Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) Page 7

  “You’re a cop?” I asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief. He was no more a cop than I was a ballet dancer.

  He nodded to the badge. “FBI. And you’re wanted for questioning in the murder of Melissa Morgan.”

  “I didn’t kill my mother—but I think you know that already…”

  “We won’t know anything until you’ve been questioned.”

  “What is the FBI doing sniffing around a case like this?” Shaun asked. “It’s just one murder.”

  “They’re not FBI,” I said, trying to tug him back. “The badge is fake.”

  “I assure you it’s real,” the man said to Shaun. “You’ve got quite a colorful record. Assault and battery, identity theft, grand theft auto—and that’s just the list prior to hooking up with Patrick Tanner. Hand over the girl and we can make it all go away.”

  I glanced sideways at Shaun. His jaw was tight and he was glaring at the man. Blazing anger rolled through me. A feeling so intense that all I wanted in that moment was to strike him. His righteous speeches about bad people belonging behind bars, yet he was just as much a criminal as Mom was!

  “It’s a onetime deal,” the man said, taking a step closer. I started to back away.

  Shaun didn’t. “I have no official record.”

  The man smiled. It was an eerie grin that stretched all the way to his glasses. “Not yet—but that would be simple to remedy.”

  Shaun laughed. “So I hand her over or you make trouble for me. That’s the deal?”

  “A more than generous offer, considering that you’re currently obstructing justice.”

  Mom and I had forged a lot of things—and if we couldn’t do it ourselves, then we knew someone who could. I could spot any number of fakes. Cash, passports, ID’s—and most badges.

  “Except that they’re not justice.” I turned to Shaun. I couldn’t tell which way he was leaning, and I didn’t want to take a chance. “See how the eagle’s wings extend past those two top points? On a real badge, they stop right at them. Plus, the color is slightly off. It’s too bronzy. It’s a good fake—but still, a fake.”

  Shaun seemed to consider both sides for a moment. He hadn’t made a move to break away and I was getting nervous. These guys were definitely not cops. If they somehow managed to get the cuffs off and Shaun walked away, they’d probably find my corpse in an oil drum about ten years from now.

  I was about to continue my argument, possibly pointing out that the FBI really wouldn’t send five agents to bring in one girl, especially one without any kind of record, but Shaun’s hand tightened around mine. His fingers twitched once. Then twice. And just as I took a deep breath, he yelled, “Now!”

  He sprinted forward and there was no choice but to follow. It happened so fast. We came within a foot of the man, and Shaun jerked his hand high. I pulled away, making sure the shackle chain was taut, and we essentially bowled over the man, catching him under the neck and sending him backward to the pavement with a horrific gurgling sound.

  Shaun recaptured my hand and we bolted from the lot. I could hear the others yelling, their footsteps echoing against the wet pavement as they raced toward us.

  Getting closer and closer.

  Chapter Eight

  “We need to lose them,” Shaun yelled as we darted across the street. The driver of a white Chevy Suburban slammed his brakes and leaned on the horn when we ran out in front of him. The squeal the truck’s tires made as they skidded across the blacktop made my stomach turn. But not as much as the voices behind us.

  Voices that were getting closer.

  “They’re catching up,” I huffed, surveying the area. The mall was just off the highway and other than a large box factory that looked like it’d been deserted for a while, the only other thing in sight was a junkyard. The mall would afford us more cover, and more of an opportunity to get lost in the crowd, but getting there would require backtracking, and it wasn’t worth the risk. The junkyard was dead ahead. Right now, it would have to do. “In there! We can try to lose them, then double back.”

  We pushed through the large gap in the chain-link fence, and when I dared a look back, I saw the couple just getting to the other side of the road. For a moment a wave of hope washed over me. They were frantically looking up and down the road, not sure where we’d disappeared to. But chain man—the one who’d flashed his badge—came up behind them and pointed in our general direction without hesitation. They all turned and our eyes met.

  “Move-move-move!” I pushed Shaun into motion as they tried to cross the busy street.

