OWEN SAT up shakily. There was glass everywhere, but somehow, the window next to him was intact. Mia was crying like her life was ending, and he didn’t blame her. He held her close. There didn’t seem to be any glass on either of them.
“Are you hurt? Or Mia?” Lucas’s voice was strained but strong.
“No,” Owen said, breathing shakily. “But I don’t know how.”
“And the glass?” Lucas growled.
“It’s all over the other side.” He didn’t bother saying how dangerous this was. He had a seven-month-old in his lap—he reached over and pulled the seat belt across them both—and he didn’t know where they were going or what Lucas was going to do. He shushed Mia, who was inconsolable, and then Bailey pushed through the two front seats to get to them. Owen leaned over and made sure there was no glass on the seat, and Bailey determinedly curled up next to him. Mia instantly quieted. “What happened?”
“I thought we were going to get blocked by a cop car. He came from the other direction, but I swerved at the last second, and he sideswiped Malvetti’s goons. Cops pulled up, but the Mercedes fishtailed. I don’t know what happened to the second car after we cleared the houses.” Lucas shifted in his seat, glanced behind him, and pulled out to overtake a car.
“Where are we?” It was dark, and Owen had no clue.
“It’s the back way toward Greeley.” He hesitated. “We’re close to Jacko’s, but—”
“He won’t be back yet, and you can’t involve anyone else,” Owen said immediately.
“I agree.” Lucas shifted again and hissed slightly. Owen immediately noticed.
“Are you hurt?” His pulse thudded in his ears.
“Just a scratch,” Lucas said, dismissing it.
Owen bit his lip. “We need a different car. They’ll be looking for this one,” he added unnecessarily.
Lucas nodded, then glanced at the dashboard. “The gas tank was hit.”
“What?”
“And I doubt we have enough fuel to get us much farther. Hang on.” Lucas took the next right turn. Owen glanced down at Mia, who was touching Bailey and seemed happy with that arrangement.
It was dark, and Owen couldn’t see much. “Where are we going?”
“Ted’s garage, or rather, his back lot,” Lucas answered as he slowed, then turned again. There were streetlights this time, and Owen saw that they were on some sort of small-town main street.
After another few seconds, Lucas slowed again and turned left just after a garage. The road widened into a lot, where various cars and a tow truck were parked. Lucas pulled up next to what was obviously a car covered by a tarpaulin. Bailey sat up when the car stopped.
“You have another car here?”
Lucas nodded curtly, and though Owen was burning with a hundred questions, he kept silent. He gathered Mia close and opened his door at the same time Lucas got out of his. Owen heard the hiss of breath again and looked over at Lucas. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Lucas confirmed and walked to the car. He bent and pulled the tarp off, revealing a small Toyota SUV. It was older but looked immaculately maintained. Owen glanced at Lucas. If this was his car, why did he keep it here?
Lucas fished in his pocket and winced. Owen stepped forward. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing. I just got nicked by glass,” Lucas said, dismissing it again and opening the rear door. He called Bailey, and the dog immediately jumped in. Owen peered in and then stilled. A car seat. It had a child’s car seat. It was probably for an older child, since it was front-facing, but it was considerably safer for Mia than sitting on Owen’s knee.
And then Owen understood why the car was here and not at Lucas’s. Or at least, he understood some of it. But he wasn’t about to start asking questions at this point, and he quickly altered the straps and got Mia settled. Bailey had clearly appointed himself the baby’s guardian and nudged until his nose was once again touching her foot. Owen saw Lucas grimace and hold his side as he reached to pull the tarp over their getaway car, and he scrambled out to help. They soon had the Escalade covered. Lucas reached into his pocket for his cell phone and shot off a quick text, and then he dropped it on the ground and stamped on it. He looked up.
“Ted will have someone come and take the car out for a drive today. I just wanted to warn him not to bother looking and I would explain later.”
“And he won’t?” Owen asked, understanding phones could still be traced even turned off. It looked like Lucas was going to send Damien on a wild goose chase. Smart…. He followed Lucas back to the Toyota and got into the back seat next to Mia.
“No, he won’t.” Lucas slid in. Owen thought he was moving a little gingerly and wondered if he should offer to drive. “Where are we going?”
