Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) by Danielle Bourdon Page B
Authors: Danielle Bourdon
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these, when it’s calm and normal, I’m almost convinced that no one is out there hunting me down.”
Cole took the entrance to the freeway. He said, “They are. They’re out there, and they’re not finished with you yet.”
C HAPTER F IVE
T he congestion of Southern California extended even into the earliest morning hours. Traffic wasn’t nearly as heavy now as it would be in three or four hours, but there was proof that workers were already getting a jump-start on their drive. Those who had five o’clock start times departed their house at three-thirty, and so on.
Madalina guided Cole to the edge of Whittier, then onto the surface streets, using her knowledge of the city to take every back road they could. Paranoia still lived with her, despite the lack of an incident in the final stretch home.
Home. Madalina wasn’t sure she would feel entirely safe within the beloved walls of her rented house. She had nowhere else to go, at least not anywhere that wouldn’t put someone else in danger. What would Cole do once they arrived? Would he drop her at the curb? Stay an hour or two? Paying his exorbitant bodyguard fees was out of the question, but she’d made it clear she wanted his help. Perhaps he would stay at a nearby hotel, remaining in constant contact. The thought of separation still unnerved her. She didn’t want to be alone. Visions of sedans cruising past her house, stalking her, waiting for her to set foot outside, persisted.
In an older section of town, Madalina directed Cole to Wildflower Way, a charming street of small but quaint homes built at the turn of the century. The boughs of trees interlaced overhead, creating a dappled effect of moonlight and shadow on the asphalt.
“Right up here. Two fourteen,” she said, pointing to a blue house with white trim. She’d left the porch light on to deter any would-be thieves. A small stone pathway led from a buckled sidewalk to her front steps, the tiny yard of green, green grass freshly mowed and manicured.
Everything looked as it should.
Cole pulled to the curb, habitually surveying the street in all directions. When he turned his shoulders to peer out the back, his arm brushed hers. Madalina refused to be distracted by the swell of muscle under his gray shirt.
Now came the awkward part. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, thinking of several different openings, working on how to ask him where she could find him if trouble came up.
“Looks peaceful enough.” He put the car in park and cut the engine. “Come on.”
Surprised, but not about to argue with his decision to accompany her to the door, Madalina disembarked and met him on the sidewalk.
“Careful. The city hasn’t fixed this yet.” She gestured to the buckled section of concrete in front of her yard. Roots from the giant trees sometimes wreaked havoc on the sidewalks, creating a tripping hazard. The residents, including Madalina, wouldn’t have it any other way. The trees were a barrier to the rest of the city, providing pleasant greenery and an almost woodsy feel to the street.
“Got it.” He led the way up her walk and took the three steps to her porch in one long stride.
Madalina fished her keys out of her purse, caught between the desire to stare at him in front of her door and to look warily over her shoulder. She couldn’t help herself. The almost-abduction was still too fresh in her mind.
“Here.” He held his hand out for her keys.
Madalina, saved from having to bring up the subject of him leaving, readily placed her keys in his palm. She shivered when their fingers brushed.
He inserted the key into one lock, then another, and twisted the doorknob.
Madalina checked the street one more time, then followed him in. She didn’t get very far. Bumping into his back, the material of his shirt muffling an oomph of surprise, she realized that Cole had gone utterly still and silent. Half in and half out of the doorway, she whispered, “What’s wrong?”
“Stay here.
Cole took the entrance to the freeway. He said, “They are. They’re out there, and they’re not finished with you yet.”
C HAPTER F IVE
T he congestion of Southern California extended even into the earliest morning hours. Traffic wasn’t nearly as heavy now as it would be in three or four hours, but there was proof that workers were already getting a jump-start on their drive. Those who had five o’clock start times departed their house at three-thirty, and so on.
Madalina guided Cole to the edge of Whittier, then onto the surface streets, using her knowledge of the city to take every back road they could. Paranoia still lived with her, despite the lack of an incident in the final stretch home.
Home. Madalina wasn’t sure she would feel entirely safe within the beloved walls of her rented house. She had nowhere else to go, at least not anywhere that wouldn’t put someone else in danger. What would Cole do once they arrived? Would he drop her at the curb? Stay an hour or two? Paying his exorbitant bodyguard fees was out of the question, but she’d made it clear she wanted his help. Perhaps he would stay at a nearby hotel, remaining in constant contact. The thought of separation still unnerved her. She didn’t want to be alone. Visions of sedans cruising past her house, stalking her, waiting for her to set foot outside, persisted.
In an older section of town, Madalina directed Cole to Wildflower Way, a charming street of small but quaint homes built at the turn of the century. The boughs of trees interlaced overhead, creating a dappled effect of moonlight and shadow on the asphalt.
“Right up here. Two fourteen,” she said, pointing to a blue house with white trim. She’d left the porch light on to deter any would-be thieves. A small stone pathway led from a buckled sidewalk to her front steps, the tiny yard of green, green grass freshly mowed and manicured.
Everything looked as it should.
Cole pulled to the curb, habitually surveying the street in all directions. When he turned his shoulders to peer out the back, his arm brushed hers. Madalina refused to be distracted by the swell of muscle under his gray shirt.
Now came the awkward part. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, thinking of several different openings, working on how to ask him where she could find him if trouble came up.
“Looks peaceful enough.” He put the car in park and cut the engine. “Come on.”
Surprised, but not about to argue with his decision to accompany her to the door, Madalina disembarked and met him on the sidewalk.
“Careful. The city hasn’t fixed this yet.” She gestured to the buckled section of concrete in front of her yard. Roots from the giant trees sometimes wreaked havoc on the sidewalks, creating a tripping hazard. The residents, including Madalina, wouldn’t have it any other way. The trees were a barrier to the rest of the city, providing pleasant greenery and an almost woodsy feel to the street.
“Got it.” He led the way up her walk and took the three steps to her porch in one long stride.
Madalina fished her keys out of her purse, caught between the desire to stare at him in front of her door and to look warily over her shoulder. She couldn’t help herself. The almost-abduction was still too fresh in her mind.
“Here.” He held his hand out for her keys.
Madalina, saved from having to bring up the subject of him leaving, readily placed her keys in his palm. She shivered when their fingers brushed.
He inserted the key into one lock, then another, and twisted the doorknob.
Madalina checked the street one more time, then followed him in. She didn’t get very far. Bumping into his back, the material of his shirt muffling an oomph of surprise, she realized that Cole had gone utterly still and silent. Half in and half out of the doorway, she whispered, “What’s wrong?”
“Stay here.
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