Liam curses and throws the covers off of our naked bodies, wrapping an arm around my neck and pulling me to him, his mouth finding my ear while the alarm remains brutally loud. “Get dressed, and remember, I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you and I’ve got us.” He lets go of me and he’s out of the bed, buck naked and headed for the hallway.
He’s got us. Brave and heroic words that he believes, but so did my brother in his own way. So did my father. My heart lodged in my throat, I scramble off the bed, and my adrenaline is pumping but I am remarkably calm. I will not crumble. I will not be defeated. And I will not jump out the window alone again.
I dart for the closet and tug on gray sweats and a t-shirt, and it’s impossible to escape the memory of doing the exact same thing six years ago. I’m just shoving my feet into tennis shoes when Liam appears in the closet doorway, already dressed in the same black sweatsuit he’d worn on Saturday.
“I smell the smoke but I see no fire.” He has to practically shout to be heard over the alarm. “I called 911 and Tellar. It’s an old house. It could be electrical.”
I all but flinch at exactly what had been said about my old family home. He exits the closet and I follow, ready to get out of here. I know exactly how fast flames appear and consume a home. Liam pauses by the bed and grabs my purse, sliding the strap cross body over my head and I know it’s for the gun. He doesn’t believe this is electrical or a coincidence any more than I do. The picture is pretty clear. Us hunkering down inside had forced someone to act, perhaps trying to kill us where we sleep, or since we see no flames as of yet, drive us out into the open.
Holding onto my hand, he leads the way out into the hallway, and my stomach forms knots as we start down the stairs. I think of Alex’s dagger collection we’re leaving behind. Liam’s piece of his past.
My teeth chatter with the intensity of the screams of the alarms and a stunning realization washes over me. The alarms in my Texas home had not gone off. Not one, and we’d had several.
“Liam!”
Tellar’s shout comes a moment before he appears on the bottom level staircase, and we follow him back down. “There’s smoke on the lower right exterior of the house but no flames,” he reports over his shoulder, pausing to face us as we hit the garage, and I shiver at the cold blast of November winter wind gushing in through the open doors as he adds, “The gates to the house are open, too, for the emergency crews, and Derek has security clearing the building next door to be safe.”
“Good. I don’t want this exploding on us and leaping over there.” Liam curses and runs a hand over the dark dusting of stubble on his jaw. “I have to go back for the travel documents.”
Anxiety shoots through me. “What? No. That’s insanity. You can’t go back inside the house. You can’t.” He cups my face. “I’m getting you out of here before I can’t.” He eyes Tellar, his jaw set in steel like his tone. “Do not let her out of your sight.” He lifts me by the arms and pretty much hands me to Tellar.
“No, Liam.” I jerk forward and Tellar shackles my waist. “No. Don’t do this, Liam! Don’t go in the house again!” But he’s already running back toward the door.
“What’s happening? Where’s Liam?”
At the sound of Derek’s voice, I grab for the distraction and kick Tellar. He grunts. “Damn it. Stop it, Amy.”
“He’s in the house, Derek,” I explain, squirming against Tellar, trying to see Derek and make my case to him. “Do you hear me? He’s in the house. You’re not on his payroll. You don’t have to listen to Liam and let him get himself killed.”
“That’s low, Amy,” Tellar snaps and then says to Derek, “Liam’s fine. He went back in to grab some paperwork.”
“He’s not fine,” I insist, twisting in his arms. Finally I manage to free myself enough to face him. “Let me go, Tellar.”
“There are no flames, Amy. He’s fine and I’m not letting you run back into the house.”
“If there are no flames and he’s fine, why is that a problem?” I challenge.
A fire truck roars loudly into the driveway behind us and pain splinters through my head. I lean into Tellar, pressing my face into his shirt and for a moment, I’m back on the roof of my old house, reaching for that tree limb and being blasted off the edge.
