No. Not possible. It can’t be him...

Jordynn Flannigan was sure her fiancé was dead—along with all their dreams for a future together. But the stranger who just saved her from a kidnapper is none other than Donovan Grady, who supposedly died ten years ago. Now his enemies have found Jordynn, and he’s not going anywhere without her by his side—and under his dangerously close protection...

Donovan had to disappear to save those he loved. He can’t ask for Jordynn’s forgiveness, but he can keep her safe while they unravel an insidious conspiracy. As their reignited passion proves too hot to resist, the truth strikes devastatingly close to home. And their second chance might prove the most deadly trap of all.

“If you think I’m going to keep your secret, Donovan, you’ve got another think coming.”

“If you don’t, everyone we’ve ever cared about will be in danger.”

“Let me guess. You want me to trust you about that, too.”

“Yes.”

Jordynn met his gaze with a challenging glare. “Is that your plan, then? Return from the dead, save my life, then just assume I’ll fall into place?”

“My plan is to get you out of here before it’s too late.”

Donovan slid one of his hands to her back and found her wrist, intent on just taking the phone. But at the contact, a responding heat slid to his palm. It flowed through his forearm and out, searing his heart and drawing full attention to how close together they stood. Just inches apart, in fact.

Donovan’s fingers were on the phone, its cool exterior a sharp contrast to the warmth everywhere else. But he couldn’t actually make himself take it. He couldn’t even move. A decade apart, and still Jordynn’s touch set him on fire.

* * *

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Dear Reader,

When I first came up with the idea for Last Chance Hero, I was actually envisioning a short story with a horror vibe. I pictured a woman coming home alone to find signs of an intrusion—little things that only she would know that signaled her house has been disturbed. I had the whole scenario mapped out in my head. I pictured her walking up her driveway, an ominous feeling building in her chest. The lighting would have to be perfect—dim and spooky, with just a hint of color from the moon above. And as with most scary tales, the heroine realizes a second too late that she should’ve trusted her instincts.

The imaginary opening played out in my head again and again, never feeling quite right until I realized my heroine wasn’t alone in the fight for her life. A damaged hero was waiting on the sidelines, prepared to come to her aid the moment she needed it.

The hero, of course, became Donovan Grady, damaged and needing redemption. The heroine grew into Jordynn Flannigan. And from the moment Donovan jumped in, I knew that instead of finding a ghost around the corner, Jordynn would find something far more nerve-racking—a second chance at first love.

As always, I hope my story keeps you on the edge of your seat, makes your heart race a little faster and leaves you with a smile on your face.

Melinda

Last Chance Hero

Melinda Di Lorenzo

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Amazon bestselling author MELINDA DI LORENZO writes in her spare time—at soccer practices, when she should be doing laundry and in place of sleep. She lives on the beautiful west coast of British Columbia, Canada, with her handsome husband and her noisy kids. When she’s not writing, she can be found curled up with (someone else’s) good book.

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For all those who believe everyone deserves

a second chance.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

Extractt from Tough Justice: Countdown (Part 1 of 8) by Carla Cassidy

Extract from Colton’s Secret Son by Carla Cassidy

Copyright

Prologue

From his spot on the hotel balcony, Corey “the Nose” Waller watched as the guy in the ball cap smiled at the courier, who handed over a slim envelope. He’d had Ball Cap under close surveillance for a week now, and the man’s unflappable politeness was making the Nose itch. Tipping coffee servers. Holding the door open for old men. Chasing after some young mother when her baby lost his shoe in a puddle and the woman didn’t notice.

“Do-gooder,” the Nose muttered, pulling the binoculars away from his face for a disgusted second.

Over twelve months of solid tracking, and he could scarcely believe this was the man who’d fooled his employers for the past decade. Someone who had—just this morning—returned a damned hundred-dollar bill to a guy who walked away from an ATM without it. But the Nose had earned his nickname well; his bloodhound abilities were rarely wrong. Everything had led him here. All he needed now was proof.

