Clank! They’d been hit!
“Keep your head down,” he ordered, the sound of a bullet hitting metal sending Mike’s pulse rocketing into triple digits. Wrenching the steering wheel to the side, he abruptly pulled off the road and headed directly into the deeply rutted and newly plowed field. Unable to bear the thought of Shayla or Brodie being injured by a bullet, he earnestly began to pray.
Heavenly Father, please keep Shayla and our son safe in Your care!
The wheel jerked in his hands and he did his best to put more distance between him and the gunmen in the sports car.
“Where are you going?” Shayla asked shakily as Brodie’s crying intensified. The SUV rolled from side to side as Mike pushed the vehicle as fast as he dared over the uneven terrain.
“Our goal is to reach the old farmhouse up ahead.” His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly. “I doubt the sports car will be able to follow us.”
“Are you crazy?” Shayla twisted in her seat while keeping her head low.
He risked a glance at his rearview mirror. “They’ll bottom out and get stuck if they try.”
True enough, the sports car pulled off the road, then ground to a halt.
“What if they come after us on foot?”
He loosened his grip enough to reach for his phone. He tossed it into her lap. “Call Hawk, tell him to come back this way.”
Brodie’s crying had subsided to hiccuping sobs that tore at his heart. Mike wanted nothing more than to pull his son into his arms and comfort him. Impossible not only because he was driving, but he was also nothing more than a stranger to the little boy.
Shayla’s voice was shaky as she explained their tenuous situation to Hawk. Mike was confident his PI buddy would instantly return to help them out.
He prayed again, this time that Hawk would arrive before it was too late.
Glancing again at the rearview mirror, he searched for signs of the gunmen following on foot. He was armed, and an expert marksman, but one weapon against two or more wasn’t reassuring.
His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw two dark figures get out of the sports car. Sick with fear, he pushed the SUV faster. Reaching the shelter of the farmhouse was their best chance of defending themselves. The field didn’t offer any hiding places, but he was sure he’d be able to hold them off long enough for Hawk to arrive.
“They’re coming,” Shayla whispered in horror.
“We’re going to be okay. God is watching over us.” He did his best to sound positive.
Tiny headlights could be seen in the distance coming from the south and Mike hoped it was Hawk riding to the rescue. He couldn’t see the dark shapes behind them any longer and couldn’t say for sure if the two men were still advancing or had turned back.
He continued praying as the farmhouse grew larger. Up close, he could see it was in worse shape than anticipated. Several windows were broken and he thought there may be a few holes in the ceiling, but a dilapidated structure was better than nothing.
The SUV abruptly lurched to one side, his left front tire hitting a large rock. There was a loud noise, as if something underneath had broken. He shifted his weight toward his door, hoping the vehicle wouldn’t tip over.
“Mike!” Shayla said with a gasp.
A second later the SUV landed on all four tires and he hit the brake, bringing the car to a stop. “We need to get inside. Hurry!”
Shayla had already unbuckled her seat belt and was pushing her door open, clearly frantic to get to their son. He pulled his weapon and hurried around the front of the car to help. She lifted Brodie into her arms, holding him protectively against her chest.
“We’re going in around the back,” Mike said, sweeping his gaze over the field. The black sports car was still there, but he couldn’t make out whether or not the two gunmen were still on the loose.
The half-moon offered some light but he used his phone’s flashlight app to illuminate the way inside the house. The back door wasn’t locked and he hoped no one else was hiding inside.
He held his breath, sweeping the beam from his phone over the interior of the building.
It appeared to be empty. The inside smelled dank and musty, a thick layer of dust covering every surface. There were no recent footprints in the dust covering the floor and he winced when he saw mouse dirt.
“It’s awful in here,” Shayla whispered.
He couldn’t disagree. “I know, but it’s temporary until Hawk arrives.”
Shayla didn’t argue, though he could tell she wasn’t about to put Brodie down anytime soon.
“Stay behind me,” he instructed, moving through the structure to the part of the house overlooking the highway. He turned off his phone light and stood, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
A few minutes later he could see enough to approach the dust-caked window.
The sports car was gone! Relief washed over him but then he realized that one of the gunmen could still be out there somewhere. That moving the sports car might be a ruse to lull him into complacency.
The lower corner of the window next to him was broken, so he made his way over and hunkered down to watch for signs of movement. The twin headlights he’d noticed earlier grew brighter as it approached, but he kept his gaze on the open stretch of field between the highway and the farmhouse.
“Shayla, have you heard of the Dark Knights?”
“No. Why?”
He shouldn’t have been surprised; not only was she living in Nashville, but her brother likely wouldn’t mention his association to them, either. Still, he had to know for certain. “You’re sure Duncan didn’t say anything about them?”
“Are you back to that again?” Shayla’s voice was strained. “You should know better than anyone that Duncan would never mention anything related to his undercover work to me.” There was a pause, then she added, “Do you think that’s why he left the Rustic Resort? Because of this Dark Knights thing? What does that even mean?”
