Ryder

by Diana Gardin

  “Lobelia, can you slow down for me? I’m looking for Frannie right now. Do you have a location on her? And are you safe?”

  A strangled sob comes through the other end of the line. Ben shoves me from the other seat. His voice is urgent. “Hang up. Sayward knows which airport. We’re on our way.”

  I shake my head, putting Lobelia on speaker. She keeps talking. “She met me with some man at a gas station across from Ellis Airport in Jacksonville. They made me give them the baby, and I think they were going to meet Eli at the airport and fly away with her! Oh God. I did the wrong thing. I did the wrong thing, didn’t I?”

  I swallow. “You did the right thing calling me. And now we know where she is. We’re on our way there now to get her, Lobelia. I want you to call the number I’m about to give you. It’s my boss, Jacob Owen. He’s going to pick you up and make sure you’re safe. Okay?”

  She’s crying in earnest now. “Okay. Please find them. Frannie’s my best friend and that baby…she’s been my whole life.”

  I allow my eyes to drift closed and hope I’m not telling her a lie. “I promise you, I will find them. And I’ll bring them home.”

  While Grisham drives, Lawson evaluates the aerial-view map that Sayward sends us of the area surrounding the Ellis airport. The area is heavily forested, and there’s a back access road that can be used to access the airport apart from the main entrance. Lawson holds up the map on his tablet, pointing to the back road.

  “This is where we enter. We’re going in hot, because Ward wants Frannie and the baby on that plane and he wants it to happen yesterday. We don’t have time for anything once we get there but to act.”

  The words he doesn’t say hang in the air between us all, heavy with unspoken meaning.

  If it’s not already too late.

  “When’s that damn call coming in?” I growl, my leg bouncing even more furiously as the miles fly by out the window.

  “Any minute now. Sayward should know whether or not the flight has taken off.” Grisham’s response is immediate. “Ten miles out. Everyone ready?”

  Grisham’s phone rings, and he answers the call through the Bluetooth. Sayward’s voice comes through the Suburban’s speakers.

  “Eli Ward is Interpol’s problem now. That flight took off eight minutes ago.”

  Something inside me curls up and dies. My chest just…deflates. It feels like someone dropped an anvil on my chest and left it there; breathing is impossible. Leaning forward, I lower my head between my knees, not sure if my next breath will come.

  “Sorry, guys,” Sayward is saying. “We were just at a time disadvantage. But something happened out there at that airport, because there’s no woman and baby on the manifest. Frannie’s not on that flight.”

  I gasp for air, my head coming up and my eyes going wide. “What’d you just say?” My voice is hoarse.

  “You heard me,” she answers, voice triumphant. “Your girl’s still out there somewhere, Wolf. You need to go and get her.”

  Grisham ends the call and takes a quick look into the rearview. “Change of plan, then. Kind of sucks we don’t get to shoot Eli Ward in the balls, but the plan was always Frannie, right? We’re going in on the main airport road. Let’s just see what we find.”

  Determination sinks into my bones, spreading a new energy through me like an injection. “Place is gonna be crawling with cops soon. I want to get Frannie and get out before that happens. The last thing she needs is to be interrogated tonight. Especially when they’re the ones who fucked up. Let them figure out what the hell happened with Ward.”

  Next to me, Ben lifts his chin. “Agreed. Search and rescue, then.”

  A few minutes later, the Suburban is flying up the road leading to the small airport. When we pull up to the parking lot in front of the terminal entrance, we can see several small planes sitting in hangars and a couple waiting on the runway. There’s another SUV in the parking lot, and the passenger-side door stands open.

  There’s no sign of Frannie or anyone else.

  “This being such a small airport, all the shady shit that probably went down here tonight hasn’t even been called in yet,” Bain mutters under his breath as we pile out of the Suburban.

  We move in formation, Grisham staying behind the wheel of our vehicle, eyes open and engine idling. He’s ready to pull us out if he needs to, but everything is quiet around us. Too quiet.

