Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) Page 6

  I could tell he was fighting a grin. When he did that, it was almost easy to ignore his more annoying qualities. “You’re a little scary, you know that?”

  I pulled open the drawer and slid the metal lid open, fighting a grin of my own. The contents inside rattled around, rolling from one end of the box to the other. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  There were a bunch of papers—fake IDs, credit cards—mostly on-the-go stuff, some cash, and a few pieces of jewelry. One in particular caught my eye. “Huh…” I said, picking up a dainty gold ring with the year 1994 etched into the band, and a small bluish stone. I rolled it around in my palm, trying to remember where I’d seen it before.

  “Looks like a class ring?”

  “I think that’s what it is—but something about it feels familiar.”

  Shaun took the ring from me and held it up to the light to get a better look. “It was your mother’s? Wouldn’t that make it familiar?”

  I snatched the ring back and stuffed it into my pocket to worry about later. We were on a tight schedule here. Shifting the rest of the box’s contents aside, I grabbed the wad of cash at the bottom.

  “Shit,” Shaun breathed, leaning close. “Where did all that come from?”

  “Mom liked to keep stuff tucked away for a rainy day.” I waved the cash, then pulled the rubber band off and took a closer look, gasping. In my hand was a stack of hundreds—not twenties. “But, um, this is a little more than I’m used to…”

  “There’s gotta be at least several grand there…”

  “Mom was a hoarder,” I lied. “Any money she made from whatever work she could find got squirreled away. We lived pretty thin.”

  Well, only half a lie. We had lived on fumes, but that was because work was few and far between. Mom never wanted to settle in one place long enough to get a real job. We lived off whatever she managed to con and steal. One year, for my birthday, she lifted an old man’s credit card to give me a day at Six Flags. I never said a word, but I had a hard time really enjoying it knowing that the whole trip had been stolen from someone else. We saw the man an hour later, still out by the gate, searching for his card so he could get his three screaming grandkids inside the park.

  I stuffed half of the cash back into the box. Next, I pocketed what was left, putting some in the right front pocket and some in the left. Mom’s rule was never keep it all in one place. Just in case. “We should see if we can find a hardware store. Maybe get these cuffs off.”

  “Aww,” he said, flashing me a smile that made my stomach flutter just a little. “What’s the matter? Being so close to me make you nervous?”

  I returned the smile and tugged him toward the door. “More like sick.”

  Chapter Seven

  By early afternoon, the allure of small towns wore off big-time. “How can there be no hardware store in this damned town?”

  Shaun shrugged but didn’t seem overly concerned. We were standing in front of a small strip mall, a few blocks over from the post office. He pointed to a pay phone a few feet away. “No idea, but there’s a phone. Lemme try Pat again.”

  Without waiting for me to follow, he started forward and nearly ripped my arm from its socket. If we didn’t get these cuffs off soon, one of us was going to lose a limb. And possibly other appendages we’d need down the line. And by one of us, I was thinking Shaun…

  I angled myself closer as he dialed, determined to hear both sides of the conversation. He smelled like the jacket. Peppermint and leather. It was just a little distracting, and I found myself leaning closer than I needed to.

  It rang five times before someone picked up.

  “Pat?” Shaun asked. The relief in his voice was unmistakable and gave me a small smidgeon of hope. He had been worried. And if he was worried, then a small part of him believed me.

  “Shaun?” Pat growled. In the background a horn blared. “Where the hell are you?”

  “We were ambushed. Needed to bail.”

  “I can see that,” Pat responded drily. “Heard about it, too. You made one hell of a scene getting out. When I said stay inconspicuous, jumping from the third floor into the hotel swimming pool isn’t what I meant.”

  Shaun’s jaw tensed. “We didn’t necessarily jump… Things got hot, Pat. Those guys didn’t drop in for a round of fantasy football. They were there for blood.”

  Patrick sighed. “Are you all right? Is the kid still with you?”

