I grab the handle and heave it to the ground next to him, then hold out my hand. “Thank you.”
He looks at me, wide-eyed, and takes my hand, giving it a surprisingly firm shake. “I should be thanking you, young man.” He smiles at his wife. “She always over-packs when she goes to visit her sister. Told her she’s going to put my back out one of these days.”
Her eyes shine as she smiles back at him, and I know that’s what I want. My new purpose in life is to give a wrinkled-up Lee every reason to want to look at me just that way someday.
“Thank you,” I say again with another pump of his hand. I turn and jog for the escalator up to ground transportation. I turned my rental in when I got to the airport and I can’t take time now to go through the process of getting it back, so I grab a cab, praying it’s not too late.
Everything Rob said was true. I’ve got an enormous fucking target on my forehead. But everything I told Lee was also true. We could probably live without each other, but it wouldn’t be much of a life. Together, it will be explosive. And that’s without the mob factoring in. Nothing about our lives together is going to be normal, but normal’s never been anything I’ve cared to learn how to do.
An hour later, the taxi dumps me at the hotel turnout. I bypass the desk and head straight to the elevators. I tell myself that, if she’s still here, it’s a sign. I’m never going to question this again. I’m going to marry Lee on Friday and never look back.
I bolt off the elevator and jog to our room. A relieved sigh leaves my aching chest along with some of the tension when I see the DO NOT DISTURB sign hanging from the knob. I take a deep breath, then scan my card.
There’s the soft tick of the latch and the green light on the lock flashes, granting me access to my future. I turn the knob. The curtains are drawn and the room is cloaked in gloom. It’s nearly six. Maybe she stayed in bed today.
I move silently across the room to the bed. There are mounds of sheets and blankets, but in the dark, it’s impossible to make out specific shapes. I go into the bathroom and flick on the light, then crack open the door and peer at the bed.
I hold my breath and press the door open wider, trying to talk myself out of what know I see—what I knew I saw in the dark, but didn’t want to admit.
An empty bed.
I flip the switch for the sidelight above the nightstand, and as the fluorescent bulb slowly comes to life, the full light confirms what my heart’s known from the second I walked in the room.
She’s gone.
“Shit,” I say, pressing my forehead against the doorframe.
I push off the wall and move to the desk. Maybe she left a note.
My note is there, torn off the pad. “I’ll be back,” I read. Why didn’t I keep my word? Why did I let Rob make me question this? I’ve already given Lee too many reasons to doubt me, and now I’ve stacked the cherry on top.
There’s a second piece of paper, crumpled near the phone. I smooth it open on the desk and read Lee Silva, both printed and in her flowing script. Her mother’s maiden name. My wedding gift to her. The only thing I could think to give her that mattered.
Our marriage license is on the desk as well. I reach for it, but my hand stalls when something flashes in the dim light. My heart crashes and burns when I realize it’s her ring, sitting on top of our license.
If there was any question what she might have been thinking when she left, this answers it.
I brace my hands on the desk and try to fill the hole in my chest with air. It takes a few minutes before I can get a full breath, then I shove off the desk and bolt to the door. The bellman hails me a cab and twenty minutes later, I’m at the fisherman’s cottage on the bluff.
I have the cabbie drop me at the end of the driveway when I see Lee’s and Rob’s cars up near the house. The sun hangs low over the ocean, but as I skirt up the driveway it feels like déjà vu. I’m coiled tight, just as I was the night two and a half months ago when I first followed Rob home from Spencer Security. Except this time, when I reach the top, I’m met with barking dogs.
Crash and Burn are in the run.
I duck behind a scrub oak and wait for someone to come check on the dogs. But after several minutes, the house remains quiet.
I move to the side of the house below Lee’s window and sift a few small rocks out of the sand with my fingers. I toss one at the second story window and it pings off the glass. I wait for Lee’s face to appear. When it doesn’t, I toss another rock, harder. It’s more a chink than a ping this time, and I’m surprised the pane doesn’t shatter. I wait again, but still no response.
