A prisoner was handcuffed in the seat beside him; one he’d broken out of her cell. If his plan worked, she’d be back behind bars soon—and there was a decent chance he’d be headed there himself.
The whole thing sounded ridiculous, even in his head. When he’d first met Alanna, he’d seen her as his chance to finally find acceptance at the Desparre PD. Instead, he’d lied to the whole department and committed a crime inside his own station. How had this become his life?
Peter tried not to think too hard about the consequences as he maneuvered up the slick mountain roads toward a cabin well hidden in the woods that he’d only visited once before. Of course, his passenger knew the route from memory.
As soon as he’d gotten Darcy clear of the Desparre police station, he’d hustled her down the dark sidewalk around the corner to his truck, praying no shop owner was watching from behind darkened windows. Then he’d slapped handcuffs on her and pushed her into the passenger seat of his vehicle.
For a brief moment, he’d considered cutting Alanna out entirely, just driving Darcy up to the cabin and trying to make the trade directly for the baby. But he’d reconsidered before he’d reached the base of the mountain. It would be too hard to manage it all alone. The safest thing for Elysia was to get her completely away from the line of fire. At least with Alanna, she could walk toward him. How would he hold a baby while keeping his gun trained on Johnny? Even cuffed, there was no way to predict what Darcy might try. And while Johnny probably didn’t actually want to raise the baby, Darcy might.
Besides, Alanna had asked him to trust her. Maybe she’d be able to get through to Johnny and end the whole thing peacefully. Maybe he’d even be able to slip Darcy back into her jail cell without anyone noticing she’d been gone.
Yeah, and maybe he’d still have a job come daylight.
Still, there was a chance. Somewhere on the road ahead of him, Kensie and Colter were driving up in one vehicle and Alanna in another. Alanna was supposed to text them all once she’d reached the cabin, then wait for their confirmation before she went to the door.
Once Alanna left with Johnny, he would follow. Kensie and Colter were going to get the baby and take her to safety. When he’d called to tell them to get moving, he’d gotten Colter off Speaker. The man had a leg injury he’d sustained as a marine that had never fully healed, but he still had a military mentality. If needed, Colter had promised to get his wife and child down the mountain, then come back up with a weapon and possibly Rebel. While her specialty had been tracking bomb-makers and she was long retired, she’d been military, too. Peter had worked with enough soldiers to know: once military, always military.
Peter hoped he wouldn’t need them, but he did feel slight relief at the idea of having backup if everything went sideways. Overseas, the deadliest thing he’d carried had been a pen. But he’d been with soldiers, who’d been armed and ready to protect. Now on the force, he worked with a partner. But right at this moment, he’d never felt more alone. And it might be Alanna’s life on the line.
“You’re in love with my daughter, aren’t you?”
It was the first time Darcy had spoken since she’d let him pull her silently out of the station and into his truck. She hadn’t even protested when he’d handcuffed her.
He glanced briefly at her, remembering the harsh words she’d spoken to Alanna in the interrogation room. “If you still think of Alanna as your daughter, then you’ll help me convince Johnny to let her go and take you instead.”
“So, that’s your plan. I figured it had something to do with my son. I didn’t think you actually planned to let me go, though. You must really love her if you’re willing to break the law. Or have you always been a crooked cop?”
He darted another glance at her, trying not to show how her words stung. Her opinion of him didn’t really matter. But he did wonder what she thought of their chances of getting both Elysia and Alanna out of there safely.
She just stared back at him, a mix of curiosity, distrust and anticipation on her face.
If this went sideways, he’d have to worry about more than just going to jail. If he couldn’t find a way to stop Darcy and Johnny after he got Alanna to safety, he’d be letting two child kidnappers go free. He had no doubts she and Johnny would start up right where they’d left off.
