AspenTrilogy (Boxed Set)

by Cindy Stark

  She was grateful though, at some point during the night, she'd come to terms with the consequences of her bad decisions. She was not like her father. He made choices to purposefully hurt people. Yes, she'd been careless and was still to blame, but she'd never intentionally hurt someone.

  No doubt she'd pay a price for her lies, though. In all likelihood, she'd destroyed whatever she'd built with Milo. With each of life's lessons, there was a cost. But being here with him had taught her many things about herself, and she couldn't regret that. The first of which was she was stronger than she'd thought. The second was there was still happiness to be found in the world. If she couldn't find it with Milo, she'd heal and search until she found it somewhere else. There may never be another man who could compare to her sexy deputy with the startling blue eyes, but she'd find a way to be happy.

  In the kitchen, Milo had left a note stating he'd gone into town and that Quinn would arrive around noon. She wanted to call Milo a coward for not sticking around to see her off, but she wouldn't judge how hard this might have been on him, too. She'd known he'd cared. She slammed a fist against her heart as a wave of pain rippled through. God, she'd miss him and regret for the rest of her life the choices that had pushed him away.

  It took her less than fifteen minutes to pack her belongings in a suitcase and tuck the cell phone in her pocket. No sense throwing away a good phone, and she'd already wasted enough of Quinn's and Milo's hard-earned money. Somehow, she'd find a way to pay them back for the kindness she'd taken for granted.

  Now she was cursed with time, waiting for Quinn to show. Waiting for the trial that would begin in a few days. Waiting until she could start a new life. A life she would cherish and not mess up.

  * * *

  Milo's handgun fit well in her hand. Ariana shot off several rounds, sending cans rocketing into the air, enjoying the way the gun kicked as she fired. Power. She liked it, but she would not abuse it like others in her family had.

  She climbed the fence and reset the cans. It would be at least another hour before Quinn arrived, and she could not sit around doing nothing. Empty time generated anxious thoughts in her head. Thoughts about Milo. Thoughts over what Quinn would say. He might forgive her even if Milo couldn't. At least she hoped so.

  She scaled the fence again, surprised to hear an engine cruising down Milo's drive. She glanced at her watch. Was Quinn early? A thought popped into her brain, and her heart soared. Maybe Milo had come back to say goodbye.

  She hurried around the side of the house, her hopeful heart prepared to meet whoever it was.

  The violent sound of wood shattering stunned her. It sounded as though someone had kicked in the front door. From her stance, she could see a foreign black sedan parked in the drive. Illinois license plates caught her attention and nearly cut off her blood supply.

  Her father's men had found her.

  The irony of her situation didn't escape her. She'd become the little boy who'd cried wolf. Only she didn't intend to die.

  If she ran down the road, they'd find her before she ever made it to someone's house. And then there was that possibility she'd put her rescuers in danger. She couldn't do that.

  Especially not now.

  Her best bet was to head to the river and hide out there. If they didn't see her leave, they might think she wasn't living there any longer. Without wasting another second, she dashed to the back fence, adrenaline allowing her to hop right over it. She'd call Quinn. Not Milo. He might be closer, but she couldn't put him through the angst he'd suffer from leaving her alone.

  She made it several hundred yards when she heard a holler from behind. Whoever was after her had spotted her and hiding was no longer an option. She'd have to follow the advice Milo had given her weeks ago and head south to Luke's house.

  The sound of a gun exploded behind her, but she didn't think the bullet had come close enough to reach her. She glanced back, spotting two men sprinting through the prairie grass, far enough away that she doubted even Milo could hit her if he were behind the gun.

  She pulled the phone from her pocket and hit redial on Quinn's cell number. The second she heard his voice on the line, her words burst from her. "They're here, Quinn. Two men. They have guns." Her voice came out rough and choppy from running.

  "Shit. Where are you?"

