Peter glanced at the clock, then at his phone again. Ten minutes and no word. It was too long.
He was just reaching for the gear shift when an engine started up. The clunk clunk was familiar and Peter realized it was the same sound he’d heard at the last cabin. He mentally flashed back to that moment. Alanna had been getting through to Darcy. He’d seen the decision flash across her face, the recognition that it was time to stop running. Then that car had driven by—the old engine sounds grumbling—and she’d changed her mind. Johnny must have been driving up to get her.
Peter shook the memory clear as an old sedan backed down the drive. He grabbed the binoculars he’d stuck in his truck when he’d tracked Alanna on his day off and peered through them as the vehicle backed onto the street.
Johnny was in the car, but he was in the passenger seat. He glanced around, paranoia in his eyes but a smile on his face. He held a pistol, pointed toward the occupant of the driver’s seat.
Peter glanced right and saw Alanna behind the wheel, her jaw clenched tight. As she stopped in the street, she gave an unmistakable triple nod of her head: the signal that Elysia had been left behind. Then the car shot forward, racing out of sight.
Peter held his breath as another vehicle pulled into the Altier cabin driveway. Peter backed into the street, then braced his foot on the brake, waiting.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered as Darcy demanded, “What are you doing? Follow them! Follow Johnny and Alanna! When I was caught, he ditched his phone to be safe. I don’t have a way to get a hold of him anymore. Hurry!”
Every instinct he had demanded he pick his foot up off the brake and stomp down on the gas, catch up to Johnny and Alanna before she drove right off the mountain and the two of them disappeared. But he’d promised.
“Come on!”
At his shout, Darcy jerked in her seat but went quiet.
Then his phone buzzed with a message from Colter. We’ve got Elysia.
Peter shifted into Drive and stomped on the gas, making the back of his vehicle fishtail as snow sprayed out behind him. Then he and Darcy were off, racing down the mountain, hoping to catch up to Johnny and Alanna.
* * *
THIS ANGRY, SNARLING man holding a gun to her head as she drove was the “brother” who’d once carried her half a mile through the snow when she’d twisted her ankle playing. The brother who’d wiped her tears away when he’d caught her crying over missing the family she’d been taken from. The brother who’d told her he couldn’t wait to watch her dancing at his wedding.
Every time the old sedan hit a bump on the potholed road down the mountain, Alanna grimaced, hoping Johnny’s finger wasn’t on the trigger.
Her plan had worked. She’d walked up to the front door and Johnny had opened it before she could even knock. He’d held the gun on her, then glanced past her at the driveway. When she’d offered to go with him if he left Elysia behind, he’d scoffed. Then he’d stared at her a long moment, nodded his head and let her look in on a sleeping Elysia, content in an old crib.
“I know you’re not here alone. They try to come for me and I’ll take you out first, you got that, Alanna?” he’d asked.
The coldness in his tone had dried up her mouth and all she could do was nod.
“Then let’s go,” he’d said, ushering her out the door. “I don’t need the baby. And I’d never hurt her anyway. But you and I have a score to settle.”
That had been five minutes ago. Hopefully by now, Elysia was cradled in Kensie’s arms, on her way back to her parents’ cabin.
Since then, Johnny had just looked over at her and demanded, “Are the cops coming?”
Alanna had shaken her head and stared back at him, feeling truthful, because the only cop around was Peter. And he wasn’t coming until Elysia was safe. Even then, he’d have to catch up to them.
Johnny had always been able to read her. Maybe because he was older or he’d known her for so long, he’d always been able to tell when she was lying. This time, he’d just smiled and ordered her to head down the primary road off the mountain.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Johnny,” she whispered, the fear she felt coming through in her voice.
He snorted, not moving the pistol away from her head. “Well, you sure screwed that up.”
She darted a glance at him, taking in the new lines just visible across his forehead and the harsh line of his jaw, now shaded with dark stubble, that had still looked boyish five years ago. At twenty-three, there’d been something sad and pensive if you looked close enough into his eyes, but he had usually worn a smile on his face. Now there was nothing but anger.
An ache filled her chest, knowing her note had ripped his life apart and he hadn’t been able to put together a newer, better one. Sadness followed, regret that she hadn’t tried a note years earlier, back before Darcy and Julian had asked Johnny to lure Sydney away from a playground. Back when it might have made a difference to the life of the older “brother” she’d adored for so long.
Was the person she loved even in there anymore? Or had all the good in him been warped and destroyed?
She swiped at the tears that suddenly blinded her and Johnny snapped, “You don’t get to cry. You caused this. You caused all of this.”
She shook her head, wishing she could pull the car over, that they could just talk like old times. “Johnny—”
“Didn’t you love us at all?” he asked, his voice suddenly softer, more uncertain, like the boy she remembered.
The boy she’d hugged tight while he shook with suppressed tears after Sydney had first come to live with them, had cried and slapped him, telling him she hated him. The boy whose skinned knees she’d helped bandage after he’d fallen on the roof they’d been building, skidding halfway down the side before catching himself. The boy she’d tried to keep up with when he took her snowshoeing through the woods.