Dread coils around my heart like a python and tightens as the obvious starts to dawn in my mind. As I pass the dog run on the way to the porch stairs, Crash and Burn bark more manically. In their run is a massive bowl of food that is now half empty, and another equally massive bowl with water. There’s a note clipped to fence.
I pull it down and read Lee’s script:
To the Loveland animal shelter,
Names: Crash (lighter one) and Burn (darker)
7-month-old shepherd mix
Loving puppies that would make great family dogs, or a good companion for an elderly person.
So that’s it. They’re gone.
My heart plummets into my wingtips with the realization that she might have been at the airport at the same time as me, waiting at a gate on the other end of the terminal. I might have watched her flight come and go on the departure board and never known it was whisking my future back to Safesite and out of my life forever.
I fucked this up, and there’s no going back.
I drop the note and move in a daze to the front door. It’s unlocked. With my last ounce of energy, I tread upstairs to Lee’s room and sprawl on her bed, pulling a pillow over my face and wrapping myself in her scent.
And I just lay here, not really knowing or caring what comes next.
***
The sound of a pistol slide racking near my ear wakes me. I open my eyes to bright sunlight filtering through Lee’s thin white curtains.
And an enormous guy in a blue button-down, glaring down at me with a gun aimed between my eyes.
Chapter 26
Lee
“Thank you for bringing me back,” I say to Wes. “The shelter’s not coming for the dogs until afternoon. I just thought, since our flight’s not till later, I should check on them.”
He gives me a hard look. “We took your family out of here last night for a reason, Lee. Your brother believes your location is compromised. It’s not safe.”
“I know. I just …” I swallow. “I don’t really need to check on the dogs, Wes. I feel like we need to talk … to clear the air. In all the chaos of getting out of here, and at the motel last night … we never got a second alone.”
Wes and Eric rotated shifts outside the two rooms they put us in at the Holiday Inn Express near the highway. I sat awake all night, watching him out the window until Eric replaced him at three in the morning. I wanted desperately to go out and ask him why he lied to us about Oliver. But if I bring Oliver up at all, I risk revealing too much. And I know why he said what he did. It was Oliver’s cover. The only way he’ll stay alive is if people believe he’s dead right up until he shows up in court to testify.
He glances at me warily as we pass Polly’s Diner. “This was all to get me alone?”
My cheeks warm, sure he’s remembering the last time I connived to get him alone and threw myself at him. “Yes.”
He pulls into Len’s Market and stops in the parking lot. “Why?”
“I know things got … awkward between us and I’m really sorry about that.” I swallow and force myself to hold his gaze. “You are an amazing man, and I’m sorry I didn’t turn out to be what you hoped I was. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive my behavior eventually.” I look away, finally, because if I keep looking at him I’m going to die of mortification. “I just wanted you to know I’m sorry for what happened between us.”
“Lee,” he says, drawing my eyes back to his face. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not disappointed that this didn’t work out, but there’s nothing to forgive.”
My heart’s pounding in my throat, pumping massive volumes of blood to my face. “I got drunk and threw myself at you. I practically—”
He presses a finger to my lips and fails at suppressing a smile. “And I loved every second of it.”
I’m scarlet. I can feel it. He doesn’t embarrass me further by pointing it out. He really is one of the good ones. He’s going to find someone so much better than me.
“Since we’ve already come this far, let’s check those dogs,” he says, pulling back onto the road.
“Thanks,” I say, and I hope he knows I mean for more than the dogs.
Wes takes the corner onto our short dirt road cautiously, then stops, looking toward our house on the bluff for any sign of trouble. “Looks like we’re clear,” he says after a minute.
There’s an ache in my heart as we climb the drive. When I finally got through to Rob yesterday, I wasn’t sure he would come for me. But I knew I couldn’t wait any longer without risking missing them. I was right. Rob picked me up and we got back to the house at five o’clock, just as Wes was loading the rest of my family into the cars. I didn’t even have time to go inside and grab a clean pair of underwear.