Lucas grimaced. “We have a couple of choices. We could go to my friend’s cabin just south of Rock River, as we’d planned. It’s maybe a couple of hours away. Or we could get a motel room.”
“Are you sure no one will come looking for this car?”
“We’re out of options,” Lucas said and started the engine, then headed back to the road. “I guess you’ve worked out that this was my wife’s car. It was returned to me after she died, and I never knew what to do with it. I suppose I should sell it, but…. Anyway….” Lucas cleared his throat. “Ted keeps it here. He looks after it for me.”
“You have some good friends,” Owen said wistfully.
Lucas smiled. “Ted’s youngest got himself into a little trouble a couple of years ago. Trying to impress a girl, he ‘borrowed’ a car his dad was working on and ended up wrapping it around a tree. I was one of the first responders, and I knew the car’s owner. He agreed for me to set a punishment to avoid prosecution.”
Owen smiled, despite how crazy everything was. Maybe he was in shock. “What did you have him do?”
“He washed the engines all summer long, and we even took him on a couple of ride-alongs.”
“That’s great,” Owen enthused as exhaustion washed over him.
“Yep, he’s a probie over in Cheyenne now.”
Owen was silent. He wished he’d had someone like Lucas on his side. Things might have been so different. But then he wouldn’t have Mia, and he wouldn’t swap her for the world. He looked across, and sure enough, her eyes were shut. It was almost guaranteed in a moving car. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was only eight, but it seemed like hours had passed.
“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” Lucas met his gaze as he looked in the mirror, but dark as it was, he couldn’t get a read on him.
“Are you okay? I actually wondered if you wanted me to drive.” He had a feeling Lucas had more than a scratch.
Lucas shook his head. “I promise, if I feel tired, I will let you drive, but I’m going to head for my friend’s cabin. He keeps a key under the mat. It’s a bit of a cliché, but there’s not exactly anything there to steal. I don’t think he visited this summer at all. His kids are teenagers now and want a little more excitement than skinny dipping and fishing.”
Owen hesitated again.
“Trust me,” Lucas said, and Owen didn’t need to see his face this time. He heard it loud and clear, so he shut his eyes.
SOMETIME LATER, the car pulling to a stop woke Owen. He sat up and blinked. They were on a quiet road. It was dark, but in the headlights, he could see the snowcapped mountains in the distance. He covered his mouth as he yawned and glanced in amusement at Mia, who was snoring slightly.
Then he looked at Lucas, and his heart hammered. “Lucas?” He was gray. His lips were drawn tight, and his breathing was shallow. Owen quickly opened his door and hurried over to Lucas’s side. He opened the door, but Lucas didn’t move. “What is it?”
Lucas shook his head and eased his hand away from where it had been pressed against his stomach. It was red. “What the hell?” Owen asked and then clamped his mouth closed before he said anything else. “Let me see,” he added gently, and Lucas nodded, then dropped his hand. Owen bent down and gently eased up Lucas’s sweater. He couldn’t help letting out a slight gasp. The T-shirt was saturated in blood. “Glass did this?”
Lucas shook his head. “I think a bullet caught me. I thought it was glass,” he argued, “but I’m thinking this is worse.”
It was certainly getting worse. “You need a hospital,” Owen said. “Where are we?”
Lucas’s clammy hand covered his. “We can’t go there.”
“You’re hurt,” Owen said gently. “And I watch enough TV to know that if you don’t have a matching wound on your back, the bullet is still in there.” He looked around, wondering if he could bang on someone’s door to use their phone.
“You can’t dial 911,” Lucas groaned as if he was reading his thoughts. Even though it was cold out, Owen could see the beads of sweat on his upper lip.
“We have no choice.” He looked around. “Are we anywhere near an ER? I could drop you at one, and then I guess I could keep going.” Or try. He nearly broke out in sweat himself at the thought of being on his own again. But the risk to Lucas was too great.
“The nearest ER is a good hour away.”
Owen peered up the deserted road, then turned and hurried to the back of the car. He quickly pulled out a fresh diaper, then came back and eased up Lucas’s sweater again. He didn’t want to mess with the T-shirt, so he opened the diaper and pressed it to cover the wound. Lucas went white, but apart from an indrawn breath, he made absolutely no sound.
“I’m going to have to find someone and call 911,” he repeated. “This is serious, and as much as I don’t know who to trust, we are definitely out of options.”
