Page 38 of Second Chance Savior

There was a thread of panic in her voice.

Oftentimes, I’d make a smart-ass comment at a moment like this. All the better to keep my emotional distance. But this was so not the time.

“We’ll be driving by traffic cams. Stillwater’s searching for you, and we know law enforcement is compromised. We can’t take the risk that anyone sees you in the passenger seat.”

She leaned over the open trunk, scowling at the tight space. “I get that, but how long am I going to be in there? Where are we heading?”

“To a friend’s house. About half an hour away.” I put a hand on her shoulder, and she slid away from my grasp.

“Don’t touch me. You’ve done enough of that for one night.”

“Apologies.” Yep, she was pissed about the almost-kiss.

If she only knew how long I had craved my lips on hers. Good thing I hadn’tactuallykissed her. She might’ve punched me.

Without looking at me, Charlie crawled in and curled on her side. I tried to tuck my jacket around her for extra cushioning, but she grabbed it and stuck it beneath her head. “I’m ready. Let’s go before someone sees.”

The drive was slow at first. Stoplights, evening traffic. I’d grabbed a ball cap from my duffel and kept it pulled low over my eyes, willing myself to relax each time an emergency vehicle roared past. While I was still in range, I listened to the radio I’d stolen from that dirty cop. Any second, police would be setting up a massive roadblock and checkpoint around the botanic gardens. We had probably slipped past just in time. And some of Stillwater’s people had as well. Those still breathing, anyway.

The voice of a Stillwater lieutenant shouted in my ear. “Fucking find her,” the man roared.

My hackles rose, knowing he was close by. He was in another car on one of these streets. He wanted to take Charlie, take her fromme, and that made me even hungrier to track the guy down and squeeze the life out of him.

The attack tonight had been elaborate, especially considering how little time had passed since Stillwater had issued the bounty. First, getting those corrupt cops in place as security. Then the so-called donor with the white goatee, who’d pulled the gun on Charlie and Agent Torres. I expected that he was a plant. Within a few days, the real donor would likely turn up dead in his palatial home, killed and replaced by a Stillwater operative to get close to Charlie tonight.

But what about the FBI? Could they have possibly been inon it, too? Hard to believe, given the bravery Agent Torres had shown when defending Charlie. And Charlie’s longstanding friendship with Brynn. I hadn’t spent any time with Agent Rainey, but Charlie had trusted him.

For months, Stillwater had been quiet. This was the exact opposite. Stillwater’s leaders had not ordered their lieutenants to be stealthy and careful. No, they’d made this messy, and they were actingfast. Shock and awe. They’d been sending a message. Proving their power.

It was a small consolation to realize that they’d intended to kidnap Charlie rather than immediately kill her. Getting their hands on Charlie was worth all this expense, this exposure. Butwhy? If that lieutenant had succeeded in taking her, what would he have been doing to her right now?

My fists strangled the steering wheel, wishing it was the man’s neck. I had no clue what his face looked like, but I wanted it bloody.

So much for emotional distance.

Plus, I had other issues on my mind. Like the fact that Agent Brynn Somerton knew my name. So did Jessica, the head of the charity. There hadn’t been time to set up a credible fake identity for the donation to get me access to the event. So the FBI and police would figure out that Charlie was with me. I also had to assume that everything the FBI or police knew, Stillwater could find out.

I pointed the car west. I had to get off the streets and avoid surveillance as much as possible.

Almost half an hour later, I pulled onto a quiet street in the foothills. The night sky was cloudy. Switching off my headlights, I followed a curving road and turned onto a dirt drive.

You’d never know this property in Golden was mere minutes from the freeway and suburban big-box stores.

My buddy and his sisters owned this place. It wassheltered by tall trees on three sides, a creek on another. They offered horseback riding and lessons and competed in events around the region.

In my darkened vehicle, I drove quietly past a ranch-style house. The windows were lit up, and images from a TV flashed. They were watching the news. Which might be a bad thing, depending on how much press the incident at the botanic gardens was getting. Probably a lot.

“We’re here,” I said. Charlie would be able to hear me in the trunk. “I’m going to make contact. You need to stay put. I’d rather he doesn’t know about you until I can explain.”

On my right stood a large barn, bordered by smaller outbuildings for horses. I parked in the shadow of the barn. No sounds but the ticking of my engine when I switched the power off.

“But this is a friend?” Charlie asked inside the trunk. “Someone we can trust?”

“He is. I spoke to him yesterday. I’m just not sure how friendly he’ll be feeling once he knows our current status.”

Hodge was a solid guy, and I knew he’d help us. But this was one of thoseask for forgiveness, not permissionsituations. He hadn’t known he was part of my escape plan.

I opened the driver’s side door. The cool breeze felt good against my skin. The earthy scent of horses and grass, mingling with car exhaust, filled my nose.

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