Last Chance Hero

by Melinda Di Lorenzo

  “Hoodlums?”

  “Shut up, Hank, and point the gun.”

  The footsteps stopped, and Donovan could picture them. Ivan, standing casually behind the other man, looking bored but in actuality being fully cognizant of every little sound, aware of every hair of every detail.

  The security guard’s voice—muffled from inside the house—lifted up to them. “What now? Who the hell is—Oh. Mr. Lightfoot. You got here faster than I thought you would. Did any of the silent alarms go off on your end? Damnedest thing. Nothing on my end, but we definitely had a break-in.”

  For a minute, Donovan tuned out the exchange that followed. It seemed to be revolving around the merits of motion sensors and security cameras, and he already knew he hadn’t triggered any alarms himself. He’d cut the right wires on the way into the house, and the office building had been left without security. The latter was done deliberately, Donovan thought, to fool the average criminal into thinking there was nothing of value inside. Though he had known better.

  His fingers squeezed the folder.

  Ivan’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You find anyone in the house, Joe?”

  “Nah,” said the security guard. “Looks like teenagers busted in. Had a snack, made use of the, ahem, king-size bed, then left.”

  “They still in there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Teenagers, you said?”

  “Yeah, I’m guessing so. Weird thing was I actually came out because I thought I saw somebody up in the office.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Uh-huh. Nothin’ in there worth lookin’ at, though. Not even a computer or anything. But the file cabinet was open. Think something might’ve been taken from inside. Then I saw a light flickerin’ up in the house, so I made my way down here.”

  “Anything in particular go missing? Something you might’ve seen?”

  Donovan’s grip on the folder tightened even more. Ivan was speaking about the thin stack of papers. No doubt about it. Being sure of that just confirmed what he already suspected. The link between the Haven Corporation and the murder were recorded in there somewhere.

  Joe laughed. “Hard to say. So many piles of stuff in there.”

  “So what makes you think there was a theft?” Ivan didn’t sound amused.

  “Well. Someone slammed the file cabinet shut, that’s for sure. The latch jams and it bounces open a half inch.”

  There was a brief pause, then Ivan asked, “Did you call the police?”

  “Just you, boss,” Joe said. “Guess I’ll have to do that, though, hey? Unless you don’t want me to?”

  “No.” Another pause. “I don’t want you to.”

  Something in Donovan’s head screamed a warning that now was the time to get out. That even if it just meant moving from the side of the house to the backyard, they should do it. Whatever was coming next, he didn’t want to hear. And more important...he didn’t want Jordynn to hear it. Before he could grab her, though, Ivan spoke again.

  “Take him around back, Hank. Then take care of him.”

  Joe’s reply was a short laugh. “What?”

  “You sure?” Hank sounded dubious.

  “No more loose ends,” Ivan said, his voice completely sure. “No more mistakes.”

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Donovan closed his eyes for one second. Then he opened them and shoved the file folder toward Jordynn and met her eyes. She looked terrified, and he couldn’t blame her. His own body was covered in a nervous sweat. They were stuck in the crosshairs of a very bad situation, and the only way out was to head straight into the fray.

  “South,” he ordered. “I’ll find you. I promise.”

  The sound of a struggle had started already. Feet on rocks. Noisy protests, then a yell. All coming their way.

  Donovan crouched. He didn’t have space to build up steam, so he’d have to use his body. He bent as low as he could without losing his balance, and as the security guard was shoved into view, he used his legs like a spring. He vaulted forward and slammed hard into the big man with the gun—Hank—who let out a startled holler. They fell to the ground in a violent tumble. Thankfully, the gun flew out of Hank’s hands, giving Donovan a moment of satisfaction. It was short-lived.

  Ivan burst around the corner then, his shock visible even in the dark. His expression quickly turned angry, though, and he fumbled at his waist, clearly in search of his own weapon.

  “Run!” Donovan shouted. “Now!”

  Both Jordynn and Joe heeded his advice. They barreled past Ivan, knocking the man against the house.

  Donovan didn’t give him time to recover. He didn’t dare let the career criminal get ahold of his gun. He kneed Hank in the groin, then dived at Ivan.

  The older man sidestepped at the last second, making it just far enough that Donovan accidentally thumped into the wall. Fierce pain shot up one shoulder. With a grunt, he righted himself in time to see that Hank was moving toward the gun on the ground.

  Not happening.

  Disregarding Ivan for a moment, Donovan pushed away from the side of the house and threw himself toward the weapon. His hands closed on it seconds before Hank could reach it.

  Donovan rolled, flicking the gun back and forth between the two men in front of him. Hank lifted his hands in surrender, but Ivan just stared at him impassively.

  “You won’t shoot,” he stated.

  “Not a safe assumption,” Donovan replied as he pushed to his feet and steadied himself.

  “You won’t shoot to kill,” Ivan corrected. “Not at point-blank range, not unprovoked.”

  “You think I’m not feeling provoked?”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re not a killer.”

  “Maybe not. But you won’t get very far with a blown kneecap or a hole through your shoulder. And I’m damned sure you’d rather not have to make a visit to the hospital to have your stomach sewn up.”