“No,” Lucas said weakly.
Owen bent down. “Lucas, we’re out of choices here, and I refuse to let you die.” The last word came out far too high-pitched, and Owen bit his lip.
Unbelievably, Lucas chuckled.
“It’s not funny,” Owen said.
“No,” Lucas agreed with a sigh. He opened his mouth but seemed to falter, then nodded as if he’d made a decision. “I know someone. He’s a doctor.” Lucas seemed to be forcing the words out, and Owen couldn’t tell if it was because of the pain he was in, or if he didn’t want to involve anyone else. “He doesn’t live that far away from here.” Lucas rattled off an address. “Just head down here five miles and then turn right at the crossroads. There’s a track just after, that climbs for about another mile. His cabin is at the top, and it’s the only one.” Lucas closed his eyes again, as if the effort to talk had been too much.
Owen thought quickly. There weren’t any houses on this deserted stretch, and even if he called 911, the ER was an hour away, and it would likely take an ambulance at least that long. He didn’t think Lucas could wait.
“I need you to get out of the car,” Owen said, making up his mind. The central console was too high for Lucas to climb over, and the least amount of movement he made, the better. Lucas opened his eyes and nodded.
Owen bent down and gently eased Lucas’s legs out of the car, and then put his arm around Lucas. “On three,” he instructed. He was strong, but Lucas was huge, and Owen had to take nearly all his weight. He doubted Lucas would have enough room between the car seat, Mia, and the dog, so he walked him the extra couple of steps around the hood and got him into the front passenger seat. He made sure the seat belt was tight across the padding covering his wound and hoped the five miles wouldn’t take long.
“How do you know he’ll be there?” Owen asked, glancing at Lucas as he accelerated.
“He’ll be there,” Lucas mumbled, and his hand fell away from where he was pressing on the wound. Owen kept his eyes forward but reached over with his other hand.
“Lucas, keep it pressed in,” he urged. When he got no reply, he glanced over. Lucas had his eyes closed, and his head lolled to one side. Icy fingers tickled Owen’s spine. “Lucas,” Owen cried. He sped up. “Lucas!” No answer. He drove forward as Lucas had instructed and started seeing a few cabins set back from the road, but the place was pretty much deserted. Owen bit his lip. He didn’t dare go too fast. He didn’t know where he was. The night had been icy. Mia was in the back, but he needed to get Lucas to this doctor as quickly as he could.
Just what he would do if the doctor wasn’t there when he arrived, he didn’t know.
Heart hammering, Owen turned onto a gravel road. The car listed as the wheel drove in a deep rut he couldn’t avoid, and Lucas moaned. “Hang on,” Owen whispered, torn between wanting to keep both hands on the wheel and one hand pressed to Lucas’s side. He squinted as they rounded some trees and he arrived at the T-junction. The track was a little harder to see, and he nearly missed it, but they climbed steadily until Owen saw smoke curling from a chimney. He brought the car to a stop outside a cabin and jumped out shouting for help as he ran around to Lucas’s side.
He heard the cabin door open. “Lucas is hurt,” he yelled. “It might be a bullet, but he won’t go to a hospital.” He yanked the door open, and Lucas seemed paler, if that was even possible.
“Bring him in,” a gruff voice ordered. Owen turned to tell the man he needed help to move Lucas, then froze. For what seemed like forever but was barely three heartbeats, he just stared at the man.
Then the man pushed the wheelchair he was sitting in backward. “Well? I can’t come get him.”
And the words kicked Owen back into gear. He bent and shook Lucas’s shoulder. “Lucas,” he yelled, and Mia woke up and started crying. “Lucas, wake up.” He unclipped the seat belt and lifted Lucas’s legs to swing them around.
“W-what?” Lucas opened his eyes and then hissed in pain.
“We’re here at the doctor’s, but I can’t get you out on my own.” Owen put his palm on Lucas’s cheek, willing him to stay conscious. “Come on.”
Lucas blinked up at him, and Owen wasn’t sure he was taking everything in, but he nodded, and as Owen pulled, Lucas heaved himself out of the car. He swayed, but Owen ducked under his arm to steady him. “It’s not far.”
Lucas didn’t answer, but they made it into the cabin. Owen had a second to appreciate the roaring fire and the heat blazing from it and saw the couch in front of him just as Lucas sagged against him.
