“Where is he now? Your husband?”
“I’m sure not too far behind me.” Her point was simple. She planned to scare him away. No stranger, no matter how gallant, wanted to get involved in a messy divorce. But again, he was no ordinary stranger.
“Was running really a good choice?” If she wanted to divulge information, he’d take all he could get. It would only strengthen the FBI’s case against Mr. Steven Prichard and prove her innocence.
“It was that or stay and live a life worse than death.” Michael stirred in his sleep and she turned teary eyes on him. “My son deserves a better life. He didn’t do anything but be born. Me, on the other hand, I actually made the decision to marry into it.”
Funny. She’d told him her real name and kept saying husband and married. Did she really not understand the trouble she was in? Did she truly believe their marriage was real? The sincerity in her voice tore at his gut. She was hurting from deep gouging wounds he doubted would ever heal.
“Let me help you.” Ryan’s voice sounded strained. He rolled his grip back on forth on the wheel to keep from making another stupid move to touch her. Damn, he needed her to trust him, to believe he wanted to help her with nothing in return.
She didn’t speak. He could see she was struggling to keep the tears from overflowing.
“Don’t say anything yet. Think about it.” He paused to give her time to reflect on his offer. “Okay?”
“Why? I don’t understand why you would want to help me. You don’t know me. What I’ve done. Have no idea what he’s like. What he will do to you if he finds us together.” Her gaze slowly rose to challenge him. There was so much pain in those amazing eyes it caught him off guard. What could he say? Certainly, not the truth. Instead of gaining trust, he’d stirred up a ton of suspicions.
A moment of silence passed so thick it made it difficult to breath.
“I just do.” He zeroed in on her with a look that revealed every emotion he felt. Anger, disgust, disbelief. “No man has the right to hit or hurt a woman.”
More silence. Then just a nod before her head fell into her hands. She tried to hold them back, to keep control, but the tears came. The heavy sobs ripped at his heart and he sat quiet letting her cry. It was her right. She’d been through hell and if crying helped even slightly, she could bawl to her heart’s content. Shit, he almost felt like crying right along with her.
“Let me help you,” he said again after her sobs lessened to a hiccup here and there.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t do that.” She took out a tissue from the scattered contents she’d collected from the floor and blew her nose. “This won’t happen again,” she said. Then she turned to stare back out the window.
He struggled with his own demons. Even after all she’d been through, she was trying to remain strong. He hadn’t met anyone like her since his wife died. If she found out who he really was and who he had ties to, she’d bolt in a heartbeat.
According to the files he’d been privileged to, the FBI had tried several times over the years to get her to talk. They had female undercover agents befriend her, try to give her enough confidence to seek police protection. But she wouldn’t take the chance with her young son’s life. And he honestly didn’t blame her.
Steven Prichard was an evil man. Ryan learned from his own investigating that whenever Makayla left the house on her own, the boy stayed behind either with Steven or his goons. The FBI agents on the case thought she was tied into the money laundering and trafficking schemes, but Steven’s using the boy as collateral was all the proof Ryan needed to verify she was just a pawn in this madman’s dirty little games.
That’s where Ryan came in. A former FBI agent on the Prichard case, as well as too many others to count over the years, he’d made the transition to a private investigator/bounty hunter in order to save his sanity. His decision ended up being just what the doctor ordered. He could watch from a distance. Wait for the perfect opportunity to show itself and then pounce. And pounce he did.
It still baffled him how she managed to leave the estate with Michael in tow. He wanted to know the details of what happened after he last saw her at the mall. She’d had a taxi outside waiting to take them to the airport and he’d followed not long after incapacitating Steven’s goon, Ricky. But how much he could expect Steven to be aware of worried him. How big of a head start did they actually have?
“I’m hungry,” Michael said squirming in the backseat.
“Hang in there, little man. We’ll be in the next town in about ten minutes.”
Makayla didn’t look at Ryan as she twisted on the seat to make it easier to see her son. Ryan’s tone was calm and upbeat as he spoke to her son and he could tell she was intrigued. Only hours before when they first ran into each other, he’d been gruff and unconcerned about her little boy’s needs. Not to mention downright rude and inconsiderate if the truth be told. He’d been worried Steven was already at the airport. Didn’t know how much time they had. Now he was trying to settle into his role. A role she had no intention of letting him audition for much less be cast in. This wasn’t going to be easy.
She watched her son fiddle with the buckle on the seatbelt. “No. Leave it buckled and sit still, sweetheart. It won’t be much longer.”
In the rearview mirror, Ryan saw Michael huff in frustration, his tiny arms crossed against his chest. But the little boy said nothing else as he rocked back and forth against the seat.
“What is the next town?” The leather shifted beneath her weight as she plopped back around to face the front. He flicked a concerned look her way. He didn’t like her tone. She was planning. He could tell by the look on her face.
“Goldfield. But it’s small, really just a hole in the road. There’s a gas station with nice restrooms and plenty of snack foods that will hold us till Indian Springs.”
“Been this way often?” She was studying him now. Her right brow lifted inquisitively.
