Pulling around the corner, Donald headed down the same aisle Carden had parked about halfway down. The major was getting out of his car.
It was almost as if time slowed, a perfect storm of meticulous details that fell precisely into place.
Carden walked into the open lot, his attention focused on the car behind him, on the woman staring down into the center console of the car, maybe grabbing something.
He wasn’t paying attention. And he was simply there, in front of him, lined up with the hood of his car.
Without thinking, Donald pressed harder on the gas. His car jerked forward at the unexpected rush of fuel into the lines.
The thud was loud in his ears, along with the curse that rang out, echoed back and forth against the closed windows of his car.
Their eyes locked through the windshield and all he could do was stare. He was unable to look away from the man who looked back.
“Chase.” It was screamed out into the deathly silence that had descended, breaking the spell wrapped around him.
Donald accelerated as the woman scrambled from the car. He watched in the rearview mirror as she raced up to Carden, who was leaning heavily against the bumper of his car.
She turned her head in his direction, yelling something he could no longer hear.
It didn’t matter.
He’d failed. Failed Amy again.
GODDAMN IT! She’d been in control for a full thirty minutes before it had all gone to shit.
Chase could have been killed. Her hands still shook at the memory.Of course, not as far as he was concerned, stubborn man.
The idiot had actually insisted on going inside and doing the interview she’d scheduled. And he’d refused to limp once they’d gotten around anyone else. No one would have known by looking at him that he’d almost been run over by a car in the parking lot.
She, on the other hand, had been a total basket case. Not her normal comfort zone. In fact, she rather hated it…and him at the moment for making her act that way.
He wouldn’t even allow her to look at it, let alone take an aspirin.
Oh, buddy, but he’d be doing both now.
She watched as he limped slightly up the walkway to his apartment. At least he’d listened to her when she’d said she was calling their commander if he didn’t take the rest of the day off. Maybe once he was settled she’d convince him that calling the police was a good idea.
“I can’t believe that jerk just drove away. Or that you won’t let me call anyone.”
“I’m fine, Sabrina. And considering we were in the Journal’s parking lot, calling in the cops would have started a huge sensation. I can just see the headlines, War Hero Assaulted in Parking-Lot Hit-and-Run. Not exactly great publicity.”
“Haven’t you ever heard that any publicity is good publicity?”
“Tell that to the air force. I’m fine, Sabrina.”
Chase turned around to look at her, a cocky half grin curling at the edges of his lips. That, more than any protest or excuse he’d made in the past few hours, set her nerves a little closer to normal.
“Drop ’em, buddy.”
His eyebrows rose practically to his hairline but the grin stayed firmly in place. “Yes, ma’am.”
She frowned at him and cocked an eyebrow of her own. Shaking her head, she turned into the kitchen, opened the freezer and found what she was looking for in the back.
The sharp hiss of breath through his teeth made her look over at him. She wasn’t exactly happy with what she saw. A nasty bruise about the size of a softball, already purple and yellow in places, covered the side of his thigh. The edges disappeared into the bottom hem of his boxer briefs. She tried not to let her eyes dwell on what else they covered. Now was not the time.
As she watched he poked a finger at it and hissed again. Men.
“Stop that, you idiot. I knew we should have gone to the emergency room.”
“It’s just a bruise. The guy was barely going five miles an hour. It smarts but it isn’t life threatening. I’ve had worse. I’ll live.”
Maybe, but for a second she could picture him lying bloody and broken beneath the front tire of that car and had to fight back a shudder.
He watched her with his normal intensity, a sensation she was finally starting to get used to. Not immune to—even underneath the layer of concern for him she couldn’t help the awareness.
“The strong will stand, the weak will fall by the wayside.”
Rina just rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I get it. Big strong man can take on a car and win. Now sit your ass down and put these peas on that bruise before I put another one on your skull.”
She tossed them to him, not trusting that she wouldn’t let the worry and fear get the best of her if she came close enough to get her hands on him. Crying on his shoulder now wouldn’t do any good.
He sank down onto the couch letting out a groan of pain that had her shooting forward. He leaned back across the length of the cushions, gingerly placing the frozen veggies on the spot on his thigh.
Through half-closed eyes he watched her.
“You know, now that I think about it there is something you could do.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
“Kiss it and make it better.”
She picked up the first thing that was handy, a flying magazine lying on the coffee table, and chucked it at his head. He reached up, without even opening his eyes all the way, and snatched it out of the air.
“Nice throw.”
She grabbed for the stray strands of hair that had fallen from her knot and smoothed them back into place. Smoothing at imaginary wrinkles in the tail of her uniform shirt, she said, “I’m going to check in at the office. Keep your ass on that couch if you know what’s good for you.”
CHASE WATCHED Sabrina walk into his home office and finally let his head fall back against the arm of the sofa. His thigh throbbed like a son of a bitch but he wasn’t about to let her know that. She was jittery enough about the whole thing as it was.
