by Jodi Henley
Corlis kicked Kate's ankles from under her and held her down with one hand planted in the center of her chest. The muzzle of her gun rested on Kate's forehead. “Stay down. One twitch and you're a memory—do you understand?”
Keegan dropped down beside Jen. “Fallon, get over here!”
“M-Makena?” Jen whispered.
Keegan shook his head. “Don't know.”
Rock crumbled under her hips and fell into the clattering depths. She couldn't stop shaking, eyes wide and fixed, even when Keegan pulled her up out of danger. Because of the way she stood, his grip on her was awkward, but he held her and crushed her to him. Despite all the clothes between them she could feel the desperate shudder of his breath.
“Are you hurt? Wounded?”
“Man, I can't believe this guy—” Fallon started across the platform toward Makena.
Jen knew Makena couldn’t possibly walk away, but there he was, moving across the platform using Kimo as a crutch. The shorter man looked shaken, like he couldn't believe what had just happened. He'd taken off his shirt and wadded it into a pressure bandage, but despite his best efforts, blood soaked the thin fabric.
A plume of smoke rose from the pool and vanished into the sere blue sky as sirens moved up the access road. Doors slammed. The police and Makena’s own paramedic squad pounded up the steeply pitched stairs.
“Oh, man! What happened?”
“Yo—it’s Mac!”
Makena snarled, his heavily muscled frame held protectively over the woman he’d failed to save.
Kimo waved one arm frantically. “Over here!”
Keegan cut the tape from her arms and legs, freeing Jen to move. She pushed away from him, stumbling toward Mac. He'd fallen on her legs, holding her in place until Keegan arrived, but each step felt like an eternity as she pushed through the bloody quicksand in her mind. Fear held her throat in a vise and she couldn't escape the feelings closing in over her head.
She staggered and fell to her knees at Makena's side, both hands locked around his bicep. “M-mac?”
Makena looked up. Horror darkened his eyes. “I can’t...let her go,” he said, thickly. “I-I...what if she dies, Jen? I love her.”
The first paramedic inched in closer, looking from Jen to her cousin. “Mac? You know the drill.”
“She’ll die if you move her!”
Jen forced the words out. “She’ll die if they don’t.” Her nails dug into his arm, willing him to see. “Let your friends help you.”
The whup! whup! from an approaching helicopter circled the heiau and landed in the parking lot.
Makena stood slowly, away from Kimo. “Friends? I don’t have friends. I’m a fucking Stalling.”
Chapter Fifteen
Keegan caught Jen before she could crawl into the chopper. “You can’t go with him.”
Jen pushed him away, shaking him off her foot like shit. “Don’t tell me what to do. Your role in this is over.”
Kualani was a big guy, and he’d all but bled out on her. God, she’d almost died. What was wrong with her? They’d arrived in time, just minutes behind her cousin. His stomach cramped just thinking about a life without Jen in it, giving him hell. Her daddy would have to get used to him? So what? There were worse things than Art Stalling as a father-in-law.
Keegan wanted Jen in his life, for the rest of his life.
“Stay away from me—hey!” She waved a hand at a big paramedic. “Over here. Please let me ride with you.”
The paramedic detoured in their direction. “Only room for three and equipment. Hang with your boyfriend.” He pantomimed a phone. “I’ll call.”
Dust exploded into the air, a whirlwind of fine black pumice. The paramedic ran for the still open hatch and slid it shut behind him. There was a small window built into the door.
Jen bolted for it. “I have to get down to Hilo!” she shouted.
The roar of the chopper built into a booming whine and disappeared over the horizon.
Keegan was silent for several long moments, just standing there all hot and frustrated. Fear of losing Jen put an edge on the hell down in his stomach. He finally said, “Kualani wasn’t a hero.”
“He tried to save me.”
“He stripped away your security and hung your ass out to dry. If Fallon hadn’t tracked him, you’d be fucking dead.”
“What the hell do you mean I’m breaking the law?” Corlis yelled.