  The older man didn’t even blink. “Ten years have changed you, haven’t they, Mr. Grady?”

  Donovan refused to be baited. “They haven’t changed you.”

  “I suppose not.” Ivan let out a sigh. “You think you have the upper hand here, but I can assure you that you don’t.”

  “Not yet, maybe. Once we get down to the police station, though, that’ll change.”

  “That’s your plan? Take me in and hope I confess?”

  Ivan barked out a laugh, and Donovan shrugged. He hadn’t actually thought through what would happen if he got ahold of Ivan and his men before he got ahold of the evidence that would put them away for good. Sure, he’d fantasized about throwing punches and demanding justice. But in his mind, those things had always come after he’d turned over irrefutable proof to the police. He’d assumed that he’d be in the clear and that Jordynn’s safety would be guaranteed. That was the eventuality he’d planned for. Turning it on its head...

  What other option is there, though? he wondered.

  The older man was right. Donovan wouldn’t kill him. He wasn’t a murderer and wouldn’t become one.

  As if sensing Donovan’s uncertainty, Ivan spoke again, this time softly. “Have you forgotten what I told you a decade ago about who’d be blamed if that body out there ever surfaced? Have you forgotten what—and who—is at risk?”

  Donovan stiffened and steadied his weapon. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about that, actually. And I’m about ready to call your bluff. I had no reason to kill that man. I don’t even know who he is. Not even after all these years. You can’t get to me through threatening my father anymore, and no matter what they believe, the cops will make sure Jordynn is safe.”

  “You really believe it’s that straightforward, Mr. Grady?” Ivan smiled.

  “I do.”

  “I want to reach into my pocke
t so I can show you something.”

  “If it’s the wrong end of your gun, I’ll take a pass, thanks.”

  “I give you my word it’s not a ploy.”

  “Your word?” Donovan scoffed. “Is that supposed to mean anything to me?”

  “You do it, then,” Ivan said. “I’ll put my hands on my head. You can disarm me. My gun’s holstered at my back. Then you can reach into my front jacket pocket and take out the phone inside.”

  Donovan considered the offer. Maybe it was genuine, maybe not. Either way, he couldn’t risk getting close enough that the other man might gain an advantage.

  “Just show me the phone,” he ordered.

  With exaggerated slowness, Ivan put one hand on his head, then stuck the other into his coat. He pulled out a slim, white device, and waved it back and forth.

  “You recognize this?” he asked.

  It only took Donovan a second. “That’s Jordynn’s phone.”

  “And Jordynn’s contacts. She only has two personal ones. Did you know that?”

  It was a dig. How would Donovan, who’d been gone for ten years, have a clue who Jordynn kept on speed dial? So he stayed silent, staring at the phone.

  Ivan lifted his shoulder in a one-sided shrug. “Guess not. But your girl does have a pretty good friend in here. Lots of texts and jokes. Bit of worry here about the fact that Jordynn hasn’t answered her latest ones. Her name is Sasha. You know her?”

  Donovan’s blood ran cold. “Yes.”

  “Sasha’s husband works out of town. But they have two kids. A boy and a girl. Sweet. At least they are when they’re sleeping. Wanna see a picture?”

  Gut-rot sickness washed through Donovan. “Give me the phone.”

  Ivan held it out. “Doesn’t matter anyway. The contact info’s already been transferred. Recorded. Sasha’s house is being watched, and any false move you make puts them all at risk.”

  Donovan snapped up the device, then stepped away. “You’re a real piece of work.”

  “Cooperate with me, Grady.”

  He stared into the other man’s cold, gray eyes. “Cooperate with you? By doing what? Choosing between Sasha’s family, or Jordynn and me?”

  “I don’t see how it’s a choice, really. Sasha and the kids haven’t done a thing. And you put the accidental nail in your own coffin a long time ago. As far as Jordynn is concerned...collateral damage.”

  It took every ounce of willpower Donovan had to keep from lashing out. “Tell me who signs your paychecks, Ivan, and I’ll think about cooperating.”

  The other man actually laughed. “Do you think I got this far by being a rat?”

  “I think you got this far because no one’s challenged you.”

  “Is that what you think you’re doing now?”

  “Your boss’s name, Ivan.”

  “Might as well just shoot me.”

  “Believe me, a large part of me would like to.” Then an idea occurred to him, and he turned his attention to the big man, who knelt on the ground with his hands on his head. “Hank?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is your loyalty in line with Ivan’s? Or would you be willing to barter? What would it take, Hank? Money? A new identity? Both, maybe. I can arrange it,” he said. “Just a name.”

  Hank opened his mouth. Then closed it. He shot Ivan a nervous look. Donovan was pretty sure he had the guy’s attention. That, or Hank was just really worried that Ivan would think Donovan’s suggestion appealed to him. He didn’t get a chance to find out which was true.

  Without warning, Ivan spun, ducking low and kicking out his foot. The older man’s boot landed in Hank’s side, knocking him flat. The move was quick. Agile. Completely unexpected. And in the split second it took for Donovan to react, Ivan lifted his foot a second time and slammed it into Hank’s chin.

  As Donovan pounced on Ivan, Hank’s eyes rolled back into his head.

