Chapter 17

Holly slowed the car and tried to calm down and think rationally. Unfortunately, she found the whole process very difficult.

Taking a deep breath, she attempted to put her thoughts in order, tried to think of her next move.

Her brother had been killed by an intruder, someone who felt he’d done Billy a favor. He’d also framed her for the murder.

Surely, she had the police after her. She questioned her judgment on running, but that psycho had been right—all evidence led right back to her. It would be her word against his.

She needed to rest, to think. She needed to go somewhere quiet that allowed her the time to do that.

No matter what options she considered—a hotel, a friend’s house, leaving the state—it all seemed too risky. Credit cards were easy to track, and if she shacked up with one of her few friends, she’d put them in danger as well.

Pulling out the key ring for the bunkers, she fingered each one. She hadn’t run into Noah and Lieutenant Justice today, but certainly, they wouldn’t keep hanging out in the bunker they’d already checked, right?

She’d be safe there for a little while. Yes, her superiors would wonder where the hell she had gone, but she couldn’t very well call in and say her brother had been murdered and she’d been framed for it.

She just needed somewhere to go and lay low until she figured out where to go to get help, and the bunker seemed like the best option.

Flooring the car, she made her way there while obeying all speed limit signs. She flipped on the talk radio, doubting she’d hear anything about her brother or her during the news breaks, but listening just in case. The sound also helped her focus.

Good God, her brother had been killed. Murdered.

A sob escaped her throat, and she swallowed it back as guilt literally made her heart hurt. She couldn’t let the tears flow again, not until she was safe. If she lost it, she could end up having to pull over, and she didn’t want to take the chance of a cop stopping to help her and then ending up arresting her. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the road ahead.

To her right, the sun began to set, casting beautiful slashes of pinks and red across the sky and clouds.

Veering off onto the dirt road, she drove a few miles and saw the bunker in the distance. If she hadn’t known it was there, she’d never have noticed it as it blended in perfectly with the desert surroundings. As she approached, she could make out the low rooftop.

Pulling up to the gate, she punched in the code and waited for it to slip to the right as she decided it would be best to park behind the bunker so her car wouldn’t be visible to anyone approaching.

After turning off the engine, she got out of the vehicle and stood in the desert silence for a moment. Yes, this is what she needed—complete solitude to get over her shock and fear and figure out what her next step would be.

Her footsteps against the dirt sounded loud as they echoed in her ears, and she pulled out the keys and opened the door. Quickly, she went to the cabinets and opened one up, finding an old rag and throwing up it up over the camera. She eyed the lock leading down into the bunker itself—she could break it. She returned to the outdoors and walked around looking for a large rock. When she finally found it, she went back into the bunker and tried to shatter the lock with it.

After a few tries, she dropped it and sank to the floor. Exhaustion overtook her, and the tears began to flow.

That man had been right—the guilt ate at her, making her heart hurt. The argument kept playing over and over in her mind, her last words to Billy reverberating through her head in a never-ending loop—fuck you, Billy.

She had wanted to help him, but she’d been so angry because he wouldn’t help himself; he hadn’t wanted to help himself. She worked so hard to fill so many roles in her job—as his caregiver, the cook, the maid, the banker … and he couldn’t even take a shower and get ready to go meet his shrink.

Pulling off her sweatshirt, she balled it up and lay down on the dirt floor. Sobs wracked her body as her bones ached with blame.

Eventually, she cried herself to sleep.