  “I’m fine. It was tight, though. Whoever they are, these guys mean business.” He adjusted the phone, trying to lean away from me. “And yeah. I’ve got her. How did the meeting go? Did you find out anything about these people?”

  I ignored his subtle attempt at privacy and leaned close again. This involved me—more than it involved him. I’d be damned if I was getting shut out.

  “Jaffe says they weren’t his.”

  Shaun’s eyes met mine. For a second, he said nothing. Then, with a sigh, asked, “And you believe him?”

  “What reason would he have to lie? He hired me to bring her in safely. I’ll admit some things have come to light that make me believe this case isn’t as simple as I originally thought, though.”

  “Not as simple? What did you find out? And did this Jaffe guy say why?”

  On the other end of the line, Patrick hesitated. “Why, what?”

  “What he wants with Kayla?”

  “Kayla?” Patrick groaned. “Oh, man. What did I tell you about using first names? I leave you alone with her for a few hours and she gets under your skin?”

  “What? No!” Shaun snapped defensively. He turned to me, cheeks flushed, then quickly looked away. “I’ve almost had my ass handed to me twice now. Once at the cabin, then again at the hotel. We’re out to make a buck, but we’re not killers, Pat. I wanna make sure this guy is on the up. If not, we can flip her over to the cops. Money won’t be as good, but I checked when you left the hotel earlier. There is a reward.”

  I clenched my fists and bit down on the inside of my tongue to keep from screaming. What a bastard! It was all about the money, right? Always the damned money. Bringing my sneaker up, I kicked him hard in the shin. To his credit, he cringed but didn’t make a sound.

  Another horn, and the sound of squealing brakes. “Tell me exactly where you are so I can come get you.”

  Shaun scanned the area, then adjusted the phone. “We’re—”

  I kicked him again. “Don’t give him this location! Idiot…”

  “Stop doing that!” he said, snapping the chain. My left arm jerked sideways. “And why the hell not?”

  “You pick a neutral location. This way you can arrive and scope things out first. Be sure it’s safe.” I snorted. “God. You’re such an amateur.”

  “Are you insane? I told you, Pat is safe.”

  “Pick another place,” I insisted, scanning the area. It was going on mid-afternoon on a weekday, but there were a few people on the street. One was a police officer writing a ticket for a double-parked minivan across the street. I inclined my head in the officer’s direction. “Or I’m going to start screaming my head off.”

  He switched the phone to his other shoulder, covering the receiver, and followed my gaze. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Giving him my sweetest smile, I said, “Officer, please help me. This sicko is kidnapping me. See? He’s got me chained, and he said he’s going to lock me away in his basement.” I let my voice rise a bit. “He’s going to…do stuff to me.”

  His eyes got impossibly wide, gaze alternating between the officer and me. “You’re a twisted chick, you know that?”

  “Shaun?” Patrick snapped. “Tell me where you are!”

  “I’m not taking any chances,” I whispered. “Pick another location.”

  “Fine,” he hissed. Into the phone, he said, “I don’t wanna stay in one place too long. We’ll meet up with you somewhere. We passed a mall on the way into town. Oak Ridge. It’s in a town called Mayburn. About thirty minutes from where we were. We can hook
up on the lower deck of the parking garage. By the gate?”

  Another horn blared. Patrick shouted something about someone’s mother, then sighed. “You gonna have any trouble getting her there?”

  Shaun glanced down at our joined wrists. “Yeah… That won’t be an issue. You’ll need to bring the spare shackle key, too.”

  Patrick didn’t ask questions. Something on the other end of the line rattled—paper—and he said, “Done. Thirty minutes?”

  “Make it forty-five,” I whispered, poking him in the arm. God. Did he know anything?

  He rolled his eyes again, but nodded. “We’re not that close. Make it forty-five, okay?”

  “Fine. See you then.” There was a short pause. “And Shaun?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  The line went dead.

