The blunt pressure on Melanie’s neck eased a few seconds before the air bag deployed and her body lurched forward. Sprigs had to have dropped to the floorboard, because without a seat belt he’d most likely be dead with an impact like that one.
Everything went blurry, dizzy and she was confused, trying to process what had just happened. Seconds ticked by. Or minutes. She couldn’t be sure which.
Still dazed, she felt her instincts kick in and she managed to curl her fingers around the door handle and then push the door open with her left shoulder. She spilled out onto the concrete and fell onto all fours, heaving.
There was no time to waste. Everything in her body screamed to run, to get out of there and as far away as possible. Her thoughts immediately jumped to her son and holding him again. An image of him safe with his father pushed its way through her mind, powering her body to move forward. And Dawson.
Hope blossomed as she scrambled to her feet and then took off.
At any moment and with every step she expected a hand to grab her, jerking her back. So she pushed harder.
Because the only other thing she could think about was how much Mason needed his mother and maybe his father needed her just a little bit, too. She told herself it was because there was so much she needed to share with him about their son, but immediately she knew it for the lie it was.
When she was about to clear the block, she glanced back, needing to know if Sprigs was right behind her.
He wasn’t. There was no sign of him.
Even so, her heart pounded as she bolted around the corner and then down the residential street. She could hear highway noise in the distance. That was how close she’d been and that was most likely the reason Sprigs had acted when he did.
Dawson must be frantic with worry after their call had been cut off. Dawson. A piece of her heart broke knowing Dawson would never trust her again.
It was the middle of the night and there were no lights on in the row of bungalow-style houses. Thankfully there were no dogs barking, either. At least not at the moment.
How had Sprigs found her?
It didn’t matter. He had and now she had to figure out a way to get help and call police.
Stopping to knock on a door was risky. It could give Sprigs time to catch up, especially if he was getting close or coming at her from another angle.
Legs burning, Melanie slowed down and scanned the street behind her. It was too dark to see clearly, so she watched for any signs of movement.
Both sidewalks and the street seemed clear. She doublechecked front lawns. Didn’t see anything there, either. It was too soon to breathe easy.
Thank the heavens for her seat belt and for air bags. She’d been dazed but she’d made it out alive. Surely Sprigs was unconscious or worse. Was it too much to hope the nightmare could end? That he didn’t survive the crash?
At the very least, he’d been slowed down and she’d escaped. And that was worth something. Tears streaked her cheeks and she didn’t have the energy to fight them.
Thinking about injuries, Melanie had no idea if she’d been hurt during the accident. There’d be time to evaluate any scrapes and bruises later. Everything felt numb. No doubt she was still in too much shock to make a real determination.
For now, she could run and had no pain.
If she waited too long to knock on a door, she might be giving Sprigs time to catch up or disappear. Part of her needed to keep running. To put as much distance between she and Sprigs as she could to make sure he couldn’t get to her.
On the next block, she stopped at the first door and knocked. A tiny, high-pitched, rapid-fire bark sounded on the other side.
Another dog barked two houses down. And then across the street.
Melanie bit back a curse and prayed like the dickens that Sprigs was knocked out and not searching the streets for her. If he was, he’d no doubt find her thanks to the noise.
She banged on the door again, louder this time, and a light came on. The little dog was going crazy barking.
Melanie could feel her heartbeat in her throat as the door swung open. A sturdy man, midthirties, glared at her from the other side.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but it’s an emergency. There’s been an accident.” The words rushed out as a flood of tears released. She glanced around, searching for signs of Sprigs. “May I use your phone? Please.”
The big guy checked around her as if he half expected someone to jump out from behind her, and then nodded.
“Thank you.” Melanie opened the screen door and repeated those two words.
“Who is it, Roger?” A female wearing a time-worn cotton bathrobe emerged from the hallway. Her short dark hair stuck out at odd angles.
“Go back to bed, honey. I’ll take care of it,” Roger said.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I’ve been in an accident and there was no one...” A sob tore from Melanie’s throat. She suppressed the next one. “I didn’t know what to do so I ran here.”
No way could she tell them more or let her guard down, not with Sprigs still out there. Even though Roger looked capable of handling himself.
“Are you all right?” the woman asked, picking up the barking dog and shushing it.
Melanie nodded through sobs as Roger flipped on the living room light.
The woman gasped. “Your arms. You’re hurt.”
“Celia, get a wet towel,” Roger said.
“I’m fine. I just need to use the phone,” Melanie said, glancing down for the first time. Her arms were bloodred from what looked like burn marks. She didn’t have time to worry about them. Burns would heal. She needed to call the police and then let Dawson know that she was okay. “And please don’t answer the door if anyone knocks.”
