32

Jodie put her hand to her head. Don’t lose it now. ‘No, no, not Angie. It’s too late for Angie. I . . . I . . .’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ Matt’s face dawned with some sort of realisation. He sat back, pushed both hands through his hair. ‘Okay, Jodie. It’s okay.’ He stopped, took a breath. ‘Look, I know you’ve been through something terrible. I’ve seen the scars. I don’t know what happened but I know it was bad and I know you’re scared. And I wish to God this wasn’t happening right now. But it is. So listen to me.’ He reached out, put his hand on her arm, then let it slide down to her hand and twisted his fingers with hers.

They were warm and reassuring. He thought that’s what she needed. He thought she was scared, that she needed reassurance she’d be safe out there in the bush. He was wrong. He’d seen scars but only the ones on her skin. He thought she was frightened of having a knife plunged into her belly again. She wasn’t. That thought didn’t even rate.

‘Are you listening?’ he said.

Jodie looked away. He was going to try to convince her. She didn’t want to be convinced.

‘Your friends need help. They need the cops to come and get them out. I’m not the person they need. I’m not. I can’t do it. And I won’t make it down to the road on this knee. You have to go. There’s no other way.’

Sweat was cold on her face. Her lungs were so tight she could hardly breathe. She looked up towards the barn. Tears welled in her eyes.

Run, Jodie. Before they come back.

Oh God, God, God. She’d promised Angie. She’d vowed she would never, ever leave a friend behind again. Now Matt was telling her she had to. There was no other way. Her head was spinning, roaring. Part of her wanted to leap up and charge through the bush, run like a banshee down to the house on the road, call the police, cars and cars of them with sirens and lights that would scream up here and save her friends. Just like Matt said.

But she heard herself, too. The road’s just through the trees. I can run that in under a minute. Flag someone down. Get help. She shook her head, an aggressive back and forth, trying to shake out the memory that pierced her like a knife. The knife that had cut Angie’s throat when Jodie had run eighteen years ago.

‘You can do this, Jodie. You’re fast. I’ve seen you. You’ll be there in ten minutes. Twelve max. Don’t think about it. Just run.’ He took hold of both of her hands, made her look at him. ‘Just run, Jodie.’

She sat on her haunches, heard his words again in her head, felt as though a hypnotist had snapped his fingers. One second her head was spinning and roaring. The next there was silence.

It wasn’t shock and she wasn’t deaf. It was just cool, calm silence. Matt had said the words she’d feared the most – Run, Jodie – and everything dropped into focus. He’d done her a huge favour. She felt better than she had since they’d been forced off the road on Friday night. As though she’d reached beyond her fear and found herself again. She took a long breath of cold night air and felt steely resolve settle in her bones.

‘I’m not leaving my friends. I’m staying here and we’re going to find another way to get them out.’

Matt was angry. He was totally in awe of her and mad as hell at her. ‘Jesus Christ, Jodie. Don’t do this. You have to go. You can’t be here.’

He’d watched her struggle through what could only be intensely painful memories. He’d thought that whatever she’d gone through to get those scars would make her want to get out of the firing line – and he’d have one hostage home free. But now she was putting her hand up and asking to stay. He felt the edge of panic stir in his chest. Her guts of steel were going to be a lead weight around his neck.

They both stiffened as footsteps sounded on the deck again. First one set, then the second. Both brothers.

‘Wiseman! You’re a chicken shit,’ Kane yelled. ‘Get out here so I can put you out of your misery.’

His high-pitched laugh was overlaid with Travis’s lower, abrupt words. ‘Fuck you, Wiseman.’

Matt turned to Jodie. Kane and Travis were going to run out of things to yell soon and he wanted Jodie gone by the time they changed tack.

‘Get the hell out of here,’ he hissed at her. ‘Let me get at least one of you out alive.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘We’re all getting out.’

‘No, we’re not.’ He made it sound like a statement of fact. Meant it to scare the crap out of her.

She shoved him hard in the chest. ‘You bastard! You’ve given up on them.’

Anger blazed from her eyes. She wasn’t going to go. He could see it. She was dug in, defiant, stubborn as hell. And now it was back to four lives in his hands.

‘Fuck, fuck.’ He spat the words into the darkness. He raked his hands across his head, kicked viciously at the dirt. He needed to get up and stalk around, throw something, but he couldn’t, not with Kane and Travis on the verandah waiting for a head to shoot at. Not with four lives he could fuck up.