Wes got word this morning that the first flight to D.C. they could get all five of us on wasn’t until noon. So I went to Wes early this morning and asked him to bring me back here on the premise of checking on the dogs.
I step out of the car and go to them while Wes stalks to the front porch.
The note I left for the shelter has come loose and I find it halfway to the bluff, caught on a low branch of a scrub oak. I retrieve it and clip it back to the fence.
“Hey, guys,” I say, opening the gate and stepping into the run.
They both jump on me, even Burn, which makes me think they know something’s wrong. I feel myself getting misty-eyed. I crouch down between them and hug them both to my shoulders. “Believe it or not, I’m going to miss you guys.”
Crash can’t resist giving me a tongue bath.
I rub him between the ears. “You’re going to have someone new to torment very soon. I promise.”
I glance at their bowls. The water’s fine, but they’ve run through their food. No surprise.
“I need to get their chow from the pantry,” I tell Wes, grabbing the bowl and moving through the gate. The boys try to follow me, but I push them back and close them in the run.
He gives the place a wary once-over and pulls his handgun from the shoulder holster. “Make it quick.”
He leads the way in, or really, his Glock does, and I fill the bowl with puppy chow. “Since we’re here, can I grab a few things from my room?” I ask.
In answer, he moves toward the stairs and starts up them.
I leave the bowl on the counter and follow him up. He holds a hand up to stop me when we reach the top, and I wait as he pushes each door open in turn and looks into the rooms. When he gets to mine, he quickly steps inside.
I start to follow, but my heart leaps into my throat when I hear him bark, “Don’t move!”
I bolt through the door and he’s got his gun cocked against a man’s head. The man is spread-eagle on my bed, and with Wes’s broad body in the way, all I can clearly see is light brown hair, dark gray slacks, and a pair of black wingtips.
I know those wingtips.
“Oliver?” I gasp.
Wes glances over his shoulder at me, but Oliver sits up at the same second, and all Wes’s attention focuses back on him. “I said, don’t move!”
I rush to Oliver.
Wes pushes me back with his free hand. “Get back to the car, Lee!”
“What are you doing here?” I ask Oliver, straining against Wes’s grip to get to him. “Why are you here?”
At my desperate plea, Wes’s sharp gaze flashes to me for the briefest second.
Despite the gun to his head, Oliver gives me a resigned smile. “I’m in your bed. I hoped that might be self-explanatory.”
“I thought you left.” My heart pounds in my throat, making the words come out thick.
“Lee,” Wes warns, his grip tightening on my arm as he tries to pull me behind him.
“Tried to,” Oliver answers. “Couldn’t.”
My heart oozes into a puddle at my feet.
“You left something in the hotel room,” he says, reaching into his pocket. “I was hoping you might want it back.”
“Freeze!” Wes shouts, his finger tightening on the trigger.
I tear my arm out of his grasp and fling myself at Oliver. “No!”
The gun fires as I land on him.
“God fucking dammit!” I hear Wes yell through the ringing in my ears.
There’s the firm pressure of a hand on my side and Oliver’s voice. “Fuck! Lee!” Then softer, close to my ear, a muttered, “It’s okay, Cheetah. You’re going to be okay.”
Wes lifts his gun toward Oliver, where I’m curled against him.
I reach up and grasp the barrel as my head goes fuzzy. “I love him,” I say.
My voice sounds tinny and far off, like an echo through a train tunnel.
Oliver pulls me tighter against him. “Stay with me, Cheetah.”
The breathy whisper against my ear is warm, but the rest of me feels suddenly cold. I shiver and Oliver’s arms hold me closer.
There’s shouting in the background, Wes yelling something about an ambulance, but all I hear is “Stay with me, baby.” Oliver’s wet plea against my face.