“Sit down.” Roger pointed to the plaid sofa with a severe look on his face. “I’ll get my cell.”
By the time he returned, Celia was by Melanie’s side, gently pressing the towels to her forearms.
“You said you were in a crash?” Roger said, handing over the phone.
Melanie nodded.
“Anyone else with you?” he asked.
Melanie hesitated. Tell the truth and what would happen? Would Roger go check on the other person?
Lie and she’d get caught. She had to tell the dispatcher who was in the car with her.
“Yes.” More sobs released as Melanie called 9-1-1. She didn’t realize how badly she was shaking until just now.
“What is your emergency?” the operator asked.
“I was just in a car crash near Northwest Freeway Highway 290,” Melanie said.
“Do you need an ambulance, ma’am?” the dispatcher asked, her voice a calming force in the chaos churning through Melanie.
“I don’t think so. I was attacked by a man named Jordan Sprigs and that’s the reason I wrecked. He’s wanted by the FBI and I think he’s still at the crash site.” Panicked, she glanced up at Celia and then Roger, who were passing a look between them, and Melanie’s heart skipped a beat.
Celia patted Melanie’s leg reassuringly.
“Are you there with him now?” the dispatcher asked.
“No. I got out of the car and ran a few blocks to get away. I don’t think he followed me. We hit the wall hard, he wasn’t wearing a seat belt and I have no idea what condition he’s in.”
“Okay,” the dispatcher said. “Tell me what happened. An officer is on his way to the scene as we speak.”
Melanie caught a glimpse as Roger and Celia exchanged another worried glance. She heard Celia tell him to lock the door before she whispered that she’d be back as soon as she got dressed.
Roger clicked the lock, and then disappeared down the hall as Melanie recounted the events to the dispatcher.
It had all happened so fast that Melanie couldn’t remember all the details, but she drew the best picture she could of the timeline.
Celia returned wearing warm-ups. Her hair had been brushed.
“Can we turn off the lights?” Melanie asked after ending the call. “Just in case he’s wandering around looking for me?”
Celia nodded, complied immediately. There was still a glow coming from the electronics and soft wall lights in the room. They provided enough light to see. Celia came over and sat next to Melanie on the couch.
“How are those arms?” she asked.
“Honestly, I don’t think the shock has worn off. I can’t feel anything.”
“We should put something on them,” Celia said, her brow creased with worry. “Burn salve.”
“Do you mind if I call my boyfriend?” For lack of a better term. “We were on the phone when it all happened and he must be climbing the walls by now.”
Roger returned with a twelve-gauge shotgun resting on his arm.
“Go ahead,” Celia said. “Can I get you anything else? Water?”
“No. Thank you.” Melanie punched in Dawson’s number.
He answered on the first ring.
“It’s me. I’m okay,” she said immediately.
“What happened?” He didn’t bother to hide the stress in his voice now.
“He was in the car. In the backseat,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Sprigs?”
“Yes,” she said, taking a gulp of air. She reminded herself that she was okay and to breathe.
“Where are you?” Dawson asked.
“I’m at a nice couple’s house. They let me in.” Sirens sounded in the distance and Melanie’s shoulder slumped forward. For the first time since the ordeal happened, she felt Sprigs couldn’t get to her.
“What’s the address? I’m coming right now.” No matter how determined he seemed, she couldn’t let him bring their son anywhere near this place.
“Don’t wake Mason. I’m safe. No one can hurt me now. The police are on their way and they’ll get him this time,” she said in between gulps of air.
“How’d you get away from him?” Dawson asked.
“I crashed the car into a building,” she said quietly, ignoring the gasp that came from Celia.
“You did what?” Dawson’s voice was incredulous.
“There was no other way to get away from him, so I slammed my foot on the gas pedal and aimed for the nearest building,” she said.
“Melanie, are you sure you’re okay?” Dawson lowered his voice and his pain was a knife ripping through her chest.
“I did what I had to, Dawson. He didn’t hurt me, but he intended to and I knew it.” Her voice hitched no matter how strong she was trying to be.
“I know he did, sweetheart. I’m just grateful that you’re alive.” His voice was so anguished her heart burned.
“He didn’t hurt me,” she repeated. “And as soon as I give my statement to police, I’m coming home.”
For the first time since this whole ordeal had started, she believed those last three words.
“Yes, you are,” he said. “And then we’re getting the hell out of here.”
“Okay.” He was right. Sprigs at the very least knew the area in which she lived. It wouldn’t be long before he figured out her address, if he didn’t already know. She couldn’t take any chances when it came to Mason. And she had every intention of living long enough to watch all the milestones he had yet to achieve.
