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It was broad daylight outside, and moving around was going to be difficult.
The rental car we’d driven here in sat outside on the street, and now I knew this was going to take longer than I’d previously thought, I needed to ditch it. The men I’d locked in the closet would most likely have called the police by now, but the marina was a three-hour drive away, and we could have gone in any direction from there. The chances of the police knowing to look for the vehicle in Atlanta were pretty slim. Besides, I might have had a gun and locked them in the supply closet, but I hadn’t hurt either of the men. If I had blood on my hands, the cops would probably put a little more effort into finding me, but as things stood, I thought they most likely had better things to do with their time.
Such as get Patrick Dorman back into custody.
I stooped to pick up the bag of clothes and other items we’d brought from my house on the island and slung it over my shoulder.
“Come on,” I told Jolie, grabbing her by the arm. “We’re getting out of here.”
Her blue eyes widened. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace your father won’t know to drop notes to.”
It was ironic that I’d wanted to lure him here, yet now I felt exposed and vulnerable by him knowing our location. I wanted to be the one in the position of power—the one in control—and feeling as though Patrick Dorman not only had the upper hand, but was also laughing at me, put me on edge.
I still didn’t trust Jolie’s reactions to any of this. She hadn’t shouted out to the boy to tell him she was being held hostage, or that I was dangerous, and she needed help. Most likely it was because she didn’t want to get the boy hurt, but I wondered if things had changed now her father was on the loose. Did she feel some responsibility about his freedom? I knew she shouldn’t—this whole fiasco was on my shoulders—but deep down she still blamed herself for him.
But what about me? Did she feel anything toward me at all, or had we broken for good the tentative bonds we’d made?
I kept my hold on her arm, pulling her in close to the side of my body. In my other hand I held the gun, wrapping the hand holding the weapon loosely around her waist so she would feel the hard metal pressing against her hip. If anyone was around, I would drop my hold on her arm, but keep the gun in position, so we simply looked like a couple walking together.
Tugging open the front door, we stepped onto the porch and back into the bright sunlight. I squinted in the glare, and Jolie did the same.
“Move quickly,” I urged her. “We don’t know who might be watching.”
We did know—that was the problem—and I didn’t like the idea of her father watching us from a distance, making his next plan.
“You’re driving,” I told her.
She hurried along beside me. “Where are we going?”
“I’m not sure yet. I just want to get away from here.”
Her lips thinned. “You brought me here so you could kill my father, and now you’re running away.”
“I’m not running away. I’m coming up with a plan. A new plan”
Patrick Dorman must want me to find him. Why else would he have sent the note to the house? If he’d wanted, he could have run and put as much distance as possible between himself and the prison, but instead he’d turned this into some kind of game. Had I pissed him off by trying to manipulate him, or was he pissed because I’d taken his daughter? I had the feeling it was the former. If this was about Jolie, he’d have done as I’d wanted and tried to rescue her from the house. Instead, he’d turned things around, making me come after him instead.
I hoped my contact who was following police radio would give me some idea whether Patrick Dorman had been sighted and if they were on his trail. He’d also be able to tell me if the police knew I was in this area and if they were also trying to track me down. I wished I’d used an alias when I’d booked both the car and the spot at the marina, but it hadn’t occurred to me that I’d end up in this situation. I’d thought Jolie’s father would come to the house, I’d kill him, and then I’d end up behind bars. When I was locked up, whatever transgressions I’d made during the journey wouldn’t matter. I’d go down for Dorman’s murder anyway.
Jolie opened the car and slid behind the wheel, though I kept hold of the keys for the moment. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to drive off, leaving me shooting at her on a residential street. I refused to get arrested before I took Patrick Dorman down. I wouldn’t allow this to have all been for nothing.
I climbed into the passenger’s side.
“Drive,” I told her, finally handing her the keys. We hadn’t seen anyone else on the street, even though it was morning now. Most people must have already gone to work or school. I frowned and thought again. What day was it? It might be Saturday, which would explain why the streets were quiet this early. Everyone was still in bed, enjoying sleeping in.
It felt like a lifetime ago since I’d had a full night’s sleep myself, and Jolie must be exhausted, too.
“Drive out of the city,” I told her. “We’re going to change the car, and then find a motel.”
She pulled the vehicle out onto the road. “Change the car? How? Aren’t the police going to be watching for your name to come up? You’ll need to show some ID if you’re going to rent another vehicle.”
“I won’t be renting one.”
“You’re going to steal one?” Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that what you’re planning? For God’s sake, Hayden, how deep in this are you going to go?”
