No Place to Run (22 page)

All she had to do was be patient. Sam would search for her. They’d fan out, cover the territory surrounding the cabin, and they’d gradually move outward until she was behind the search radius. If she could outlast them and they didn’t find her, she could double back and escape undetected.

Her plan was brilliant, and she wasn’t out running like a headless chicken, but it was only brilliant if it worked.

She stifled the hysterical laughter that threatened to bubble up. She’d had plenty of experience running. Hiding like some fugitive. But she hadn’t imagined having to flee the man she’d trusted to protect her.

She drew her legs farther into her, molding them against her belly. She dropped her head to her knees as anger worked over her skin, hot and itchy.

If she hadn’t gone to Sam, she wouldn’t have felt hope. She wouldn’t have touched the sun for one brief, shining moment, only to have that warmth and joy extinguished.

She’d been a fool, and now she not only had to keep ahead of her uncle, but she had to keep from being taken into custody and having God knows what done with her by whatever agency Resnick represented. If he represented one at all.

Goddamn them. Damn them all. Especially Sam.

Whoever Resnick was, the U.S. government wanted her father enough that they’d do whatever it took to achieve their goal. She was expendable. Her child was expendable. They might suspect her father was dead, but they didn’t know it. Not yet. And while they could do nothing with the knowledge that she’d killed him, they could certainly use the information that he was dead to their advantage.

She leaned against the cool rock face and closed her eyes wearily. Just last night she’d lain in Sam’s arms and summoned the courage to confess that she’d killed a man in cold blood. She already had so much working against her in Sam’s eyes. What would he think about the mother of his child being a killer?

Then she’d woken up feeling certain that everything would be okay. Sam would understand. He wouldn’t judge her. She would confess everything to him, he’d take the necessary steps to take her uncle out, and then she could live in safety—finally—with her child. Sam’s child. They could be a family.

Only Sam had never had any intention of them being anything.

For hours she sat there, until her muscles screamed in protest. Her bladder ached and she grew twitchier with each passing minute. Still, she wouldn’t move. Not yet. She’d wait until nightfall if it killed her.

She dozed lightly, her sleep interrupted every time she heard the slightest sound. Her neck was sore and her back was killing her. She had to shift her position.

Inch by inch, she adjusted, until she stretched her legs across the small area shielded by the rocks. A sigh of relief whispered past her lips as she curled on her side.

She looked upward to the sky, watching thin, wispy clouds roll by and the blue grow pale as the sun began to set. It wouldn’t be much longer now. Her patience would be rewarded.

She slept again, and when she woke this time, she was surprised by the darkness surrounding her. She’d slept longer than she’d thought she would, and now she was disoriented as to time. It was well past dusk and already stars had popped above her. Maybe Sam had given up, or broadened the search radius such that he would be miles away by now.

She rolled to her knees, braced her palms on the ground and slowly pushed herself upward. Her knees creaked, her back popped, and her wound protested the strain she was putting on it.

For several seconds she stood and stretched, working the kinks out of her stiff body. She was cold and hungry, but she shrugged off both discomforts. Neither was new to her.

As carefully as possible, she climbed over the shortest rock facing, testing her footholds to make sure she didn’t fall or make unnecessary noise.

On her way over, she slipped and landed with a thump that knocked the breath from her. She wrapped her arms around her belly and lay there, mentally examining herself for any injury.

After catching her breath, she picked herself up and stared around, trying to gain her bearings. It was dark as a well bottom and there was no moonlight to guide her. Good for not being seen. Not so good for being able to see.

She crept through the trees and the underbrush a lot slower and stealthier than she’d done hours before. She’d had all day to come up with a plan, but the only thing that stood out was that she had to find transportation. She couldn’t make it on foot if she hoped to put any distance between her and her immediate threat.

When she was but a short distance from the cabin, she paused and rubbed at the stitch in her side. She could barely make out where the trees fell away, and she inched forward, trying to make out whether the lights were on in the cabin and if the trucks were still parked out front. She didn’t know how stubborn Sam would be or how long he would persist in searching for her or if he’d searched at all.