  "Running. Toward the river behind Milo's house. I have a good start. I'll head south once I reach cover of the trees. Going toward Luke's house like Milo told me."

  "Good girl. I need to hang up to call for back up, okay? But I'll call you back."

  "I have Milo's gun." She was far from safety, but hearing Quinn's voice helped.

  "Don't stop to shoot unless it's necessary. Don't let them get close. Just keep running, honey. I'm not far away."

  She hung up and pocketed the phone, needing to focus on running. She took another glance back. The men seemed to be farther away than before.

  She had a chance. And she had a weapon. She wasn't powerless like she'd been when she was sixteen. If she got a good shot, she could take down her assailants.

  * * *

  Milo spotted the black vehicle in his drive the same moment his phone rang. Quinn's name showed on the screen. "Hey." If his friend could have been patient a second longer, he could talk to him in person.

  "Milo."

  It only took one word for Milo to recognize the fear in his friend's voice.

  "There's a situation at your house. Ariana is being chased by two armed men. She has your gun. She's headed toward the river, and then to Luke's house. I have aerial support on the way."

  "Oh, Jesus. I just pulled up." He shoved his truck in park and tucked the phone in his pocket. The closest weapon he had was the sniper rifle in his SUV. He grabbed it, not bothering to check his house for intruders and ran full out to the backyard and over the fence.

  If Milo couldn't reach her in time, he prayed Quinn would.

  There was no doubt. He would not survive Ariana's death.

  * * *

  Ariana's lungs burned like a wildfire in her chest. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get enough air. Focusing had become a difficult chore. She glanced behind her. She couldn't see her assailants, but she'd coursed up and down several small hills so it was possible they were just out of sight. The river lay not too far ahead, along with trees that would provide some cover. Once she reached the water, she'd slow down. She had to. Then she'd head south, and maybe if the fates were on her side, she could reach Luke's property before the gunmen caught up to her.

  Excitement at reaching the sparkling river gave her an extra squirt of adrenaline, and she raced toward the rushing water. Without hesitation, she stepped into the thigh-high stream, careful to avoid the deep parts and to keep her phone and Milo's gun out of the water. Thank God she'd been outside shooting when the men had arrived. It had given her half a chance to survive if she could keep a clear head. If she'd still been asleep, she'd be dead for sure.

  She made it to the other side with no problem. She had to pull herself out of the water using tree branches in order to make it up the steep slope, but this side of the bank had more trees and bushes. She could only hope the men wouldn't think she'd crossed.

  Her wet shoes mixed with the dirt as she hurried across downed trees and rough terrain, slowing her progress. But the less-frantic pace allowed her to catch her breath a bit. She pulled the phone from her pocket, wondering why Quinn hadn't called her back yet.

  She hit redial again, but the screen had gone blank. "No." Panic raced through her as she pushed the power button, hoping it had been turned off. Low battery registered on the screen before the phone shut down again.

  She tossed the useless device aside, her head pounding with fear and lack of oxygen. She jogged along, jumping tree roots and small rocks. Was it even possible to make it to Luke's?

  She'd just about convinced herself she could, when she misjudged the height of a root and tripped. Tendons in her ankle shrieked as she twisted and hit the ground
. What little air she had whooshed out of her lungs on impact. Swift and violent pain radiated from her ankle, bringing tears to her eyes.

  Desperation overtook her, knowing her running had come to an end. Ahead, lay a large rock that appeared to have tumbled and crashed into a grouping of thin aspen trees at some point in the past. She crawled and dropped behind it, gasping for air.

  A long minute passed before the dizziness in her head cleared, and the pain started to ease. Maybe the men would never find her. She'd gotten a good head start on them, and the area was quite vast. Plus, she'd have the police out looking for her soon. She'd just need to hold her ground until help arrived. She wiped the dirty sweat from her brow. It wasn't the best possible situation to be in, but it wasn't impossible, either.