  We raced down the main drag and around a pile of old big-rig tires. In the distance, I heard the faint rattle of the fence. They’d made it across.

  “Over there,” I said, skidding to a stop. There was pile of crushed cars to our right, and several rows of uncrushed ones on the left. “Maybe we can hide in one of those.”

  “No way,” Shaun said, tugging me away. “That’s the first place they’ll look. It’s the obvious choice.”

  Shit. He made a good point. “Well, there’re too many of them. Five, I think, unless there were more skulking in the shadows.” I ticked them off on my right hand. “The couple, ponytail, chain guy, and smiling guy. I don’t like the odds of outrunning them.”

  “Me, either.” He scanned the area, and I did the same. Everything was stacked in precarious-looking piles that offered little in the way of safe harbor. “I propose we fight.”

  “Fight?” I almost choked. There were plenty of things scattered in the immediate area to be used as makeshift weaponry, but he seemed to be forgetting one integral problem. “Are you nuts? Have you forgotten our”—I jingled the shackle chains—“situation?”

  “I don’t mean fight, fight. I mean, we need to take them out. One by one.” He tugged me around the tire pile, and we crouched low.

  A moment later, chain guy, smiling guy, and ponytail came into view. They walked cautiously through the yard, spread several feet apart as they canvassed all the major points. Anyplace that would have made for an obvious hiding spot. When they stopped a few feet from where we were hidden behind the large pile of tires, my heart started to pound.

  “Jack and Maria went around back. They’re going to work their way forward,” chain guy said. He turned to ponytail. “You and Josh take the rest of the main drag. Fan out to the west when you’re done. I’ll take the east side. We’ll all meet back at the main gate—with the girl. Remember, he wants her alive, if at all possible.”

  Alive if at all possible.

  “What about the other one?” the one he’d called Josh asked.

  Chain guy narrowed his eyes, fury dripping from every word. He brought his hand to his neck and rubbed the spot where we’d caught him with the chain. “Kill him.”

  They split up. We watched them go before extracting ourselves as quietly as possible from the pile. “Okay. So who should we hit first?” I whispered.

  Shaun nodded in the direction ponytail and Josh had gone, and we started to follow.

  They moved fast through the yard and weren’t very quiet. Even though it was almost dark, they were easy to follow because they seemed to only be searching halfheartedly. Every once in a while they’d stop so Josh could light up a cigarette, take a few puffs, then toss it to the ground. Each time he did this, Shaun seemed to get angrier and angrier. If his hand tightened around mine much more, I was going to lose a finger.

  “This is crap,” ponytail said finally. “My vote is to walk the rest of the lot, then head to the gate. Screw it. We get paid either way.”

  Josh took a long drag from his cigarette, then puffed out several rings of smoke. “Not a chance. There’s a ten grand bonus to the ones who actually find the kid. I’m not passing that up because you’re a lazy fucker.”

  They started walking again. We’d taken shelter behind a teetering pile of old furniture. There was a couch with two matching armchairs, several old refrigerators, and at least three dozen assorted dining room chairs all in different
states of decay. Shaun bent down, searching the ground. A moment later he stood, holding a disgusting, mud-covered baseball. With a wink, he threw it farther down the lane. It smashed into the windshield of a rusted black van, causing both men to jump like little girls.

  “What the hell was that?” ponytail yelped.

  Josh only shrugged and lit another cigarette. “If you’re so curious, go check it out.”

  With the flip of his middle finger, ponytail stalked off toward the row of cars ahead. “I’m not sharing that ten grand with you, man.”

  “We need to move fast,” Shaun said. Before I knew what he was doing—much less had time to protest—he swooped down and grabbed a broken table leg from the ground by his feet and charged around the corner of the pile with me tripping awkwardly behind.

  “What the fu—”

  Shaun didn’t waste time. He swung his wooden weapon with such force that it made a swishing sound as it sliced through the air. It connected with the side of ponytail’s face, the awful cracking sound echoing in my ears. There was a splatter of red, tiny droplets of blood flicking out in all directions, and the cigarette flew from his mouth as he tilted sideways. He hit the ground hard—out cold.