“Going somewhere?”

She whirled around and slapped a hand over her mouth to stanch the reflexive scream. The light from a flashlight blinded her, and she threw up her other arm to block it.

Poised for flight, she shot to the right, but Garrett’s hand snapped around her wrist, and he hauled her up short.

“Let me go,” she said desperately.

“You’re going to hurt yourself. Stop struggling,” he said in a calm voice.

Tears knotted her throat. “Damn you.”

The light went down, and then he turned it upward so the immediate area was illuminated. She expected his face to be his usual thundercloud, but he wasn’t frowning.

“Let me go,” she pleaded. “You don’t even like me. You haven’t liked me from the beginning. Let me go and I’ll never bother you or Sam again. But at least give me a chance to protect my baby.”

Something that looked like regret and unease flashed across his face. His features softened and his grip lessened on her arm. For a moment hope sparked in her chest. He was going to let her go. But when she tried to pull away, his grip tightened again.

“Listen to me, Sophie. Sam is frantic with worry. Whatever you heard or think you heard, he isn’t about to sell you out.”

“He already did,” she said bitterly. “I shouldn’t have expected anything else. He doesn’t owe me anything. I was just some chick he picked up in a bar. Knocking me up wasn’t part of the deal.”

“If you knew Sam, you wouldn’t be spouting that horse shit,” Garrett said. “I get that you’re hurt. I get that you feel betrayed. But give him a chance to explain. We
will
protect you, but we can’t do that if you take off on us.”

“ ‘We’?” she questioned. “Are you including yourself in that promise?”

“I am,” he said evenly.

“Why?” she blurted. “You’ve made no secret of the fact you despise me. You don’t trust me. You don’t want me anywhere near your brother.”

“You’re carrying my niece or nephew. You’re important to Sam.” There was resignation in his voice, as if acknowledging that left a bad taste in his mouth. “That makes you important to me.”

She stared back at him and he met her gaze. There was no anger, none of the disapproval she’d grown so used to in his eyes. She swayed in his grip, suddenly so fatigued that she would have fallen if he hadn’t reached his other hand out to steady her.

“Let me take you back, Sophie. You’re tired, you’re hurt and you have no business running like you’ve been running with you carrying a baby.”

“I can’t.”

Her voice turned pleading, and she stared imploringly at him, hoping she could sway him.

“I can’t go with that Resnick guy. Don’t you understand? I’m expendable to him. I’m nothing in comparison to what they gain by taking down my family’s network. They won’t care about me or my baby. I want her to have better than I had. Please, just let me take care of my baby.”

Garrett’s entire face softened, but he didn’t let go of her arms.

“I swear to you, Sophie, Sam will never allow Resnick to take you anywhere. That was never his intention. Not only that,
I
won’t allow it. You have my word.”

“You aren’t really offering me a choice,” she said dully.

He sighed. “No, I’m not. I’d like you to come back willingly, but if you don’t, I’ll be forced to bring you back by whatever means necessary.”

Her chin dropped and she closed her eyes.

“All right,” she accepted quietly.

CHAPTER 22

WHEN Garrett pushed into the cabin, Sophie saw that she and Garrett were the only two occupants. He closed the door behind them and shot her a look that suggested she not think of running again.

He gestured toward the table. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something to eat and drink.”

She sank wearily into a chair and folded her arms over the tabletop so she could rest her head. When Garrett set a glass of milk in front of her, she drank greedily and then returned her head to its perch. She closed her eyes and rested while Garrett rummaged around in the refrigerator. She was hungry, but she was too tired to eat.

A moment later, the door burst open, startling her from her lethargy. She bolted upright to see Sam stalk in, his eyes blazing. She barely had time to register her alarm before he was in front of her.

He yanked her to her feet, cupped one hand around her nape and then dragged her to him. He kissed her long and hard, his mouth molded so tight to hers that neither of them could draw a breath.

