“One.” Trev gave the final number just as the nose of the truck was level with the exit. “Go, go, go.”
Caleb slammed on the brakes, then whipped into the street Trev had mentioned. Rose leaned hard to the side; only the seatbelt kept her in place. “Okay, where to?” he asked Trev.
“Go straight, then take the second left, then right again to get back on the freeway, and go back the way you came unless I see something better before then. I’m still looking,” Trev instructed. “Plates come back to a rental paid for one Janek Nawrocki out of DC.”
Rose’s harsh inhale sounded louder than she’d probably intended to, and Caleb narrowed his eyebrows. “What does that mean?” He glanced in the rearview mirror, and thankfully, all he saw behind them was an empty road, at least back to the last turn.
“I don’t?—”
“Not you, Trev.” He cut him off. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Rose, what does that name mean to you?”
“No—nothing.”
She was lying through her teeth. He didn’t think she realized she was now as paler than Casper after a flour bath. “Liar.” He called her out softly and hit the locks with his elbow when her hand reached for the door. What the heck was she going to do, jump out while he was speeding through the streets of Riverton? Hell no, he liked her pretty neck too much to allow her to break it by pulling a stupid stunt like that.
“I can’t find any connections to Nawrocki and the name Rose,” Trev supplied helpfully over the phone, dragging a distressed noise from Caleb’s passenger. “I’ve cross-referenced all the usual channels.” The sound of furious typing filtered through the phone. Clearly, Trev was still searching for intel.
“Shit.”
“Bro, there’s an underground parking lot coming up on your right,” Trev said. “Take it; code is one seven zero four.”
Harsh breathing next to him told him Rose was panicking. He didn’t bother responding to Trev. Their comms tech could see his truck on the street cameras and knew what he was doing. He hit the button for the window and tapped the code into the device. “Come on, come on,” he told the barrier. “Lift, damn it.” He barely waited for it to rise high enough before he was through and flipped off his lights to make it less obvious where he’d gone from the street outside.
“I’ll keep an eye on the dude,” Trev said helpfully. “You figure that out.”
His unspoken instructions were clear. It was up to Caleb to figure out who Nawrocki was and why he was following the wedding photographer. He drove to the back of the parking lot and reversed the truck into a spot in case they needed to make a fast getaway. Fallujah style when parking was always best.
6
He found me.
Shit.
Run.
Hide.
How did he find me?
“Breathe.”
A hand wrapped around the back of her neck, and Rose fought against it. She’d never be trapped again. She dug her fingers into the hand.
“Hey, easy baby. It’s me, Caleb.”
I must get free.
She whimpered and kept struggling as the fingers stroked the side of her neck. Her chest hurt with the need for air, but she couldn’t seem to draw any into her lungs. Panic engulfed her, sweeping past all the training she’d forced herself to do in the previous months and overriding what she’d hoped would have become second nature so much for all the self-help books she’d bought, which were supposed to build confidence. When the crap hit the fan, a person would fall back into what they’d always done—in her case, fall apart at the drop of a hat.
“You’re safe. I got you. Easy. You’re safe,” the voice crooned close to her ear. “I promise I’ll keep you safe. It’s Caleb. Look at me, baby. Look at me.”
Why does he sound so calm and not angry? He never ever sounds calm or nice.
She blew out a shaky breath, striving for calm.
“Breathe, baby,” the voice crooned. “Look at me.”
The words finally sank in. She couldn’t resist the order and did as the voice asked. She lifted her eyelids, then reared back when she met hazel eyes instead of the brown she’d been expecting.