Keegan grabbed Jen before she could draw attention to them and pulled her off behind the cars at the far end of the parking lot. “Something’s going down,” he said, right up against her ear.
Despite being confined to a stretcher, Kate was clearly in charge. “You!” she shouted, pointing to the nearest cop. “Find the others. And you,” she snarled down at the EMT trying to fix her hand, “Stop that!”
The man refused to move. “Are you in pain?” he asked. “We can—Mrs. Kualani! You’ve been injured—”
Kate shoved him back and swung her legs out over the edge of the gurney. “I want results,” she told the police. “I want my niece and her bodyguard, right here, right now—do not disappoint me, gentlemen.”
A brawny, Makena-like cop pushed Fallon through the crowd. “Aunt Kate?”
Keegan swore silently, hands clenched on Jen’s arm, holding her in place so she didn’t do something stupid like run out to safety when it was damned obvious the cops were in collusion.
“We found this guy checking out the heiau. What do you want us to do?”
He shoved Fallon at the nearest car. With his arms secured behind him, Fallon’s reaction time was off. He stumbled and fell hard.
Corlis whitened. “Get those things off—he's got a phobia.”
Kate dropped to the ground, her caftan billowing out around her. The mirrors sewn to her collar blazed like miniature suns. “No! They are criminals, treat them as such.”
Corlis shot her a disgusted look. “We’re not breaking the law. I have a concealed weapons permit.”
“You shot me! You are the one—no!” Kate staggered, hand to her shoulder, and turned on the man behind her. He put the syringe away. “What have you done? I don’t need drugs. My will is pure—”
She collapsed to her knees, and they loaded her back on the gurney, this time strapping her in place. The ambulance backed up, and the doors swung open to reveal the man-sized kid who had threatened Keegan at the luau already on board.
“Strong painkiller,” said the first paramedic. “First time it’s caused megalomania. Hallucinating, yeah?”
Kate’s absence left a power void. The Kualani-like cops were in the minority. Unless Kate had suborned the entire department, Fallon and Corlis were safe.
“I told you to get the restraints off! We’re not the bad guys here. No, I’m not going to calm down. You’re treating my partner like a fucking criminal—”
One of the black-haired cops pulled a set of cuffs and moved on Corlis. “You have the right to remain silent,” he began. “If you choose to give up that right, anything you say can and will be—”
Keegan dragged Jen after him, swearing under his breath and moving fast. She kept trying to stand, so he put his hand on her head to keep her bent over. Down, he gestured. Stay down.
The bushes turned into forest and pressed right up against the back perimeter wall. Jen stumbled through the ohelo scrub, holding her ruffles all bunched up around her thighs. Keegan eased her down into a shallow alcove formed by some tumbled blocks, and squeezed in beside her. She was covered in blood, some of it already starting to flake. Her dress was stiff, and her hands didn’t want to work. She had to get down to Hilo. She had to be there when Mac came out of surgery. She wanted to rub her face and eyes, but she couldn’t let go of the dress, bloody hands locked to the stiffened fabric.
Keegan gave her a sideways look, but didn’t try to touch her. Jen was abruptly aware of her legs still kicking in the dirt. Sunlight drifted through the silvery ohia trees.
She bit her lip, eyes closed.
; Hi Jen.
Run away with me.
Run away with you? Are you crazy?
Graduation.
The biggest party in the world, she’d been sure of it. All white roses and hothouse calla lilies, and little quail eggs stuffed with beluga caviar, because out of all the foods she liked her father knew she liked quail eggs the best.
Makena had found her at the top of the presentation staircase. He was her favorite cousin and the one she saw the least. He said once he completed his residency at the hospital they’d talk more, but that night they’d talked for hours. He’d always been there for her.
Keegan returned with one of the big yellow construction coolers. She hadn’t noticed him leave. He put it down beside her, left, and came back with another.
“They’re gone,” he said.
He peeled the rest of the tape from her dress and rubbed her arms before easing the dirty pink fabric up over her head. Her sandals were the worst, the straps swollen and slippery with blood. Keegan picked at the gory leather and glanced into her eyes before he peeled the socks from her calves. Blood had dried on her skin, gluing the heavy white socks to her flesh. “Stay still.” He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled the shirt up over his head. There was blood on the bandages wrapping his shoulder, but the inflammation looked like it was going down.