The man in the wheelchair nodded to the couch but remained silent. Lucas took a step and his legs folded. By sheer force of will, Owen got him to the couch, and the man wheeled himself immediately closer. “Go get your kid quickly, because I’m going to need some help.”
Owen suddenly became aware of Mia’s indignant cries, and he shot back out of the cabin to the car. He grabbed the diaper bag from the back and ran around to the other side, letting Bailey jump out, and then bent in to quickly unstrap Mia. She stopped crying immediately, and Owen hurried back inside with her. The man was wheeling himself back to the couch with a box balanced on his knee. He looked up. “I need hot water. There’s a kettle on the stove. Get me the scissors out of the first drawer on the left and a plastic bowl from the cupboard.”
Owen put Mia on the floor, and she seemed happy next to Bailey, and then he hurried to do what he was told. The man took the scissors from him and started cutting away Lucas’s T-shirt. Lucas was lying—eyes closed—seeming unconscious.
The man peeled the diaper off the wound, and Owen swallowed and turned away.
“There’s some forceps in the box. Disinfect them.” He nodded to the plastic box on his knee.
Owen steeled himself to obey and quickly lifted the box and opened it, unscrewing the cap on the bottle of disinfectant, then tipped it liberally into the bowl and over the forceps. His mind was running a mile a minute with questions. This man hadn’t even introduced himself, and he hadn’t asked who Owen was, hadn’t asked what had happened to Lucas. Owen filled a glass bowl with the boiled water and brought it over.
“My name’s Owen,” he said as he handed over the forceps. The man paused and pulled on a pair of gloves, then ripped open a big sterile pad. He took the forceps and bent down to peer at the jagged edges of the hole in Lucas’s side. He pressed on the side of the wound and carefully inserted the forceps, and Lucas moaned but stayed still, then his body went slack again. Minutes later, after a bit of fishing around, he pulled out what was obviously a bullet. The man studied it for a second.
“It’s in one piece,” he pronounced, and dropped it onto the diaper, which was also on the floor. Owen went back into the kitchen area and picked up a trash can, then brought it back to the couch. He brushed off the fact that the man still hadn’t either acknowledged him or introduced himself. He had other things to worry about. He glanced over at Mia, who was watching them and playing with Bailey’s ear. She seemed completely unfazed.
The man dabbed the wound, but even Owen could tell that, apart from the gush when the bullet had come out, the bleeding was slowing. “It really needs suturing, but Steri-Strips will have to do,” the man murmured to himself, and quickly changed his gloves, then tore open a small packet and applied thin plastic strips to close the hole. He tore open more sterile pads and a bandage to hold them against Lucas’s blood-encrusted skin, managing to get it underneath and around him, wrapped securely. Then he leaned back and looked critically at Lucas.
“Could be worse. He needs antibiotics. You can both stay here until he wakes up, and then I can give you a prescription to pick up as you head out of town.”
“You want us to leave?” Owen blurted, then flushed. “I’m sorry, of course you do.” It was obvious that Lucas didn’t want the bullet wound reported.
The man glanced at Owen, and Owen was rendered silent by the pain reflected in those dark hazel eyes. “Trust me, Lucas won’t want to stay as soon as he wakes up and realizes he’s here. He must have been desperate to come here in the first place.” It wasn’t a question, so Owen stayed silent while the man put the things he hadn’t used back in the box. Owen bent and picked up the trash. There was blood everywhere. On Lucas, on the couch.
“Thank you.” Owen offered his hand, and the man’s eyebrows rose. The expression reminded him so much of Lucas that he suddenly realized they had to be related, but the man’s bushy beard and mustache made it difficult to tell.
“You’re welcome,” the man answered finally and took Owen’s hand. “And I’m Mark.” He wheeled the chair into the small kitchen and put the box away. He hesitated and looked over at Mia. “Help yourself to anything you need for her.” He eyed the fireplace and the empty dog crate in the corner. “That crate actually opens up as if you were going to flat pack it. I guess it would make some sort of fireguard if she’s crawling around. You might want to move the furniture too.”
