He's Back

by Aria Ford

  I walked up the stairs feeling like I was floating. It was the most amazing sensation. I was coming back home. To an apartment that contained Drake.

  I practically floated into the lift and out again, and set down the bag of groceries I was carrying to ring the doorbell.

  “Drake?”

  I rang again. No answer.

  “Maybe he's out,” I told myself “Probably getting supper.”

  I fished out my own keys and unlocked the door, then carried the bags into the apartment and shut it again. The apartment was dark, the curtains closed.

  “Drake?”

  A shape walked out of the bedroom. In the darkness, with dark clothes on, I couldn't see who or what it was. I cried out and almost dropped the bag I was carrying from Lidl.

  “What in hell..? Drake!”

  It was him. He appeared into the pool of light where I'd switched on the lamps in the entrance-way. His face was tense and his eyes crimped up with nerves as I raised my voice.

  “Sorry, Ainsley,” he said. “It's just that...we're being followed.”

  “What?”

  I stared at him. He took the bags from my arms and carried them solicitously into the kitchen. Put them on the table. I frowned at him. What the heck was this? He was acting like he was in some kind of spy film.

  “Drake,” I said as he started methodically unpacking the grocery bag. “Please. What is going on?”

  He winced again, then nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “I'll tell you. Coffee?”

  “Sure,” I said, shrugging out of my overcoat and going through to the hallway to hang it up. When I returned I started unpacking too. I had a bunch of celery over one arm and a bottle of ginger in one hand when he turned to me with two steaming and deliciously-scented cups of fresh-ground coffee.

  “Here,” he said. “Will you join me in the living room? I think you'll want to be sitting down when we hear this.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Let me finish unpacking first,” I added.

  He put the coffee down and helped me with the groceries – I'd bought enough things to do Thai curry – the prawn version he'd meant to cook the other night. I was excited about it.

  When we were done he went through to the sitting-room with coffee and a plate of cookies. I followed him in.

  “Right,” I said, accepting the coffee. “No more subterfuge. Tell me. Please?”

  He frowned. “I can trust you,” he said, almost as if he was reassuring himself.

  “Yeah,” I nodded sincerely. “You can. So tell me.”

  “Okay. Would you believe me if I told you I was followed to your house on Thursday afternoon?”

  “If you told me, I'd believe you had reason to think so,” I said cautiously.

  He closed his eyes a moment. “Good. If you want proof, I would suggest you looked out of the curtains and down to the red Corsa that's parked across the street. But I wouldn't if I were you. I don't want them seeing us.”

  “Okay,” I said. I still wasn't sure what this was about. I felt almost like I was humoring the guy. Like he'd had too much stress and finally flipped.

  “You don't believe me,” he said sadly.

  I took a breath. Trust. Ainsley. It's about trust.

  “I'm trying to,” I said. “Just tell me more, please?” I sighed. “Drake? I'm scared.”

  He leaned forward and took my hand. “So am I, sweetie,” he said. I felt the first frisson of real alarm.

  He let go my hand – I missed the warmth of it – and fumbled in his back pocket. Pulled out a letter.

  I took it wordlessly and read it. Then I put it back on the table. My heart had just stopped.

  “What does it mean?” I asked him. “Did you go see them?”

  “I went this afternoon,” he said. “That's when...” his voice cracked. “They threatened me, Ainsley. Not me. They threatened us.”

  “Us?” I was really frightened now. From the vague worry about him, I was now terrified. “What did they say?”

  He closed his eyes. “They gave me a choice. Either I declare myself to have been wittingly lying about Steelcore in that article. Or you get hurt.”

  “Me?”

  He nodded. “I'm sorry, Ainsley. But they did follow me. I didn't believe him, but this evening I saw that Corsa arrive and I saw them watching the building. It's still there. I don't want to act all paranoid but I just know it's them. I saw it there on Thursday too.”

  “Hell.”

  It didn't seem possible, but I believed it.

  “Indeed,” he said softly.

  “Drake,” I said recklessly. “Don't do it. They can't hurt me. It's not legal, dammit! They can't threaten us like that!” I was worried but I was also angry. “If you say you were lying then you waste the last two years. Those kids you talked about will still suffer. You can't do it.”

  “I know,” he said. He looked tortured. “But I also can't risk you. I love you, Ainsley.”

  “I love you too,” I said.

  He took my hand and held it.

  “I don't want to lose you,” he whispered. “I can't risk you. Not for anything.”

  I smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He looked so worried that I felt my own heart clench tight with it. Suddenly the nausea that had been dogging me all morning rose up inside me and I ran to the bathroom. I made it to the bathroom just in time to throw up what remained of my lunch. I was gasping, rinsing my mouth at the sink, when Drake came in behind me.

  “Ainsley?” He was watching me with a mix of tenderness and fear. “Are you okay?”

  “I am,” I said thinly. I brushed my teeth and leaned on the wall, feeling slightly less sick now that was done. I was just tired. And confused. And scared.