He wasn’t an idiot, as much as she seemed to enjoy calling him one—if his injury had been serious he would have gone to the doctor.He would heal.
The problem was he wasn’t entirely certain it wouldn’t happen again. He’d gotten a good look at the man behind the wheel. He hadn’t been a teenager. He hadn’t been drunk. However, he had had blood in his eyes.
The man had been out for revenge…for what, Chase could only guess, but it was a pretty educated one.
The problem was he still had no clue who the man could be. He needed to step up his investigation into the families.
He’d already eliminated the two from California and one from Texas.
He’d lie here for a little while—long enough to convince Sabrina he was taking it easy—and then fly to Arizona later this afternoon. In the meantime, he wondered if he could convince her of the healing properties of sex.
“What the hell is this?”
At the sound of her voice, her cold and frosty, upset voice, Chase craned his neck around to the doorway.
His heart stuttered and threatened to stop when he looked at what she held in her hand. He didn’t need to read them to know it was the white note cards.
Damn! He’d forgotten they were lying on his desk.
“Uh, nothing?”
Yeah, even he wasn’t buying that one. But at least it gave him a moment to recover from the shock and swing his feet around to the floor so he could actually face her.
“Try again.” The words came through gritted teeth. Oh, she was not happy.
With a sigh, Chase said, “Come here.”
“I don’t think so.”
Holding out his hand, he motioned for her, staring her down and giving her a silent choice. She could leave without getting any more information from him or she could sit down next to him…close enough that he could grab her and talk some sense into her if she decided later that leaving had been the better choice.
With a growl she said, “
Fine. But keep your hands to yourself.”
He didn’t answer. At least this way he wouldn’t have to lie to her…although she might think he’d already done that.
She sat down on the couch beside him, then moved as far into the opposite corner as she could get. “Now spill it.”
“They started arriving right after I got here.”
“How many?”
“Just the two so far.” He chopped his words off.
“But…”
Apparently she’d heard the mental pause in his head.
“But nothing.”
She stared at him for several minutes. “But you think maybe that was who hit you this morning? Oh, my God, Chase. You really are an idiot. I’m calling the police.”
He stilled her forward motion with a hand across her waist.
“Don’t.”
“Give me one good reason why not.”
“Because I’m handling it.”
“Oh, you are, are you? That bruise says you’re handling it really well.”
His hand tightened around the curve of her body, hoping he could make her understand. If anyone would, maybe it would be her.
“I think it’s a family member of one of the soldiers we lost that night, Sabrina. I don’t want to make things any worse for them.”
Her teeth ground together as she stared at him with fear-and anger-filled eyes.
“So instead you’re just going to let whoever it is kill you? Maybe next time they won’t be going five miles an hour.”
“That was an accident, Sabrina. A spur-of-the-moment decision.”
“Great, so next time he’ll be better prepared. I assume you got a good look at whoever this is?”
“Yes, but I don’t know which family he belongs to. I’ve eliminated a couple already. Jackhammer’s been helping me.”
“Remind me to yell at him the next time I see him.”
Chase grinned. He couldn’t help it. She was so fierce and cute when she was upset.
“Look, I’ve done enough damage to this family, Sabrina. I refuse to do more. All I need is a couple days to sort this out. I’ve promised Jackson that if I don’t have more information by Monday I’ll tell the commander.”
“Monday.”
“Yes.”
“What are you planning to do this weekend?”
“I’m flying to Arizona this afternoon.”
He watched as her face went pale, every last drop of blood draining away.
“Sabrina? Are you okay?”
“Are you sure you’re up to flying?”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Then I guess I’m coming with you.”
PULLING OUT into traffic, Chase headed toward the private airstrip where he housed his plane, an older model Cessna he’d bought sight unseen several months before coming home. He hadn’t been disappointed.
While flying jets gave him an adrenaline rush unlike any other, he’d needed something smaller, safer, after months of living on the edge of danger with lives hanging in the balance.Fifteen minutes later, he parked in front of the hangar. He’d called ahead to have his plane fueled and waiting for them.
He glanced over at Sabrina. She looked…angry. Her jaw was clenched tight enough that he was afraid she was going to throw a filling. Her eyes were trained squarely on the plane sitting across the tarmac before them, narrowed, almost as if she was daring it to—what?—explode?
And then he realized what had her so upset. She didn’t want to fly. With him. And that stung.
“You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” His words came out clipped and sharper than he’d intended.
“I’m going.” She didn’t even turn to look at him, just continued to stare straight ahead.
“Fine. I’m going to do a preflight check before we take off.”
It hurt that she didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust his abilities. He went through his safety inspection, building a nice head of steam while he was at it. When he returned to the car to find Sabrina leaning against the hood, watching him instead of his plane, he couldn’t hold back.