A ball of dread filled his stomach and twisted angrily. Peter clutched the wheel harder as the icy dirt roads beneath him became even more rough; this was an area that the town’s snowplows didn’t go. Anyone who lived up the mountain was tough. They lived at the mercy of the Alaskan wilderness and they always had a backup plan, too.
Peter darted one last glance at Darcy, hoping she’d be worth enough to Johnny that he’d give up his dreams of revenge. Hoping he didn’t have his own plan that would leave all of them at his mercy.
The phone in his cup holder buzzed, startling Peter, and he glanced at it. Alanna. She’d arrived and was waiting for their go-ahead. Less than a minute later, Colter texted that he was in place, hidden off the side of the road. They were just waiting for Peter.
He hit the gas and his wheels spun out slightly. As he righted the vehicle, Darcy warned, “Don’t drive us off the side of the road now. Not when we’re so close.”
She sounded too calm, like this had been her plan instead of his, and he tried not to let it worry him.
Then they were near the top of the mountain, still deep in the woods, as the first rays of morning sunrise started to filter through the trees. In theory, there weren’t many routes off this mountain, just the main roads that snaked their way up and down, and they were sometimes impassable. But Alanna had lost him up here less than a week ago and if she could do it, so could Johnny.
He pulled the truck off the side of the road, far enough away that Johnny wouldn’t be able to see him from the cabin. Then he took a deep breath and sent a group text. I’m here. Be careful.
I’m going in, Alanna responded.
From where he was positioned, Peter could see the very end of the Altiers driveway. He watched as Alanna’s rental pulled in and then disappeared up toward the house. Now all he could do was wait.
Time seemed to stretch out forever and Peter couldn’t stop his fingers from tapping a nervous beat against the steering wheel. Beside him, Darcy kept craning in her seat, trying to get a glimpse of the house. But it wouldn’t happen. Alanna had told him exactly where to wait to stay out of view from the house.
Maybe he should go in. In theory, he’d be able to hear a gunshot from here, but a gun wasn’t the only way to kill someone. Alanna was fairly tall for a woman and much stronger than her thin frame suggested, but he’d seen pictures of Johnny from five years ago. The man was six feet tall, even back then, and made up of all lean muscle. Plus, he was full of rage.
Peter glanced at the clock, then at his phone again. Ten minutes and no word. It was too long.
He was just reaching for the gear shift when an engine started up. The clunk clunk was familiar and Peter realized it was the same sound he’d heard at the last cabin. He mentally flashed back to that moment. Alanna had been getting through to Darcy. He’d seen the decision flash across her face, the recognition that it was time to stop running. Then that car had driven by—the old engine sounds grumbling—and she’d changed her mind. Johnny must have been driving up to get her.
Peter shook the memory clear as an old sedan backed down the drive. He grabbed the binoculars he’d stuck in his truck when he’d tracked Alanna on his day off and peered through them as the vehicle backed onto the street.
Johnny was in the car, but he was in the passenger seat. He glanced around, paranoia in his eyes but a smile on his face. He held a pistol, pointed toward the occupant of the driver’s seat.
Peter glanced right and saw Alanna behind the wheel, her jaw clenched tight. As she stopped in the street, she gave an unmistakable triple nod of her head: the signal that Elysia had been left behind. Then the car shot forward, racing out of sight.
Peter held his breath as another vehicle pulled into the Altier cabin driveway. Peter backed into the street, then braced his foot on the brake, waiting.
“Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered as Darcy demanded, “What are you doing? Follow them! Follow Johnny and Alanna! When I was caught, he ditched his phone to be safe. I don’t have a way to get a hold of him anymore. Hurry!”
Every instinct he had demanded he pick his foot up off the brake and stomp down on the gas, catch up to Johnny and Alanna before she drove right off the mountain and the two of them disappeared. But he’d promised.
“Come on!”
At his shout, Darcy jerked in her seat but went quiet.
Then his phone buzzed with a message from Colter. We’ve got Elysia.