“Always,” I answer, but the world feels soft and airy around the edges and I’m not sure anything actually comes out of my mouth.
Oliver’s face fades. The room fades. Sounds fade as the tide takes me under.
And then I drift.
***
I wake up to daylight. And Oliver’s scent.
Then pain. A dull throb in my left side.
As my eyes focus, I find the harsh fluorescent lighting of a hospital room overhead. And then I find Oliver. He’s seated at the side of my bed, his shoulder propped against the bedrail. The window is open behind him and the louvers of the shades flap against each other in the breeze of a sunny day.
“Welcome back,” he says with a smile.
It takes a second for all the pieces to click in my mind. My hand goes to my side, where I feel a gauze dressing through the thin cotton of my hospital gown. “Wes shot me.”
“The bastard did,” Oliver says, his face contorting. “Got your spleen and nicked your kidney. You lost a lot of blood.”
“He’s not a bastard,” I say, more defensively than I mean to.
He gives his head a shake. “You’ll never convince me of that.”
I slide up in the bed and look down at myself. Other than the bandage on my side, I seem to be intact. “He was protecting me.”
“From this?” Oliver says, holding up my engagement ring.
I take a deep breath and look at him. “What happened? After?”
“Your bastard marshal cuffed me to the bed, got you loaded in the ambulance, then called it in and found out who I was. He had to let me go. Tried to send me back to Nebraska, but I told him I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew you were out of the woods.”
Relief floods me, washing out the shock. “So, that’s it?”
“They want to relocate us, but otherwise”—he shrugs—“yeah. I guess that’s it.”
“Relocate us …”
He holds the ring out to me, his face set. “This is it, Cheetah. No more dicking around. It’s Friday. We’re legal. If you still want this, we’re doing it now. They won’t be able to separate us if we’re married.”
I hold up my hand and butterflies swirl through my insides as he slips the ring onto my finger. He bends to kiss me. His lips are warm and firm and his strength pours into me through his touch. I fist a hand into his hair and h
old him here when he tries to draw away.
When I finally let him go, he smiles. “I like the enthusiasm. Give me a sec to get everything set up.” He glances back as he slips through the door into the hall. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“I should be saying that to you,” I say, smiling back.
“Never again,” he answers, holding my gaze. Then he grins and vanishes into the hall.
It’s a minute later when a nurse pokes her head in, then steps into the room when she sees I’m awake. She’s a tall African American woman whose grin is like a beacon. “How you feeling, girlfriend?” she asks coming toward the bed.
I pull myself up a little and am surprised that, other than feeling a little weak, I seem okay. “Pretty good, actually.”
“Got you on some happy drugs to knock the pain down some,” she tells me, wrapping a blood-pressure cuff around my arm.
She sticks a thermometer in my mouth while we wait for the machine to fill the cuff, then deflate.
“Lookin’ good,” she says, pulling the thermometer out and jotting some numbers on a clipboard hooked to the end of my bed.
When she’s gone, I drop my head and stare at the ceiling. Despite the euphoria at knowing Oliver’s finally mine, my heart feels heavy in my chest, knowing what I’ve given up to get him. Rob, Ulie, Grant, and Sherm are already long gone, back at Safesite. I’ll never see them again.
A tear leaks from the corner of my eye into my ear. I quickly wipe it away when the door opens, not wanting Oliver to think I’m regretting my decision.
But it’s Wes who steps through the door. He tucks in next to the doorframe as if afraid to come too close.
“Hi,” I say, trying not to cringe. The last time I saw Wes, I was on my bed, in the arms of my fiancé. A fiancé I had neglected to mention to Wes.
Which is the whole reason I’m in the hospital now.
He looks as chagrined as I feel as he moves tentatively toward me. “Good to see your eyes open.” I’m not sure how he knows they are, since his gaze is pinned to the floor. “How are you feeling?”
I press a hand to my bandages. “Not too bad, considering.”
Over the Line: On the Run Novel Page 23