by Rosie Vanyon
But in the same moment, the thief whirled around, yanked open the truck door, shoved Cara roughly back into the cab and pulled the driver’s door closed behind him. In the next heartbeat, he hit the accelerator.
****
Oh, shit! Levi thought. Shit, shit shit. It was not the most eloquent, but it was apt and pretty much summed up his current predicament, he figured.
The thief had taken off in his truck, which was bad enough, but worse, Cara was trapped inside with the scumbag. The last thing Cara had said was “knife.” If the guy was armed, who knew what could happen next? The possibilities flooded his mind—rape, maiming, murder… His fear kicked up a couple thousand notches.
What to do? He could call Brian, if his phone wasn’t charging in the truck’s console.
He could make chase.
On foot? he thought.
He glanced at the Ducati.
No…
Bile rose in his throat and sweat gathered like torrential rain. His heart thundered in his chest as though he’d let loose a herd of wildebeest. His breath wouldn’t come.
I’ll never ride again. His own words from last night blasted through his head, pinging and echoing like some sick pinball game.
But even as his body tried to shut down and his mind blew all of its fuses, his heart calmly and firmly took over. Only one thing mattered—saving Cara. He ignored the nausea and wiped the sweat out of his eyes. He forced himself to suck in air and retrieved the helmet from the gutter, shoving it on his head with shaking hands. In record time, he rammed the keys into the shiny, obviously newly fitted ignition, thumbed the starter, flicked up the side-stand, kicked the bike into gear, and took off after the Tacoma.
The truck was little more than a silver smudge in the distance, but the bike was swift and nimble and it ate up tarmac like a hungry road dragon. If he’d had a moment to pause and take it all in, he might have noticed how much he was loving the feel of being on two wheels again, how riding, especially fast, was more like flying. But he only had room in his thoughts for Cara’s release.
If the guy didn’t kill her with his crazy-ass driving, he might take to her with his knife. And that simply could not happen.
Levi never thought he’d see the day when he thought a speed trap was a blessing, but as he followed the careening truck past a lurking police car, his heart leapt and he pumped his fist in the air. As the cruiser’s siren started blaring and the police car fell in behind him, Levi offered up a silent prayer of thanks. He only hoped the two vehicles now in pursuit of the truck wouldn’t spook the young driver into doing something even more stupid.
They were out of suburbia and on the old highway. Though superseded by a modern motorway, the old road remained the primary scenic route for the county, popular with tourists and locals alike. It was a winding road dotted with wineries, farms selling fresh produce, craft and antique stores, and picturesque ocean view lookouts. The road surface was not the best, but Levi artfully dodged the odd bump and pothole, determined to stay on the Tacoma’s tail. He forced his mind away from memories of school children and construction sites and fixated on the task at hand—coming to Cara’s rescue. Failing simply wasn’t an option, fear was redundant. He had to make this work, whatever it took.
The truck roared past farm gates, fruit stands, cellar door sales, and quaint guesthouses, recklessly overtaking the occasional scooter or rental car in its path. Levi rode hard, right on the thief’s tail, so he was utterly surprised when the Tacoma suddenly swerved hard right up a side road. Levi overshot the turnoff, swearing and banging his fist on his thigh before pulling a wild U-turn just in time to see the police car fishtail along the exit in pursuit of the truck. For the first time, he caught a clear view of the uniformed driver and was at once grateful and a little irked to find Brian Shepherd behind the wheel.
At least the cop didn’t follow me and ditch the truck, Levi thought as he cranked the throttle, navigated the hairpin exit and followed the strobing red and blue lights up the side road toward what a tourist sign told him was Lighthouse Bay Lookout.
The road curled and climbed steeply for a mile or so. It was hard to judge the exact distance at the crazy speeds he was pushing. A glance at the speedometer placed the needle in the red zone. At the same time, he saw the fuel warning light flicker, then glow steadily. This chase needed to wind up really soon, or his engine would sputter and die and he’d have to trust Brian to extricate Cara. Conceivable, but far from ideal. Could this day get any worse?