Squad car lights blared outside. A few seconds later, a knock sounded at the front door.
“I better go, Dawson. The police are here.”
“Can I speak to the owner of the house?” he asked.
“Sure.” She glanced at Roger and moved the phone from her ear. “He’d like to talk to you.”
Roger was already at the door when he nodded. He invited the officer inside and then took the phone from Melanie.
Adrenaline must be wearing off, because Melanie started shaking even harder. Celia dabbed aloe on Melanie’s arms and then put a blanket over her legs as the officer introduced himself as Special Agent Randall. He asked a few questions as she accepted a glass of water from Celia.
“Is he still there?” she asked Special Agent Randall once initial information had been relayed. “Did they catch him?”
“I’ll check.” He took a couple of steps toward the door and asked through his radio if the suspect was in custody.
Melanie held her breath waiting for the answer to come. Sprigs had to be there. Otherwise he would’ve followed her. Right?
She heard the officer thank the responder as he moved near her again.
“He must’ve fled the scene. Officers are searching for him and we’ve notified our FBI liaison,” Special Agent Randall said.
No. This couldn’t be.
“How could he survive that impact?” she asked, still stunned.
“He might’ve crawled a few hundred yards away into the brush or managed to get into a Dumpster to hide. If he’s around here, we’ll do our best to find him, ma’am.”
Those words, meant to be reassuring, left a hole in Melanie’s chest. As long as Sprigs was out there, she’d have to watch every shadow. She’d have to expect him around every corner. She’d have to fear closing her eyes.
And, worst of all, she was afraid he could get to Mason.
The thought sent an icy chill racing down her spine.
“Thank you,” she said, tamping down her worst fears. “Is there any chance my purse or cell phone was found?”
“Both of those items are on their way here right now,” Special Agent Randall said.
At least she would get those back. The thought of Sprigs getting away with her personal belongings sent a different kind of chill down her spine, like the feeling people described of what happened when a cat walked over a grave.
The officer finished the interview by letting her know that the city would tow her car for her.
She thanked him again.
“Would you like access to medical treatment?” he asked.
“No. I’m fine,” she said, fearing she would never be fine again. Sprigs would see to that.
“Can I offer you a ride somewhere?” Special Agent Randall asked.
“I told her boyfriend that I’d drive her home,” Roger said.
That must’ve been why Dawson had wanted to speak to Roger.
“I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much,” Melanie said.
Roger shook his head. “It’s no trouble.”
“We want to help,” Celia said. “Don’t think twice about it.”
“I don’t want to burden you guys—”
Roger’s hands went up. “I’m a man of my word.”
“Thank you both. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t answered the door when you did.” The thought of what Sprigs wanted to do to her made her stomach churn.
He was still out there.
* * *
DAWSON HAD ALL the essentials packed up and ready to go by the time Melanie walked through the front door.
She ran straight into his arms, where he hauled her against his chest. He tilted her head back and kissed her on the forehead, each eyelid and then her lips.
The thought that she might not come home had eaten away at his stomach lining.
The past few hours had been pure hell.
“You’re safe,” he whispered as she trembled in his arms.
Anger ripped through him at the thought of what could’ve happened to her. She’d been quick on her feet and that was the only reason she was here in his arms and not stranded somewhere with that sick bastard Sprigs, or dead.
Her chin came up and there was defiance in her stare. “I couldn’t let him take me. I had no doubt he would eventually kill me when he was through with me. All I could think of was Mason growing up without a mother and how much he needed me.”
“You did the right thing,” Dawson reassured her. And then he just held her, trying not to notice how much her body molded to his or how warm her skin felt against his own. “Is Roger outside?”
“He left.”
“I wanted to shake his hand and give him some money for gas,” Dawson said.
“He wouldn’t take anything from me. He said to tell you not to worry about it. Said he hoped that if something like that ever happened to his Celia, someone would do the right thing and help her, too.”
Dawson was grateful to the man and he would find a way to repay him.
Melanie told him what had happened and showed him the card that Special Agent Randall had given her. It had a phone number she was supposed to call if Sprigs showed up again in addition to a case number scribbled on it.
“Your car is evidence, so I’m sure you won’t be getting that back anytime soon and even if you did it won’t be drivable. My SUV is still in Mason Ridge, so I figure we’ll need a rental,” he said.
“He got away, Dawson.” Her words trembled as much as her body when she said it.
“Not for long,” he said. “Even if he could walk after a wreck like that, he couldn’t have gone far. They’ll catch him tonight or tomorrow. They want him as much as we do.” He doubted that was possible but said the words to offer her some reassurance.