Damn. He’d slipped. He had little knowledge of Goldfield or Indian Springs for that matter, except what he had been told by the FBI when his surveillance orders turned into delivery orders. Goldfield was an old gold mining town and used to be Nevada’s largest city until the ore ran out. Now the town’s claim to fame was one very haunted Goldfield Hotel. He planned to make their visit brief. Ghosts were not high up on any of his lists. He had way too many past demons of his own to deal with.
He wanted an answer that wasn’t a lie. “No. Can’t say that I have. But I’ve been told it’s a nice place to stretch your legs.” There, that was the truth.
“Is there a working pay phone? My cell’s dead and I forgot the charger.”
“I’m not sure.” He wasn’t about to offer her his. A phone would not be a good idea. He would have to find a way to make certain whatever phone existed suddenly became unavailable or completely out of service. It was imperative he become her only link to freedom.
Chapter Four
Makayla shifted uncomfortably in the passenger seat. With the clear sky and bright sun shining above, the temperature had risen several degrees outside, not to mention inside the cars interior. Ryan noticed her fidgeting right away and reached over to switch the heater off, sending her an apologetic smile.
“Thank you,” she said before turning to watch the scenery fly by. Another act of kindness from a stranger. A man no less. Would wonders ever cease?
They cleared a curve and the water tower for Goldfield came into view. Small didn’t describe the town. Non-existent would be a much better word. Two roads crossed, one paved with a nice yellow stripe down the middle and the other a dirt path. You couldn’t even call it a road. The gas station sat on the opposite corner of the town like a mirage and she blinked, rubbed her eyes, and blinked again to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Just how clean were the restrooms?
“I’ll check them out first if you’d like.” They pulled to a stop in front of one of the two gas pumps and he opened his door.
He’d read her mind. “
No. That’s all right. I’ve pretty much seen it all. After our so-called honeymoon out in the middle of the Louisiana swampland, I’ve learned to carry my own paper and hand wipes.” She felt the skin of her cheeks burn as the color rushed in. Oh, dear. That was a little too personal.
He being a man, and apparently void of ties to the female species, didn’t get her meaning. “Paper?”
Bright red now, Makayla searched for words to explain. “Sometimes people are not considerate. They don’t always have toilet paper available.” If she really wanted to shock the daylights out of him, she could mention hovering and drip-drying. But just thinking about saying it and the reaction she might get made her blush even more. It also reminded her that this man was a stranger.
When a good amount of the embarrassment dissipated, she raised her head to meet his deep blue gaze, hoping her meaning would click. His raised brow said it all. Comprehension flickered from his eyes to his mouth and he smiled sheepishly.
“Sheesh,” he said under his breath before easing his large frame out of the car and removing his coat. She couldn’t help but grin too. A sister or live-in girlfriend must not have been in the cards for him. With this thought came a whole rush of problems that might arise if they continued the trip much farther together. Another reason this wasn’t a good idea.
Ryan draped the coat over the seat and shook his head. Then he closed the door without another word, straightening his broad shoulders as he confidently walked toward the screen door of the old wooden building.
Makayla realized she was staring, but for the life of her couldn’t tear her gaze away or stop herself from wondering what made this man tick. Halfway to the building, he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jeans, the muscles of his arms and back flexing through the thin cotton material of his button down shirt and darned if the most illogical thoughts didn’t start floating through her head.
She swallowed back the knot building at the base of her throat. All her life, she’d dreamed of having someone, a male someone, protect her, hold her, tell her things would be okay. Not having a father growing up had messed with her head. She’d missed feeling secure and loved on some kind of level her mom just couldn’t provide.
Good grief. What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Steven? She’d overlooked dangerous signs, major flaws in his character, in order to find that security.
She couldn’t afford to let her guard down and let it happen again.
The sound of the door squeaked behind her as Michael got out of the car with a puzzled expression and walked up, tippy toeing to see inside her window. She opened her door slowly and spoke softly, trying to assure him he was safe.
“It’s all right. We’re just making a potty stop.”
“But I don’t have to potty, Momma.”
She watched Ryan inside the store through the dusty window. He was walking down the aisles, picking up things and then putting them back. No apparent alarm or worries that she might take off and run. That was a good sign. He was definitely not on Steven’s payroll. He’d never let her out of his sight like this if that was the case. Ryan kept winning points whether she wanted him to or not.
“Come on, sweetie. We’re gonna try. Let’s hurry.” Michael reached up to grab her hand, still unsure about the situation, but willing to trust her. If only she could be that innocent again.
As she walked through the door of the convenience store, she noticed Ryan take a head to toe glance in her direction. Chills raced down her spine at what resembled a glint of masculine approval in those deep blue depths and she quickly looked away.
For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine what he could possibly find attractive with her current appearance. Her short bob had to be a complete mess, her tired eyes smudged with mascara and eyeliner. Yet something sparked his interest and dang if she didn’t like the idea. Warmth spread inside her like a shot of whisky, all the way down.
Not good. Not good at all. Find a phone. That’s all she had to do. Once she contacted her mother, she could make new plans. Forget all these crazy feelings and start a new life.