“Stay still,” he said, dunking the wadded fabric into the first cooler to wet it. He used it to clean her, quick and impersonal, his brows knotted in concentration. “I’m going to have to pour water over your feet,” he said, looking up. His eyes slid from hers. “I need you to stay strong, okay? Take the rag and scrub, get between your toes.”
He squeezed the bloody fabric out and handed it to her. Jen shook, teeth clenched as tightly as her hands. When she was done, Keegan threw her dress into the cooler and put her shoes in on top of them.
“I’ll do your clothes,” he told her. “Your teeth are chattering. Put your jacket on.”
Jen moved to a big, sun-warmed rock and drew her legs up under her. “Why?” she whispered.
“It’s not over until you’re safe,” he said, pumping the dress up and down. Water splashed out over his arms. “The cops are dirty. My sister is fucked-up and annoying, but she wasn’t trying to stop them. We can’t protect you if we’re locked up.”
Keegan wrung the dress out and handed it back to her. “Tie the jacket around your breasts, under your dress. It’ll hold the fabric away from you.” He dumped the water out and investigated the other cooler. There were maybe two cups left.
“Want a drink?” he asked.
“It’d make me sick,” she breathed.
She did look frighteningly bad. All pale and queasy, like holding her stomach down had sucked the fight out of her. Keegan shrugged into his jacket. The shirt was trashed. He tossed it next to Jen’s socks and washed his hands.
“Time to go,” he told her. “Put your shoes on.”
She followed him out to the parking lot. Nothing jumped him, but shit—all his instincts were going berserk. Something was going down and he couldn't see it.
He slid into the rental car’s driver’s seat and put his key in the ignition before leaning across to let Jen in. She folded herself into the passenger seat like a big pink circus tent, the jacket way up around her chest.
Keegan turned the key. Nothing. He popped the hood and got out. “It’s trashed,” he said, starting for Makena’s Land Rover. “This one, too. They’re all trashed.”
Jen joined him. “Call someone?”
“Did you see me fucking re-supply? Do you have a phone?”
Jen folded her arms and gave him a hard stare. “There are phones at the Project.”
****
Keegan stumbled over a cluster of something Jen called lapilli. Lapilli his ass. They were marbles. Shiny lava colored marbles.
Jen walked out in front of him, hunched down in her dress like a turtle looking for more shell. Her skirts dripped and her sandals made squishy sounds. He tried to hand her his jacket too, but she threw it back at him, shoulders stiff in a way that made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him. One minute she was buying those matching jackets and condoms. The next she’d disappeared into her bedroom and cut him out of her life. What could have hit her hard enough to drive a wedge between them? He’d done everything but crawl on his belly to make sure she’d want him as much as he wanted her.
Except for that last bit with Corlis, but that had been private. They’d been quiet. Hadn’t they? “You...heard us?” he asked. Jesus, he was so scared he wanted to puke. What the hell had he said?
Her heels pounded through the gravel. “I want my condoms back.”
“My sister,” he began.
Jen moved faster away from him. “Don’t bother. I’m glad you were so honest. It was refreshing.” Then she stopped and switched to her polite Stalling voice. “Thank you for saving us.”
She didn’t look at him. She hadn't looked at him since he'd rescued her.
Keegan faltered, unable to get a word out. He’d blown off what he was starting to feel with a badly timed “maybe” and now it was too late. She wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t stop. She just kept right on walking, faster now, ten yards out and trying like hell to increase her margins.
“It’s what I do,” he called after her.
There was no room in his life for a woman. He was gone for months and when he was home, he stayed locked up in his office running tactical scenarios. “It’s my job!” he yelled. “You are a freaking job.”
She turned then, “That’s right!” she yelled back. “You get paid. It’s all about you, isn’t it, Keegan? Tell me, is fucking me one of your riders, because I’ve been thinking about it and if it is—”
“Jesus! I don’t want to fuck you!”