“And if they don’t?” She pulled back from him a little, and he repositioned so as not to hurt her arms. Wide, fearful eyes stared up at him.
“They will. If not, then I will. He just made a huge mistake when you got away. One I’m grateful for. It’s only a matter of time for him now that they have a general vicinity.” Dawson held her tighter, not quite ready to let her go.
“I hope you’re right,” she said.
She leaned into his chest and for one crazy second the world felt right again. Dawson reasoned that recent events had him off balance, and the thumping in his chest meant nothing more than gratitude that Mason’s mother was home safe.
“In the meantime, I’m taking you and our son to my family’s lake house,” he said.
“Your parents still own that place?”
“They do.” Although no one in the family had used it since Bethany was alive. His heart dropped to the toe of his boot and he was filled with the same sense of dread he’d felt when the doctor said all they could do was help her rest comfortably. It had been his idea to take Bethany to the lake house, her favorite place on earth, when she was losing her last little grip on life. It was the last place anyone would ever think to look or expect Dawson to go.
That was precisely the reason it would be perfect for the three of them.
Facing that place again was as appealing as swallowing fire. But Mason and Melanie were the priorities now. And Dawson would do whatever it took to ensure their safety.
“The car rental place doesn’t open for another...” Dawson glanced at his watch “...forty-five minutes.”
“I just remembered that I don’t have a car seat anymore,” Melanie said.
“Not a problem. They rent those. I’ve asked for an SUV with a car seat and GPS. Should we wake Mason?”
“Let’s let him sleep. I might as well pack his breakfast.” She took a step back and started toward the kitchen.
“Already done,” Dawson said. “I had to do something productive to force myself to stop pacing earlier.”
Melanie turned around.
“How did he find me, Dawson?” Her chin was defiant, but her voice was small.
“I don’t know.” If there was a way to keep Melanie and Mason safe tucked away somewhere, Dawson would hunt the son of a bitch down personally and make sure he never hurt another woman or child. As it was, he wouldn’t be able to leave them with anyone else or let either of them out of his sight. Not even his best friends in Mason Ridge, and Dawson trusted those guys with his own life.
He thought about calling them for backup and that thought died quickly on the vine.
First of all, he didn’t want anyone to know about their new location. He wasn’t worried that his friends would tell anyone where he was going. That wasn’t the problem. He didn’t want to take a chance that anyone could intercept the call.
Another advantage Dawson had at the moment was that Sprigs didn’t seem to realize that Dawson was with Melanie and the creep might not know about their son, either. For Mason and Melanie’s sake, Dawson needed to keep a lid on his new role as father. All it would take would be one look at Mason and Dawson’s friends would make the connection.
Second, all of his friends had been through the wringer in recent weeks while authorities were trying to identify and then arrest those involved with the child abduction ring. Everyone inside Dawson’s circle had been touched by recent events, and some of them still had the physical marks to prove it.
“I considered the possibility that he would send someone else after me, but I didn’t think in a thousand years that he would come himself. Not when he has this much heat on him,” Melanie said. “And how did he get in my car? I promise that I locked the doors before. I always do and I’m being extra careful now.”
Sprigs was smart and that made him a helluva lot more dangerous. And deadly.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that.” Dawson shouldn’t notice how beautiful her brown eyes were right now or allow his emotions to take over, because they had him wanting to take her in his arms and never let go. He reasoned that he was still shaken up at the thought of almost losing her. He’d spent a good half hour not knowing what had happened to her and fearing the worst. “He may have gone back to your parents’ house and found a pay stub lying around.”
“I cleaned my purse out when I was there. All he’d have to do is look through the trash,” she said.
“Then my guess is that he pulled the fire alarm to create enough of a diversion to get everyone out of the building.”
“He had access to my purse,” she said. “But we came right back in and got our things. Someone would’ve seen him coming in and out if he went outside to unlock my car, wouldn’t they?”
“He’d only have to use your remote to unlock your doors,” Dawson said.
“So that must mean he was watching me earlier when I arrived at work? Otherwise, how would he know which one was mine?”
“All he’d have to do is click the remote and he could see which car belonged to you. In all that commotion and with the fire alarm blaring, no one would notice what was going on in the parking lot.” Dawson paced.
“People were leaving left and right after the alarm,” she said.
“He wouldn’t have to know which purse was yours, either. All he’d have to do is check wallets for identification. The fire alarm would be the perfect cover. He could’ve hid inside the bathroom until everyone cleared out. Then, with all the racket of the sirens outside, he’d be able to cover the sound of your car unlocking. Was it busy?”
“The place was packed.” Her jaw fell slack. “If he checked my ID then he could’ve taken my driver’s license.”