She inserted her hands between them and shoved as hard as she could. He didn’t budge. Instead he deepened his kiss, as if convincing her of his ownership.

His tongue flashed over hers. Warm, wet, tasting. His fingers rubbed firmly over the column of her neck and then up into her hair, tangling with the strands.

Finally he drew away, but he kept a hold on her nape as he stared down at her through half-lidded eyes.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he said in a low voice.

She tried to pull away again, but he cupped his other hand to her cheek and smoothed his thumb over her swollen lips.

“I know I hurt you, Sophie. I’m sorry. Sorrier than I can say. I don’t have time to explain everything to you now. I hope you’ll understand that.”

With that, he turned and strode toward Garrett. She listened in horror as he told his brother that Frank had had a heart attack and that their mother had been abducted from the hospital.

She swayed and had to brace herself against the table. She didn’t chance looking at either man. She couldn’t bear to see the rage in Garrett’s eyes. Rage that would be directed at her.

Nausea boiled in her stomach like acid, and she gulped breaths through her mouth. Her chest heaved, and she closed her eyes before finally sinking back into the chair.

All she wanted to do was bury her face in her arms and weep.

“Sophie, we need to go.”

She raised her head to see Sam standing by the table, his expression grim. Beyond him, Garrett was already striding from the cabin.

“Where?” she croaked out.

“Back home. To my father. I need to see him and then we have to find my mom.”

She shakily rose, nodding her agreement. Of course they had to go. She went out ahead of Sam and nearly ran into Garrett at the bottom of the steps. He grasped her arm to steady her before Sam took over and ushered her to the truck.

The ride was silent and tense. The two men didn’t speak. Garrett stared moodily out the window while Sam’s gaze remained fixed on the road.

She alternated feeling guilty for bringing her uncle to their doorstep and feeling angry for feeling guilty. Her uncle going after Sam and his family was inevitable. Once Sophie had been caught, her uncle would have taken steps to eradicate the Kellys.

But now she needed to give Sam all the necessary ammunition to take the fight to her uncle and hopefully rescue his mother in the process. She prayed that Marlene would be kept alive. If her father were still in charge, Marlene would have already been killed and left for Sam and his family to find as a message. Her uncle wasn’t as ruthless as her father, though. Not that he didn’t try to be. He was just weaker. He wanted to be seen as someone who was strong and as capable of running a criminal empire as her father, but not many men were. Alex Mouton had had no conscience when he was living, and Sophie could only hope he was consigned to hell in death.

She pressed her lips together and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then she straightened in her seat and pushed away from the window so she could readily see both men from her position in the back.

“My father is dead.”

Sam’s head came up to look at her in the rearview mirror at the same time Garrett whipped around to stare at her.

“You’re sure of this?” Sam demanded. “This is important, Sophie. We have to know for sure. We can’t afford to assume anything.”

“Did you see his body?” Garrett cut in.

“I saw,” she said softly. “I’m the one who killed him.”

Sam braked suddenly and pulled onto the shoulder. He shoved the truck into park but left the engine turning. Then he rotated around so he too could stare back at her.

“You want to run that by me again?”

“I killed him. I shot him to be exact.”

“Holy fuck,” Garrett muttered.

Sam closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in a gesture of frustration.

“You shot him.”

“Yes.”

“Christ, is that why your uncle is after you? Revenge?” Garrett asked.

“I have something he wants.”

She chased the tremble from her voice, refusing to wimp out now that she’d boldly made her confession.

Sam immediately became more alert. His eyes sharpened, then narrowed.

“What do you have, Sophie?”

“They key to my father’s vault.”

Garrett frowned harder. “And? That has significance why?”

“The vault houses my father’s wealth. Not only his wealth, but all the details of his business transactions, his contacts, prototypes of the weapons he has developed over the years. Your Mr. Resnick was concerned about the idea of him developing nuclear technology. If he has, the details are there with everything else.”