by KB Winters
Aha. So that was it.
Chase smiled at Jackson and squatted down in front of him to match his height. “Of course I remember. What do you say we go out first thing tomorrow? This will be a different kind of fishing than we did on the boat. Who knows what we’ll catch!”
Jackson’s smile returned and he zoomed off, pumping his fist above his head as he hooped and hollered over the news.
I glanced over at Chase with a smirk.
“If only it were always this easy, huh?” he said, returning my amused glance.
I laughed. “No kidding! I know that Jackson’s an easy kid but I still live in fear over the upcoming teen years.”
Chase wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. He didn’t say anything, but a silent understanding passed between us. If everything worked out the way that we wanted it to—I wouldn’t have to face Jackson’s teen years alone. And that thought put me more at peace than the quaint little Mexican hideaway.
* * * *
Over the past few nights on the boat, Chase and I had yet to spend an entire night together, mostly out of fear of confusing Jackson, but we’d made love every night and each time became more passionate and intimate than the one before as our feelings grew. When we’re in bed together afterward, we would lie together in our own little cocoon of tangled sheets and covers, and talk about what the future might hold.
Chase had told me what Matt had said on the phone, about the case Henry was building, but he’d assured me that with Henry’s track record there was no way he’d escape an investigation by the FBI unscathed. I wanted to believe he was right, but the fear of what Henry was truly capable of overshadowed his assurances from time to time.
“When can we move in?” I asked, setting aside my anxieties. I found distraction was my most reliable coping method.
“I’ll sign the papers in the morning before taking Jackson out fishing and then come back and help you pack up. The house comes with pretty much everything we’ll need. Dishes, pots and pans, all the furniture. There’s even a barbecue pit out back. So all we’ll need to bring with us is clothing and food. I’ll also arrange to have the boat docked for a longer stay and once all of that is done, this little baby will be ours for as long as we want, and then we can relax a little bit.”
“Relax?” I laughed softly. “I’m not even sure I know how to do that anymore.”
Chase pressed a kiss to my forehead, letting his lips linger against my skin. “Well, I’ll tell you what, this is the perfect place to learn.”
He had a point, the cottage was beautiful and remote and about as far away from civilization as we could get while still having access to running water and updated plumbing. It was the kind of place that people paid big money to go to on vacation to rejuvenate and recoup from their stress-filled lives. But looking around the quaint house, I had a feeling that this little gem had gone mostly undiscovered. I actually had no idea how Chase had even found out about it in the first place. He was close to fluent in Spanish and had a knack for working with people. He might have heard about the place from a local or seen it in a newspaper.
In any case, I was just grateful to have a solid roof over my head and even more importantly, solid ground under my feet.
The next morning went just as smoothly as Chase had described to me the night before. He left early, before the sun was even up, to go into town and meet with the owner of the cottage to sign the rental agreement. He’d refused to tell me the price of the home and insisted on covering the cost himself. I tried to argue, reminding him about the stacks of cash tucked inside the locked security drawer under my bed, but he’d had none of it and left before I could force the money into his hands. When he came back, I had everything packed up and had enlisted Jackson’s help to get it topside. Chase found a taxi to take us to the canal so we loaded everything up and off we went.
Later that afternoon, the boys left with their fishing gear to go down the shore a little and try their luck. I waved them off from the small porch of the cottage and watched them walk off into the early afternoon sun. It was an odd realization to stop and take a deep breath and not feel the crushing weight of anxiety slam back into me. Things were far from resolved, but for the time being—we were safe and secure. No one would be able to track us to Manzanilla and even if they could, we were far enough off the grid that they’d be looking for a couple of needles in a haystack. Or, in this case, a large, dense, wild jungle.
With any luck, Henry’s goons would get taken out by a slick jungle cat before they found their way to our little slice of heaven.
Chapter Fifteen
Melissa
The days started to pass by in a blur, and each day was slow and relaxing. Chase and Jackson went fishing most days while I stayed at the house to read or nap. There was a small TV in the living room but it didn’t receive much more than a local access channel and everything was in Spanish anyway. Most of the time, I’d spend the morning inside, baking some treat for the boys when they got back from fishing, and then lounged on the back deck with a cup of coffee. More often than not, I’d fall asleep listening to something on Chase’s tablet. The man had killer taste in music and a few movies loaded onto the device that I could access even without internet.