  “Ainsley, I... I don't know how to say this,” he said softly.

  “Just say it,” I said gently. “Whatever it is. Trust, remember? I trust you.”

  “Okay,” he said softly. “But first, don't you want to make dinner?”

  I nodded. “Actually, I'm pretty hungry. That's not a bad idea.”

  We went to make dinner. When it was ready, the plates laid out on the table in front of us, he cleared his throat.

  “Would you like to go on holiday?” he said.

  I dropped my fork to the table with a clatter. “What?” Now he'd totally floored me. Of all the things I was expecting him to say, that was absolutely the last one.

  He winced. “I'm sorry, Ainsley,” he said. “But it's the only thing I can think of. If we just skip out of the country for a while, then...then maybe while we're gone, something will change.”

  He looked so desperate. So sad.

  “Where would we go?” I asked. The sadness and worry were giving way inside me to a kind of wild, crazy excitement. This wasn't a tragedy. This was an adventure. I was in love with a spy, more or less. A wanted man. And soon we'd be on the run.

  “I was thinking the UK?” he said. “We can stay there without visas for six months. And I have an aunt there. My mom's brother's wife. Would you do it?”

  “Are you kidding?” I stared at him, feeling a slow grin spread across my face. “The UK?” Visions of the Thames, of Big Ben, the palace, the London Eye, were filling my head. It was ridiculous but I was elated.

  He smiled. “Ainsley,” he said softly.

  “What?”

  “I love you,” he said. He stood and came and stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. “I can't tell you how much. I love you.”

  I smiled and leaned back against him. “I love you too, Drake,” I said. “Whatever happens now, we're doing this together.”

  He kissed me again. “Yes,” he said.

  We finished dinner and I had a hard time sitting still. I was so excited, a restless wildness welling up inside me. The dinner was delicious but I found it hard to focus on it. When we'd finished, I stood and washed up. Then I turned to him.

  “When?” I asked.

  “I have forty-eight hours to make my choice
. So it has to be tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow?” I dropped the dishes into the sink. I stared at him. “What? Really?”

  He clenched his jaw, handsome face a picture of regret. “I'm sorry. But yes.”

  I wanted to laugh. “Tomorrow! You've managed to get flights. To the UK. For both of us. Tomorrow.” I couldn't stop repeating it.

  “Yes,” he said in a small voice. “They were pricey, but I had to.”

  Thoughts went through my head. Wild ones. What about work? What about finances? How would we support ourselves out there for a whole six whole months? What would I say to Emmy? To Lacey? To Piper, or to my boss? And my family..? What of them?

  I shook my head. I couldn't do anything about that now. I just had to do what I had to do. I had to go with Drake. My heart was telling me to. And I'd learned one very important thing during my life. That was to follow my heart.

  “Okay,” I said shakily. “Let's pack.”

  ***

  I was more thankful in those five minutes for Ainsley than I had ever been for anyone. Over the next hour, even more so. We set about packing our suitcases in relative silence. The flight was for two in the afternoon tomorrow.

  What do you pack when you're a fugitive? I had what I'd brought with me. Socks. A toothbrush. My electric razor. Aftershave. Trousers and shirts. My laptop and phone. That was it.

  “Right, I said. “I'm done.”

  Ainsley looked at my carry-on bag and laughed.

  “You know what?”

  “What?” I said, feeling a wired grin working its way to my own lips.

  “This is wild.”

  “I know,” I said. I felt my fear suddenly melting, replaced with a wild need. I went over to her and kissed her. She tasted of ginger and sweetness and I pushed my tongue into the safe wet space, feeling as if I could bury myself in her, in a place of warmth and safety.

  She wrapped her arms around me and pushed her body against me and suddenly we were like a force of nature. I was ripping off her clothes and she was ripping off mine. Sightless and wild, driven by our needs, we writhed together on the bed. I sighed as I entered her, my body plowing hers with a possessed intensity that I had never experienced before. She wrapped her legs around me and her nails raked my back. It was a crazy, wild space in which we lost control completely, our fear and love and madness all welling up in that crazy act and then dissipating in our climax.

  We slept together after that and then, thirty minutes later I rolled off her.

  “Sorry,” I murmured. “I didn't mean to squash you.”

  She chuckled. “Oh man,” she said. “That feels good. We should finish packing.”

  I nodded and she laughed, shakily. “This is crazy, isn't it?” she said under her breath. “Please tell me this is crazy?”

  “It's crazy,” I told her and she laughed.

  “Drake Leblanc, I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  We drew on some clothes and she finished packing. I finalized the travel arrangements, calling a taxi to take us to the airport at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. It was only nine pm when we'd finished, but we decided to go to bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long, demanding day.

  As I lay with her in my arms, gently stroking her hair, I felt so lucky to have her in my life. Without her, this whole scenario would have been terrifying. With her, it was an adventure.

  I looked down at her face, softened in sleep, and kissed her hair. My heart was melting with love for her as I snuggled down behind her and held her in my arms.