I met her gaze. “I’m already as deep as I can get.”
“And what about me? What are you going to do about me?”
I pressed my lips together and tore my eyes from hers. “I haven’t decided that yet.”
I knew one thing for sure. I’d make certain that, whatever happened at the end of this, she’d be free from all blame. I wanted her to live and go on and be happy, but for the moment, I couldn’t risk her getting in the way of my plan.
Something else occurred to me, too. If I were to release her now, what would stop her father from being the one to pick her up? The last thing Jolie wanted was to see her father again, but it would be even worse if it happened and I wasn’t there.
“I know this probably isn’t the right time to mention it,” Jolie said as we drove across the city, “but I’m thirsty, and I’m still hungry, too.”
My mouth was bone dry, a headache gradually forming over the last few hours, though I wasn’t sure if it was the result of lack of fluid or stress.
“Yeah, me, too. We’re not going to dine out, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I wasn’t,” she said stubbornly.
I didn’t trust taking her into a store either. There would be too many people around, too much opportunity for her to make an escape. I liked her in the car, where I had control.
“What about a drive-thru?” I suggested. “Think you can handle a burger at this time in the morning?”
“I’m so hungry, I’d eat anything at this time in the morning.”
I craned my neck, looking out for neon signs. “Over there.”
She indicated and pulled the car into the lane and took the exit. I kept the gun pointed in her direction, but hidden from view. I didn’t want anyone reporting that they’d seen me holding a weapon.
A couple of cars were lined up at the drive-thru window, so she pulled up behind them, and we waited.
We reached the window, and Jolie rolled down the driver’s side. I leaned across her. “Two cheeseburgers, fries, and Cokes.”
A bored-looking teenage boy didn’t even crack a smile, but motioned at the menu. “Only breakfast menu before ten-thirty.”
I gritted my teeth and briefly wondered how the boy’s expression would change if I flashed the gun at him. “Fine, then we’ll have two coffees, two bottles of water, and two breakfast stacks with pancakes.”
The teen rang it up, and I shoved some money at him. “Next window for pick-up.” His monotone voice didn’t waver, and he didn’t make eye contact with either of us. Hell, I probably could have shoved the gun in the boy’s face and he wouldn’t have even noticed.
Jolie drove on, and we were handed the food in a brown paper bag by a young girl who smiled brightly, as though trying to make up for the lack of enthusiasm from her colleague. “Enjoy your meals,” she chirped.
“Thanks.” Jolie slid the window back up.
“You want to eat now?” I asked, my stomach rumbling loud enough that I was sure she must have heard. “Or wait until we find someplace to stay?”
Her stomach gurgled as well, and the scent of hot food filled the inside of the vehicle. We caught each other’s eye and nodded at the same time.
“Now,” we said in unison.
I pointed to an empty corner of the parking lot. “Pull over there.”
She did as I’d instructed, and we both took off our seatbelts. I got to work, dishing the food out between us. Jolie cracked open the bottle of water and chugged almost the whole thing down in one, and then started on the food.
I put the gun on my lap, the weight reassuring. I wanted so desperately to trust Jolie, but she’d proven to me time and time again that I couldn’t. I’d been asking too much to expect her to come over to my side, especially after everything I’d done to her, yet that didn’t stop me wanting it. Wanting her.
I unwrapped my food and dug in, keeping a watchful eye on Jolie as I ate. I was so hungry, I barely tasted what went in my mouth, and I was surprised when I went to take another bite, only to discover the polystyrene tray empty. The hollow gnawing in the pit of my stomach had subsided. It had been a long time since I’d felt that hungry, and I’d discovered it had hindered my ability to think clearly.
“Oh my God, that was good.” Jolie sighed, placing her hands on her belly. She glanced over at me. “You ever eat something like that and then feel guilty after?” She had a wicked look on her face. “Like you’ve just done something really dirty.”
She surprised a laugh out of me. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
We grinned at each other, the atmosphere suddenly amicable.
A dot of tomato sauce was smeared at the corner of her mouth. Not thinking, I leaned in and wiped the sauce away with my thumb. She blinked at me in surprise but didn’t recoil or smack away my hand.
“Sorry. You had a little something...”
Self-consciously, she mimicked my movements and wiped the same spot with her own fingers. “Thanks.”
We still had the coffee to drink. It was cooler now, so we’d be able to sip it as we drove. I added sugar and cream to hers, though I drank mine black.