  She tried to swallow, but her exertion had dried the saliva in her mouth and left her wishing for a cold drink of water. She wiped her crusted mouth and scooted closer to the rock, peering over the edge, using the trees for cover.

  Nothing. She sucked in another breath and let it slide out. The endorphins released when she'd twisted her ankle were fading, leaving pain and swelling to build in her ankle. She could try to stand on it, but that would be foolish. She was safe where she was for the moment. Even if she could stand, the best she could do would be to hobble.

  A movement from the corner of her eye rocketed her straight back into panic mode. She could only see one of the men, but he had crossed the river, too, and was headed in her direction.

  She could no longer use her flight response, so fight would have to do. She scooted farther around the edge of the rock, hiding herself as best she could from his view. She slipped Milo's gun from his holster. There was no doubt in her mind, either she or the unknown man jogging toward her would not see the end of the day. She couldn't bear the fact she wouldn't have a chance to apologize to Milo and thank him for everything he'd done for her.

  She had everything to live for, everything to lose, and she refused to die.

  She rested the gun against the rock to steady her hand and waited.

  Her pulse pounded in her head with each step the man took. He was close now. Had to be several years younger than her, and she was sure if he really looked he could spot her. She held still, grateful she had on a black shirt and not something eye-catching like red.

  She narrowed him in her sights, aiming for his heart, and squeezed the trigger.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A shot rang out in the distance, and Milo's heart rolled with a nauseating thud.

  Holy Mother of God. No.

  No shots without him present. No shots until he was close enough to protect Ariana. Already, he swore he could feel her life blood slipping away, and the thought tormented him. He forced himself to breathe and run like no other. The river wasn't too far away. He prayed she'd found cover there.

  * * *

  Ariana waited with her gun trained on the spot where her would-be attacker had stood. She was pretty sure she'd hit him, but she'd closed her eyes at the last second and now wasn't taking any chances.

  More movement across the river drew her attention. A heavier-set man made his way along the edge of the water, his weapon drawn, his gaze scanning the riverbank as he made his way north. "Tony," he called out, and she was certain she recognized the voice.

  Manny? Her father had sent Manny to kill her? They'd played together as children, and now he would try to take her life. There really were no scruples in her father's world. She slid down farther from view.

  "Tony," he called again.

  "She's over here."

  Her blood chilled at the sound of Tony's voice coming from her side of the river. She hadn't hit her target after all, and now they both knew her location.

  Manny wasn't quiet as he splashed his way through the water and up the other side. It appeared the additional pounds he carried slowed his pace, but what difference did it make? He had a gun, and he was coming for her.

  He stopped not far from where she'd shot her first bullet and ducked to the ground. She could hear their voices, but not what they said. Then Manny moved again.

  "Come on, Ariana. Give yourself up. I'm not going to hurt you. Your father just wants to talk, a chance to convince you to see his side."

  She didn't answer. The thought of killing someone sickened her, but they left her with no choice. She was sure Manny knew her general location, but she wasn't going to pinpoint it for him. She slowly lifted her weapon and trained it in his direction. He was good, keeping to the trees, using them for cover. But he couldn't stay hidden one hundred percent of the time.

  She aimed for a spot ahead of him where the trees provided an opportunity and waited for him to step into it. When he did, she kept her eyes wide open and pulled the trigger. A queasy sickness shot through her as the bullet hit somewhere in his chest cavity, and he fell to the ground not a hundred feet from where she lay hidden.

  Dear God. She'd just shot and quite likely killed a man. Another still hunted her.

  She waited for what seemed like forever, her heavy breath loud in her ears. Nothing moved on her side of the riverbed, and the not knowing what had happened tortured her.

  Then she saw him.

  Milo.

  He crept low along the riverbank, getting closer to her and to the gunmen.

  Trepidation for his safety and relief that he was on scene battled inside her, making it hard to breathe.