A moment later, he wanted to kick himself for asking.
He rode the bike over the crest, ignoring the vast ocean vista and dividing his attention between his own bearings and the movements of the truck as it hurtled down the slope toward the observatory. He didn’t like what he saw. The lookout was essentially a football-field-sized asphalt circle at the brink of a rocky outcrop. It was fenced flimsily to discourage visitors from getting too close to the sheer cliff edge.
The luxury coach parked on the far right was unloading elderly camera-laden tourists.
“Déjà vu,” Levi muttered, thinking blackly that at least the human obstacles were slower moving this time round.
A fat trickle of sweat rolled down his back. Cara.
But that thought offered no comfort. If the Tacoma didn’t slow down or change direction in the next thirty or so seconds, it would go smashing through the fence and tumble down the rocky cliff that dropped hundreds of feet below.
He couldn’t lose her. Not now when he’d only just found her. He’d guessed the previous evening that she was “the one,” that they were destined to be together. He could no more hold back the ugly truth about himself last night than he could have stood by and let that bastard steal her away in his truck today. He had needed to show her who he really was, needed to know that she could accept the frightened, compromising dark side of his soul as well as the more public, assured front.
And while it had been a harrowing experience to wrench the story out of himself and lay himself bare for her, he had never for a moment doubted her compassion and understanding. She was a gentle soul. She would be kinder to him than he could ever be to himself. She would forgive him where he couldn’t forgive himself. And she had. Although much to his relief, she hadn’t said the words. In that moment, words would have been inadequate. Instead, she had held him and taken him inside her body and loved him like no other would or could.
They were soulmates, no question. Whatever happened or didn’t happen, they belonged together—two halves of a whole. And he was damned if he was going to let his other half be driven off a cliff by a thieving maniac.
But how to stop them? He had maybe twenty seconds to come up with a plan.
His brain whirled like a super computer, but nothing useful tallied. He realized, as he swung the bike around the last two downward curves, that if he didn’t hit the brakes soon, he would go over the edge right after them.
Seventeen seconds…
Once again, Levi shut down his brain and handed the reins over to his heart. Against all common sense and flying in the face of basic physics, he gunned the engine, dumped the gear lever down a couple of clicks, and gave the 800CC engine everything it had. The bike was howling like a herd of panicked horses, barely in his control as he fought to overtake the police car.
Just get to Cara.
He held his breath as he squealed past the police car, almost connecting with its rear end as the car’s tires slid and swung out from the gravel shoulder. He ignored the near miss that would have killed him and focused on getting in front of the truck.
Twelve seconds…
He overtook the truck, kicking up rocks in the narrow, twisty space between the Tacoma and the rock wall he was riding hard up against. He half expected the truck to steer hard right and mash him into the cliff face, but he could see that scrawny guy’s attention was on Cara, not the bike. Levi was still not sure how this nightmare was going to play out, completely unprepared for a rocky death and equally unw
illing to write Cara off.
Nine…
They were in the circular lookout proper now and a few of the old folks had registered the oncoming commotion but had not had time to move out of the way. The Tacoma was headed straight for the cliff edge. It seemed inevitable that it would smash through at least a handful of tourists en route, directly in its path.
Four…
Three things happened at once—Levi screeched in front of the truck, blocking its way to the abyss, the truck slowed, veered right, and crashed into the coach, and a gunshot rang out.
****
The truck crashed so slowly that the airbags didn’t even deploy. While she rocked forward in her seat, there was no danger of whiplash or that Cara would bang her head on the dash.
She turned to the wild-eyed young man beside her and gave his arm a firm squeeze, “You’re doing the right thing.”
“That copper…he just shot at me!” the guy blubbered, his hands shaking too hard to undo his seatbelt.
“I think you’ll find he shot at the tires, not at you. And, isn’t it better to be sitting here discussing gunshots than being aerated or worse, bear dinner down that cliff?”