Mentally, I wished us back on the boat, or even the island, where I didn’t have to worry about the outside world interfering. Of course, I was living in a dream world. It wasn’t as though Jolie had been there with me willingly. I’d had to keep her locked up, and the one time she’d managed to escape, she’d tried to drown me. To call our relationship ‘turbulent’ would be the understatement of the century, but there were moments like this when I got a glimpse of what normal could be, and it made me long for it with an ache that sat heavily on my chest.
I pushed the longing away. Jolie’s father was out of jail, and it was my responsibility to track him down and kill the son of a bitch once and for all. I had to remember the reason I was doing this. I was doing it for my mother, and Loretta’s daughter, and all the other women he had killed. And I was doing it for myself, too—for the teenage boy who’d come home to find his mom naked and spread out across her bed, with her final breath already taken. I used to torture myself about what she must have been feeling and thinking right before she died. What were her final words? Did she even have any? Had she screamed, or had Patrick Dorman’s hand across her mouth prevented her from making a sound? Had she thought about me, perhaps worried that I’d come home and he’d hurt me, too? Worried about how I’d cope without her in my life? Or had she been ashamed in the knowledge that the last time I’d ever see her, she’d have been stripped naked, raped, and killed?
That old familiar anger surged up inside me, and I reached for it.
I put the lids back on the coffee. “We’d better get going,” I said, though I was uncertain as to where we were headed.
Jolie nodded. “Sure.”
I was aware that I still needed to get rid of the car and switch it for something else. Letting the rental company and the marina know my real name had been a mistake, but I couldn’t take it back now. They’d be able to trace my accounts, and if I tried to withdraw cash from any of my regular accounts, they’d probably have an alert on the transaction. I had access to money under different names, but they were all the sort of accounts that would need to be notified ahead of time before a cash withdrawal could be made.
One option was to steal a car. I was armed, but I didn’t want to hurt anyone, and taking a car that someone would report as being stolen right away wouldn’t be any better than continuing to drive the vehicle we were currently in.
A thought occurred to me. Maybe I could get my contact to lease a different car and leave it somewhere for me to pick up. I could make the switch, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about the police tracking down this vehicle. It was worth a try.
I pulled out my phone. “I’m just going to make a call and see if I can do something about this vehicle.”
“What do you mean?”
“Unless we steal a different car, I’m going to need to get someone on our side to provide us with a new one.”
I watched for a glint of hope in her eyes—something to tell me she was considering using my plan to meet up with someone on the outside of this to her advantage—but she only chewed anxiously on her lower lip.
“You think we can trust this person?” she asked.
“He’s one of the people giving me intel on your father’s location, so yes, I think so.” I’d learned over the past week or so that I couldn’t trust anyone one hundred percent, but I didn’t have much choice in this matter. If we stayed in this vehicle, at some point the license plate would get clocked, and the cops would pull us over. If that happened, this was all over.
I didn’t give her time to question me any further. I swiped the screen on my phone and pulled up the number. Pressing the phone to my ear, it only rang twice before the person answered.
He spoke before I had the chance. “I don’t have any more info for you right now, man.”
“That’s not why I’m calling. I need a car.”
A pause came down the other end. “What kind of car?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just need to switch it for the one I’m currently driving.”
When he replied, his tone was terse. “I don’t have spare cars just lying around.”
“You can rent me one.”
He huffed out an angry breath. “You know what we’re in the middle of here. You think I’ve got time to go to a rental office and start leasing vehicles? Someone is going to start asking questions.”
“Fine. Lend me your car, then. You do have a car, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then that will do. You know I’ll make it worth your while.”
As usual, money talked, and my contact let out a low growl. “Fine. You’re going to have to give me some time, though. It’s chaos around here, and I can’t just slip away.”
“You have an hour.”
I gave him a location to meet on the outskirts of the city and then ended the call.
Jolie glanced over at me anxiously. “You think he’ll do what you want?”
I pressed my lips together. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure there’s anyone in this world I can trust anymore.”
She flinched at my words. She’d promised me I could trust her, too, and had also gone back on her word when she’d tried to get help back at the marina. The hard crust I’d been working so hard to form over my heart cracked. I was a fool for her, no doubt about it.
“I guess it’s safer than trying to steal a car.” I could hear the doubt in her voice.
“And there’s the bonus that no one gets their car stolen.”
A hint of a smile touched the corners of her full lips—lips that were still shiny from the grease of the food we’d just eaten. “There’s that.”
It seemed crazy that we both still had an element of wanting to do the right thing, even though we’d already done so much wrong. I knew now that Jolie was a good person, but I couldn’t speak for myself.
I’d kidnapped a woman, and I still planned on killing a man.
Those weren’t exactly the makings of a hero.