She tried to swallow, but it took enormous effort. Pitiful. She was scarred-for-life pitiful. Preparing herself to fight off the crazy dizziness swirling the air around her, she dared to meet his gaze again. Ryan’s face was void of any emotion now and she questioned if she’d read more into it. Disappointment oozed all over her body. Stop, she scolded. He’s a man. All men are scum, remember?
But for some odd reason, deep down, she didn’t want this man to be scum and the mere thought scared her to death.
She guided Michael to the back of the store toward the sign that read restroom. A payphone hung on the back wall and her spirits lifted. But the excitement was short lived. Upon further inspection, she noticed that the cord had been pulled out of the receiver and now dangled almost to the floor.
“No.” A heavy sigh escaped with the whispered word. Why did vandals get a kick out of stuff like this? She could just never wrap her mind around that one. The outside of the building hadn’t given her much hope of even finding a phone so this frustration was magnified by the fact she’d come so close.
Neat, clean and organized, the inside of the building looked a hundred percent better than any of the stations she’d ever been to. It smelled of cinnamon and vanilla and thankfully the tiny bathroom followed suit, void of any defacement or damage.
A few minutes later, they were cruising the aisles looking for Michael’s favorite candy bar, her nerves a bit more at ease, but her senses on high alert.
“You ready?” A large hand grazed her shoulder blades. The gentle touch set off a flurry of confusing sensations. “We need to keep moving,” Ryan said. Then added, “In case the storm catches up with us.”
Biting her bottom lip, she punished herself for liking his touch, his voice, his presence. She couldn’t risk trusting him too much. They needed to part ways. The sooner the better.
“Yes, I was looking for something to keep Michael occupied.” She smiled, tilting her head for a better view of his face as he walked past. But instead of moving, he stood his ground behind her, capturing her complete attention for several seconds. What was it she saw in those amazing eyes? A silent plea? A longing to tell her something?
Her throat shriveled dry at just what that might be, and she could barely inhale due to the fact with each breath the tantalizing scent of his cologne, mixed with cinnamon and vanilla, played havoc with her resolve. A spicy musk smell that spoke of integrity and passion. Lots of passion.
She realized his hand still lingered on her back, so light it tickled and soothed at the same time and she had to stifle the urge to grab Michael and run right then and there. Every second spent with this man was dangerous in more ways than one. Oh, boy. She was in more trouble than she cared to admit. Her emotions reminded her of a yo-yo with a very short string.
“Mommy, I found it!” Michael broke the intense moment with his excited chatter and Makayla thought her knees would buckle from relief.
“That’s great, honey. Let’s pay for it and get you buckled back in the car.” Without another word or glance, she took a step to slip past Ryan, but he stopped her, his warm hand moving to capture her elbow. Chills the size of golf balls bombarded her at all the horrific memories that surfaced. But although Ryan’s grip was firm, it was anything but threatening. His harmless action contradicted everything she was accustomed to. The pain. The malicious intent.
“No. Let me get that for him.” As if sensing he’d made her uncomfortable, he released her arm slowly. Rough calloused fingers all but caressed her skin and her heart skipped beats.
“Oh, I couldn’t ask you…”
“I want to,” he said. His deep voice resonated deep within her with so much sincerity, she had to swallow hard and remind herself he was a stranger.
This was not normal behavior for a man. At least not any she’d ever known. Even in high school, the boys had always been so immature and full of it. Then
as she’d made her way through college, she’d discovered them to be self-centered and concerned about one thing. The one thing she was unwilling to give. That usually ended relationships real quick.
That’s why Steven had been able to fool her so easily. He’d been one of the few willing to wait. If their honeymoon was any indication of how that first time would have been before marriage, his reasons made perfect sense. He would not have been kind. Even then.
Unable to speak over the nauseating sensations swarming her, she nodded her approval reluctantly. Then she pushed Michael toward the door and tried to erase the feel of Ryan’s soft touch from her mind.
What she so wanted and needed just couldn’t be.
As they drove out of the parking lot, Michael giggled in the backseat at the toy airplane Ryan secretly purchased for him along with the candy bar. Was this guy for real?
“You didn’t have to do that,” Makayla said, now eyeing Ryan with great interest. She wanted to get inside his head more than ever before. Just what made this man tick and what was he trying to prove?
“No problem.”
The one sentence answers were back along with the tough masculine façade from the airport. She decided it wasn’t that bad. At least it saved her from having to explain anything else in detail.
They drove in silence for the next fifty miles. Then she saw the sign she’d been looking for. Las Vegas. That’s where she and Michael got off this emotional roller coaster ride.
Mind made up, Makayla breathed a sigh of relief. Soon she would be able to just worry about the two of them. Steven would never be the wiser, never know about Ryan and how he’d helped her get out of the airport. Luck was still shining on them.
***
“Steven Prichard, please come to the front desk.”
Makayla’s entire body froze as she skimmed through the toys in the gift shop of the McCarran International Airport in Las Vegas with Michael. Did they just call her husband’s name over the intercom? No. That was impossible. How would he know which way she’d headed after leaving Carson City in that terrible storm?
Betrayals of the Heart Page 4