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” Alanna said, letting her foot lift off the gas a little, slowing their dangerous speed down the treacherous road.
He snorted. “That’s a lie.” But he lowered the pistol slightly away from her head and there was less fury in his tone.
The Johnny she remembered was still in there somewhere.
Her heart rate picked up, hope sparking through the fear. “There’s another way, Johnny.” She spoke fast, not wanting him to cut her off. “It doesn’t have to be like this. It should never have been like this. But I still love you. You’re still my brother.”
“And what about our mother? What about our father?” He lifted the pistol again and when she looked over, she saw the tears glistening in his eyes.
“I didn’t want any of that. But you know what they did was wrong. What they made you do was wrong.”
“They looked after us,” Johnny said, but there was a tremor in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself it was true.
She could get through to him. She just needed a little time.
Alanna lifted her foot a tiny bit more off the gas. She didn’t know what the next stage in his plan was, but if she could stretch out this trip, where she had his undivided attention, then maybe she’d have enough time to get through to him. Convince him to put the gun down and turn himself in.
Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror and she pushed down on the gas again. She’d started out at dangerous speeds, speeds someone not familiar with the mountain roads probably wouldn’t be able to match. But Peter was coming for her. She needed to stay far enough in front of him that she could talk Johnny down, but not so far that he’d lose her if she was wrong.
She loved Johnny. Despite the things he’d done, he’d been a victim once, too. He deserved the chance to rehabilitate, the chance to start a real life for himself. One that hadn’t been built from lies, where he was surrounded by people who loved him without stipulations, who’d support him as he rebuilt som
ething better for himself.
Still, if he refused to take this chance, she wasn’t willing to give up her own life for him. She deserved a chance to really start over, too. She wanted to be fully honest with her parents, Kensie and Flynn, about how conflicted she’d felt for the past five years. She wanted the chance to travel to Kansas to see Sydney in person again. To talk to Drew’s and Valerie’s parents, explain that she didn’t want to relive the past with their kids, but to build a future where they were still a part of her family, too.
And she deserved a chance to tell Peter how much he’d come to mean to her over the past week. If she survived this last drive with Johnny, she was heading home to Chicago. Three thousand five hundred miles was too far to build a romantic relationship. But it wasn’t too far to build a friendship. It was less than she wanted, but it was better than losing him.
Before she could fight for Peter, she had to convince Johnny that everything he believed about Darcy and Julian was wrong, that everything he believed about her was wrong. She took a deep breath, then said, “They did look after us. But they stole from us, too. They stole our chance to grow up with other people who loved us.”
He made another sound of disbelief, but it was quieter this time and the gun was lowering again.
“I met your parents, you know.”
Back at the hospital in Luna, five years ago, Johnny’s parents had shown up, tearful and excited to see their son again, just as she’d been ready to leave for Chicago. She’d shyly said hello and his mom had squeezed her arm and whispered, “Your parents are going to be overjoyed.” Then she’d looked at her husband and added, “We couldn’t even believe this was real.”
“You did?” Johnny asked.
His gun was on his lap now, his expression a mix of suspicion and anger. But beneath it all, there was interest. Beneath it all, there was still hope.
Still a chance.
“Yes,” Alanna said, her hand twitching to take his.
Then suddenly a truck flew out in front of her from a side road, making her slam on the brakes. Her head flew forward, the seat belt painful across her chest. The back end of the sedan fishtailed wildly, the vehicle not equipped to handle this kind of terrain. They continued to skid downward and she pushed the brake harder as the ABS activated, praying she wasn’t about to crash into the vehicle stopped in front of her.
Peter’s vehicle.
The car kept moving and Alanna heard herself scream, even though she didn’t remember opening her mouth. Somehow the car finally stopped, with only a soft screech of metal as the front end scraped the side of Peter’s truck.
Then everything seemed to happen at once. Peter scrambled out of his truck as Johnny’s hand fisted in her coat, his other hand unhooking her belt. Then she was being pulled across the front seats, her body bumping every surface, surely creating bruises everywhere as she tried to help herself along. Suddenly she was outside the car, Johnny’s hand still rough on her biceps, his pistol against the side of her head.
Across from her, Peter stood with his own hostage. Darcy’s hands were cuffed in front of her, but the woman actually looked serene, a half smile on her face as Peter shouted, “I’ve got a trade for you, Johnny. Alanna for Darcy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Peter had destroyed his career trying to save her.
Alanna swallowed back tears as she stared at him standing behind Darcy, his gaze steady on Johnny, his finger resting above the trigger guard on his pistol.
The metal of the pistol barrel against her own head felt cold even in the ambient Alaskan temperatures. Johnny stood behind her, using her as a human shield, his grip painful on her upper arm, his angry breaths puffing against the top of her head.
She’d almost gotten through to him. But just like with Darcy, in the end, she hadn’t been able to reach him. Not in time.
“Johnny—”
“Shut up,” he snapped. Then louder, to Peter, he yelled, “What’s to stop me from shooting you and taking them both?”
Alanna flinched, trying to twist in his grip despite the gun to her head. “No!”