Peter shifted into Drive and stomped on the gas, making the back of his vehicle fishtail as snow sprayed out behind him. Then he and Darcy were off, racing down the mountain, hoping to catch up to Johnny and Alanna.
THIS ANGRY, SNARLING man holding a gun to her head as she drove was the “brother” who’d once carried her half a mile through the snow when she’d twisted her ankle playing. The brother who’d wiped her tears away when he’d caught her crying over missing the family she’d been taken from. The brother who’d told her he couldn’t wait to watch her dancing at his wedding.
Every time the old sedan hit a bump on the potholed road down the mountain, Alanna grimaced, hoping Johnny’s finger wasn’t on the trigger.
Her plan had worked. She’d walked up to the front door and Johnny had opened it before she could even knock. He’d held the gun on her, then glanced past her at the driveway. When she’d offered to go with him if he left Elysia behind, he’d scoffed. Then he’d stared at her a long moment, nodded his head and let her look in on a sleeping Elysia, content in an old crib.
“I know you’re not here alone. They try to come for me and I’ll take you out first, you got that, Alanna?” he’d asked.
The coldness in his tone had dried up her mouth and all she could do was nod.
“Then let’s go,” he’d said, ushering her out the door. “I don’t need the baby. And I’d never hurt her anyway. But you and I have a score to settle.”
That had been five minutes ago. Hopefully by now, Elysia was cradled in Kensie’s arms, on her way back to her parents’ cabin.
Since then, Johnny had just looked over at her and demanded, “Are the cops coming?”
Alanna had shaken her head and stared back at him, feeling truthful, because the only cop around was Peter. And he wasn’t coming until Elysia was safe. Even then, he’d have to catch up to them.
Johnny had always been able to read her. Maybe because he was older or he’d known her for so long, he’d always been able to tell when she was lying. This time, he’d just smiled and ordered her to head down the primary road off the mountain.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Johnny,” she whispered, the fear she felt coming through in her voice.
He snorted, not moving the pistol away from her head. “Well, you sure screwed that up.”
She darted a glance at him, taking in the new lines just visible across his forehead and the harsh line of his jaw, now shaded with dark stubble, that had still looked boyish five years ago. At twenty-three, there’d been something sad and pensive if you looked close enough into his eyes, but he had usually worn a smile on his face. Now there was nothing but anger.
An ache filled her chest, knowing her note had ripped his life apart and he hadn’t been able to put together a newer, better one. Sadness followed, regret that she hadn’t tried a note years earlier, back before Darcy and Julian had asked Johnny to lure Sydney away from a playground. Back when it might have made a difference to the life of the older “brother” she’d adored for so long.
Was the person she loved even in there anymore? Or had all the good in him been warped and destroyed?
She swiped at the tears that suddenly blinded her and Johnny snapped, “You don’t get to cry. You caused this. You caused all of this.”
She shook her head, wishing she could pull the car over, that they could just talk like old times. “Johnny—”
“Didn’t you love us at all?” he asked, his voice suddenly softer, more uncertain, like the boy she remembered.
The boy she’d hugged tight while he shook with suppressed tears after Sydney had first come to live with them, had cried and slapped him, telling him she hated him. The boy whose skinned knees she’d helped bandage after he’d fallen on the roof they’d been building, skidding halfway down the side before catching himself. The boy she’d tried to keep up with when he took her snowshoeing through the woods.
“I’ve never stopped loving you,” Alanna said, letting her foot lift off the gas a little, slowing their dangerous speed down the treacherous road.
He snorted. “That’s a lie.” But he lowered the pistol slightly away from her head and there was less fury in his tone.
The Johnny she remembered was still in there somewhere.
Her heart rate picked up, hope sparking through the fear. “There’s another way, Johnny.” She spoke fast, not wanting him to cut her off. “It doesn’t have to be like this. It should never have been like this. But I still love you. You’re still my brother.”
“And what about our mother? What about our father?” He lifted the pistol again and when she looked over, she saw the tears glistening in his eyes.