In the afternoon, I’d walk along the shore until I found Chase and Jackson’s fishing spot of the day and would join in their fun. They usually brought home a few small fish and we’d walk back to the house together and clean them for dinner and cook over the BBQ pit in the back. After dinner, Jackson would tell us stories he’d made up in his head during the course of the day—Chase insisted that someday he was going to be a famous author—and then he’d eventually crash out from all the excitement.
Leaving Chase and me alone to enjoy some adult time. Chase had made a few trips back to Matt’s boat to snag bottles of wine for us to try but the supplies were running short. Luckily, there were a few shops in town and as the city was only a short boat trip away from Manzanilla, I doubted it would be too much trouble to find more.
By the time we reached the three-week mark from the day we met Chase in a fast food restaurant, my life in California felt farther away than ever before. Sometimes in the quiet of my daily routine, while Chase and Jackson were off having an adventure, the memories of the past would come back to me, serving as a bittersweet reminder of what I’d left behind.
After everything that had happened, I knew my life would never be the same, even if we ever made it back home again.
I knew I’d no longer be content as a trophy wife, filling my days with mindless shopping, unimportant errands, and social networking with a horde of people who no longer had anything in common with me. It was like I shed that skin.
All of the things that had once been my life raft—the sprawling mansion, fancy cars, exotic vacations, and vast collection of designer clothes and accessories, were now nothing more than hollow reflections of what had been an unhappy life. In some ways—as crazy as it sounded—I felt grateful to Henry for finally pushing me away. He’d inadvertently opened my eyes to just how unhappy I was. And, though it made my heart ache to admit it, how unhappy Jackson had been as well.
In the time we’d spent with Chase, on the run, Jackson had transformed from a reserved, clingy, and somewhat spoiled child into a ball of light that spread sunshine everywhere he went as he made up songs and stories and a nearly constant stream of giggles. I thought back to my conversation with Chase on the boat following the hurricane, about how important it was to me that Jackson have stability in his life. At the time, I’d seen it as something necessary for him in order to survive. I hadn’t been able to comprehend a life where we could ever be normal under the extreme circumstances we were thrown into. But the past weeks at the cottage had shown me that not only was it possible—it was coming to life right before my eyes.
There were still obstacles to overcome. I needed to figure out something to do in regards to school and finding more age-appropriate playmates, but
I no longer felt the heaviness of guilt or fear that I’d ruined his life by bringing him along with me that day after discovering Henry’s horrible scheme.
* * * *
Over the past few days, I’d been feeling a little bit off and wanted to get out and get something to help settle my stomach. I also wanted to grab some vitamins for all of us, since we’d been eating a somewhat limited diet. At first, I assumed I felt run down and ragged from the after effects of all the stress of the storm and the events in Cabo, but after settling into life at the cottage for the last two weeks—I hadn’t noticed any improvement.
If anything, it was getting worse.
The night before, after Chase and I had stayed up talking in his bed, he’d gone to the restroom and I’d swiped some of the coins and bills that Chase had left out by his wallet and small hand gun that he carried concealed under his shirt most days. The stash of money from the duffel bag Henry had given me to deliver was securely locked away on the boat. And even if I’d had it with me, I didn’t think the locals would accept American bills as it was too inconvenient for them to go into Manzanilla and have it converted. The people in the town had a simple existence and even something like taking a day to ride across the canal and get into town would be an inconvenience to them.
After saying goodbye to Chase and Jackson as they embarked on another fishing expedition, I locked the front door of the house and went into the small village. I hadn’t asked Chase where to go, mostly because I knew he wouldn’t be a fan of the idea of me wondering around the town unsupervised, but I didn’t want to worry him by sending him on the particular errand by himself.
I paid a ferry to take me across the canal and then a small motorized cart to take me into the main part of the city. My Spanish was still lacking but I had picked up a few more basic terms from watching Chase navigate over the past weeks. During some of my time alone at the cottage, I’d found a guidebook in one of the bookcases and knew exactly where I needed to go.
I pulled the book from the cross body bag that Chase had purchased for me at the market, and showed the destination to my driver. He smiled and nodded that he knew where to go and we set off into the heart of the city and a short time later he deposited me in front of the local farmacia. I asked him—at least, I think I asked him—to wait for me at the curb and then hurried inside.
Even though I knew Henry’s men wouldn’t be able to track us in the small, remote city, it still clung to the back of my mind that there was a chance someone could be watching. Or, if Henry’s men arrived, all they would have to do was show a picture of me to the locals and possibly be given details about this visit. It was best to keep a low profile.