  Shaun stood over him. Just staring. There was such hatred in his eyes. So much fury that I held my breath, sure he would kick the man even though he was obviously down for the count. But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped to the right and stomped down hard on the still-burning cigarette. Grinding it furiously into the ground, he glanced up the path in the direction Ponytail had gone. “Keep moving.”

  We started forward and I fought back a shiver. Shaun’s expression had changed. The serious set of his jaw and determined glint in his eyes was now fierce. Dark. He walked with an underlying anger that seemed to be the driving force behind each movement. It was weird, but I could almost see it radiating off him in waves.

  Ahead of us, Ponytail stepped onto the path from between the row of old cars. He hesitated when he saw us, looking from one end of the yard to the other like he wasn’t sure we were real. I hesitated, too—or at least, I tried.

  Shaun marched forward, the right corner of his lip lifting with a wicked grin. Ponytail never had a chance to move. Shaun lashed out, the wooden leg connecting first with his midsection, then again a moment later with his shoulder. Smiling guy wasn’t smiling any longer. He stumbled away, recovering, and made a swipe for us. I was tossed and pulled like a rag doll, and if it hadn’t been for Shaun yanking hard on the shackle chain, Ponytail would have grabbed me with ease.

  Ponytail, recognizing that Shaun was the real obstacle, lunged for him. He landed a solid blow to his gut, which Shaun returned with another to the other man’s midsection. He doubled over, wind knocked from his lungs, and Shaun finished him off. A knee to the balls and the man finally hit the ground. When he went down, Shaun kicked him again. In fact, he kept kicking him. Over and over.

  I had a suspicion that if I didn’t step in, Shaun would keep going. A darkness had taken hold of him. Whatever it was, it ignited a kind of rage that I’d never seen in a person before. I should have been scared—and I was, a little—but more than that, I was intrigued. What could fuel a person to be so angry?

  I grabbed his arm and pulled back. “Enough. Remember the others?”

  He turned to me and his eyes went wide. Breath coming in ragged pulls, it was like he’d forgotten I was here. “Kayla, I—”

  “No time!” I snapped and pointed to the right. Chain guy was running at us full speed, and not far behind him was the couple from the bench. Even with Shaun in his unstable, Hulk-like glory, I didn’t feel confident taking on three-to-one odds. And I’d been dead weight the entire time Shaun had dealt with ponytail and Josh. I’d only make things worse if he tried to take on three at once, and surely get us caught. Or worse, killed.

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the main gate. We ran like hell for the mall.

  Traffic was lighter now, and we made it across the street without having to stop. Thankfully we still had the hoodie hiding the chain, which Shaun readjusted as we skidded to a stop in front of the main entrance.

  Through the doors and past the coffee kiosk, we picked up the pace as we turned onto the main hall. The place wasn’t nearly as crowded as I’d hoped. “Now what?” I wheezed. A quick glance over my shoulder revealed the couple just rounding the corner. There was no sign of chain guy.

  “It’s gotta be close to dinnertime, right?” he said, not looking back. “If there’s a crowd, that’s where it will be.”

  I didn’t respond. I had my doubts, but hoped I was wrong. We made our way to the stairs. By the time we reached the top, the couple had started up. They were gaining on us.

  The food court wasn’t what I’d consider crowded, but there were people. Two groups of them. “Fuck,” Shaun cursed, starting to turn away.

  I grabbed his arm. “Wait.” On one side there were about six guys, all beefy and wearing motorcycle jackets. On the other, there were eight guys, slightly younger and kind of punky. “I have an idea. Follow my lead.”

  I took Shaun’s hand and led him down the middle, pausing for a moment before approaching the bikers. Stopping at the first table, I smiled sweetly. “Excuse me. Is one of you Big John?”

  The dark-haired one at the head of the table nodded. His eyes appraising, he grinned and leaned forward on his elbows. “What can I do for you, sweet thing?”

