the property, and out of the city before the cops tracked the stolen car were slim. Especially with GPS. Zach’s car would have been outfitted with all the bells and whistles. He didn’t skimp on the luxuries—that was for sure.
She couldn’t go back. She’d burned her last bridge with Brad. She had to be smart. Get as far away from her husband as possible. Then she’d figure out what to do next.
The vehicle had a black cover over the bed. She wrestled with the latch and peered inside. A toolbox, a tarp, and not much else.
No time to debate. She had to take a chance. Pray Zach didn’t look in the back before he left. Pray he’d leave California far behind and she could sneak out before he ever knew they were there.
Jenna grabbed Sam’s hand and helped him into the truck. She tucked the blanket around her son then climbed in after him. She poked a straw into a juice box, handed it to him, and slid the cover back into place before throwing the tarp over them both.
The world went dark.
“Mommy. I don’t like this game.” Sam squirmed against her.
She settled him in the crook of her arm. He snuggled in. “I know, honey. But we’re going to be fine.”
“Hasn’t Daddy been in time-out long enough? I wanna go home. I want my house, and my baseball mitt and my Dark Avenger movie.”
The door to the garage slammed open. The truck shifted under Zach’s weight as he got in.
She’d guessed right.
And he hadn’t looked in the back. Was her luck finally holding?
“Shhh,” she said, kissing Sam’s cheek. “See how quiet you can be, Junior Avenger.”
She couldn’t make out his expression, but her son sighed and cuddled against her. The fear around her heart didn’t ease. Her heartbeat raced as she focused on the sounds around them. Relieved Sam couldn’t see the apprehension on her face, she held him tight.
The garage door opened. The truck roared to life and started forward.
Almost there. Almost on the road.
The truck drove down the driveway and paused. They must have reached the gate.
She held her breath.
The purr of the engine accelerated, then stopped.
“Wait!”
The shout punched Jenna in the belly. Her stomach roiled.
“Daddy?” Sam whispered.
----
Chapter Four
----
Z ACH’S HEADLIGHTS SLICED across the shouting figure. He slammed on his brakes and curled his finger around the trigger of the 1911 before pressing the window control.
The smell of burned rubber filtered over the glass. The gate behind him whirred closed, clicked, and locked into place.
The streetlight illuminated Brad Walters. He crossed his arms, his intense gaze sweeping the interior of Zach’s truck.
“Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing?” Zach snapped.
“Someone climbed over our fence into your yard. I saw blood.”
Zach schooled his features into a skeptical expression that was a lie, of course. He didn’t have much doubt Jenna Walters had sneaked into his house. A pillow and afghan had vanished from the sofa. Some canned goods were missing from the pantry. His jaw tightened in irritation. Brad Walters and his missing wife were a distraction he couldn’t afford.
He gunned the gas on the truck.
“Look, I’m sorry about your wife and son, but I can’t help. You looked yourself. As to the blood, it happens. Paparazzi, fans seem to think they have the right to snoop. File a missing persons report.”
Mostly truth. Jenna Walters was probably long gone, along with the guy’s son. Zach’s final scan of the security system hadn’t detected any heat signatures inside the place.
“You know something. I feel it,” Brad snarled. He slammed his fist against Zach’s window. “I want to look again.”
He didn’t need this. “Then climb over the backyard and knock yourself out. But I have somewhere to be.”
He shoved the truck into gear and swerved onto the street. He wasn’t staying in the open for a second longer.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror solidified his decision.
She couldn’t go back. She’d burned her last bridge with Brad. She had to be smart. Get as far away from her husband as possible. Then she’d figure out what to do next.
The vehicle had a black cover over the bed. She wrestled with the latch and peered inside. A toolbox, a tarp, and not much else.
No time to debate. She had to take a chance. Pray Zach didn’t look in the back before he left. Pray he’d leave California far behind and she could sneak out before he ever knew they were there.
Jenna grabbed Sam’s hand and helped him into the truck. She tucked the blanket around her son then climbed in after him. She poked a straw into a juice box, handed it to him, and slid the cover back into place before throwing the tarp over them both.
The world went dark.
“Mommy. I don’t like this game.” Sam squirmed against her.
She settled him in the crook of her arm. He snuggled in. “I know, honey. But we’re going to be fine.”
“Hasn’t Daddy been in time-out long enough? I wanna go home. I want my house, and my baseball mitt and my Dark Avenger movie.”
The door to the garage slammed open. The truck shifted under Zach’s weight as he got in.
She’d guessed right.
And he hadn’t looked in the back. Was her luck finally holding?
“Shhh,” she said, kissing Sam’s cheek. “See how quiet you can be, Junior Avenger.”
She couldn’t make out his expression, but her son sighed and cuddled against her. The fear around her heart didn’t ease. Her heartbeat raced as she focused on the sounds around them. Relieved Sam couldn’t see the apprehension on her face, she held him tight.
The garage door opened. The truck roared to life and started forward.
Almost there. Almost on the road.
The truck drove down the driveway and paused. They must have reached the gate.
She held her breath.
The purr of the engine accelerated, then stopped.
“Wait!”
The shout punched Jenna in the belly. Her stomach roiled.
“Daddy?” Sam whispered.
----
Chapter Four
----
Z ACH’S HEADLIGHTS SLICED across the shouting figure. He slammed on his brakes and curled his finger around the trigger of the 1911 before pressing the window control.
The smell of burned rubber filtered over the glass. The gate behind him whirred closed, clicked, and locked into place.
The streetlight illuminated Brad Walters. He crossed his arms, his intense gaze sweeping the interior of Zach’s truck.
“Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing?” Zach snapped.
“Someone climbed over our fence into your yard. I saw blood.”
Zach schooled his features into a skeptical expression that was a lie, of course. He didn’t have much doubt Jenna Walters had sneaked into his house. A pillow and afghan had vanished from the sofa. Some canned goods were missing from the pantry. His jaw tightened in irritation. Brad Walters and his missing wife were a distraction he couldn’t afford.
He gunned the gas on the truck.
“Look, I’m sorry about your wife and son, but I can’t help. You looked yourself. As to the blood, it happens. Paparazzi, fans seem to think they have the right to snoop. File a missing persons report.”
Mostly truth. Jenna Walters was probably long gone, along with the guy’s son. Zach’s final scan of the security system hadn’t detected any heat signatures inside the place.
“You know something. I feel it,” Brad snarled. He slammed his fist against Zach’s window. “I want to look again.”
He didn’t need this. “Then climb over the backyard and knock yourself out. But I have somewhere to be.”
He shoved the truck into gear and swerved onto the street. He wasn’t staying in the open for a second longer.
A quick glance in the rearview mirror solidified his decision.
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