Jodie said nothing. What could she say? The guy she thought was going to save her friends was falling apart. She thought he was some kind of goddamn hero. And now she’d put herself in his hands. She didn’t know it but he was the guy voted most likely to get her killed.

‘Hey, tough bitch. Do you a deal.’ It was Travis this time. ‘Get up here and I’ll let your friend go. The one that’s bleeding. She looks real bad, you know. Don’t think she’ll last much longer. You better get out here.’

Jodie rose to a squat, like a sprinter on her blocks. Matt glanced at her and in that half a second everything got a whole lot worse. Because in his head, he saw her cooking that steak. He saw himself eating the damn thing. He saw her naked, wrapped around him, watching him with those amazing eyes. And it made everything worse. Because he wanted to be in that picture. Because he had no weapon. Because he could barely walk. Because he’d spent the last six months avoiding anything remotely cop-like. All he had now to keep Jodie and her friends alive was his instincts.

His fucking, fucked-up instincts.

‘Listen to me,’ Matt whispered. She had to know. ‘I haven’t given up on your friends. But I’m not who you think I am. People died because of me. I don’t want your blood on my hands, too. I need to know you’re safe. You’ve already done more than most. You saved my life. I won’t forget that. Now get the hell out of here. Please.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Matt. Shut up.’ She looked at him with hard eyes. ‘It’d take the police half an hour to get here on a good night. My friends will be dead by then. And I’m not going to wait down on the road just to hear that piece of news. Not again, you got that?’

Again? What the hell had happened to her? Whatever it was, it’d turned her into a raging tiger. And right now, she was making him ashamed of his own fear.

She pointed a finger at him. ‘You have no idea what I’ve been through. I am not most people. And I don’t care how safe you want me to be. Last time I ran for help, my best friend was murdered. This time I’m not leaving. If people died because of you, then you need to do it better this time, Matt. Because I have no idea if this is the right decision but it’s the only one I can live with. So get the hell over it and tell me what the fuck we’re going to do now.’

Man, she had more guts than most of the cops he knew. And she was going to make him stare his own history down. She wasn’t giving him a choice. She wasn’t taking any excuses. ‘Okay. Tell me about the barn.’

Over their heads, Kane and Travis took turns shouting obscenities while Jodie told him everything she knew about the building. Seven years ago, it had been one big room so she walked him through the new layout. She had great recall, knew what was worth noting – which way doors opened, what was in cupboards, places to conceal a person.

‘Ever thought of being a cop?’ he said.

‘I’ve seen what they have to do. No, thanks.’ She paused. ‘Look, Matt. I just want to get my friends out. I know you want justice for that teenage girl. I do too. I want it for all of us. But I think we should let Kane and Travis dig up what they came for and leave. Keep them away from my friends and let the police hunt them down when we’re all out safe.’

Matt thought about the holes in the dirt under the barn, wondered what else the Anderson brothers had buried there. Tina, for sure. A large metal box. Was there more? He wanted Jodie’s friends out. That was a given. But he wasn’t going to leave it up to a police roadblock to find Travis and Kane. They’d lived in this area most of their lives, they knew how to get away without being found. No, Matt was determined to make sure they were stopped this time. ‘Absolutely.’

Three minutes later, Jodie stood and warmed up her legs for the run.

‘No heroics, Jodie. Just like we talked about, okay? Then come straight back.’

‘That goes for you, too.’ She narrowed her eyes, tried to look stern but he could see the fear in them. ‘Don’t be a hero.’

‘Absolutely,’ he said again. She was stretching her quads, standing right in front of him. He wanted to take hold of her, tell her if she never saw him again, she should know he was grateful to be doing something. He just looked at her instead, in her dirty sweater with her funky short hair and her huge dark eyes.

She stepped forward and kissed him. Not a peck on the cheek. Nothing remotely like that. Not even long and lingering, the way he’d have done it if he’d had a better time and place to kiss her for the first time. She took his face in her hands and kissed him fast and hard and desperately. Her fingers were freezing and her mouth was hot. It was a sensational combination. He caught her around the waist as she pulled away, hauled her against him and kissed her right back. He ditched the fast bit but stayed with hard and desperate, cupped her face with one hand and held her against him with the other. It was a damn fine first kiss.

When they were done, she stepped away and looked him over again. She smiled a little. ‘Don’t forget I promised you that steak.’

‘You cook. I eat. It’s a deal. Now shut up and run.’ He turned away from her so he wouldn’t change his mind and drag her back. Watched over his shoulder as she disappeared into the dark bush.

He checked his watch. She’d said six minutes.

But it was five minutes too long.