“I guess so, ma’am.”
“You just tell the officer what you told me and things will turn out fine.” She watched Levi approach at a run, his face as dark as thunder. “Probably stay out of my boyfriend’s way, though.”
Boyfriend… She smiled at the sound of the word. It was cutesy and a bit childish, yes, but it melted her like a witch in water.
Levi wrenched open the passenger door just as Brian approached the driver’s side with his gun drawn.
Glancing between the gun and Levi, the driver raised his hands in surrender. Maybe it was shock, but Cara started to giggle.
“I hardly think this is something to laugh about,” Levi roared before yanking Cara into his arms and kissing her until they were both dizzy. “Don’t you ever do that to me again!”
“Me? What about you, riding like a Hell’s Angel?”
He kissed her again, hard, urgent.
“Just don’t scare me like that again. You can’t go and get yourself killed. We belong together, you and me. You’re mine.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cara watched Mia talking with Levi. She was walking him through their mother’s tomato relish recipe, the one Cara had never been able to wheedle out of her sister. It seemed Mia had joined the Levi Callister fan club. Cara totally got it. More than even hokey pokey ice cream, Levi was irresistible.
Hmmm… Ice cream/Levi. Her brain went into dizzying day dreams involving Levi and a tub of hokey pokey, with not a spoon in sight. He glanced over as she moistened her bottom lip and his eyes lit up with shared mischief.
Cara’s suspicion had been correct—Mia hadn’t known Freya had invited her to help celebrate her birthday. Luckily, their tales of the morning’s adventure dissipated any bad feelings that might have arisen with Cara’s unexpected arrival.
Cara took the other adults’ busyness as an opportunity to congratulate Freya on her birthday.
“Here’s a little gift from me,” Cara told the girl, feeling oddly uneasy as she handed over the wrapped package. What if her niece didn’t like the gift?
The girl’s squeals of delight when she pulled the paper aside were worth all Cara’s nervousness and angst.
“I’ve wanted an iPad for, like, ever!” the little girl breathed, her eyes Frisbee-wide as her siblings cooed with admiration and envy.
“It’s the latest one, too,” Josie enthused. “And there’s heaps of memory.”
“Can I have a go?” asked Liam.
All the commotion drew Levi and Mia out of the kitchen.
“Oh, Cara! No, no, no! You mustn’t. You’ll spoil her…”
Though Freya’s eyes filled with tears, her look was pure challenge as she scowled at her mother and hugged the box tightly to her chest.
Cara saw Levi lay a hand on Mia’s arm and give her a smile that sucked all the oomph out of her protests and left her clucking and shaking her head, but with an indulgent smile. “Did you thank your Aunt Cara?”
“Thank you, Auntie Cara!” Freya obediently gushed, her face the epitome of relief. “Can you help me make it go?”
“I might be able to give you a hand,” a man’s voice boomed from the open back door.
Everyone fell silent and turned to the unexpected newcomer.
Tall, black hair, brown eyes, chinos, a man bag, Cara registered. Joe?
“Daddy!” Freya shrieked, abandoning the new electronic device and running to throw her arms around her estranged father.
Cara’s eyes flew to Mia, who was as pale as flour and looking woozy. Levi was helping her to a dining chair.
Clearly, Cara wasn’t the only secretly invited birthday guest.
****
“So, you’re telling me you talked the crazy carjacker into stopping?” Mia asked incredulously as she poured tea and coffee for Joe, Cara, and Levi.
“He was just a scared kid,” Cara assured them all. “He’d just dug himself into the gang culture and he was afraid of the repercussions if he tried to get out. Luckily, Brian knows the kid’s parents and remembers him as a little tacker. I don’t think the law will be too hard on him. All he needs is a fresh start.”
“She says about the guy who kidnapped her at knifepoint!” Levi sputtered.
“Hey, I wasn’t the one playing Evel Kinevel on a cliff edge!”
“What was I supposed to do, just let him steal my truck and my girl?”
Cara’s face lit up with what was becoming a stupid smile.
