Regret hit him hard. How many times had he thought if only...? If only he’d listened to her, and simply gone home. If only he hadn’t been so insistent about proving that he was right.
By now, they’d be married. Maybe—probably—have a couple of kids. She might’ve finished college like she’d wanted to, and he would’ve had more than “hiding out” and “running away” on his own resume.
“I wish I’d been a little less stubborn,” he said now, his voice hoarse with emotion.
Jordynn’s warm palm landed on his arm, then slid to his fingers, which she squeezed reassuringly. “I always admired your persistence.”
He shook off the flattery, but held on to her hand. “Not about that, you shouldn’t. If I’d been just a little less pigheaded, I wouldn’t have seen what I did see that night. I would’ve just laughed it off and driven you home.”
“I don’t understand. You caught up with me, didn’t you? I’d barely made it a mile down the road before you pulled up. And you told me you were wrong and sorry and—”
“I lied.”
She tried to pull her hand away then, but he refused to let go.
“I lied,” he said again. “Because the alternative was too hard to explain. I was scared as hell, and I didn’t want to say something that would scare you, too. And by the time we got to the bottom of the hill, I’d decided telling you would just make things worse.”
She stopped struggling. “Why, Dono? What did you see?”
He made himself say the words. “A man being murdered, honey, and carried off into the woods.”
“You...” She trailed off, her face pale.
“I went into the woods, and I walked in the direction I thought I’d seen the light. And I found it. Them. Three men and a flashlight, out by the bog. I was so damned pleased with myself that I didn’t notice what was happening until it was too late. One of them had a gun, and another was on his knees. The third one had the light. It was quick. A flash and a surprisingly small bang, and it was over. I think I yelled. Or maybe I just inhaled a little too loudly, who knows?” Donovan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter which. The end result was that the man with the flashlight pointed it at me, just long enough to blind me. I never saw his face. But the other two... I could identify a victim. I could identify his killer. And I knew that wasn’t good.”
“What about telling your dad?”
“That’s where it got even worse. It was the middle of the night, so I waited, even though I shouldn’t have. But I was nineteen years old and I didn’t know any better. I took you home to make sure you were safe, then went home myself, and went to bed. I didn’t think I’d even be able to sleep. But I did. For almost sixteen hours. When I woke up, the sun was up, it was a gorgeous day and everything seemed so...normal. I was half convinced I’d imagined it all. Or maybe I just wished I had, and that was close enough. I stayed in my bed, thinking about it. Wondering if had been a dream. A nightmare. One so vivid I could recall the blank look on the dead man’s face, and the cold expression of the man who shot him.”
“I’m so sorry.” Jordynn’s statement was heartfelt, and her hand tightened on his even more.
“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologizing.” Donovan managed a small smile. “Quit stealing my thunder.”
She didn’t smile back. “If I’d known what you were going through, I would’ve helped you.”
“I wish you’d been able to.” He let out a breath, recalling the next sequence of events. “Seeing the murder was terrifying. But finding the man who committed it sitting at the kitchen table with my father was far worse.”
Chapter 7
For several minutes after the chilling statement, Donovan went silent. And Jordynn let him stay that way, not pressuring him to say anything further. Her own chest was burning, and not from the exertion of hiking. Her whole body hurt with sympathy for him. And understanding was creeping in, too. In spite of whatever she felt about losing him and everything that went along with discovering it had been a lie, Jordynn was having a harder and harder time finding fault with his decision to leave.
The burden he must’ve been under...
She could see it now, highlighted by the tightness of his jaw and the frown etched into his brow. It made her want to cry. To pull him close and reassure him. To just tell him things could go back to the way they’d left them, ten years ago.
Jordynn drew in a big pull of the mountain air, but the question that came out as she exhaled wasn’t the one in her head. “What did you do, all this time?”
He glanced her way. “In what way?”
She lifted her shoulders, then dropped them. “I don’t know. For work?”
“At first, anything I could do for cash. Washed dishes. Some construction stuff.”
“Nothing in accounting?”
She remembered that had been his dream. She’d always teased him about it, unable to grasp why he loved numbers enough that he wanted to spend his life looking at them. Literature and history and science she loved. But math made her shudder.
He smiled. “Kind of. Eventually. For five years, I more or less wandered around, sticking to the bigger cities and avoiding Oregon altogether. I didn’t want to come within five hundred miles of Ellisberg. But I kept wandering closer and closer, and finally settled in a town a few hours away. I met a guy in a pool hall—I was doing a bit of custodial work there—who said I looked like someone who needed a fresh start. Usually a comment like that meant it was time for me to move on, but he must’ve caught me at a low moment, because I challenged him to find me one. And he did. Carlos Hernandez was his name.”