He lifted the binoculars back up. The courier was laughing at something Ball Cap had said. He gave the other man a friendly slap on the shoulder. The Nose rolled his eyes. Two minutes in and they were best friends. Awful. A whole other minute of chatting went by before the courier finally turned to go. Ball Cap, though, continued to stand in the street, holding the envelope up to the light.

“C’mon,” the Nose urged. “Open it up where I can see you do it.”

He said it partly because it would be easier to report the proof that way. But mostly, he just plain wanted to ruin Ball Cap’s day. Inject a little misery into all that kindness.

The Nose waited patiently, counting up. He only made it as far as twenty-seven before he got his wish. The other man slipped his thumb to the seal and forced the envelope open. He reached in, pulled out the thin sheet inside, then lifted his eyes. And even though the Nose knew he was too far away to be seen, he could feel Ball Cap searching him out. He made himself ignore the feeling, and continued to watch.

The other man was clearly affected by what he’d seen. Trying not to panic, maybe. His eyes flicked up and down the street. Seeing nothing, he shifted from foot to foot, tapping the envelope and its contents on his knee.

The Nose smiled to himself. That’s right. Twitch, you big suck. Go back inside and hide some more. Make your getaway plan.

Satisfied that his search had come to an end, he started to lower the binoculars. Then stopped. Ball Cap had started to move, but he didn’t turn to go back into his apartment. Instead, he took off down the street at a dead run.

“Crap.”

The Nose dug into his pocket in search of his phone. He hit speed dial one. A deep, already angry voice answered on the second ring.

“What?”

The Nose didn’t bother to hide his concern. “I think we’re gonna have a problem. He’s on the run.”

“Oh, hell.”

“Yeah. You want me to go after him?”

There was a pause. “No. He knows we’ve got him now. He’ll stay hidden and he’s too good at it.”

“What, then?”

Another pause. “Just a sec.”

The Nose tapped his thigh impatiently as the phone became muffled. What the hell could be more important than this? A few moments later, he got the answer.

A new voice—more refined and calmer than the first—came on the line. “Mr. Waller?”

Puzzled to hear his own name, he answered carefully. “Yeah?”

“Corey ‘the Nose’ Waller?”

“Yeah.” He was impatient now. “Who’s this?”

“The man calling the shots.”

The Nose swallowed, suddenly very nervous. “Uh...”

“You’ve done a fine job finding the target.”

“Thank you.”

“Now I need you to do something else for us. For me.”

The Nose cleared his throat. “Okay.”

“Go after the girl.”

“Me? I’m not much of a—”

“You are now. How far away are you?”

“Few hours by car.”

“Good. You should have more than enough time.”

The Nose tried again to protest. “I really don’t—”

“You’re fast and efficient and she won’t be expecting you. Make it scary. I want her terrified.”

“Not...dead?”

A cool laugh came from the other end. “No. I want him. I can use him. And if we have her, he’ll come straight to us.”

Chapter 1

As the bus wheezed around the second-to-last corner before her stop in her hometown of Ellisberg, Oregon, Jordynn Flannigan’s phone buzzed to life in her pocket. She yanked it out and stared down at the flashing screen.

New Message from: Sasha.

She checked the time.

4:17 a.m.

Jordynn swiped her finger across the screen, wondering what her best friend could possibly want at this time of the morning. If it could even be called morning yet. Outside, the streetlights still glowed, and just a minute or so earlier, she’d seen a flash of the nearly full moon, as well. You up? Sasha had texted.

I am. But I have a good excuse. What about you?

Don’t ask. Incident with a crayon up the nose. My fave four-year-old was sleep coloring or something. Thought I’d check in. You okay?

Jordynn’s fingers were quick to reply. She smiled as she pictured her friend’s son.

Sounds like a typical night in your house. And I’m fine.

The response came almost instantaneously.

You sure? Uncle Reed said you refused to let him give you a ride home earlier. Sane people avoid the bus.

She smiled again. Sasha’s uncle Reed, who had been her friend’s guardian since they were teens, also owned the private care facility where Jordynn worked. He often went above and beyond in the role. In fact, with her own parents gone—her dad before she was born and her mom just two years earlier—everyone in Sasha’s family kind of filled the void. Her two kids were like a niece and nephew, her husband like the brother Jordynn never had, and her uncle definitely saw himself as a surrogate parent. Sasha took it as meddling, but Jordynn didn’t mind the support.