  I had no idea if we would make it to the airport safely. I had this terrifying feeling that something bad would happen – that the watchers would see us leave, and follow us, prevent our departure. That we'd be denied boarding. That I was already facing charges and wouldn't be able to leave.

  They said I had forty-eight hours.

  All I could do right now was believe them.

  I lay there watching Ainsley, feeling her reassuring, shallow breath as she lay in my arms. I thought I would never go to sleep but, watching her, I felt my lids droop and I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew I was waking to the sound of an alarm and Ainsley was turning over in my arms to kiss me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ainsley

  When we woke up the next morning I felt nauseous. I rolled over quickly, afraid I was going to be sick. I staggered to the bathroom and vomited again.

  Drake must have heard me because he was standing in the door behind me when I turned around, wiping my lips self-consciously on a paper-towel.

  “Sweetie? Are you okay?” he said gently.

  I smiled wanly at him. “Just nerves,” I assured him. “It's fine.”

  He nodded. “I'll fix breakfast. If you can manage some?”

  I gave a shaky laugh. “I can always manage breakfast,” I said.

  He left and a few minutes later I heard him rattling things in the kitchen.

  I wasn't sure if I could manage breakfast. My head was pounding and my stomach was alive with nerves. We were fugitives. With twenty-four hours to flee.

  I showered and dressed and when I reached the kitchen Drake had his back to the door and the scent of frying washed over me like a reassuring wave.

  “I fried us some eggs and the sausage that was left in the fridge. We may as well use it, right?”

  I laughed shakily. “Yeah. We'll try and finish off what we have. Coffee?”

  He kissed my hair. “Yes, sweetheart.”

  I giggled. Strangely enough, he looked excited. It was difficult to credit – we were, after all, about to jump off a cliff. But he was excited. And so, if I had to admit it, was I.

  “Drake?” I asked as I sampled the perfect fried eggs he always made.

  “Mm?” He dabbed at his mouth with a paper napkin and frowned at me. “What's it?”

  “I was thinking about what to do about my apartment.”

  “You could find a tenant? Ask a friend to find someone to take over the rent for you while you're away?”

  I nodded. “That's a brilliant idea.”

  He smiled. “I get them occasionally.”

  We both laughed.

  We made our plans and then fell into a far more pleasing discussion: what we were going to do when we were there.

  “Can we do tourist stuff? Please?” I asked.

  He chuckled. “My dear, consider it a holiday,” he said grandly. “For the first week at least, we are doing this the proper way.”

  “Oh, Drake.” I looked at my hands, feeling my heart swell with happiness. “I love you.”

  I had never felt quite so spoiled in my whole life. It was like he'd swept into my ordinary, mundane life and made it suddenly chaotic and magical and new.

  “I love you too,” he said. “Excited?”

  “You bet.”

  We finished breakfast and did some tidying. I had only packed what I would pack for a two-week holiday. It was a good way to think about it. Everything else we needed, we'd figure out when we got there.

  “That's the taxi,” Drake said, jumping up from where we sat at the coffee-table. We'd opened all the stray boxes of cookies and made a vast pot of coffee.

  “Great,” I said. I stood, brushing crumbs off my knee, and took the things through to the kitchen to tidy up. We'd leave the keys with my neighbor with instructions to give them to Lacey when she visited. I'd started writing to her, explaining the bare bones of what I was doing and what I'd like her to help with. That side of things was all set.

  We headed downstairs to the lobby, cases in hand.

  There, we stopped. Drake stared.

  “Oh, no...”

  “What?” I felt my heart sink into my boot-tops.

  “They're here.”

  They? I looked out and noticed where he was looking. The red Corsa.

  I looked at him and he looked at me.

  “What do we do?” I asked.

  “What can we do?” he said. “We'll have to go out in disguis
e.”

  “Disguise?”

  He nodded. He reached into his case and took out a scarf, which he wound round his neck and over his mouth. He looked like someone paranoid about getting cold. He was also marginally less recognizable.

  “Good idea,” I said. I dug in my bag and took out a Fedora, which I pulled down low, turning up the collar of my jacket so it obscured my mouth.

  He laughed. “You look like a gangster,” he said fondly.

  “I feel like one,” I said.

  “Okay,” he nodded. I saw his throat work as he swallowed. “We'll go out separately. You first.”

  “Okay...” I frowned. “If you say so.”

  “I think it's best.”

  I nodded and walked out of the door, heading toward the taxi he'd pointed to earlier.

  “You here for Mr. Leblanc?” I asked.

  “That's right, ma'am.” He nodded.

  “I'm his wife,” I said. Even as part of an act, I felt my heart flip, saying that. The man nodded.

  “Let me open for you,” he said, jumping out to put my cases in the trunk. He let me in and I slid into the passenger seat. I glanced over my shoulder at the red car. No-one had moved. The occupants seemed to largely be ignoring us. That's good.