  "Milo," she cried out, unable to help herself. "I'm across the river." Just as she answered, the sound of helicopter blades cutting the air interrupted the false serenity of the area.

  "There are two men over here with guns," she yelled out, hoping Milo could hear her over the noise. A splinter of wood shot from the edge of the tree near her head and landed in her lap. She flattened herself to the ground. One of the men was still shooting.

  Another shot rang out, and she tried to discern which direction it had come from. Maybe from the other side of the river. Maybe not.

  Then the sound of boots on the ground became clear. She raised her gun, ready to shoot if necessary.

  She nearly pulled the trigger out of fright when Milo's face appeared above her. He dropped to the ground next to her, crushing her in his arms as a number of voices sounded from across the river.

  "How many men are out here, Ariana?"

  "Two." She swallowed. "I think I killed one." She pointed to the motionless body lying on the ground not far from her.

  "I took out the other one." He stood and walked to Manny's body.

  She knew she shouldn't look at him, but she needed to see what she'd done. She got to her feet and hobbled over just as Milo rolled him onto his back. Tatters of blue material surrounded the gushing hole in his chest. The pool of crimson blood beneath him grew larger.

  He blinked, sending an eerie shudder through her. He wasn't dead. She fell on her knees next to him. "Manny. How could you? I thought we were friends."

  "I'm sorry." His words came out as a gurgle. "Your father. Me or you."

  "Does he know I'm here?" She couldn't stand the thought he would send others after her and endanger these new people she'd grown to love.

  "No." His head lolled to the side, but his hazy eyes remained trained on her. "I bugged your friend's phone. Wanted to find you first."

  She couldn't believe him. "Tell me the truth, Manny. No one can help you now, but you might be spared burning in hell if you tell me the truth."

  "Promise. No one, Ari." He took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

  A cold shiver raced across her as his spirit departed.

  She and Milo both jerked around at the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. Quinn ran straight to her and pulled her into a strong embrace. "Thank God." He focused his strained gaze on Milo. "Thank God you got here in time."

  * * *

  Milo couldn't deny the overwhelming jealousy that blanketed him as Quinn cradled Ariana in his arms. She started to cry, an after-effect of their drama for sure, and Quinn handed a handkerchi
ef to her. Milo didn't even have a tissue to offer.

  Armed officers flocked the area. What was quiet a few minutes ago, was now a hive of activity.

  "Let's get you the hell out of here," Quinn said to Ariana, taking a step.

  She winced. "I twisted my ankle pretty badly."

  "I'll help you. These men can deal with this mess. Milo? You'll give them a statement?"

  He nodded.

  "Good. They can get Ariana's later. The helicopter's waiting." Quinn scooped Ariana into his arms and started down the hillside, leaving a huge, gaping hole in Milo's soul.

  At one point, she glanced over Quinn's shoulder and met Milo's gaze. He couldn't tell from the expression on her face what she might have been feeling. He sure as hell recognized the wretched heartbreak he'd been left with.

  Her time was up. She'd testify in a few days, and then she'd be free to pursue her new life. A life without him.

  Ah…God. "Miss me, darlin'."

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Four months later…

  Milo walked along the edge of the frosty river, his boots crunching the crusted snow. Dusk descended upon him at a rapid pace, and he wished time itself would cruise by as fast. Ominous clouds hovered overhead, promising a new layer of the white stuff by morning. The locals would be happy to have the water the melted snow would provide in the spring.

  He couldn't care less at the moment.

  The green leaves of summer were now a forgotten casualty of fall, leaving the twisted branches bare on the trees. It was colder than a witch's tit, as his dad used to tell him. Still, he walked this route every day.

  It was a memorial ritual, he supposed. The last place he'd seen Ariana.

  As far as his heart was concerned, she did die that day.

  Gratitude filled the rest of him, though. He'd done his job, and she was still alive and breathing. Probably laughing as she soaked up some tropical sun. It made him happy to think of her that way. She deserved it.