The pharmacy was a small shop, smaller than the front vestibule of most banks back in California. As soon as I stepped inside a woman, speaking rapid Spanish, came over to me to offer her assistance. I stumbled through a brief introduction and the woman’s eyes went wide. She held up a finger to me, said something that I couldn’t understand, and scurried off through a partitioned doorway into the shop next door to the pharmacy.
I glanced around, suddenly feeling very out of place, and was relieved when a moment later the woman reappeared with a tall man. The man offered me a handshake and I took it, starting to introduce myself again in Spanish.
The man smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled, relieved that he spoke perfect English. “How can we assist you today?”
I swallowed and looked between the two of them. “Well, basically, I’ve been feeling sick lately and more tired than usual. I’m not sure if I need some vitamins or maybe some kind of antacid. Where would I find those items?”
The man relayed the information to the shop owner and she nodded before rapidly firing off what sounded like a series of questions in response.
“Do you think you have food poisoning? Any vomiting or other…bathroom problems?” The man looked slightly embarrassed at the delicate question.
I shook my head. “No, mostly I’m just tired and then sometimes in the morning, before breakfast I feel like I want to throw up but I haven’t yet.”
After another brief translation exchange, the man smiled at me and I noted his gaze dropped to my stomach. He drew his eyes back to mine and asked, “Have you taken a pregnancy test?”
His soft-spoken question hit me with the force of a Mack truck.
Pregnant?
I shook my head. “No, no…no that’s not possible, I’m afraid.” But even as I said it, the pieces in my mind all started clicking together. The room began to sway as I realized that not only were my symptoms right on the money with the way I’d felt when I was pregnant with Jackson, but I’d also missed my period. In all the chaos I hadn’t realized it before, but standing there in the middle of the pharmacy, I counted backwards and realized that I was ten maybe even eleven days late. That fact was the most damning as normally someone could set a calendar by my schedule.
Shit. I was pregnant.
“Oh my gosh.” Whatever strength I had left drained away, and I stumbled to the left before I braced myself against one of the metal shelving units.
The man and woman both raced forward and helped me into a nearby wicker chair. Once I sat down, I leaned forward with my arms hugged around my middle, and a stream of tears flooded my cheeks.
The woman said something in quick sentences to the man and he ran off. He returned moments later and handed me a bottle of water. I took it and offered a small smile through the tears, their kindness softening the blow of the shocking news.
After I calmed down, the woman left my side and came back with a small cardboard box and a bottle. The labels were in Spanish, but I knew what they were. A pregnancy test and a bottle of antacid. I tried to pay, but she shook her head, declining my money.
“It’s for free, Miss,” the man translated. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. Thank you, to you both.” I stood up and started back towards the door.
“Miss, my name is Paulo, and I am a doctor. Come and see me, okay?”
“Thank you, Paulo.”
I pushed out into the bright sun and hurried back across the cobblestone road to where my driver was still waiting, clutching the test in one hand and the bottle of Mexican tums in the other. I asked him to take me back to the canal and we raced off down the street.
When I got back home, Chase and Jackson were still out, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I went into the bathroom and unwrapped the test.
Three minutes later, the news was confirmed.
I was pregnant with Chase’s baby.
* * * *
Continued in the final book of On The Run Book Three!
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Acknowledgements
Thank you! I love you all and thank you for making my books a success!! I appreciate each and every one of you.
Thanks to all of my beta readers, street teamers, ARC readers and Facebook fans. Y’all are THE BEST!
And a huge very special thanks to my wonderful PA, Silla. Without you, I’d be a *hot mess! I’m still a hot mess, but without your keen sense of organization and skills, I’d be a burny fiery inferno of hot mess!! Thank you!
And a very special thanks to my editor, Tina Rucci (who sometimes has to work all through the night! (*See HOT MESS above!) Thank you for making my words make sense.
Copyright © 2016 BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
About The Author
KB Winters has an addiction to caffeine, tattoos and hard-bodied alpha males. The men in her books are very sexy, protective and sometimes bossy, her ladies are…well…bossier!
Living in sunny Southern California, the embarrassingly hopeless romantic writes every chance she gets!
You can connect with KB on Facebook and Twitter!
Or stop by her website at KBWinters.com!
On The Run
The Elite Series
Book 3
By KB Winters
Copyright © 2016 KB Winters
Published By: BookBoyfriends Publishing LLC
Copyright and Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.