She turned away sharply, arms locked to her chest. The Project rose on the horizon, a distant blur of combines and scaffolding.
“Then I’m sorry I implied you were available to the highest bidder,” she told him stiffly. She pulled her dress in tight and started walking again.
Once he got her to safety the mission would be over. There had to be some way, something that would stop her long enough for him to—what? Put his foot in his mouth again?
“K-Keegan? Something’s coming up the access road.”
A flash of color, orange and green. His stomach fell away. God, not now. “It’s a gravel truck.”
Her already strained face went chalk-pale. “My aunt?”
“The time interval is too short. Maybe more Aina, maybe just a truck.”
“It’s between us and the Project,” she said.
They were on the lava barren. The scrub wasn’t high enough to hide two people, one of them in a lurid pink dress.
“There,” said Keegan. “What about that?” He pointed to a small island of land in the center of the barren, crowned with trees and jagged up thrusts of rock.
“Not the escarpment. It’s shattered—”
“Stand on the side of the road and wave, or run for cover. It’s up to you, princess.”
The truck ground closer. “Run,” she said, and broke into a staggering sprint.
Keegan was willing to lay down money Jen had bottomed out hours ago. But here she was, still running. They were almost to the hill when the truck came out on the straightaway below the final turn. Jen called it an escarpment, but it looked like a squared off cube. Only instead of sides, there were walls. Big slabs of broken lava.
Jen threw her head back, breathing hard. “Maybe we can burrow in. I don’t want to climb that thing.”
“Sugar, you don’t blend. This whole place is black and you're the only pink thing for miles.”
“It’s broken lava!”
“You think I can’t see that?” The truck moved closer, gears shifting to make that final switchback. “Sliced or diced, is better than shot. C’mon, Jen—”
“Keegan! Put me down. Your shoulder—”
“I need you to listen to me. Grab the top
of the wall, honey, and pull yourself over.”
“What about—oh!”
She slid over the edge, the tail of her skirt flapping over the crumpled black stone. She was safe up there, but not if the Aina caught him. Jen was the only reason for him to be standing out here in the middle of nowhere. If they found him, they'd find her. Keegan tipped his head back. He’d followed Connor up enough buildings to see potential handholds. He got a running start and flung himself halfway up the face, fingers digging for purchase. It wasn’t tall, maybe eleven feet. He could do that in a heartbeat on a good day, but today wasn’t a good day.
He wedged his fingers into a crevice and dragged his No Fly’ed ass up another foot. The truck rumbled out on the barren. Keegan looked over his shoulder. They hadn’t seen him yet, but they weren’t looking. Vaguely familiar boxes bulged through an elaborate roping of bungee cords. He knew those boxes, but the clues were gone subliminal and he didn’t have time to think about it.
He pulled up, lost his footing and slipped, slamming into the rock face with his cheek pressed to the harsh black stone. He’d only been knifed once, but he’d never forgotten the experience. Hadn’t cavemen made knives out of rock? He made one last effort, arms straining, and pitched over the top of the rocks into a stand of tall grass.
Jen pulled him down beside her. “You cut yourself.”
Keegan rolled over, hand pressed to his thigh. “Until we know better, we have to assume the truck is full of your aunt’s crazies. Get your ass down and pull some grass in over you, that dress is a dead giveaway.”
She dropped down next to him, flat on her belly. “Take your jacket off. Give me your knife too.”
He handed it to her, hilt first. She pulled at his jacket and Keegan stripped it off, staring up into the sky, flat on his back. She’d pulled enough grass down over them to form a burrow. Unless something happened to direct attention their way, they were safe.
Her face was so pale it looked like she was going to faint, but she sawed through the flannel lining, making wide, ragged strips.
“Jen?” He caught her hand.
“I can’t concentrate when you talk. You know I don’t like blood.” She folded what was left of the lining into a makeshift pad and pressed it down over his thigh. “This is totally grossing me out.” She made a face. “It’s more of a scrape than anything serious, but I imagine it hurts.”