onto her neck. She started to wipe it away and nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the idea. She was holding on for dear life and was troubled by a few droplets of sweat?
Get a grip, girl.
“Don’t.” The single word, barked in a loud voice, came out as a command. “Don’t look down. Just jump toward me. I’ll catch you. That’s a promise.”
When she hesitated, he said, “Look at me, Paige.”
She did and saw the steady assurance in his eyes.
“I don’t break my promises.” He flashed a confident grin her way.
Could she do it?
Would Liam catch her?
Did she trust him with her life?
With a start, she realized that none of that mattered. The real question, the only question that truly mattered, was did she trust the Lord?
With a prayer on her lips, Paige jumped.
Again.
* * *
Liam caught her wrist and, for one breath-stealing moment, she dangled over the canyon. Buffeting winds sent her swaying back and forth, anchored only by Liam’s hand.
Veins protruded from his heavily muscled arm as he took her weight. With a grunt of effort, he swung her to the narrow ledge where he stood. He shifted so that she faced the earthen wall, sheltering her from the wind with his body.
Her heart did a series of somersaults as she realized how close she’d come to dying. The Lord, with Liam’s help, had saved her.
“It’s okay.” The words whispered against her neck, and she shivered in response.
“Thank you,” she said when she found her voice, though it came out as a croak. She t
ried again. “Thank you.”
“Catch your breath, then go ahead of me,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
The last thing she wanted to do was to start up the cliff again. They had at least fifty feet to go. Could she do it?
“We’ll make it,” he said.
“Another promise?”
“Yeah. And I always keep my promises.”
With painstaking care, she reached for a tree root, grabbed on and pulled herself up. Another step. When she felt like she couldn’t lift her arms one more time, Liam encouraged her.
“You can do it. I know it.”
She reached the top and collapsed on the rough ground. So grateful that she was still in one piece, she scarcely noticed the rocks poking through the thin cotton of her shirt or that her arm ached unbearably. With what seemed monumental effort, she rolled over and stared up at the sky. The blue had never looked more blue, the clouds never more billowy.
Liam knelt over her. “You were great back there.”
“Not so great. If it hadn’t been for you...” She shuddered at what would have happened.
He stood, then reached out a hand to pull her up. “You’d have figured it out. You’re too stubborn to let a little bitty hill get the best of you.” The teasing note in his voice was softened by the warmth of his eyes as they rested on her.
She choked out a laugh. “Little bitty hill?”
“Sure. Compared to the mountains in Afghanistan, that one was little bitty.”
“If you say so.” A smile tugged at her lips, then disappeared as she considered their circumstances. At the same time, another spear of pain radiated through her arm. The grimace that escaped her lips had Liam frowning.
“What’s going on?”
“My arm got banged up a little. No big deal.”
“Let me have a look.” Gently, he probed her arm and shoulder. “It’s not broken, but it’s pretty badly sprained.” At her look of surprise, he said, “I had some medic training. Not a lot but enough to recognize the difference between a break and a sprain.” He tore off a sleeve from his shirt and used it to fashion a crude sling. “That should do for now.”