  Ben and Lawson fan out, rifles lifted while they turn in every direction, searching. Bain and I approach the SUV. Walking up to the passenger side, I notice a diaper bag on the floor. Then I take note of the man sitting in the driver’s seat. Nodding at Bain to indicate he go around to that side, I take him in.

  It’s Russ Walker. He’s been shot, a bullet hole in his neck just under his jaw. His eyes are closed, head lolled against the seat. Bain opens the driver’s-side door and checks for a pulse.

  He shakes his head. “Dead.”

  I blow out a breath. “Frannie. Fuck.”

  I swivel around, searching. Where are you, baby?

  We reconvene at the Suburban.

  “She killed him,” I said. “That’s how she escaped. He didn’t know who he was messing with. She shot him so she could run with the baby.” I glance around me, taking note of the tree line about thirty feet away.

  Inclining my head in that direction, I can almost see Frannie running with her baby clutched to her chest, scared out of her mind and sobbing. If she’d just shot a man, not sure if she’d taken his life or if he’d come after her, she’d be running for her life.

  “She’s in the woods.” My adrenaline ramps up a notch. “She’s got the baby, no supplies. We need to get to her, and soon.”

  Lawson shoulders his rifle. “Then let’s do that. She can’t have gotten far. We’ll fan out. Ghost can take the Suburban out and follow the road around the woods, in case she made it back out there. We’ll stay on comms and speak up as soon as one of us finds her.”

  “Them,” I correct him. “We’re looking for my girl and her baby.”

  They all look at me, serious expressions on their faces. They understand exactly what I mean.

  25

  FRANNIE

  When the sun crests the horizon, I know Dove and I might be in trouble. There’s no way I can hike for very long on a ninety-plus-degree day carrying Dove with no food or water.

  There’s one positive thing, one thing that lets me know I did what I set out to do: I saw a small private plane take off from the runway a mile behind me. It lifted over the tops of the trees, sweeping into the still-dark sky and off into the distance, its lights fading into the navy expanse until they blended in with the dots of stars blanketing the horizon.

  Laughter bubbled up inside me, and a whoop of triumph escaped my throat as I brushed a gentle hand over Dove’s silken curls.

  I’d kept her away from Eli.

  “We’re safe, baby girl. He can’t hurt us anymore.” I dropped a kiss on top of her head and kept marching forward.

  But I had no clue where I was going. And although I grew up in Oklahoma, I grew up in the suburbs. I might know how to use a firearm, but I have no clue how to keep myself alive in the woods. I don’t know if I’ve been hiking deeper into the huge forest surrounding the airport, or whether I’m heading toward civilization. As the sun dances higher toward the clouds, I remember the backpack on my shoulders.

  “Let’s stop and take a breath, okay, Dove-girl? I want to see what Auntie Lo put in your bag.”

  Coming to a halt, I spot a fallen log and sit, pulling the pack off my shoulders and placing it on the ground beside my feet. Holding Dove on one knee and securing my arm around her waist, I use my other arm to unzip the bag and start pulling out the contents.

  Diapers and wipes. Water bottles. Crackers. Empty baby bottles for Dove. An extra outfit and bibs for Dove. Pouches of baby food, the formula she drinks. The sling wrap I can use to carry her without having to hold her.

  And down at the bottom of the bag…a b
urner phone.

  Tears. Actual, real tears of joy spring to my eyes.

  The woods wake up with the sun, birds beginning to sing and chatter in the trees overhead. The day is warm and heavy and still, sticky in the Carolina summer. As the day goes on, my clothes will stick to me, and I’ll worry about sunburn and dehydration. The tree cover of the forest will be a good thing.

  My head drops back and my eyes burn. Blue patches of sky peek through diamond-shaped holes in the canopy.

  “Your auntie is a real savior, baby girl. You know that?” My whisper disappears into the humid air and I swipe at the moisture clinging to my eyelashes.

  Dove coos, one of the first sounds she’s made in a while. She’s been quiet as a mouse since we’ve been hiking through the forest. At one point, I thought she’d fallen back asleep, but when I checked, her eyes were wide open, taking everything in.