  …

  Two buses and a cab ride later, we were standing across the street from the Oak Ridge Mall parking garage. It had been thirty-five minutes since Shaun called Patrick, and so far, there didn’t appear to be any sign of trouble. Still, I wasn’t ready to admit being wrong just yet. I had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, and Mom always said go with your gut. It might not have been one of her rules, but it was solid advice that had gotten me out of more than a few tight spots. Patrick had been the bad guy for as far back as I could remember. That wasn’t going to change just because Shaun said so.

  “See?” he said, nudging me with his elbow. He gestured toward the parking garage with a smug expression. “I told you. It’s fine. There’s no one waiting to jump out at us. I don’t know what you were expecting, but as you can see, we’re safe. Can we go over there now?”

  I wanted to argue, but couldn’t. One step at a time. I needed the cuffs off, and Patrick was bringing the spare key. As soon as my hands were free, I could work on getting away. Patrick wasn’t operating for the police, which meant he didn’t have a warrant. That meant no paperwork to prove what he was doing with me. A young girl and two men. Some creative lies and a lot of screaming should buy me enough time and confusion to bolt. The whole “stranger danger” thing worked for girls of all ages.

  Each step closer to the garage made my pulse pound a little faster. Just because I couldn’t see trouble didn’t mean there wasn’t any. I’d learned that ten times over the hard way.

  Shaun, sensing my unease, took my hand. He laced his fingers with mine and adjusted the black hoodie we’d “borrowed” from the apartment laundry room strategically over the cuffs. I tried to ignore the pleasant warmth that radiated from his hand. Our life hadn’t lent itself to staying too long in one place. That put a serious damper on my social life. It was kind of depressing that the first boy I got to hold hands with was trying to turn me in.

  I knew I should pull away, because taking comfort from the enemy was against the rules, but something stopped me. It was his voice. “Relax. I promised I’d make sure you were safe. I don’t go back on my word.”

  No. Not so much his voice, but the words. So reassuring. So genuine.

  I believed him—or at least, I wanted to. Like, really wanted to. Since Mom died, I’d been on my own, skipping from place to place. It’d been a scary series of never-ending bounces from here to there just for some small fraction of safety. Or the illusion of safety. Having to sleep with one eye open got tiring, and more than that, impossible. Live like that for too long—always moving, always running—and you were bound to slip up. In my case, I had a feeling that would equal a long dirt nap in an unmarked grave.

  He’d asked how I managed on my own for so long, and the truth was, not well. There were so many close calls that Mom was probably rolling in her grave—wherever that might be. I hadn’t been able to stick around long enough to find out.

  I’d found her on the floor of the cabin. Bleeding and nearly gone. She’d taken my hand, squeezed, and given me permission to break one of her golden rules:

  Never return to the scene of a crime.

  “When you’re sure the coast is clear, come back. I left something for you—there are things you need to know… I left something…”

  “What is it? Tell me!”

  She coughed, and a small trickle of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth. “No—no time. They’ll be back…”

  “They?” I panicked. “They, who?”

  “There’s something— Something I need you to do for me. Back when—safe. For now, though… Run. Don’t let them find you, baby girl. Don’t trust anyone.”

  It had been seven kinds of agony leaving her there like that. Cold and alone like some discarded and unwanted thing. Mom had been my entire world. Turning away from her that day had been the hardest move I’d ever made. And staying away for so long when I knew she’d left something for me? It’d taken every ounce of self-control not to come running back the very next day.

  I hadn’t seen the signs before it all went down, but she’d known danger was at the door. It was the only reason we would have gone to the cabin in the first place. It was our haven. That last resort when things got too hot.

  She’d said she left something for me. That there was something she needed me to do. It was all I’d thought about since that night. Her killer. I’d always been sure that’s what I’d find. A clue to the truth she wanted exposed. Over time, though, it became more than that. It became about survival.

  She’d told me not to trust anyone, but right now I didn’t have much of a choice. I was tired and broken, and Shaun was all I had.