Jordynn listened intently as he went on, explaining how the stranger in the pool hall turned out to the one person who really could help him get on his feet. He hooked Dono up with a solid new identity. He helped him find a decent place to live. Not that the man was exactly an angel. His connections were shady at best, and the things he was involved in were illegal. But Dono told her that it was easy for him to turn a blind eye, because what the man did with those connections was nothing but good. His benefactor had dedicated his life to helping people—women and children, mostly—escape from domestic violence. He got them new names and new homes and whole new lives. And his day job—the one he put on paper—was no less noble. He ran a boxing club for underprivileged youth.
“Isn’t that a bit backward?” Jordynn asked. “Funding antiviolence by using violence?”
Dono chuckled. “A bit, maybe. But most of the kids you find in the gym are in violent situations at home already. The boxing gives them a constructive outlet. And Carlos runs a hell of a tight ship. Hard to fault him for much of anything. He bought my bus ticket, no questions asked, on five minutes’ notice.”
Jordynn stole a sideways glance at Dono’s now-relaxed face. A small part of her was almost jealous of the way that he spoke about Carlos Hernandez. And she was downright envious of the way the man had been able to help him when she hadn’t even known he needed it. His genuinely affectionate smile as he finished telling the story didn’t help, either.
“Of course, running a business like his is expensive,” he said. “So when Carlos found out I was good with numbers, he gave me a job managing his books. I was glad to make a difference.”
Abruptly, Jordynn stopped walking.
“What’s wrong?” Dono asked right away, his expression still lacking the tension it had had since the second she laid eyes on him.
“Everything.”
“Wh—”
She stepped forward, stood on her tiptoes and cut him off with a kiss. She made it gentle, but deliberate, too. She needed him to know she meant it, but she didn’t want to get carried away in the moment. She lifted her arms and caressed the back of his neck, running her fingers over the bristly tendrils of hair there, then pulled away.
“I ha
te that you needed Carlos to get you a new life,” she said softly. “I hate that he gave you what I couldn’t.”
“Jordynn...”
“I missed you, Dono. I tried so hard to let your memory go, and I never could.”
He stared down at her, pain and warmth mingling in his gaze. “I’d take away the hurt if I could, honey.”
Jordynn believed him. “Right now, I’d settle for getting off this mountain.”
“Two more feet, then around that bend up there, and we’ll be in the clear. At least for the moment.”
She slipped her hand back into his, reassured by how right it felt to have him close. How good and normal. But minutes later, she was reminded that things were anything but okay. Because as they stepped into the parking lot, the first thing she saw was a bright red SUV. And the second was the man who leaned against it.
“Denny,” she whispered.
From where they stood, she could see he looked far worse for wear than he had when they’d left him behind in the alley near her house. And that was saying something, considering that he’d been facedown in the gravel after just being hit by a car.
Now his cheeks were peppered with cuts. His pants were torn, and one of his boots had come undone. When he shifted, his expression became a grimace. Jordynn could see, also, that he had one arm wrapped in a sling, and the other tucked into his jacket. The pose seemed odd until she realized why he stood that way.
He must have a gun.
And like he could hear her thoughts, the beaten-down man swiveled their way. She tensed. But Dono was quick to react. Before Denny could possibly have seen them, he grabbed her elbow and dragged her out of view. He positioned them together on the other side of the huge trail map at the edge of the lot. And standing there—hiding—Jordynn realized something else, too. There was no getting around what was happening. They weren’t on some sweet trip down memory lane; their lives were at stake, and until they did something about it, they’d be running, just like this.
“We need to find a way to get past him,” Dono told her in a low voice. “The rescue station’s on the other side of his damned truck, and we can’t chance trying to get back to the path we just came off. He’s definitely watching it. Maybe we can circle back and make our way around to the other path. The one that comes down over there on the other side.”
“Maybe.”
“Sit tight for a second while I see if there’s a break in these trees up here.”
But Jordynn didn’t have any interest in sitting tight. Or in sneaking around. They were the good guys. They deserved to come out on top.
So as Dono stepped up to assess the terrain behind them—muttering to himself about safety and time—she decided to take matters into her own hands.
Matters...and a weapon, she thought, surveying the ground.
Immediately, she spied what she wanted. A large stick, narrow on one end and thick on the other. A perfect club. She snapped it up and slunk along the edge of the trees, her eye on Denny and her mind on his visibly weakened state.
* * *
Satisfied that they could push through the forest and get back onto the path, Donovan stepped down from the tree line. And found the spot behind the sign empty.
What the hell?
He turned back to the woods. Nothing. He took a breath and pressed himself against the map, then inched around to scan the parking lot, willing her not to be there. The only things in sight were the big thug—Denny, was it?—and his truck.
What the extra hell?
Donovan forced himself to stay as calm as possible. Slowly, he leaned out again. He ran his eyes over the area, taking it in, foot by careful foot.
Then a flash of movement caught his attention, and his heart rate tripled. It was Jordynn—moving quietly but steadily toward Denny with a determined look on her face.
