Chapter 11
SHELBY’S HEART LEAPT INTO HER throat until she recognized Ava. But who did she work for? Drenched, strands of her long hair whipping in the wind, the woman made a motion to open the window. Shelby only hesitated a moment. She unlocked the window and raised it. Just as Wade had predicted, the wind gushed into the room swirling papers and knocking over a lamp near the desk.
“Hurry. Get out.” Ava already had the screen off.
Shelby didn’t hesitate and lifted her leg over the opening, nervous at how hard the wind made it to get through. One of the men gave her back a little push, and she finally stumbled out. Alan came next, followed by Wade.
“Quick,” Wade said. “They’re at the door.”
“We have to get you away from here.” Ava took Shelby’s arm and began towing her away from the building, the wind now at their backs and pressing them forward.
She stumbled along with the bodyguard. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, until flashes of lightning blinded her temporarily. Ava pressed on. Shivering, Shelby looked over her shoulder. Where were Wade and Alan?
“Where are you taking us?” She didn’t know if the other woman heard the words because Ava didn’t stop. Shelby pulled her arm free and turned back. A branch whipped by and nearly struck her in the face. She ducked and staggered back.
“Do youwantto get caught?” Ava shouted, keeping Shelby from falling.
“Where are Wade and Alan?” Shelby shouted back, peering into the darkness. Nothing. A sick knot twisted in her gut. Had they been caught?
Then a sharp glare of lightning showed two men, one with his arm around the other, stumbling toward them—and another larger group approaching from behind. Her whole body seemed to turn to ice. What had happened to Alan? She dashed toward Wade and Alan, sensing Ava running along with her.
The bodyguard took up position at Alan’s other side, but Shelby shouted, “You lead us.”
She watched with gratitude as the other woman didn’t hesitate but moved ahead and cleared their path. Shelby didn’t even want to think what might be wrong with Alan. He had to be okay.
He didn’t say anything, but his weight seemed to get heavier as they walked. They just kept plodding along, and she had no idea how far they’d gone. All she felt was cold and wet and fear. Then, at another flash of lightning, Ava shoved her to the side. Like a domino set, they crashed into some bushes.
“What the—” Wade began.
“Shh,” Martinez snapped. “They’ll be blinded.”
Shelby understood then; Philip’s men must be close. So they crouched in the copse like scared little rabbits, listening for the sound of Philip and his henchmen. She held her arm around Alan. Her father. Had he had a heart attack? But she didn’t dare speak, even in a whisper, for fear of discovery.
After what seemed an eternity, Ava signaled for them to follow her out the other side of the copse. Alan roused and tried to help them get him to his feet again, but that little effort seemed to take everything out of him. He shuffled in the mud, seeming unable to lift his feet. Wade hefted him over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
Ava led them up a narrow trail, finally stopping before what looked like another copse of bushes. She brushed aside some hanging vines. Shelby recognized the old, abandoned concrete building. Brilliant. Ava opened the door, and Wade stumbled inside.
“Careful,” Ava said. “We left a mess in here.” She turned on her phone, the light nearly blinding them.
As Shelby and Wade made their way through the labyrinth of crates to the back corner, she told herself not to think of rats. He eased Alan onto the cot. She knelt on the small space beside her father and touched his cheek. The skin felt cold even against her frigid hands.
“Masters, help me move this in front of the door.” Martinez struggled with a large crate.
“Let’s stack a few on top of each other.” Wade hurried to help her.
“Most of them are empty, but okay,” Ava said.
“Alan?” Shelby touched his face again, not sure if the chill to his skin came only from the rain. Her father. Hadn’t she wanted this, Alan to be her father? With his obvious mortality staring back at her, something seemed to click inside. She just didn’t care anymore. “Dad?”
“I like that.” He lifted his hand to her cheek, and she clasped it, pressing it against her.
“What do you like?” she asked.
“Hearing you call me Dad.”
“I like calling you that.”
He started to say something, but it came out as a groan. His body tensed, then went limp.