“It’s a group of civilian vigilantes who take the law into their own hands to mete out justice when the legal system fails to work.” He glanced back at her. “They’ve been known to kill people who they deem guilty of a crime. And worse, they have support within the police force.”
She glared at him. “Don’t go there,” she warned.
He turned back to stare out at the field, acknowledging it wasn’t the time or the place to interrogate her. The headlights were even brighter now and he felt sure it was Hawk coming to their rescue.
“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Brodie said, breaking the strained silence.
He couldn’t help but smile when he heard Shayla sigh. “Okay, have a few fish crackers.”
Without taking his gaze off the field, Mike said, “Remind me to stop at the store tomorrow so we can stock up on crackers.”
For a moment there was nothing but the sound of Brodie chewing and swallowing.
“Do you see anyone out there?” she asked.
“The sports car is gone. No sign of anyone on foot, either. This is Hawk coming to get us now.”
The twin headlights turned toward the farmhouse as Hawk drove through the open field the same way Mike had done earlier. The headlights illuminated the area enough that Mike could see that no one else was out there.
Hawk’s arrival must have scared the gunmen off. Mike stood, reholstered his gun and faced Shayla. “We can head outside now, they’re gone.”
“The bad guys are gone?” Brodie repeated, his mouth stained orange from the cheesy crackers.
“Yes, they’re gone,” Mike repeated, wishing once again he could pull his son into his arms. “You and your mom are safe with me.”
The boy nodded and rested his head on Shayla’s shoulder. “’Kay.”
He turned on his phone flashlight again, illuminating the way through the rickety old farmhouse. They went back outside in time to see Hawk pulling in behind Mike’s SUV.
“I saw them take off,” Hawk said. “I wanted to follow, but knew I needed to come here. And I was too far away to get a license plate number.” Then he let out a low whistle. “I see they hit your car.”
Mike went over to see what Hawk was talking about. The bullet hole was located to the right of the back of the car.
The passenger side.
His stomach knotted with fear as he realized how close Brodie’s car seat had come to being hit.
How close he’d come to losing the son he’d just discovered he had.
* * *
Shayla shifted Brodie into her arms, bracing the bulk of his weight on her hip. He was heavy and she hadn’t wanted to put him down in the grimy farmhouse.
Her phone buzzed in her purse and she fished around for it. Her heart quickened when she recognized the number for the hospital.
“Hello?” she quickly answered.
“Ms. O’Hare? This is Dr. Torres.”
“What’s wrong? Is my dad okay?” She couldn’t imagine why her dad’s surgeon would be calling her so late.
“Everything is fine,” he said reassuringly. “In fact, he’s doing so much better that I’d like to move up his surgery to first thing tomorrow morning.”
“So soon?” She couldn’t decide if this was good news or bad. “But—I thought you were worried about his blood pressure.”
“He’s been stable all day and I think it’s best we get in to replace his cardiac arteries as soon as possible.”
She couldn’t help glancing at Mike, who’d come over to stand beside her. Despite being at odds earlier, she appreciated his support now. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate the call.”
“He’s scheduled for first thing in the morning,” Dr. Torres went on. “And I expect he’ll be back in his room in the cardiac intensive care unit by noon if you want to visit.”
“I’ll be there.” She wanted to be there early to see her dad off, but wasn’t sure that was feasible. “Can I talk to my dad?”
“Of course. I’ll have the nurse transfer this call into his room.” There was another long pause, then more ringing.
“Hello?” Her dad’s hoarse voice made her eyes sting with tears.
“Hi, Dad. It’s Shayla. I hear you’re having surgery tomorrow morning.”
“Yep, that’s the plan. How are you and Brodie doing? I thought you were coming back here tonight.”
Unwilling to add to her father’s stress level, she decided against telling him about the episodes of gunfire. “Brodie’s being fussy, so we’ll come in tomorrow, okay? I’ll see you after surgery.”
“Sounds good.” Was it her imagination or did her father’s voice sound weaker? “I’ll look forward to seeing you, Brodie and Duncan tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll be there,” she promised, feeling sick at the thought it was likely Duncan wouldn’t be. “I love you, Dad. Get better soon.”
“I will. Hug my grandson for me.”
“Done. Good night.” She disconnected, feeling awful about not being there for her dad. She closed her eyes and dropped her chin to rest on Brodie’s head. What if something happened and he didn’t survive his surgery?
“He’ll be all right,” Mike said in a low voice. “We’ll pray for him.”
She hadn’t grown up with God and faith the way the Callahans had. But she nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Okay.” Mike put his hand on her back and bowed his head. “Dear Lord, we ask that You keep Ian O’Hare safe in Your care as he undergoes surgery at Trinity Medical Center. Amen.”
“Amen,” she whispered. It felt weird to pray out loud, with Mike standing beside her, but she couldn’t deny feeling a little better afterward. “Thanks, Mike.”