  I pull out one of the bottles, and she immediately starts to squirm in my lap. Her eyes widen, and her little hands turn to fists as her fingers open and close, trying to grab for the bottle.

  “Ah. There’s my hungry girl. Let Mama make it.”

  Dumping the formula pack into the bottle, I pour in some water and shake it. Then I hand it to Dove. While she drinks, settled against my chest, I pull out the phone and turn it on. The screen flashes, telling me that I have no signal.

  “Damn,” I murmur. “We’re going to have to walk a little farther, sweet girl.”

  My legs protest at the thought. I’m in decent shape, but running a mile through the woods at a clip in the dark was about all I had in me for today. I’m not a runner by nature, for Christ’s sake.

  I pull the changing pad from the back of the bag and spread it on the leaves, then lay Dove on top of it. It takes me a couple of minutes to change her diaper and then wrap her in the sling against my chest. I face her forward so that she can see, her legs hanging out. Her pink feet bounce happily in their pink socks, and I place her empty bottle back in the pack. As I hand her a pouch of baby plums, she makes happy slurping noises as she eats. I take a pack of crackers and eat, chugging a bottle of water.

  “In a little bit, Mama’s going to have to use nature’s bathroom. But I can wait.”

  “Coo,” answers Dove.

  “Yep. We better get walking. We might have a long way to go today.” Placing the bag back on my shoulders, I turn to lead us in the direction I hope will take me to a road.

  And out from behind a tree steps Eli Ward.

  I stumble backward, almost falling over the log that just gave me refuge.

  Oh, shit. I’m hallucinating. I didn’t think I was that tired. Eli isn’t here, Frannie. Get your shit together, and do it now. Dove needs you.

  Somehow saving myself from falling, I right myself and stand completely still, frozen in place on the forest floor. The forest that seemed so awake moments ago now lulls, all movement and sound coming to a halt around me. The bird conversations drift away on the breeze; the rustling of animals in the trees and bushes nearby goes silent.

  The wood is watching, waiting for the apparition in front of me to disappear.

  Just like I am.

  But Eli doesn’t move. He stands there wearing an expression on his face that I’ve never seen before.

  Eli looks the same as he always has, except for the fact that he’s more dressed down than I can recall seeing him in a long time. Eli was already running a business when we met. He swept me off my feet with dinners and expensive cars and fancy trips, and he was almost always in a suit. He liked to rub elbows with legitimate corporate players, even though he wasn’t one. He looked the part.

  Here, in the woods, Eli’s wearing dark jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. His feet are clad in sneakers, and I’m guessing that whoever brought him clothes to change into didn’t think a suit would be practical for a jail escape. Eli was probably pissed.

  He probably planned to change as soon as he arrived in Switzerland.

  Oh God, why isn’t he disappearing?

  Eli’s dark brown hair has grown out longer than he used to keep it, long enough for slick curls to form on top. His golden complexion is thanks to his Italian heritage on his mother’s side, and he’s always prided himself on his handsome face, the muscular body that he spends hours working on in the gym, and his stellar sense of style.

  I blink rapidly, trying to force his image away. The day is only going to get hotter, and Dove and I need to keep moving. I need to find a road or a place where there’s signal so I can call Ryder for help.

  Ryder.

  Just thinking of him sends a jolt of pain arcing through my body. I want his strong arms wrapped around me and my daughter so badly right now it physically aches to think about it.

  “You’re not here,” I rasp. My voice has suddenly stopped working. “You got on a plane to Switzerland.”

  I realize Eli’s eyes aren’t aimed at me; he’s staring at our daughter. Glancing down at Dove, I find that she’s fallen asleep. She’s dropped the pouch of plums and her head lolls to one side as her arms and legs dangle.

  Eli finally meets my eyes, his dark brown ones bringing an intensity I can’t handle. There’s hunger in his gaze, mixed with ferocious anger and his usual impatience. But there’s also…wonder?

  “That’s our baby.” There’s an accusation in his words. “You lied to me. To everyone. You said she died. But this is our baby…right here.”

  I take two tiny running steps backward, my eyes wild. My heart hammers, trying hard to escape the cage in my chest.