  Dammit.

  “What hell are you doing?” Donovan slammed Ivan into the rocky pathway.

  “I said no more loose ends.” The reply was a grunt.

  A string of curses ran through Donovan’s mind, but he didn’t see the use in uttering them aloud, so he pressed his lips together and concentrated on securing the man beneath him.

  Never underestimate your enemy, he reminded himself grimly, echoing the teasing warning he’d given to Jordynn.

  He held Ivan tightly, rolled him to his back, then ripped the other man’s gun from his shoulder holster. He pushed him hard against the ground, driving a knee into his back to keep him in place. Ivan bucked one more time, and the struggle sent a second phone—this one in a black case—flying out of his pocket.

  “Keep. Still.”

  Donovan punctuated the order with an elbow to the kidney. Ivan groaned, but finally stopped moving.

  Careful to keep a good grip on the other man’s wrists, Donovan freed one of his own hands to snap up the phone. He tapped the plastic case, and the screen came to life.

  Jackpot.

  “Not password protected,” he said. “Not smart.”

  He scrolled, one-handed, through the contacts. Nothing stood out on the first look, but Donovan was sure the man had put something of value in there. He went through a second time. Slowly.

  HC.

  The initials appeared unobtrusive enough, but he knew better. They could only stand for one thing. The Haven Corporation.

  Donovan double tapped the listing, and though no number popped up, an address did.

  “Where will this take us?” he asked.

  “Not where you think it will.”

  “Forgive me for having a hard time believing you.”

  Donovan highlighted the address, then copied it and pasted it into the phone’s browser. Immediately, a list of options appeared on the screen. Houses for sale and listings for those already sold. An offer to provide GPS directions. And an advertisement for Four Tops, a community of tidy homes and green lawns.

  Donovan stared at the third option. Four Tops.

  It was one of the Haven-built developments.

  “Is this his address, Ivan?”

  The older man said nothing, and that was enough. Donovan yanked him to his feet.

  “I guess we’ll pay your boss a little visit at home.”

  “You’re going to be disappointed.”

  “I somehow doubt it.” Donovan smiled and waved the gun toward the car. “I’ll even let you drive.”

  “I’d really rather not.”

  “It wasn’t a request.”

  He gave the older man a shove and pressed the weapon between his shoulder blades, then shot a regretful look Hank’s way. He couldn’t think of a way to move the man. Of course, he doubted the big thug would be eager to get back into the fray anytime soon after he woke anyway. With any luck, he’d just stumble off into oblivion, thanking his lucky stars Ivan hadn’t actually killed him. God knew the man was capable of it.

  Donovan let himself glance south, just once, and issued Jordynn a silent command to stay put. He wouldn’t risk picking her up with Ivan in tow, but he sure as hell didn’t want her wandering around unguarded, either.

  Sit tight, honey, he thought, and then turned his attention back to the task at hand.

  With any luck, this would all be over before Hank woke, before the sun came up the next day, and before Jordynn had a chance to do anything reckless on his behalf.

  * * *

  Jordynn inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth, trying to more thoroughly catch her breath. She’d run south through the building site, just like Dono had said to. Not because she thought they should separate, and not because she wanted to, but because of what Dono had said to her before. One of them had to be the lookout. One of them had to be able to come to t
he other’s rescue.

  And as weird as it seemed—especially considering the way she was huddled behind a pile of discarded wood—she had a feeling it was going to be her this time around.

  The security guard had gone in the opposite direction without so much as a glance backward. She imagined that he wouldn’t be back anytime soon. Or maybe ever. If he was smart, he’d run fast and far. And he’d never come back.

  Like Dono shouldn’t have.

  The thought was like being kicked in the gut. Logically, she knew it wasn’t really her fault that they were being hunted. It wasn’t even her fault he’d come back. The blame lay at the feet of the people who’d murdered the man up on the mountain, all those years ago. But knowing it and applying it to her heart were two very different things. If he got any more hurt than he already was, she’d never forgive herself.

  She tipped her head back, fighting tears.

  Please, please be okay.

  Then, as if in reply to her silent prayer, the sound of tires on pavement carried through the air.

  Jordynn sat up straighter again.

  What did it mean? Were more men coming? Backup for Ivan? Or had Ivan captured Dono, and was now leaving with him in tow?

  She couldn’t stand not knowing.

  She pushed to her feet and crouched behind the wood, inching up until she could see over the top. For a second, there was nothing in sight. Then a dark sedan crested the hill, and Jordynn’s heart stopped.

  Even from where she was positioned, she could see that one man sat in the front. And there was no mistaking the wide-shouldered form in the back.

  Dono.

  She took comfort in knowing that he was alive.

  But for how long?

  She started to stand up all the way, prepared to once again divert the attention her way, then went still. A slight parting of the clouds above had let through a sliver of moonlight, and that wax-colored light flickered off something in Dono’s hand. And again, Jordynn had no doubts about what she saw. A gun.

  She exhaled, this time with the deepest relief. She sank back to the ground.

  Whatever was happening, Dono wasn’t just safe, he was in charge.

  “So what now?” she said aloud to the chilly air.