No Safe Haven

by Virginia Vaughan

  She heard Mitch’s boots on the steps again. This time instead of blind fear, it was fury that spread through her.

  She saw the gun on the floor by the fireplace and reached for it. It was heavy and cold in her hand, but she lifted it and aimed it at the door, right at Mitch’s head as he entered. But, despite her bravado, her hand shook as she held it.

  He laughed when he saw it. “Well, well, we’re right back here again, aren’t we?”

  She flashed back to that awful night Dean had died. She’d held a gun on Mitch then too, but she hadn’t been able to pull the trigger and Dean had lost his life because of her failure.

  She clutched the gun with both hands. “I will shoot you, Mitch.”

  “We both know you won’t shoot me, Jess.”

  Fire surged through her at the familiarity of the nickname. He had no right to pretend they were on intimate terms. She’d practiced for this day for years. She’d imagined his face on every target. But now, with him standing in front of her, she realized she hadn’t accounted for the fear. Mitch terrified her because she knew what he was capable of.

  He toyed with her, taunting her, circling. She followed him, the gun remaining on him. She wouldn’t let him out of this one, but her nerve failed her. She couldn’t will her fingers to pull the trigger.

  “You don’t threaten me, Jess. You’re weak. You always were. That’s what got Dean killed. That’s why I had to kill Andrew. It’s your fault.”

  She shook her head at his accusations. Hadn’t she believed the same thing all this time?

  “No!”

  She wouldn’t believe his lies, not this time.

  He laughed. “There’s that fire I love.”

  Her skin crawled at his intimate manner. “You don’t know what love is, Mitch. You never have. You don’t love me. You’re obsessed with me. And it has nothing to do with me. It’s all about you. You like the control you have over me.”

  “And you think you know all about love? I guess you think that A.D.A. loves you?”

  “I know he does, and I love him. But I’m talking about the love of Jesus Christ.” Dean had died because he loved her. Andrew might be dead because he loved her, but Jesus had been the first to die for her, the first to love her so much that He gave His life for her.

  She clutched the gun in her hand and prayed for the strength of God to empower her. It was the only thing that would get her through this.

  Mitch snarled and moved toward her again. She pulled the trigger, jolting at the recoil that nearly knocked her off her feet. She recovered quickly and fired again and again until Mitch fell to the floor and didn’t get back up.

  She let the gun slip from her hand. Tears fell from her eyes and she didn’t hold them back. It was over. Finally, it was over. But at what cost?

  The thud of helicopter blades told her the police had finally found them. She heard footsteps on the stairs then movement at the door. Margo and Agent Robbins entered, guns pulled and ready for action, followed by a squad of men with guns and vests.

  Margo rushed to her and threw her arms around Jessica. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

  Agent Robbins moved toward Mitch and checked for a pulse. “He’s dead.” He eyed the gun at her feet. “You did this?” At her nod, he responded, “Good job.”

  Margo pulled off her jacket and draped it across Jessica. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  “Andrew!” She turned to where Andrew lay still unmoving. A team of EMTs hovered over him, working fervently.

  “Let the paramedics tend to him.”

  But Jessica knew it was too late. She’d seen his face and felt the cold clamminess of his skin.

  Just as it had with Dean, help had come too late to save Andrew.

  THIRTEEN

  The emergency room was bustling with activity while Jessica sat in the hard plastic seats of the waiting room. A few feet away, Margo and Agent Robbins were engaged in a heated, whispering debate and every now and then their voices would rise and they would glance her way.

  Finally, Margo walked away, poured a cup of coffee and sat down beside Jessica.

  “What’s going on there?” Jessica asked her, motioning toward Agent Robbins, whose folded arms and firm expression indicated he wasn’t happy with the outcome of their discussion.

  “He needs to take your statement. I told him he had to wait until we got news about Andrew.”

  Jessica shook her head as she thought of all that had been lost because of Mitch. “So many people are dead because of him. Mia—”

  “Who conspired against you with him.” The bitterness in Margo’s voice caught Jessica off guard.

  “She was a young innocent girl who Mitch used and then killed. She was as much a victim of him as I was.”

  “Well, you’re more forgiving than I am.”

  “Mitch hurt a lot of people. Mrs. Brady, Mr. Percy.”

  Margo stopped her. “Actually, I have news about Mr. Percy.”

  “You found his body?”

  “Sort of. Apparently he met a hot young widow at the VA luncheon and they decided to fly to Vegas and get married.”

  “You mean Mr. Percy is alive?”

  “Alive, and a newlywed.”

  Jessica hardly had time to be thankful for that news when the door opened and a man in scrubs headed their way. “I’m Dr. Studdard. Are you with Mr. Jennings?”