  We reached the edge of the parking garage and he froze.

  Acid bubbled in the pit of my stomach, and a chill that had nothing to do with the harsh October wind sent tingles up and down my spine. The sun had ducked behind the clouds, so it was harder to see, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “What?”

  Hand snaking out lightning-fast, he yanked the scrunchie from my hair. “Hide your face and turn sideways.”

  I did as I was told, shaking out my hair and angling my body away from the garage. Something spooked him, and even though I couldn’t see what it was, the tone of his voice put me on alert. “What did you see?”

  He shifted, wrapping his free hand around my waist to pull me close. To anyone unknowing, we would just be two lovers out for a stroll. “Look over by the main gate. The guy standing there.”

  Casually, I tilted my head to the side and peeked through the curtain of my hair. A tall man with a nub of a ponytail stood leaning against the gate. Cigarette in his mouth and cell phone at his ear, he glanced our way with a slight nod and went back to his conversation.

  “Um, what about him?”

  “He looks—suspicious.”

  I blinked. My paranoia must have been contagious. I stepped forward, squinting against the fading light. The man hadn’t given us so much as a second glance. “Seriously?”

  Shaun’s grip on my waist tightened, and with a sudden outbreak of goose bumps, it occurred to me at that very inappropriate moment that this was as close to a guy as I’d ever been.

  “Just wait,” he whispered, breath warm against my neck. I fought back a shiver.

  At the far corner of the lot, a couple came around the bend. Lost in conversation, they glanced our way with a quick smile, then settled on a bench directly across the street from us. Another chill raced up my spine and down my arms, making the tiny hairs stand at attention. It was too cold out. Why would anyone sit on a bench to chat?

  No. Shaun was freaking over nothing and I was just reacting to him.

  That’s what I kept telling myself. Over and over again.

  I glanced across the lot. An older man slid from a green car parked sideways in the middle row. He came around the front, leaving the driver’s side door open, and lounged against the hood. In the fading light, I saw him wink as he folded his arms and flashed us a predatory smile.

  “Oh, shit,” I whispered.

  The guy by the gate—the one with the cell phone—turned and started over. “Hey. You guys wouldn’t happen to know where
East Street is?”

  Together, we took a single step back. The couple on the bench stood and started toward us, as did the smiling man by the green car. “Told ya,” Shaun hissed, gripping my hand tighter.

  Mom never believed in violence as a remedy for tense situations, so I had zero fighting skills. I’d always relied on my brains to eke me out of tight spots. Had I been alone, it would have been easier to get away. There was a small gap in the fence about three yards from where we were. I could have made a mad dash and slipped through, but with Shaun and me shackled together, the chances of us both getting through before one of them reached us was impossible.

  Shaun did a one-eighty, dragging me to the left, and we saw another man approaching from behind. “When I tell you, we’re going to run at him.” He jingled the cuffs beneath the hoodie. “Right before we get to him, lift your hand and pull the chain tight. Got it?”

  I could only nod. I had a pretty good idea what he was planning, and it was awesome in theory—if not brilliant—but it was one of those things you saw on television. The kind of thing that didn’t actually work in real life without lots of practice and props.

  “Shaun, right?” the man said with an obviously fake smile. He was wearing chinos and dark sunglasses, and for some reason, the fact that I couldn’t see his eyes creeped me out. “You’re working with Patrick.”

  “Who’re you?”

  The man stuffed both hands into his pants pocket. He was trying to put Shaun at ease by seeming like less of a threat. But he was tense. His arms were too rigid and his shoulders taut. He was prepared to ambush us if we tried to bolt. Body language spoke louder than words if you knew what to look for—and Mom made sure I did. “An interested party.”

  I didn’t risk turning around, but I felt the others watching. They’d come up behind and effectively boxed us in.

  Shaun kept his tone casual. “Interested in what?”

  Moving slowly, he withdrew his right hand and held it up for us to see. In it was a small gold shield. “We’re here to take her into custody.”