“I didn’t want any of that. But you know what they did was wrong. What they made you do was wrong.”
“They looked after us,” Johnny said, but there was a tremor in his voice, as if he was trying to convince himself it was true.
She could get through to him. She just needed a little time.
Alanna lifted her foot a tiny bit more off the gas. She didn’t know what the next stage in his plan was, but if she could stretch out this trip, where she had his undivided attention, then maybe she’d have enough time to get through to him. Convince him to put the gun down and turn himself in.
Her gaze darted to the rearview mirror and she pushed down on the gas again. She’d started out at dangerous speeds, speeds someone not familiar with the mountain roads probably wouldn’t be able to match. But Peter was coming for her. She needed to stay far enough in front of him that she could talk Johnny down, but not so far that he’d lose her if she was wrong.
She loved Johnny. Despite the things he’d done, he’d been a victim once, too. He deserved the chance to rehabilitate, the chance to start a real life for himself. One that hadn’t been built from lies, where he was surrounded by people who loved him without stipulations, who’d support him as he rebuilt something better for himself.
Still, if he refused to take this chance, she wasn’t willing to give up her own life for him. She deserved a chance to really start over, too. She wanted to be fully honest with her parents, Kensie and Flynn, about how conflicted she’d felt for the past five years. She wanted the chance to travel to Kansas to see Sydney in person again. To talk to Drew’s and Valerie’s parents, explain that she didn’t want to relive the past with their kids, but to build a future where they were still a part of her family, too.
And she deserved a chance to tell Peter how much he’d come to mean to her over the past week. If she survived this last drive with Johnny, she was heading home to Chicago. Three thousand five hundred miles was too far to build a romantic relationship. But it wasn’t too far to build a friendship. It was less than she wanted, but it was better than losing him.
Before she could fight for Peter, she had to convince Johnny that everything he believed about Darcy and Julian was wrong, that everything he believed about her was wrong. She took a deep breath, then said, “They did look after us. But they stole from us, too. They stole our chance to grow up with other people who loved us.”
He made another sound of disbelief, but it was quieter this time and the gun was lowering again.
“I met your parents, you know.”
Back at the hospital in Luna, five years ago, Johnny’s parents had shown up, tearful and excited to see their son again, just as she’d been ready to leave for Chicago. She’d shyly said hello and his mom had squeezed her arm and whispered, “Your parents are going to be overjoyed.” Then she’d looked at her husband and added, “We couldn’t even believe this was real.”
“You did?” Johnny asked.
His gun was on his lap now, his expression a mix of suspicion and anger. But beneath it all, there was interest. Beneath it all, there was still hope.
Still a chance.
“Yes,” Alanna said, her hand twitching to take his.
Then suddenly a truck flew out in front of her from a side road, making her slam on the brakes. Her head flew forward, the seat belt painful across her chest. The back end of the sedan fishtailed wildly, the vehicle not equipped to handle this kind of terrain. They continued to skid downward and she pushed the brake harder as the ABS activated, praying she wasn’t about to crash into the vehicle stopped in front of her.
Peter’s vehicle.
The car kept moving and Alanna heard herself scream, even though she didn’t remember opening her mouth. Somehow the car finally stopped, with only a soft screech of metal as the front end scraped the side of Peter’s truck.
Then everything seemed to happen at once. Peter scrambled out of his truck as Johnny’s hand fisted in her coat, his other hand unhooking her belt. Then she was being pulled across the front seats, her body bumping every surface, surely creating bruises everywhere as she tried to help herself along. Suddenly she was outside the car, Johnny’s hand still rough on her biceps, his pistol against the side of her head.
Across from her, Peter stood with his own hostage. Darcy’s hands were cuffed in front of her, but the woman actually looked serene, a half smile on her face as Peter shouted, “I’ve got a trade for you, Johnny. Alanna for Darcy.”