Owen followed his gaze and went to wash his hands. He opened the crate, wondering how to make a safe play area for her. Mia’s lip wobbled a little, and Owen guessed she was hungry. He quickly changed her soggy diaper and then filled the kettle again. He had some powdered milk, but then opening the cupboards, he spotted some instant oats and decided to heat some regular milk and leave hers for emergency. In no time, Mia was full, but unfortunately now she wanted to explore. He eyed the crate and the fireplace, which was set back and seemed to take up the whole end wall. He doubted it would safely cover all of it. He quickly dragged a stuffed chair at a right angle to the sofa and opened the crate up at each side, flattening it, then tucked it across the small opening. It meant Mia had a safe space on the floor, wedged between the wall and the furniture. He gathered up her teddy and a few teething rings, which were the only toys he had, and put her in the makeshift playpen.
She cooed and stuck out her fingers to Bailey, who was watching with interest. “B-bee.”
Owen shook his head. “I can’t, sweetie.” Bailey stood up and cocked his head toward her, and then with a bound that looked too big for an older dog to make, he was in the playpen with Mia and immediately lay down next to her. Owen threw his hands in the air. “What am I going to do with you two?”
He glanced over at Lucas and decided the next thing he would do was try and make him a little more comfortable. Mia was batting the dog with her teddy, and Bailey didn’t seem to mind in the least, so he emptied the bowl of disinfectant, refilled it with soapy water, and grabbed some dry cloths he would normally use for sticky hands from the diaper bag.
Lucas was still asleep. Or at least, he hoped he was asleep. But Mark was a doctor, and he hadn’t seemed too worried. He eased Lucas’s arms out of his sweatshirt, and using the same scissors, he cut away the rest of the ruined T-shirt. Then he pulled the strips of material from his shoulders and set about cleaning as much of Lucas as he could reach. He knew there would be some under him, but a bit of blood wasn’t going to kill him, whereas moving him unnecessarily and starting the bleeding again, might.
He gently but thoroughly washed all of Lucas’s chest, belly, and arms, and wiped the couch. It was a long time since he had seen any part of a man’s naked body. Exactly five months. He wished it had been longer and pushed the memory back down.
“Here.”
Owen jumped slightly. He hadn’t even heard Mark come back in, and he turned to see Mark wheeling himself in with a T-shirt and a sweater over his lap.
“Thank you,” Owen said and stood up, then took the bowl to the sink.
“Let’s try and move him as little as possible. Like I said, he should be sutured.” Mark helped as they gently turned Lucas and redressed him. He never stirred, and Mark touched his fingers to Lucas’s neck. “Was the diaper he had over his wound the first one, or had you changed it?”
“No, it was the first. He said flying glass had nicked him.” Owen looked at the large clock above the fireplace. “He drove for around two hours with it.”
He hadn’t known, but he still felt like shit.
“He wouldn’t have let you drive anyway,” Mark said, as if reading Owen’s mind. “He’s a stubborn bastard.”
Owen risked a question. “Have you known each other long?”
“All his life,” Mark said quietly, but didn’t elaborate. “I’m not too worried about the blood loss, but infection could be an issue.” He glanced at the window, and Owen followed his gaze. The sky was dark, the stars hidden behind heavy clouds. “Where were you heading?”
Owen hesitated, and Mark shook his head. “Never mind.” He glanced over at Mia. “How old is she?”
“Seven months.”
Mark nodded. “I’ll watch them while you move the car. There’s a barn out back. I don’t get many visitors, but I’m guessing you don’t want it seen.” Owen squirmed slightly, and Mark sighed. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but I know there’s only one reason my brother would be desperate enough to come here—”
Brother? Of course.
“And that’s because anywhere else, he would have to report a bullet wound. So go move the damn car before it causes you any more trouble than you are obviously already in.”
Owen went. There was no point arguing. Lucas’s brother? They obviously didn’t get along, because Lucas had never mentioned him. There’s only one reason my brother would be desperate enough to come here.
Owen would have loved to have a brother. He’d often wondered why his parents had bothered even having him, because as soon as he didn’t live up to their carefully crafted image—actually, make that sooner, since he’d had a steady stream of nannies—they had given up on him. He didn’t care what Mia wanted to do when she was older. Nothing would ever make him stop loving her. He drove the car around the back of the house and parked it in the barn. Then he hurried back to the house, and feeling the cold on his cheek, he looked up.
It was snowing. Crap. Now what did they do?