  “Yes.” Jessica stood to greet him, half afraid to hear what he had to say, but anxious just to know. She searched his face for any clues but the man was obviously skilled at keeping his expression blank.

  Please, Lord, let Andrew be all right.

  But then she remembered the way he’d looked, the way his skin had felt when she’d touched him.

  She braced herself for bad news.

  “He lost a lot of blood, but we were able to remove the bullet and repair the damage to his abdomen. We also had to reset a broken bone in his left arm, but overall he was fortunate. He’s going to be just fine.”

  Margo squealed and hugged her, but Jessica was unable to copy her outwardly enthusiastic expression. A flood of thankfulness washed through her. God was so good. He’d not only given her back her life, He’d given her a man to share it with. Suddenly, those visions of family and happily ever after didn’t seem so far-fetched.

  “Can I see him?” Jessica asked.

  The doctor led them into a room where Andrew was lying on the bed. He still wasn’t moving, but the monitors he was hooked to indicated his blood pressure and heart rate were fine. She moved a chair up beside the bed and held his hand, thankful that the color and warmth had returned to his skin.

  She closed her eyes and said a prayer of thanks for all that the Lord had given her but mostly for the hope He’d restored.

  * * *

  Andrew opened his eyes to a blurry scene. A television mounted on the wall, a closed curtain and monitors. His foggy mind tried to focus. He was in a hospital room. He tried to move and pain seared through his shoulder. He looked down and saw the bandage. His arm was in a cast.

  Memories came floating back to him. He’d been shot. Mitch had shot him.

  Suddenly, he was wide-awake with worry. Jessica! Where was Jessica?

  “Andrew, I’m here.”

  He felt her hand take his and a warm, calming sensation flowed through him. She’d had that effect on him ever since the start. He raised his head and saw her sitting beside the bed. He tightened his grip on her hand then pulled it up to his lips.

  “I thought I’d lost you there for a minute.”

  She smiled a smile that brightened up the room. “That was supposed to be my line. You were the one who got shot.” She stroked his cheek. “How do you feel?”

  How did he feel? As if he’d been lost and was n
ow found. As if the world was right again as long as she was by his side. Gratitude rushed through him. God had truly given him the desires of his heart. “I’m better now.”

  She caressed his temple, pushing back his hair. “You don’t have to be brave. I know you’re in pain. You don’t have to be strong all alone anymore.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m not alone.” And he never had been, he realized. God had always been with him. “What about Reynolds? Did they capture him?”

  “We don’t have to worry about him anymore. He can’t hurt us ever again.”

  Was it possible they were free of this albatross of fear and pain? Finally free to make a life together? He longed to shout to the world all that God had restored to him.

  He sat back in the bed, his memory of events slowly returning. He remembered struggling with Mitch and the gun going off. But one moment of the afternoon stood out in his memory. “When we were in the cabin...when I told you I loved you...you were about to say something in return.” He glanced in her eyes. “Something important?”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispering her response into his ear. “I was going to say I love you. I do love you, Andrew. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m sorry I tried to push you away. I only wanted to protect you, but you risked your life to come after me. You wouldn’t let me go.”

  His heart soared that she was able to speak those words without fear or regret. “Never, Jessica. I’ll never let you go.”

  “Do you know how many times I’ve heard those words said with evil intent behind them? How many times those words have sent terror ripping through me?”

  “But not this time?”

  “No, Andrew, because this time, they’re coming from you.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from HER STOLEN PAST by Lynette Eason.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading Andrew and Jessica’s story. I am so thrilled that theirs has become my first published LIS because I feel such a connection with these characters. We all have a past. We’ve all been hurt either by our own choices or by the choices of those around us. We have all gone through something in our pasts, and this world in which we live teaches us many different ways to cope. However, as Andrew and Jessica’s story shows, true healing comes only through the power of Jesus Christ. And according to 2 Samuel 14:14, God devises ways to bring His children back to Him. Isn’t that awesome? We serve a God who actively works to restore us to Himself no matter how many wrong choices we’ve made or wrong roads we’ve traveled.

  One of my favorite verses is Joel 2:24 that states God will restore what the locusts ate. God restored Jessica from a traumatic experience. He gave her life a passion to help other abused women as well as a second chance at love. In a similar way, God has restored my life from the wrong choices I made in my younger days. He has given me a heart for women’s ministry and a passion for encouraging women to understand why we make the choices we make.

  I would love to hear your thoughts, comments or stories of restoration. You can visit my website at virginiavaughanonline.com, my blog at womenofconsequence.blogspot.com, or through the publisher.

  Blessings!

  Virginia

  Questions for Discussion

  Jessica’s passion to help abused women stems from her own past abuse. How can God use your past hurts to help others in similar situations?