“What?” he demanded.
“Say that again.”
“Say what again? Just let him…oh! My girl.”
He squeezed her hand. He had barely let her out of touching distance since he’d lifted her down from the truck cab and laid that pulse-spiking, breath-plundering, skin-sizzling kiss on her lips.
“Look at you two!” tsked Mia, placing steaming mugs on the table. “You’re a goofy pair. I’m going to call the kids in for some party food. Stop making goo-goo eyes or you’ll scare them.”
Cara and Levi just beamed happily at each other.
****
No one was really hungry after the afternoon’s party fare, but they nibbled on paté, cheese, and fruit as the men drank beers and the women sipped spritzers at the glass-topped table on Mia’s patio.
The children had finally put the iPad aside after being threatened with its confiscation if they were going to stay glued to Plants Versus Zombies all day. The three of them were playing fairies under the elm tree in the twilit yard.
“I’m a boy fairy!” Liam was insisting.
“There’s no such thing!” argued Josie.
“He can be an elf,” said Freya. “Elves can be boys.”
“See, I’m an elf! So there!”
“Well if you’re a boy elf, you don’t need wings or a fairy crown,” said Josie fiercely, snatching the boy’s tiara and reaching for his wings. “Give them to me.”
“No! I’m a boy elf with wings!” Liam shouted, taking off around the yard with Josie in hot pursuit.
Predictably, Liam tripped and fell, taking Josie down with him. Both children bawled while Freya helped them up, and Mia and Cara ambled over to help comfort them, picking up battered wings and dinged jewels and promising Dora Band-Aids and hot chocolate.
Cara plopped back down at the table while Mia herded the children inside to help them get ready for bed.
“I don’t know how she does it,” Cara murmured, her eyes darting to Joe as she realized she may have just made a gaffe, seeing as he was the one who had left Mia to raise the children alone.
Joe raised a conciliatory hand. “No, no. Fair point. I took off. I deserve the barb.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“I know you didn’t, Cara.”
“She misses you, you know.”
“Freya? Yeah, she said so in her invitation.”
“I meant Mia.”
Joe sighed and put down his beer. “I miss her, too. I just don’t know where to go with that feeling.”
“Turning up is a good start,” said Cara. “Maybe you should talk to Mia about it.”
Levi squeezed her hand and Cara took the hint and shut her mouth. She swallowed the last of her white wine and trundled off to say her goodbyes to the sleepy kids and her sister.
“I’m staying right out of it,” she heard Levi laugh as she walked away.
Joe’s answering chuckle and, “I don’t blame you” told her the two men had taken to one another, on some level at least.
Cara found the three kids splashing each other in the bathtub with Mia making a show of supervising them. But the look in her eyes was far away.
“Don’t stress, Mia. Just take it one day at a time.”
“What would you know about it, Cara?” Mia snapped.
“Hey, that’s unfair.”
“You’re right, it was nasty and wrong. I can see how you and Levi are great together.”
Cara blushed. She stepped over the pile of clothes and toys discarded on the wet tiles and put her arm around her sister.
“Anyway, I just don’t know what to do with him. Why did he even come today?” asked Mia, as though the answers might magically appear in the steamed up mirror.
“Why don’t you ask him? Look, Levi and I are heading off. It’s been a massive day. I’ll come by in a few days and we can talk?”
“Thanks. I’d like that. And about the film…?”
“Yeah. We need to talk about that, too! There’s a letter you have to see.”
At that moment, the tiara that had been at the center of the children’s skirmish caught Cara’s eye. Her heart pounded. It was a gold half coronet embedded with jewels—tiny little diamonds, a few little sapphires, and one enormous dark blue stone. It was a deep navy teardrop the size of Liam’s fist. Surely it was paste. The kids had been playing with it for years. Alessandra wouldn’t have been so careless? Would she? Could it be?
Cara reached for the tiara. It was substantial. Strong metal and heavy stones. It glittered darkly under the bathroom heat lamps.