Tell Reed I’m fine. I just worked a few extra hours tonight.

Uh-uh. No way. I’m not going to be the one to break his heart by telling him you’re trying hard to exhaust yourself.

At that, Jordynn laughed. It was true that Reed coddled her a little at work, but she could hardly feel any resentment. And in spite of his preferential treatment, she never took advantage.

It’s nice that he cares. Too bad none of his sweetness got passed down to you.

If you could see me, you’d know I’m rolling my eyes. Hard.

If it makes you feel any better, I’ve got the rest of the weekend off.

I’d kill for a weekend off. But...you know...kids.

There was the briefest pause, then another text came through.

You sure you’re okay?

Jordynn tapped the side of the phone for a second, thinking about what to say. She knew why her friend was asking. The date had glared at her all day from the tear-away calendar on the nurses’ station at work.

After a moment, though, she sighed and wrote,

Totally fine. Really. I’m just going to go home, go to bed, and not get up for at least ten hours.

There was a delay in Sasha’s reply, and she wondered if her friend was thinking about calling her out for her brush-off. But when the answer finally came, it was a five-word acceptance instead of a demand for her true feelings.

All right. Good night, BFF.

Jordynn tucked her phone back into her pocket as the bus lumbered to a halt.

Truthfully, she’d spent her shift alternating between being short-tempered and ready to tear up at any given moment. But she’d promised herself she’d get through it. And she had. She’d gone the full twenty-four hours without actually crying, and without letting the ache in her chest overwhelm her.

She supposed that was probably why she felt so tense now. The lack of emotional release, coupled with the utter exhaustion brought on by three hours of overtime tacked on to an already twelve-hour shift—almost all of it on her feet—was definitely a recipe for a bad state of mind. She was so much more than ready for her own split-level house. For her hideous, bunny-eared slippers and her cushy, oversize robe. She doubted she’d ever been so glad for a week to be over.

Still, she couldn’t quite shake a strange sense of worry at the thought of walking the two and a half blocks from the stop to her two-bedroom rancher.

Don’t let it win, she ordered silently.

She refused to give in to the melancholy and let herself think about the past. To wallow in the things she couldn’t change. Not even today, on the tenth anniversary of the day her life had become forever altered.

But as she pushed open the hydraulic doors and stepped into the chilly predawn air, her unease grew stronger. She pulled her thin coat a little tighter across her chest and glanced around quickly. The streets were empty, as was to be expected at this time of night. The neighborhood wouldn’t wake for an hour or more, and for now, the houses sat still, dark and quiet. Nothing unusual. Nothing to make her fingers shake the way they were.

Jordynn increased her pace anyway. And as her feet hit the ground, the bad feeling increased with a vengeance. It was compounded by the fact that the ring—the one she kept on a long chain around her neck—felt suddenly heavy. And the way it pressed into her sternum under her scrubs made the pressure in her chest that much more stifling. Cooler than her skin and far more unyielding, too. And when a single streetlight directly above her head flickered off, bathing her in momentary darkness, she almost turned to ran back and try to flag down the bus again.

You’ll feel better when you get home, she told herself.

But oddly, the closer she got to her house, the worse she felt. By the time she’d crossed the first two blocks, her heart had started to race with worry. And when she hit the end of her own block and put her driveway in view, her feet didn’t want to move another step. With a dry mouth, she pushed one shoe forward. Then the other. She made it to the very edge of the stone steps that led from the lawn to her front patio. And the next few steps wouldn’t come. Because Jordynn spotted a true reason to be concerned.

The light on her porch—the one she always left on—was gone. Not turned off. Not burned out. Gone completely. The bulb and the vintage case that gave it the unmistakable orange hue were both missing.

Her eyes flicked around in a vain search for a logical explanation. She found nothing. Not even shattered glass on the ground.

It wasn’t an accident.

As the realization hit her, Jordynn took a step back, fumbling to reach for the phone in her jacket. Her hand didn’t even get as far as her pocket before her back hit something solid.

Not something. Someone.