“I’m a trained police officer,” Peter said, his voice calm and steady. “You could miss and hit your mother. I won’t miss.”
She felt Johnny jerk at Peter’s words, felt her own heart thud harder at the threat, at the idea of watching her older brother die right beside her.
“Your sister taught me something, Johnny. She taught me that love is stronger than hate. I know what you’re feeling right now. You feel betrayed. You’re angry with Alanna. But you still love her, just like she loves you.”
“I don—” Johnny started.
“She doesn’t want to go with you. She risked her life to protect her niece. You’re her older brother. It’s your job to protect her. It’s your job to make sure she’s happy. Let her go. You can take Darcy. The two of you can disappear. It’s not right and you know it, but you can do it. Just let Alanna go. Please.”
Johnny’s hand loosened slightly on her arm and Alanna stared at Peter and the stoic determination on his face. It was probably all Johnny saw: a trained police officer who wasn’t afraid, who’d be willing to shoot two kidnappers to save someone.
But she saw past that to the fear in his bright blue eyes. And she knew shooting Johnny would be his very last resort, something he’d only do if Johnny’s finger started depressing the trigger on the gun to her head. She knew it was because she loved Johnny.
“Do it, Johnny,” Darcy said. “Let Alanna go.”
Alanna’s gaze skipped to Darcy, saw the exhaustion on her face, the regret that said maybe she’d finally realized how many lives she’d hurt.
The hand squeezing her biceps released and the metal barrel against her head moved, redirecting to point toward Peter.
“Alanna, come here,” Peter said, his gaze still entirely focused on Johnny as he let go of Darcy.
Alanna took a hesitant step forward, afraid any quick movement would startle someone, would make a nervous finger twitch against a trigger. Then she took another, her legs wobbly as Darcy moved past her in the other direction.
Darcy’s gaze swung to her for the briefest moment, skimming over her face as if she was memorizing it. A sad smile flitted over her lips, then she mouthed something that might have been “Sorry.”
Alanna took another step and then Peter’s hand was on her arm, shoving her behind him as Darcy ran to the sedan and jumped in the driver’s seat.
Johnny’s gun stayed steady on Peter as he screamed, “Give me the key to the handcuffs!”
Peter tossed them over, his gun never moving off target.
Johnny caught them one-handed and jumped into the passenger seat. Then the sedan sputtered, the wheels spitting snow as Darcy, still handcuffed, maneuvered it around them.
Peter kept his weapon trained on Johnny and Johnny held his pistol in kind until the car was out of sight. Then Peter holstered his weapon and spun around, yanking her into his arms so hard she could barely breathe.
“I’ve got her,” he said and it took her a moment to realize he’d pulled out his phone and was talking into it. After a short pause, he said, “Hurry. Darcy and Johnny are on their way down the mountain. They’ll get off the main road now that I have Alanna, but we’re close to the bottom. Come pick her up. I’m going after them.”
As he hung up the phone and pulled back so he could look at her, Alanna asked, “How did you—”
“Darcy showed me a side road to get in front of Johnny’s car. Colter and Kensie are only a few minutes behind us. They’re coming to get you. I’m going after Johnny and Darcy. I’ve got to call in backup—I sent them all the way to Luna, but they might have figured out by now that it was a misdirect.”
“Peter, you shouldn’t have—”
“Don’t worry. You’re more important than a job.”
Before she could
reply, his lips crashed down onto hers. His kisses felt desperate, frantic, relieved.
She barely had time to wind her arms around his neck and kiss him back before he was pulling free. He smiled briefly at her, touched her cheek with his gloved hand and said, “I’ll do what I can to bring them in safely.”
Colter’s truck raced up beside them and Peter jumped in his own vehicle. He waved a quick goodbye and then he was off.
Alanna stared after him until she couldn’t see his truck anymore, then turned toward Colter and Kensie with tears in her eyes.
Was someone she loved still going to die today?
* * *
ALANNA WAS SAFE. But there were two kidnappers on the loose and it was Peter’s fault.
The law said so, but so did Peter’s conscience. He had a shot at catching up to them alone, at getting Darcy back behind bars before anyone at the station realized what had happened, but it was a long one. He’d be more likely to capture Darcy and Johnny with help.
He didn’t call Tate as he maneuvered down the slippery mountain roads, scanning any bisecting road for signs of Johnny’s car. He didn’t want Tate implicated any more than he already was. Instead, Peter called Chief Hernandez directly.
“Where the hell are you?” the chief demanded, her voice a tight hiss. “And where is Darcy Altier?”
“You’re back at the station?”
“Heading there right now. I got a call from Sam, who was stationed in the front.”
“We have Elysia Hayes. She’s safe. But Alanna traded herself for Elysia and I—”
“You traded Darcy for Alanna.” There was no surprise in Chief Hernandez’s voice, just a quiet fury that told him unquestionably that his career was unsalvageable.
The grief tightened his chest, made it hard to breathe, but he forced it to the back of his mind. “I’m almost at the bottom of the mountain on the Desparre side, trying to catch up to Darcy and Johnny. They’re in an old mustard-colored sedan. Plates are muddied and unreadable, but you’ll hear the car before you see it.”
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