Tellar starts dragging me out of the garage, snapping me back to the present. I’d assumed the blast at my house had been from the fire, but...I dig in my heels and yank hard on Tellar’s arm. “I think there was a bomb in my house in Texas. What if there’s one now? Get him out of the house. Get Liam out now!”
“Fuck,” Tellar growls and now I’m shoved at Derek. “Get her away from the house.”
Tellar runs toward the building and that’s when the world spins and all my vows to stay calm evaporate, leaving me with nothing but panic. My mother’s screams play in my head, shredding parts of my mind and soul with every repetition. I can hear Chad yelling for me to jump. He never thought he’d make it. I should have helped him. I should have stayed and now Liam is going to die. Everyone I love dies. And God, what if Tellar dies now, too?
I start pushing and shoving against Derek, fighting to get to Liam and Tellar. I screwed up. I did this all wrong. A sob rips from my throat, and sounds are coming from my throat I don’t recognize as being from me but they are.
Derek curses. “Woman, you’re going to hurt yourself and I can’t let that happen.” He bends at the waist and hikes me over his shoulder. I yelp with the insanity of the moment, and he starts to run.
Blood rushes to my face, tears pouring over my forehead and I suck in so much cold air that I start to cough and choke. Firemen are everywhere. People are everywhere. I can’t breathe or think until finally, Derek slides me to my feet and when I think I’ll yell at him, the minute I see the concern in his eyes, I sob and melt against him. “I can’t lose him. I can’t.”
He holds me to him, hugging me. “You’re not going to lose him. I promise.”
I push back and glare at him. “Like my brother promised he was coming out of the house? Like that, Derek?”
“Amy--”
“Because he didn’t come out.” My voice quakes with anger and heartache. “He. Didn’t. Come. Out. None of them came out.”
Suddenly I’m pulled around and Liam wraps me in his strong arms. Relief washes over me. I can finally breathe again. “Oh, thank God.”
The warmth of his palms frames my face. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“It’s not okay. It’s not. I told you to stop saying that. Just because you say it does not make it so, Liam. You think it does. You think you can will it, whatever “it” is, at the moment to happen, and make it so. You think--” He scoops me up and starts walking. “Stop picking me up. Stop acting macho before it gets you killed.”
“She’s pregnant,” he tells a fireman, ignoring me. “I need her checked out.”
“I don’t need--” I begin.
“You do,” Liam insists, rotating around so that I can see the EMS truck and a man in uniform. “She needs to be checked, but give us a minute, will you?”
The man moves aside and Liam climbs into the truck, setting me on the bed and joining me. I slide my hand to his leg. “You shouldn’t have gone back in. You shouldn’t--”
He leans in and kisses me, the touch of his mouth on mine sending a wave of warmth through me and I cup his face, holding his cheeks. “Don’t do that to me again,” I whisper on a breath. “It was like having my heart ripped from my chest.”
“I wouldn’t scare you or hurt you on purpose.” He curls my hand in his. “Talk to me about the bomb.”
“I remember being on the roof of my house. I was trying to get to the tree to jump and the house exploded.”
“Fire can do that, baby.”
“But the alarms in the house didn’t go off. Not one of them, Liam.”
His expression darkens. “Listen to me, Amy. They brought in bomb-sniffing dogs, but that comes with questions and complications. Don’t talk about this
to anyone. Tell them you were panicked and hysterical.”
“I don’t believe this was coincidence, so if there wasn’t a bomb or a fire, why do this?”
“Good question, and exactly why we need out of here and the country before we find out.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Stone.” Liam twists around to glance at the police officer standing at the end of the EMS vehicle, who says, “Can I ask you both some questions?”
“Me,” Liam replies. “Yes. Not her. She’s pregnant. I don’t want her stressed.” Liam doesn’t give the officer a chance to object, turning back to me. “I’ll be right outside. I’m sending the EMS guy in to check you out.” He leans in as he had in the house, pressing his cheek to mine. “We are out of here the instant we navigate the red tape and sooner if I get worried.”
