Aftershock

by Jill Sorenson

  Owen dropped the subject, but he didn’t appear intimidated. Garrett was used to people listening when he told them to shut up. A few years ago, he’d have scared this kid shitless. Maybe he’d lost his edge.

  “What about after we escape?” Owen asked.

  “What about it?”

  “Are you going to run?”

  “Hell, no,” he said, scowling.

  “Why not?”

  “Because that would be stupid.”

  “Mexico is close.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “You’ll get caught, and end up doing more time.”

  They left the decoy behind the semi and examined their supplies. Garrett had learned quite a lot about improvised explosive devices from Iraqi insurgents. They’d collected some household chemicals and construction materials from the vehicles. Bomb-making was dangerous, and the fumes could be fatal, so they had to be careful.

  “Jeb will want to get close enough to take a shot at me,” Garrett said. “We’ll attack before they realize it’s a trick.”

  Owen nodded. “What do you want to hit them with first?”

  “I can put muriatic acid with a few other things in a plastic bottle. It will explode on impact and emit toxic gas. If I throw it behind them, they won’t be able to retreat.”

  “Cool,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Let’s make a bunch of those.”

  “One or two will have to suffice, because the chemical components are volatile. But we can throw other stuff.”

  “There’s plenty of gasoline,” he noted.

  “We need some kind of trap, too.”

  Owen toed a bucket of tar. “I could pour this on the ground and add bits of broken glass to the mixture. It would be hell to fall into.”

  Garrett grinned at the idea. “Perfect.”

  For the next hour, they discussed strategies and methods of attack. Placement of the tar pits was essential. They planned to use trip wires and grease to ensure stumbling. After both enemies were down, cut by glass and choking on acid fumes, Garrett would come in with the business end of his crowbar. As soon as they were subdued or unconscious, Owen could approach with a length of rope and tie them up.

  Once they’d decided on a plan, Owen worked on the tar pits while Garrett set the trip wires and created a few other nasty surprises for their opponents. The gasoline cocktails and acid bombs would have to wait until the last minute. He borrowed Sam’s watch, setting the alarm for the wee hours of the morning.

  At midnight, they decided to take a break. Lauren had been sitting up with Don and she needed rest. If he didn’t stop moving, neither would she. While Owen went to visit Penny, Garrett ducked his head inside the triage tent.

  Don looked better. Some color had returned to his cheeks, and he appeared to be resting comfortably. Cadence had come back to sit with him. She’d spent most of the evening helping Penny with the baby.

  “Hey,” Garrett said softly. “How’s he doing?”

  “I gave him some morphine,” Lauren said, worry and fatigue lining her face. “He should be okay for a few hours.”

  “I want to sleep here,” Cadence said.

  Lauren glanced up at Garrett, who shook his head. “You have to go back to the RV.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I miss my mom.”

  “Oh, honey,” Lauren said, giving her a hug. “I know you do. You can stay with me in the back of the semi. It might be quieter.”

  With reluctance, Cadence followed her to the Kenworth. They set her up in the cab with her doll and a blanket. “Will you sing to me?”

  “Sure,” Lauren said. “What song?”

  “‘Silent Night.’”

  A crease formed between Lauren’s brows, as if she was trying to remember the words. Then she began to sing in a hushed tone. Her voice was scratchy, from thirst or fatigue, and she sang off-key. Garrett sat in the driver’s seat and listened, soaking up the sound. Like the flowers among the rubble, he found a stark beauty in it.

  After a few minutes, Cadence fell asleep.

  Lauren moved to the passenger seat across from him, curling up with a blanket. Garrett didn’t have one, which was fine. He wasn’t planning to drift off.

  “Do you think Penny is safe with Owen?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I told him I’d kill him if he touched her.”

  Owen wasn’t afraid to joke around with him, but Garrett didn’t think he would push his luck with Penny. Besides, he’d just seen her give birth. That experience was bound to put a damper on any sexual thoughts he’d been entertaining. He also seemed at least as protective of her as he was infatuated.

  Lauren tucked her hands under her cheek and closed her eyes. They didn’t talk about tomorrow.

  “That was nice,” he said. “What you did for Cady.”

  “Singing?”

  “Yes.”

  “I have a terrible voice.”

  “I like it.”

  “You’re delusional.”

  Garrett agreed that he was. Sentimental, also. It had been years since he’d heard a woman sing in person. Her voice was husky and sexy and endearingly sweet. The sound gave him goose bumps.

  Everything about her appealed to him.

  He forced his gaze away, staring into the black space out the window. She needed sleep, and he didn’t want to keep her awake. He tried not to think about the other things he’d been missing from women. But Lauren was only two feet away from him, and he couldn’t forget the kiss they’d shared, or the feel of her body underneath his.