  “Why aren’t you on that fucking plane?” My words are a whisper-shout.

  He looks down at Dove again, and now I pinpoint the expression that settles in his eyes again. It’s love.

  Eli loves our daughter.

  And I can decipher it because it quickly changes from love to possession. It’s penned all across his expression like words in a diary; he couldn’t hide it from me even if he wanted to.

  He loved me once too. In the beginning, he loved me enough to put me up on a pedestal and buy me pretty things. He loved me the way he thought a man was supposed to love a woman. But somewhere along the way in his life, the concept of love was twisted, ruined. He never shared himself with me, never allowed me to become his partner in three years together the way Ryder had in mere weeks. He never showed me his soft side, never let himself be vulnerable with me.

  And when I didn’t behave the way Eli thought I should, or when something wasn’t absolutely perfect the way he expected it to be, he hurt me. It was consequential in his mind. And Eli wasn’t the kind of man who apologized for it later. He forced me to accept my consequences, and he explained why it was happening. And later, he spoiled me harder to show what a good provider and husband he was.

  This can’t happen.

  This can’t happen.

  Not again.

  Eli takes a step forward. “She’s mine. You both are. I would never leave the country without you, Francesca. My name is on the flight manifest, along with one of the officers who were on my payroll. They’ll think I’m gone.”

  My heart sinks. “You can’t have her, Eli.”

  He steps forward again, this time walking until he reaches me. I could turn and run, but he’d just catch me. I have Dove strapped to my chest, and Eli’s much-longer strides would cut mine in half.

  He stops just in front of me, staring down. He’s not quite as tall as Ryder, but he’s over six feet and dwarfs me. Old habits die hard, and I cringe, waiting for a blow that doesn’t come. Eli just stares down at me, his deep-set eyes unblinking.

  “I can have you. I’ve always had you. You’ve just been lost. We’re going to start all over in Switzerland. We’ll be a family. It’ll be perfect. We can have more kids.”

  Every part of my body trembles with his words. Because I can picture it in my head. Everything he’s saying. The life he’s talking about would be stunning. A picture-perfect, beautiful nightmare. I can’t go with Eli. I can’t have a life with him. I can�
�t live with a man, build a life with a man, start a family with a man who loves me by hurting me.

  I’m too strong for that now.

  I’m not Francesca anymore, I’m Frannie. And Frannie knows how to defend herself. She’s not a doormat. She doesn’t get her head turned by pretty things. She doesn’t let her parents tell her what she should and shouldn’t do. She doesn’t let her image and a town’s opinion of it influence her. And she damn sure doesn’t allow a man back into her life who beat the ever-loving shit out of her and almost made her lose her baby.

  I look up at Eli and plaster the most sincere expression I can on my face. I channel Francesca, way, deep down where I locked her away. And I nod. “Okay, Eli. It’s going to take me a while, but I can get back to a place where I trust you again. But you have to promise you won’t hurt me or Dove. That’s the only way this will work. Otherwise I’m always going to want to run away.”

  Lies. Give him lies, but make them sound like your truth.

  He flinches like I’ve slapped him. “Is it too late to change her name?”

  My hands ball into fists and I wish I had my gun. Either one of them. I close my eyes briefly to steady myself and to keep the anger from exploding out of me.

  Because where Francesca used to be laden with fear, Frannie seems to be chock-full of hissing, boiling rage.

  And Eli is what brings it out of me.

  So I just open my eyes wider and nod. “Yes, it’s too late. Why, don’t you like it?”

  He squints down at her. “I, uh…Sure, babe. I’ll get used to it. And your little deal? You know that’s not how life works. You get what you earn. If you behave the way you’re supposed to…”

  I heave a big fake sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry. We’ll work on it. Do you know how to get us out of these woods?”

  Eli grabs my hand and turns us in a slow circle, frowning. “We must have pulled up not long after you shot Walker. You dropped one of the baby’s blankets, and I figured out which direction you ran. I followed you into the woods and caught your footsteps in the ground. I just followed you and heard you talking to the baby. Watched you for a while. I’m not a woodsman.”