  I inclined my head toward the group of guys on the other side of the food court. The couple had reached the top, and in a twist I couldn’t possibly have hoped for, took a seat right beside the other group. “Those guys over there are talking some serious shit about you. They said they were going to be waiting outside. I just wanted to warn you. More of them, ya know? Seemed unfair.”

  Big John’s face turned an impressive shade of scarlet. He gave me a curt nod, then stood, slamming a meaty hand down on the table. The rest of his boys followed suit. I dragged Shaun around to the other side of their table, fighting a wicked grin, and settled in to watch the show.

  Big John and his crew didn’t disappoint.

  “Hey,” he bellowed, starting across the court. The other group of guys stood. “You got something to say?”

  They traded insults, going back and forth until it erupted into violence. In a whir of activity, several mall rent-a-cops came running, trying to tear the men apart, while the couple was shooed back and into the small crowd that had started to gather around the edge of the fray.

  “How’d you know the guy’s name?” Shaun asked, leaning close as we backed away slowly. With everyone’s eyes on the fight, we were free to melt into the crowd.

  I grinned. “Was right there on the front of his jacket.”

  “That’s kind of awesome.” He snickered, lips parting slightly as our eyes met. For an insane moment, I wondered what it would have been like if life were normal. If Shaun and I were friends instead of enemies—maybe more than friends—and this was just another day hanging out at the mall. Maybe he’d lean in and whisper a joke in my ear.

  Maybe he’d kiss me.

  Chapter Nine

  We hadn’t spoken about Shaun’s meltdown at the junkyard, but it was bothering him. I could tell. Truth was, it bothered me, too. I’d never seen anyone lose it like that before. Sure, it’d helped us get away, but it also made me wonder if there was anything I could do or say to make him snap like that and go apeshit on me.

  I decided to just let it go for now and brought up Patrick, instead. Unfortunately, that didn’t go over any better.

  “I don’t believe it. There’s another explanation.” He’d been shaking his head and denying the obvious for an hour now. I half expected him to go into some kind of shock. A pang of regret washed over me and I felt sorry for him. He had the kind of faith in Patrick that I had in Mom. Unshakable and never-ending.

  I took a huge bite of my burger and peeked around the side of the building. The coast still looked clear. We’d run from the mall and ke
pt going until we hit the bus station. Shaun refused to go too far, still convinced that Patrick was one of the good guys, so we got off a town over and hunkered down in the dark under a streetlamp behind a McDonald’s just off the highway. Yet as convinced as he kept insisting he was, I saw it in his eyes. Doubt.

  “And your explanation would be?”

  “They were real cops.” He let his head fall between his knees. A horn blared, followed by rushing wind as traffic moved along. “I just assaulted a federal officer.”

  And he said I was dramatic? “You did not. The badge was fake. And they were going to kill you. What kind of cop would be okay with that? Let’s say—for argument’s sake—that they were cops, how did they know to find us there?” I rolled my eyes. “They weren’t cops. They were Jaffe’s men.”

  Shaun opened his mouth—then closed it again. He couldn’t deny the obvious. Patrick had been the only one who knew where we were headed. The only explanation was that he’d told Jaffe—be it intentional or accidental.

  The light from the streetlamp cast half of Shaun’s face in shadow. There was an odd beauty about it. The contrast between light and dark. So much like the contrast I’d seen in his personality. Moments of great kindness competing with glimpses of rage. I found myself wanting to know more about him. His past and his struggles. The situation he’d run from. Rules, I reminded myself. That would go against the rules.

  He cocked his brow, unaware of the treasonous thoughts rampaging through my head. “Why would Jaffe send guys posing as FBI? That makes no sense.”

  I batted away a small moth that kept trying to land on my burger and pushed the remaining curiosity I had about Shaun from my mind. “Maybe to keep up the charade? You keep telling me that Patrick is a good guy—”

  “He is,” Shaun insisted, picking his head up. His eyes met mine with challenge and, at that moment, I envied Patrick. Shaun was fiercely loyal and unfailingly devoted. I’d had that kind of connection with Mom and it was gone now. Seeing it reflected in someone else only made the pain more prominent, reminding me of what I’d lost and leaving me hollow.