  Even after donating two pints of blood, he had enough left over to rush to his groin. He listened to her soft breathing and surrendered to depravity, imagining all the ways he’d like to pleasure her.

  It was going to be a long night.

  * * *

  LAUREN COULDN’T SLEEP.

  She was anxious about Garrett’s violent plans for Jeb, and Don’s questionable recovery. Her tongue felt thick and her throat was dry. She was hungry. She wanted to be distracted from this awful reality, even for just a few moments.

  Garrett’s head was turned away, but she could tell he was awake. She studied the outline of his body in the dim light.

  His jaw tensed, as if he felt her eyes on him.

  “I’d kill for a shower,” she murmured, moistening her lips. “And a tall glass of iced tea. Fish tacos. Coconut cake.”

  “Fish tacos?”

  “You’ve never had them?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not from around here,” she surmised. “Where were you born?”

  “Nebraska. I didn’t come to California until I joined the military.”

  “What food do you miss?”

  “It’s hard to pick,” he said. “Anything home cooked. My mom made ham and scalloped potatoes every Christmas. I guess that was my favorite.”

  “You haven’t gone back to visit?”

  “Not for a long time.”

  She went quiet, pondering the sad situation. Her mother drove her crazy, but they continued to see each other on a regular basis. She couldn’t imagine severing their relationship. In the event they were rescued, she hoped to mend the rift between them.

  Lauren knew from a young age that she didn’t want to turn out like her mother. Hillary had been a small-town beauty queen and a superficial trophy wife. Despite her flaws, she was a caring, clever woman and a doting parent.

 
; Their most recent argument had been over Lauren’s breakup with Michael. Her mother had never warmed up to him. She’d warned Lauren that he was self-absorbed, which was true. When it didn’t work out, her mother had seemed pleased. At the time, Lauren had resented her for being unsupportive.

  “You saved Don’s life today,” he said. “It was amazing.”

  She shrugged off the compliment, her cheeks heating.

  “Have you done blood transfusions out of your ambulance before?”

  “No. Never.”

  “How did you know what to do?”

  “I earned my nursing degree while working as a paramedic. Last year I did an internship in the emergency room, and assisted on several transfusions.”

  “You’re a nurse?”

  “Well, no. I have my license, but I haven’t looked for a position yet.”

  “Why not?”

  She shifted in the passenger seat, reluctant to go into detail. “I like working as a paramedic, for one thing. And my ex-boyfriend is a resident at the closest hospital. I couldn’t avoid him if I applied there.”

  “A resident?”

  “A doctor in training.”

  His brows rose. “Ah.”

  She suspected that he felt inferior, as if he couldn’t compete with an educated professional. Lauren didn’t care about money or prestige, however. Her father had enjoyed both, along with a beautiful family, but it hadn’t been enough for him. She wanted a man who could count his blessings and feel satisfied, not a rich playboy.

  “Did you meet on the job?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you split?”

  “I think we moved too fast. We’d only been seeing each other for a few months before we got engaged. Everything was fine...until we set a date for the wedding. Then we argued more, and he started acting strange. He was avoiding my calls, working late. I caught him having lunch with one of the pretty new interns.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. He claimed there was nothing romantic between them, but I knew it was only a matter of time.”

  “How?”

  “I watched them together for a few minutes before he saw me. He looked at her like she was the only woman in the room. If he was committed to me, she couldn’t have caught his eye. And—he’s in Bermuda with her right now.”

  Garrett examined her face, as if searching for the reason Michael had thrown her over. Lauren didn’t think it had anything to do with physical beauty, but she was vain enough to wish she’d washed recently.

  “Are you still in love with him?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, relieved.

  “Good. He sounds like a jerk.”

  She smiled, shaking her head. “Actually, he’s a great guy. He volunteered for Doctors Without Borders. Everyone thinks he’s amazing.”

  Garrett made a skeptical noise.

  “I’ve always wondered why people fall out of love. Does it happen by accident, or because you didn’t try hard enough? Is it a cumulative process, or can a single action ruin the whole thing?”

  “It’s not your fault he lost interest.”

  “Whose is it?”

  “His. He got cold feet and wimped out. Finding a new girlfriend is easier than dealing with your relationship problems.”

  “Is that what you’re doing?”

  He glanced away, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “You don’t understand.”

  “I also don’t care,” she lied, rolling over in her seat. Although Michael couldn’t hurt her anymore, Garrett had that power. He’d been honest with her, but he was still a heartbreaker, wreaking havoc on her emotions.

  It didn’t matter, anyway. There was no possibility of a tryst, or even another stolen kiss. She was dirty, and thirsty, and starving. If she had to choose between a hot bath and a steamy night with Garrett, she’d pick the bath.