“If you don’t feel safe in my plane then do us both a favor and stay on the ground.”
She turned startled eyes to him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you don’t trust me as a pilot then stay out of my plane. I can tell just by looking that you don’t want to go.”
Sabrina stared up at him for several seconds. He watched her take a deep breath, the muscles in her face and body relaxing in a slow wave.
“I have no problem with your flying abilities, Chase. I’d trust you with my life.” Turning away, she reached inside the car and grabbed her purse. His plan was to come back tonight as soon as he’d talked to the family. He’d briefly flashed on the idea of staying over and taking advantage of having her as a captive audience but had changed his mind. Sabrina wasn’t exactly in a receptive frame of mind.
“So, where are we going?”
Pulling her body straight, she hitched the strap up onto her arm, her eyes returning to the plane over his right shoulder. At least her face had lost the pinched, angry look.
“First I thought you’d enjoy seeing the Grand Canyon from the air. Then we’ll head to Flagstaff, talk to the family, maybe stop at a nice little place I know for dinner.”
“I take it you’ve already filed a flight plan?”
“Yep.”
“Great.”
“Great.”
11
SHE’D MISCALCULATED. Terribly.
Being ten-thousand feet in the air was bad enough, but gazing down into the biggest gaping hole in North America had her stomach lurching up uncomfortably close to her throat.It had been eighteen years since she’d gotten airsick, thanks mostly to the wonderful invention of Dramamine and the fact that these days she limited her flying exposure to megalithic monstrosities like C-130s and C-141s.
A four-seater Cessna was a little too small for comfort. There was no escaping the vastness of air and space around her. It stretched out forever in front of her eyes, which she promptly had to close or risk losing the sandwich she’d eaten for lunch. At the moment, she wished she’d skipped it altogether.
“Are you okay?”
She wanted to shake her head but even that movement could dislodge the tight grip she had on her body. If she let go, even a centimeter, it would be all over.
She remembered this, the fervent prayer and hope that she could hold on…just a little bit longer. The last time she’d subjected herself to the torture had been the one and only time her father had coerced her into flying with him.
He’d been so angry with her. She’d been eleven and wanted so badly to please him. The General had insisted it was simply mind over matter and she had nothing to fear. Instead, she’d thrown up the diner pancakes he’d treated her to, all over his lap. It hadn’t even been a jet. No tricks. No Gs. Just a regular old plane that he’d borrowed from a buddy.
He had not been happy.
He’d wanted to show her that there was nothing to fear, being in the air. Instead, he’d unknowingly reinforced her fears. She still didn’t like flying; it scared the shit out of her. For the most part she’d developed some coping mechanisms she used when it was unavoidable—like whenever they traveled to shows. She sat where she couldn’t see out of the plane and pretended they were just in a really big, really badly sprung car. And took the fully loaded Dramamine that knocked her out.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t pretend in this teeny, tiny machine. And the flight hadn’t been long enough for the Dramamine, not if she’d wanted to be coherent when they touched ground.
She’d never forgotten the wretched feeling of disappointing her father. Of knowing something he prided himself on, something he enjoyed, made her sick as a dog. It was simply one more thing they couldn’t share. More distance in their relationship they couldn’t bridge.
They’d never discussed her…failure. Although she knew without a dou
bt that up until that day it had been her father’s wish that she follow in his footsteps and become a pilot just like him.
She didn’t like to admit weakness of any sort…to anyone. But talking about her airsickness…it was rather embarrassing considering she served her country in the air force. No one knew. And she wanted to keep it that way.
The thought of losing it in front of Chase left her clammy with sweat, not to mention mortified. She didn’t want to disappoint him, too.
“Sabrina. What’s wrong?”
Leaning her head back against the seat, she breathed slowly through her nose and out her mouth. Big, calming, drafts of air in. Lingering, even streams of air out.
It didn’t help.
“Here.”
Chase thrust a brown paper bag into her hands. She had no idea where it had come from but at the moment she seriously didn’t care.
She grappled for another minute for control only to realize it was a lost cause. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes as she fought the unbelievable feeling of disappointment—in herself and in the realization that she was about to lose a few notches in Chase’s opinion of her. It bothered her more than it should.
A minute later it no longer mattered.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU tell me you get airsick?”
Chase sat inside the cockpit of his plane, his body tense, although the trip was finally over.As much as it had felt like an emergency, watching Sabrina so miserable and uncomfortable, somehow he didn’t think the FAA would consider airsickness as dire as, say, a malfunctioning engine.
He’d continued on to Flagstaff, not all that far away. But it had been the longest minutes of his life. By the time they landed, Sabrina’s skin was as pale as the snow-white clouds staring down at them.
It scared him to death. And called up an urge to wrap her in his arms and simply never let her go. To keep her safe and protected. No one in his life had ever needed him that way.
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