  In the beginning, Andrew equates success with courtroom wins and getting his face on the nightly news. By the end of the story, he shuns media attention and has a new understanding of justice. How did his journey change his perspective?

  Jessica feels responsible for her brother’s death because of her involvement with Mitch. Have you ever been involved in something that caused harm to someone you loved? If so, how did you feel afterward?

  Andrew is at first very frustrated with his sister’s behavior and doesn’t understand why he can’t help her. He wants to be the protective big brother but is unable to change her situation on his own. Do you have relatives or friends whose behavior baffles you? How do you cope with their wrong choices and your inability to change their ways?

  Jessica teaches Andrew that even strong people can be victimized. How does this revelation help him to become a better prosecutor?

  Even after all she has witnessed working with Jessica, Mia is still fooled by the handsome face and charm of Mitch. What factors might have led her to become manipulated by Mitch? In the beginning, Andrew believed Jessica enjoyed the thrill of the risks she took. He discovers these risks have a greater purpose. Have you ever looked at a situation and judged a person’s actions based on a past experience? How could you be misjudging that person?

  Jessica believes that keeping her past a secret from even her closest friends makes her strong. How does this secret actually hinder her in her work? How does the truth coming out actually make her a stronger woman?

  After Tory’s death, Andrew pulled away from his faith and his friends in order to keep from dealing with his emotions. How do you handle difficult situations when they arise? Do you hide from difficult emotions? Or do you find comfort in fellow believers?

  Jessica’s brother died protecting her. When she realizes Mitch has returned, she tries to push Andrew away, fearful that he too will die trying to protect her. Have you ever tried to protect someone from the consequences of your wrong choices? How did that work out for you?

  After her experience with Mitch, Jessica questions her ability to make good judgments where men are concerned. How important is it to have friends and family that will be honest with you about the choices you are making?

  Andrew and Jessica both believe they can deal with their past hurts without help, but they both only make their lives more difficult. It is only when they each allow someone else to share their burden, and finally give it over to Jesus, that they experience true healing. What pain in your life are you holding back from sharing with others?

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

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  ONE

  Sonya Daniels heard the sharp crack and saw the woman jogging four feet in front of her stumble. Then fall.

  Another crack.

  Another woman cried out and hit the ground.

  “Shooter! Get down! Get down!”

  With a burst of horror, Sonya caught on. Someone was shooting at the joggers on the path. Terror froze her for a brief second. A second that saved her life as the bullet whizzed past her head and planted itself in the wooden bench next to her. If she’d been moving forward, she would be dead.

  Frantic, she registered the screams of those in the park as she ran full out, zigzagging her way to the concrete fountain just ahead.

  Her only thought was shelter.

  A bullet slammed into the dirt behind her and she dropped to roll next to the base of the fountain.

  She looked up to find another young woman had beaten her there. Terrified brown eyes stared at Sonya and she knew the woman saw her fear reflected back at her. Panting, Sonya listened for more shots.

  None came.

  And still they waited. Seconds turned into minutes.

  “Is it over?” the woman finally whispered. “Is he gone?”

  “I don’t know,” Sonya responded. “L
et’s just stay here for a while longer.”

  Screams still echoed around them. Wails and petrified cries of disbelief.

  Sonya lifted her head slightly and looked back at the two women who’d fallen. They still lay on the path behind her. Oh, Lord, help me help them. She reached for her cell phone. Had anyone called 911? Surely they had, but one more call wouldn’t hurt.

  Her trembling fingers refused to hold the device and it fell to the ground in front of her. She curled her hands into fists, desperate to control the shaking. She’d done this before. She could manage the fear. But never before had she been caught by surprise like this.

  Sirens sounded.

  Sonya grabbed her phone and shoved it into the armband she wore when running. She took a deep breath and scanned the area across the street. She’d been in dangerous situations before, working the streets first as a paramedic, then as a trauma nurse on an air-ambulance helicopter.

  Later, she’d shake her head at the irony. All those times she’d been in the midst of the flying bullets and had come out unscathed. Now she was a hospice nurse on her day off and she got shot at. Slowly, she calmed and gained control of her pounding pulse.

  Her mind clicked through the shots fired. Two hit the women running in front of her. Her stomach cramped at the thought that she should have been the third victim. She glanced at the bench. The bullet hole stared back. It had dug a groove, slanted and angled. He was shooting down, which meant he was higher up.

  She had no idea which building the shots came from, but if she had to guess, she would pick the one directly across the street. The office building? Or the clothing warehouse?

  The police would figure it out. She checked her watch. No more shots had sounded in the few minutes she’d lain next to the cement fountain, her mind spinning. There were wounded people who needed her.

  Heart in her throat, Sonya darted to the nearest woman, who lay about ten yards away from her. Expecting a bullet to slam into her at any moment, she felt for a pulse.