Chapter 9
Jack sped up the on ramp, merging into traffic with the sedan right on their tails. A few more shots rang out and Callie couldn’t stifle her screams. Moving over to the left, he got into the faster moving traffic. Her eyes swung to the road in front of them. The cars were all slowing down. Construction signs flashed on the side of the road.
Crap. They were stuck in stopped traffic. Her eyes scanned the nearest sign. Next exit, a mile. Baldy now leaned out the back window behind the driver’s seat aiming for them as they approached in the right lane. And Jack was slowing the bike down.What the hell? Go in between the cars. It’s a tight squeeze but we can do it.
He slowed still more. What was he doing? They’d be killed. The balance of the bike shifted. The Jersey barrier. Right there. A break in it. Was he…?
Yes, he pulled a U-ey. Right onto the highway heading north. He straightened the motorcycle out as the wind ripped through them, racing down the near-empty road in the opposite direction. She twisted enough to see the sedan, well and truly stuck. Baldy’s face contorted in rage, his hand holding the gun out the window.
Sagging against Jack as the immediate danger passed, she was afraid to unclench her cramped fingers from his shirt front. The sights and smells of the city gave way to the lighter traffic of the Parkway. More greenery appeared and fewer buildings. It was all a blur as her mind raced through the near-death experience. When he slowed the bike down and pulled into a rest area she managed to rouse from her coma-like state.Jack slipped his fingers under hers and loosened her grip.
“Where are we?” she asked, pulling off the helmet. She pushed the hood off her sweaty head as Jack took the helmet from her and looped it on the handlebars of the bike.
* * * *
Jack swung his leg over the side of the bike and arched his back, groaning. Callie slid off too, repeating the action. His eyes darted back and forth, noting the rest area was empty. Good, he didn’t need too many people around and it looked like they hadn’t been followed. “We’re about twenty minutes from your house, in Waterbury.”
Callie ran her hands through her hair, looking at him like a lost child. God, this should not have happened. How in the world did someone spot them in Central Park? Or know he was going to be there? The people shooting at them sure seemed ready for them. It wasn’t some random sighting.
“I…um…left my car in Danbury,” she stammered, her lip trembling. Always so strong, his Callie. Wanting to keep it together even in the wake of being shot at. When he reached out to touch her shoulders, she melted into his arms. Her body shook—her breathing shallow and quick.
“Don’t worry about your car. I’ll have Scott get it for you. Right now you need to be home to rest.”
The shaking didn’t subside so he continued to hold her. This had been his desire for so long, though not for these reasons. But he’d take anything he could get. Her soft body molded to his and he breathed in the floral scent that was Callie.
“I’m sorry, Calico, I never should have asked you to meet me in New York City. That was stupid. I figured the city was big enough that no one would even notice I was there. Someone knew. Either Steve can’t be trusted, or I was spotted this morning with him and they followed me. Either way, I’m sorry.”
Her head nodded, though she didn’t move away from his embrace. If holding her was what she needed, then he wanted to be there for her. It was the least he could do as he hadn’t been around to help her with anything else in the past and this was his fault. The thought he needed to remove himself from Callie and Jonathan’s lives pounded in his head once more. It was the only way to protect them from danger. But if he did, he might as well end his life; there’d be no reason to go on living.
Jack gave her a few more minutes of comfort then eased away. “Are you ready to get back on?”
“I think so.” Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her shaking hands. “I guess I’m not in any shape to be driving now, anyway. I’m sorry I’m such a baby about this. I feel like the cowardly lion.”
“Calico,” he said, sliding his fingers into her loose curls. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Believe me, I’m shaken too. I know how to hide it better, that’s all. It’s a man thing. Not allowed to get emotional. They’ll kick us out of the Man Club.”
She chuckled at his stupid joke and he leaned over, pressing his lips to hers. A desperation born from fear rocketed though him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He kissed her harder, assaulting her mouth.You’re frightening her. Back off.But before he could, she grabbed his head and responded with the same turbulent passion. They held each other close, losing themselves in the other, taking what they needed as a reminder they were alive.
“I was petrified you’d get hurt,” she cried against his mouth as his lips crushed hers. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I know, Calico, I know.” He couldn’t say much more, wanting to make the world perfect for her. If he couldn’t do something about Victor soon he might have to permanently walk away from her and their son. It would break him into pieces but he’d rather die than have them hurt in any way. Today that had almost happened.
Clinging to her, he allowed her time to get her strength and composure back then eased her away. “Come on, let’s get you back home. Jonathan’s probably there already and will want to see his mom.”
Nodding, she slipped onto the back of the bike again. Twenty minutes later, he guided the motorcycle to the woods behind her house. Helping her off the back, he removed the helmet she’d worn. Self-consciously, she pushed her hair back and he grinned. She’d always complained about the mass of curls she had. How did she not know how beautiful they were and how much he loved playing with them, especially after all the times he’d told her?
They reached the back door and when they walked in, Heather rushed into the room, her face worried. “Where’s your car? What happened? Jack, why are you here? Weren’t you meeting in New York?”
He placed his hand on Callie’s shoulder. “Yes, but we ran into a little trouble. How is Jonathan?”
Heather looked confused. “Jonathan’s fine. He went down for his nap a few minutes ago. I’m more concerned about you. Why does that look like blood on your shirt?”
Damn, he’d been hoping no one would notice. Callie hadn’t until now. But Heather never let anything get past her. Shrugging, he pulled the shirt away from his side. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch. I need to call Scott to get Callie’s car back from the Danbury Park and Ride.”
Turning to look at him, Callie squinted at the stain near his waistline. “What happened? Was it one of the bullets? Why didn’t you say anything?” She lifted the sleeve of the denim jacket she wore. It was covered in crimson.
“I was holding you the whole time on the bike. You didn’t say anything.”
“I’m fine, Callie. Not worth worrying about. I’ll call Scott while you go check on Jonathan then rest for a bit.”