It took her a second too long to figure it out. Quicker than she could even get out a whimper, a hand slammed over her mouth. A rough, distinctly masculine palm.

She fought to get away, twisting, and dropping her purse and all its contents as she tried to throw an elbow into his stomach. The man bent away easily, and his hand stayed in place. She made another attempt to free herself, this time driving her foot backward. It was a futile move. Her shoe tumbled to the ground, and her sock slid uselessly off his pants. And suddenly, she was pressed against him, her arms pinned to her sides.

“Move again, and die,” warned a gruff voice. “Scream, and die. In fact, do anything I don’t like...and die.”

But the three-part warning wasn’t even necessary. Because when he eased away, the cold tip of a blade digging into the small of her back provided motivation enough. She held very still, praying that all he wanted was her money. Her silent hope went unmet.

The rough hand came down, and a heartbeat later, a cloth took its place. Her assailant shoved the fabric between her teeth, then back farther. Jordynn wanted to gag, and fought the urge. She didn’t dare make a sound. But as he forced her hands behind her back and lashed them together with a plastic tie, she couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes and spilling over to her cheeks.

Will it make him mad? she wondered. Is crying something he doesn’t like?

A few seconds later, it didn’t matter anyway. Her attacker slipped a hood over her head, covering up the evidence of her near-silent sobs. Then he spun her around and gave her a little shove, and Jordynn realized why he’d covered her face. He was going to take her somewhere, and she wouldn’t stand a chance of knowing a thing about how they got there.

“Walk,” the man growled.

Jordynn tried to obey him, but with the tears coming even harder, and the choking sensation growing worse, disorientation reigned. When she lifted her foot, it caught on one of the pathway stones. She stumbled, just enough to send her to her knees.

Above her, the man holding the knife snarled.

A chance. This is a chance.

But it wasn’t. The moment she managed to get to her knees, thick fingers landed on top of the hood. He gripped it together with her hair and dragged her back. She hollered against the gag in her mouth. Muffled. Pointless.

I’m going to die. I moved and I screamed and he didn’t like it and—

The wild thoughts cut off as a snarl reached her ears. She was sure it hadn’t come from the man who held her, because he went still, then released her abruptly. Jordynn fell sideways, slamming to the grass and knocking off the hood, giving her a clear view of the strange scene unfolding in front of her. First, a flash of movement caught her eye. Then, from up the walkway—and she could almost swear the figure had come from inside her house—a distinctly human form flew toward her and her assailant. It flew straight into the man holding her, and he let out a yell as he was knocked sideways.

And now there were two men in her yard instead of one. The first was on the ground. He was short and whip-thin, his furious face angular and almost birdlike. The second was on one knee, and he was just the opposite—a bear of a man, with a square, beard-dusted jaw. He wore a ball cap pulled low, and under its edges, Jordynn could just see a curl of sandy hair. As he pushed to his feet, his muscles strained against his fitted T-shirt.

When the first intruder stood, the second one lifted his face up under the cap, and Jordynn thought there was something familiar in his gaze. And strangely, the flash of familiarity actually sent a pleasant tingle up her spine. After a second of staring at her, he dipped his hat down, obscuring his features. And for some reason, that just made her want to see more of him. It surprised her to realize it. Checking out men was low down on her to-do list. Nevertheless, there was no denying his appeal. The strength in his tense jaw. The fullness of his lips. The raw power in his physique. Even in the very dim light, she could see how attractive he was.

And in spite of the fact that Jordynn didn’t know who he was, and even though she knew she ought to be more than a little frightened about what he was doing outside her home in the first place, the all-over tingle became an unexpected—and unwanted—buzz.

She swallowed nervously.

Then he lifted his head again, the baseball hat tipping back to expose his face. He took a small step forward, and Jordynn’s breath caught in her throat. She knew why he seemed familiar. And why she felt such a strong, singular attraction to him.

The man standing in front of her looked enough like the man she loved—the man she’d lost a decade ago, today—that they could’ve been brothers. He was bigger. Way bigger. Older, too. And there was something darker and more guarded in the way he held himself than she’d ever seen from the man who’d given her the ring that she wore around her neck.