He’s gone in an instant then and a forty-something EMS worker climbs inside with me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine now.” The uncertain look he gives me tells me he probably witnessed my meltdown. “Really. I’m fine.”
He squats in front of me. “Let’s get your stats to be sure.”
The rumble of Liam’s voice lifting, telling me he is near, and the fact that I really don’t want to answer questions, keeps my butt on the bed. “Yes, please.”
A few minutes later, he finishes up. “You’re all clear but I still think you should rest here until we can get you to the hospital to check out the baby.”
“The baby?”
“Is fine,” he says. “But it’s always good to be careful. Safety first.”
“Right,” I say of the words Liam had used before we’d gone to sleep and for some reason I think of the gun in my purse. “Safety first.”
A fireman appears at the end of the truck and motions to the man, who excuses himself and goes to speak with him. I strain my ears for Liam and can still hear him but it’s impossible to make out anything he’s saying. The EMS worker returns and squats beside me again. “Special delivery. You have someone worried about you who can’t get past security.” He hands me a folded note and adds, “From your brother, I’m told.”
My heart begins to thunder in my ears and everything seems to sway and tilt around me. Chad is alive? It can’t be but...I’m alive.
The EMS tech pats my leg. “I need to call in to my boss on the radio. If you want to get a message to your brother let me know.” He moves to the front of the vehicle and claims a seat.
I stare at the white piece of paper and my heart is in my throat. I’m afraid to open the note and have my fast expanding hope shattered, but I have to know. I flip it open and read the unfamiliar writing.
Amy,
I wish I could say this in person. This is Meg. I know you think I work at the Denver real estate office but I’m actually your sister-in-law. Chad didn’t die in the fire. He hid like he hid you. They found him right after he moved you to Denver. They took him. Now they want something from us or they’re going to kill him. They think you and I both know what that is. I hope you do because I don’t. We have to save Chad. I’m not sure what is up with Liam. I think he could be involved or after what they’re after. If he’s not and he gets in the middle of this, they’ll kill him like they do anyone who gets in their way. I’m in a cab across the street. I’m sure you know, but cellphones are traceable. Leave yours. Just walk out of the open gate and come to me. No one is expecting that. Hurry before you can’t. Chad’s life depends on it.
I hunch forward. Bile gathers in my throat, the acid burn of emotions that shift and change from second to second, almost too much to handle. Chad alive? Meg is his wife? Liam is involved? I expect to feel joy over Chad and heartache over Liam, but in my heart I believe nothing in this letter. This is a trap. The moment there was a threat to Liam, I was snagged.
Aware that Liam is just outside the vehicle and could return at any moment, I’m left with limited time to think through all the ways every next step I take could go wrong. I open my purse and dig for a pen, my gaze landing on the leather holster, and the weapon nestled in its depths, I say a silent thank you to Liam for the protection it offers. It also tells me he is protecting me. He is not a part of the hell I’m running from.
Shutting my purse, I decide to leave Liam the note from Meg so he knows exactly what is happening. I know Liam will come after me, and he needs a way to find me. If only I had a phone. I inhale and start to write.
Liam--
I don’t know if Chad is alive. I only know that there is a clear threat to your life in this note. I’m leaving the note so you see you are in danger. I know you will look for me but don’t get killed doing it. Losing you would destroy me.
I hesitate only a moment, reminding myself life is too short for regrets, and I add,
I love you,
Amy
I fold the note, write Liam’s name in big bold letters and with great regret, drop it on the mattress. Inching to the edge of the truck, a ball of pressure forms in my chest when I find Liam to my right with his back to me. Nothing would please me more than to run up and hug him and I vow that moment will be sooner, not later. I eye the two police officers who are talking to him, and consider cutting to my left and out of sight around the edge of the truck. But without a view of what awaits, I risk running into Tellar or Derek.