  “He was an arrogant bastard, if he thought he could do better than you.”

  “I’m no prize,” she said.

  “Yes, you are.”

  Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, taking a deep breath. There was nothing more to say. She was exhausted, and he was unavailable. They couldn’t be together, tonight or any other night.

  * * *

  PENNY DIDN’T MOVE from her spot on the bed as Owen knocked and let himself in, locking the door behind him.

  The baby had fallen asleep against her breast. He’d been nursing every hour, and dozing off between feedings. Lauren said it was normal for newborns to be groggy. As long as she snuggled him, skin to skin, he didn’t cry much.

  Owen had found a hooded sweatshirt to wear over his wife-beater. It was too large, billowing at his lean waist and hanging down past his wrists. All his tattoos were covered, even the one on his neck.

  He studied her warily, his eyes drifting across her chest.

  She adjusted the blanket over her upper half to make sure she wasn’t exposed. “Thanks for the water.”

  “Sure.”

  “How’s Don?”

  “He’s doing okay. Resting, right now. Cadence wanted to stay in the semi with Lauren and Garrett.”

  “Poor thing,” Penny said.

  “Do you mind if I sleep on the floor in here?”

  Lauren had disposed of the soiled sheets and newspapers, so the mattress was clean. Penny and the baby took up about half the space. There was no reason Owen couldn’t sleep beside them. “We can share the bed.”

  After a short hesitation, he climbed in next to her. Using his arm as a pillow, he stretched out on his back. “What are you going to call him?”

  “Cruz,” she said, kissing his downy head.

  “Croose?”

  She spelled it for him. “It means cross in Spanish.”

  “Oh.”

  Penny wasn’t religious like her parents, but she thought her father might approve of a boy named Cruz. The baby had her dark coloring, not Tyler’s light hair and eyes. He was going to look Mexican.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Good,” she said. The pain wasn’t unbearable. Although she should have been exhausted, she felt energized by her responsibility to Cruz. His tiny hands and strange expressions fascinated her. She couldn’t stop watching him.

  “He’s, uh, eating?”

  “I think so.”

  “You can’t tell?”

  “No. I mean, he’s been sucking, but maybe that’s just for comfort. I don’t know if he’s getting anything.” She eased the sleeping baby away from her breasts, buttoning up the front of her dress for modesty.

  “Is he burping?”

  Penny hadn’t even thought about that. “Should I be trying to burp him?” she asked, wringing her hands.

  Owen shrugged. “If he’s not upset, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “I wish I’d paid more attention at the child-care classes,” she moaned. “I can’t remember what to do.”

  “You’re doing fine,” he said. “I’m sure he’s getting milk.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Well, you look like you have plenty. And he seems satisfied. Babies cry when they’re hungry.”

  Penny relaxed a little, because his explanation sounded logical. Lauren had told her to pay attention to his diapers, too. By tomorrow or the next day, he should be wetting. “I hope we’re rescued soon.”

  He didn’t echo the sentiment, which seemed telling. His life in prison must have been hell if he liked
this place better.

  Moving gingerly, she got up to use the bathroom, and then came back to the bed. Lauren had left her enough supplies to take care of the baby’s needs. She had blankets, wipes and sanitary napkins.

  “You should try to get some sleep,” Owen said.

  “What if he wakes up and needs me?”

  “I’ll watch him.”

  “When will you sleep?”

  “Let’s both sleep,” he amended. “We’ll hear him if he cries.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll roll over him.”

  He massaged his eye sockets. “I’m a light sleeper. There’s no way I’d roll over him.” Even so, he humored her by making a soft border with two folded towels. They lay facing each other with Cruz between them.

  Penny had experienced several weepy moments since the birth. Everything seemed to make her cry, and she wasn’t an emotional person. For some reason, Owen’s small gesture struck her sentimental bone.

  She blamed it on hormones. But she also reached out to hold his hand, linking her fingers with his. The swastika looked different to her now. Painful, like a black welt. This mark had been inflicted upon him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing for the hurt it caused.

  “Me, too,” she replied, closing her eyes.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  OWEN AWOKE WITH A START.

  He’d had a nightmare about running away from Jeb. He’d gotten shot instead of Don. His knee had exploded in a violent burst and his leg collapsed beneath him. But no one had dragged him to safety.

  It was still pitch-dark outside. A crack of light shone under the bathroom door, illuminating the space. Penny was sleeping with her back to him. She’d switched the baby to her other side. Although he felt like he’d just closed his eyes, he sat forward, listening for a disturbance.

  Garrett’s knock sounded at the door.

  He took a deep breath, pressing a palm to his galloping heart. Penny didn’t rouse at the noise. Little Cruz must have fallen asleep nursing, because her dress was unbuttoned, exposing her lush breasts.