Donovan’s gut and jaw clenched simultaneously as she took another step, and he spotted what she had in her hands. A tree branch. Even factoring in the element of surprise, it would be useless against the gun undoubtedly hidden inside the thug’s dirty coat. The man wouldn’t be afraid to use it, either.
“What’re you thinking, Jordynn?” Donovan muttered, running a hand over his hair, then tugging on his ear.
And more important...how can I stop you from doing it and likely getting yourself killed?
His eyes stayed glued to her stealthy form for a single second longer.
He could only think of one way.
With a wild yell, he leaped out into the parking lot.
Denny spun, his arm moving into his jacket as he did. Donovan knew he was going for the gun, and he readied himself to tuck and roll. But the other man didn’t get any further than drawing it halfway out. Jordynn was already on him, her body twisting with the effort of lifting the branch. She swung it with surprising force, though, and it hit Denny in the back of the knees. The man’s legs buckled and he landed hard, letting out a yell that was one part fury, one part pain. The gun fell from his grasp and landed on the ground a few feet out of his reach.
Donovan let out a relieved breath, but the other man wasn’t ready to give up. He threw himself toward the weapon.
“Dammit!” Donovan spat.
He bolted forward to grab the gun himself, but Jordynn was still closer, and quicker again. She took a second swing, this time at the man’s shoulders. Denny bellowed a string of curses as he collapsed forward. He stayed down this time, breathing heavily and groaning a little.
As Jordynn raised the club and took aim again, Donovan reached her side. He tried to grab her arm, but she yanked herself away, her grip on the wood so tight that her knuckles had gone white.
“Don’t,” he said.
She looked at him, her eyes a little wild. “We have to stop them.”
“We will,” Donovan assured her. “But you don’t want to do it like that.”
Her chest rose and fell heavily, and she shook her head, but after a moment, her hands dropped to her sides and her weapon fell.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You promise not to pick up that stick again?”
“Yes. Well. Unless he tries to hurt you.”
“Guess that’ll do.” Donovan turned his attention to the man on the ground, crouching down to roll him over. “Hello, Denny. Do you happen to have anything useful to share with me about your employer’s intentions? Or for that matter...who’s actually in charge?”
The thug groaned, opened his eyes groggily and spat out a reply. “Go to hell.”
“And if I threaten you?”
“With what? No threat’ll match up to what’ll happen to me if I tell you a single thing.”
“That’s about what I thought,” Donovan said evenly.
“You’re both dead anyway.”
“Not yet, we’re not.”
Denny gurgled a laugh. “Might as well start counting your minutes.”
Donovan could tell the conversation wasn’t going to go anywhere. He glanced at Jordynn.
“Look away, honey.”
“What?”
“Look away.”
“Why?”
“Please.”
She inhaled, then complied, turning her body around completely. Quickly—so as not to give her a chance to look back and see what he was about to do—Donovan drew back his fist and delivered a perfectly placed punch to the side of Denny’s chin. The other man didn’t even make a sound. His head just lolled to one side, and the rest of him slumped to the ground.
Right away, Donovan dug through the man’s pockets for the keys to the SUV. As he stood, he saw that Jordynn had turned to face him. Her gaze flicked from him to the unconscious man, then back again.
“Sorry, honey,” he said right away.
She shook her head dismissively. “Don’t be. But...you did the same thing with the guy—the Nose—when he attacked me at my house.”
“You weren’t supposed to be watching.”
“I didn’t have to be watching to hear it.”
Donovan cringed. “Sorry. Again.”
She shook her head a second time. “Seriously. Don’t be. You’re good at it.”
He didn’t take the observation as a compliment. How could he? There sure as hell wasn’t anything wonderful about being “good” at sending another man into oblivion.
“Boxing with Carlos,” he said, his tone as neutral as he could manage. “Picked up some techniques at his gym. Mostly the ones that could save my life. Solitary knockout punch works well.”
“It seems to,” she agreed, her eyes finding Denny once more. “Are you just going to leave him there?”
“I’ll drag him out of view, but yeah. Unless you want to take him with us?”
Her blue eyes widened. “What? No! I just...”
“Just what?”
“Nothing, I guess.”
Donovan stepped toward her, then reached out to tuck a piece of loose hair back behind her ear and said firmly, “This is the way it has to be. His guys’ll come looking for him. Trust me. They keep tabs on their hired help.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”
Donovan gave her a quick kiss, opened the SUV for her to climb into, then got to business.
Unfortunately, it was harder than he expected. The big man was dead weight, and not easy to move. Donovan grunted with the exertion of trying to do it, his body protesting heartily against the effort. Worse than that, he could feel Jordynn’s eyes on him as he worked. What was she thinking? Was she wondering exactly who he’d become and speculating on how he could be so callous? Or regretting her confession that she’d held so tightly to his memory all these years? He couldn’t stand the idea of her believing he was anything like the man he currently had by the feet.
He gave Denny a final tug, then stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. From any farther away than two feet, his big form would be invisible.
Last Chance Hero Page 9