My gaze settles on some sort of mini fire truck with hoses directly ahead of me and I decided it’s my best coverage. Confirming Liam’s broad shoulders and wide stance offers adequate cover from the cops, I draw a breath and decide to just go for it. Calmly, careful not to bring attention to myself, I climb out of the truck and start walking. And I keep walking, moving past the mini truck and to the gate, then straight toward the exit where the gates remain open with nothing but orange traffic cones as a deterrent to those coming and going.
I’m on the street with not so much as a question asked of me, and I scan for the cab, finding it to the left of the gate. Glancing over my shoulder, some part of me hopes Liam will come charging after me, while another is relieved he is not. More of that regret burrows deep in my gut, but I know I have to do this. Darting across the street, I slip my hand in my purse, unsnap the case around the gun and slip it free. My hand is on the handle when I stop at the cab, and yank open the door, giving myself a split second to register that it’s really Meg inside.
“Amy.” She breathes out my name like it’s relief when it feels dangerous on her tongue, wrong.
“Hurry,” she urges. “Before you’re seen.”
I don’t move. I can’t seem to make myself get in the car.
She shoves a photo at me and I stare at it, then gasp at the image I haven’t been able to fully form in my mind of my brother’s face, staring back at me, his arm wrapped around Meg’s shoulder. He’s with her. I can’t breathe all over again.
“He’s...he’s alive.”
“Not for long if we don’t do something. Help me save him, Amy. Please. I beg of you. Help me save him.”
Chad is alive. Chad is alive! I get into the car and slam the door shut.
Chapter Fourteen
“Go!” Meg shouts at the driver and I cannot help but think of the moment at the Denver airport with Liam chasing after me. When I’d been running from the wrong thing and the wrong person.
The cab pulls away from the curb and Meg throws her arms around me. “Thank God you’re okay.”
Reluctantly I return the hug that seems meant more for family than virtual strangers, unable to fight my unease. Shifting away from her, I take the photo she holds, staring at the image, thankful for the city of passing lights that allows me to soak in the way Chad’s blue eyes are lit up with a smile and how his longish blond hair curls just a bit at his forehead and brows.
My gaze lifts to Meg’s, her pale blonde hair a shade not so unlike my brother’s, and I see no discomfort at my intense inspection, just more sympathy, though I’m not sure for what. Pain, maybe? Fear? Confusion? Do these things I feel so completely in this moment radiate off of me the way control and c
onfidence do with Liam?
Her hand covers mine where I’m holding the photo and I don’t miss the obvious symbolism of the choice. “I have more pictures of him. He’s alive, Amy,” she vows. “We have to keep him that way.”
My lips part and there is a burn at the back of my throat and in my belly. I’m not ready to believe yet and risk the heartache of loss all over again. “Tell me everything. I need to know everything.”
She glances at the driver and back at me. “Not until we’re alone. I don’t trust anyone. I just don’t.”
I sink down on the cushion and flatten the picture onto my chest. Don’t trust anyone. The same lesson my handler—my brother?—had given me quite effectively without any real conversations, but then, actions speak louder than words.
Meg sinks down next to me to me, close, too close I think. She laughs without humor. “Ironic, right?”
My brows dip. “What?”
“I just told you I don’t trust anyone and now I want you to trust me.”
Ironic. Yes. Very. “I just want Chad back.”
“Then we want the same things.”
No. If that were true, Liam would be here. “I have questions. Lots of questions.”
“As you should.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were before now?”
“Not now,” she cautions. “When we’re alone and safe. We need to focus on safety and the speed of our departure. A man like the one you just left behind will shut down this city to stop you if he can.”
I get her discretion, but I don’t like how she’s avoided his name. “What do you mean, a man like him?”
“Rich and obsessed. It’s a dangerous combination.”
My defenses prickle. “He’s far more than you give him credit for.”
“Oh, I give him plenty of credit, which is exactly why I told our driver to take us to the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge. We need out of this city before he can stop us.”