“Anytime.” He hesitated and then added, “Listen, Shayla, I’d like you to get rid of your phone. I’m worried that the gunmen may be using it to track your movements.”
“What?” Her head snapped up, all sense of peace instantly vaporized. “I can’t do that. This is the only number the hospital has to reach me.”
“It’s okay, we’ll give them my number so that we’ll still be accessible.” He gently pried her phone from her hand. “Trust me on this, okay? These devices have GPS tracking imbedded inside. We can’t risk the possibility of being found.”
“Mike’s right about that,” Hawk piped up. “Best to smash it to pieces and leave it behind.”
Her brain told her they were right, but her heart wanted to rail at Mike for taking away the meager connection she had to her father.
And to her brother. Without her phone, Duncan wouldn’t have any way to contact her if he needed to be rescued.
“Shayla? Please?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “What’s your number? I want to call the hospital right now to make sure they have it.”
He provided the information and she used his phone to make the call. She left his cell number with her dad’s nurse and then called her dad’s room again, to make sure he had it, as well. Her dad asked why she was with Mike, and she assured him they were just friends catching up. He seemed to accept her response. It occurred to her that Duncan might call the hospital, even her father, to find a way to reach her if her phone didn’t work.
“Good night, Shayla.”
“Good night, Dad.” She sighed, handed the phone back to Mike and hitched Brodie up again, ignoring the screaming protest of her arm muscles.
“Do you want me to carry him?” Mike offered.
Despite her fatigue, she shook her head. “He doesn’t know you. I don’t want him to be afraid.”
Mike’s disappointment was palpable and she was reminded of the fact that, as Brodie’s father, he was well within his rights to hold his son.
But not yet. Not until Brodie had a chance to get used to Mike.
“We’ll swap rides,” Hawk said, holding out his keys.
“No, driving my SUV will only put you in danger,” Mike protested. “I’ll grab Brodie’s car seat and we’ll go together.”
Hawk frowned. “I’m not sure leaving your ride here is a good idea. They could come back to run the plates, find out who you are.”
Shayla froze. “I don’t like that idea.”
“I’m not sure it’s drivable, hitting the rock damaged the front axle. I’ll arrange to have it towed,” Mike assured her.
“Call now,” Hawk advised. “You don’t know how long it will take for the tow truck to get here.”
Shayla leaned against the busted SUV in an attempt to disperse Brodie’s weight. Mike called the tow truck, then took the car seat out and buckled it into Hawk’s SUV.
“Ready?” Mike asked, looking at Shayla and then at Hawk.
She nodded and gratefully set Brodie into his car seat with a muffled groan. After making sure he was secure, she went around to slide into the seat beside him, leaving Mike to take the front passenger seat.
“Where to?” Hawk asked as he began the rocky drive through the farmer’s field.
Mike didn’t answer right away. “What do you think about us spending some time at your cabin?” he finally asked. “It’s safer and closer than going back to the city.”
“Good idea,” Hawk agreed. “I was there last weekend, so there’s plenty of supplies and nonperishable food.”
A cabin? She hoped it was in better shape than the farmhouse had been.
“Don’t worry, there’s indoor plumbing,” Hawk said as if reading her mind. He captured her gaze in the rearview mirror. “And it’s relatively clean.”
“Thank you,” she said, feeling bad about her unkind thoughts. “I appreciate you helping us out.”
“Yeah, the Callahans owe me big-time and I have every intention on finding a way to collect.”
“I’m sure you will,” Mike agreed dryly.
Brodie yawned, his head tilting to one side. His eyelids fluttered despite the jostling of the SUV as Hawk made his way through the field.
She put a reassuring hand on his legs to steady him during the rough ride. At least it wasn’t as scary as running from the gunmen.
When they reached the road, Shayla finally relaxed in her seat, feeling safe for the first time in hours. On one hand, her father was doing well enough to have surgery. But on the other, Duncan was still missing.
The ride to Hawk’s cabin took less than twenty minutes. His driveway wasn’t paved, but wasn’t nearly as bad as driving through the field had been.
“Give us a minute while we get the lights,” Mike said.
She nodded, battling a wave of exhaustion. Hopefully, Brodie wouldn’t wake up when she carried him inside.
When the lights went on in the cabin, she pushed open her door and slid out. She walked around to the other side so she could unbuckle Brodie.
“Shay?” Mike’s voice was soft and husky beside her. “Will you allow me to carry him inside?”
She hesitated but then nodded, taking a step back to give him room. Mike slid his broad hands beneath Brodie and carefully lifted him out of the seat, cradling him against his chest.
Their son wiggled around a bit but didn’t wake up.
Mike surprised her by pressing a kiss to Brodie’s temple as he carried him inside the cabin. Her heart fluttered at the picture they made together, father and son, both having the same dark hair, with the cowlick that refused to lie flat.
This was it, she thought, shivering as she followed them inside. The point where life as she’d previously known it ended and a new life full of unknowns began.
From this moment on, she’d have to share Brodie with his father.