But the eyes...

Jordynn swallowed again, swaying a little on her feet. That warm, mesmerizing hazel that picked up the glow of the moon and reflected it back... She’d never seen the shade on anyone else.

But it can’t be him.

Her mind had to be playing the cruelest of tricks on her. Because the man Jordynn loved had died ten years earlier.

* * *

Jordynn Jean Flannigan.

For a minute that lasted a lifetime, Donovan Grady couldn’t do more than stare into her eyes, watching the heart-wrenching fear play through them. His guilt held him as fast as his awe.

His plan had just been to check on her from afar. To assure himself she was alive and well, but not to give her a chance to recognize him. For some reason, he hadn’t really thought about what would happen if she did. If his suspicions became fruitful—as they had—forcing him to get close and giving him no choice but to interact.

Maybe you just wanted so badly to be wrong that you didn’t consider the consequences.

Now that it had happened, the sight of her in the moonlight floored him. It sent thoughts of caution to the very back of his mind.

He waited for her to whisper his name. Or cry it out in confusion. Instead, she stood very still. Too still. Not showing a single emotion.

Maybe she doesn’t know you.

The idea cut into him.

Of course, he knew he looked a lot different than he had ten years ago. Two inches taller. Eighty pounds heavier. Hell, he hadn’t been more than nineteen when his world had changed forever. Barely a man. It wasn’t just the sudden, belated growth spurt, either. A decade away—a decade of pretending to be someone else—had changed him. Inside and out.

Still. He would’ve been able to pick her out of a crowd of a thousand. A crowd of a million. He’d held her face in his mind every night for the past decade. That didn’t mean she’d done the same. He hadn’t even wanted her to hang on to his memory.

He tore his eyes away from hers, but only succeeded in moving his gaze to the rest of her face.

Ten years had turned her from the pretty eighteen-year-old girl he remembered to a ravishing twenty-eight-year-old woman. Still naturally beautiful, still clean-scrubbed and makeup free. Still perfect. It left him tongue-tied, every part of him frozen. Except his pulse, which raced through his body with long-buried desire. From his spot just a few feet away, he just stood and appreciated the sight of her. The fiery cascade of her red, red hair and the subtle curves of her athletic build. Her sky blue eyes, and the curve of her lips—that he knew to be as soft and warm and tempting as silk—working furiously against a piece of cloth that had been jammed into her mouth.

A dirty rag. Hell.

She didn’t deserve to have it stuck between her teeth like that.

Donovan finally took a step toward her, determined to help her pull it out.

Before he could get any closer, Jordynn’s assailant smashed against his hip and dragged him back to reality. This wasn’t a romance, waiting to be rekindled. This was a life-or-death situation.

As Donovan stumbled, he didn’t have time to curse his own distractibility. He spun to the side, shook the other man off, then dropped to a low crouch and prepared for a second lunge. He didn’t have to wait long. With a wordless growl, the attacker came at him again. Donovan feinted to the left, the slammed out his right arm, knocking the smaller man to the ground. He gave the man no time to recover. He leaped forward to pin him to the ground, a knee in his chest and a forearm under his throat.

“Give it up,” he growled.

Under his elbow, the guy let out a choking laugh. In under a second, Donovan understood why. A sharp pain pierced his side.

A knife. Dammit.

He tried to no avail to get his arms around to dislodge it. The burn of the blade only increased as it dug in farther, and Donovan would have no choice but to let go if he wanted to pull it free. He couldn’t do that fast enough, either. A knee came up and slammed into him just shy of his groin. With a pain-filled grunt, he shifted out of reach. It was enough to give the assailant another temporary advantage. The smaller man dug his feet into the ground and slid up. Then he delivered a vicious kick to his chest, winding Donovan.

As he heaved in a breath, he finally did take a minute to curse himself. Stupid, to go in overconfident. Even stupider to assume the man was unarmed. Lucky, though, that it was something other than a gun.

Take what luck you can get, he told himself grimly.

He finally righted himself and reached around to yank out the blade. The wound was superficial, but it would still need attention. He knew he’d have to deal with it later. The other man had already started toward Jordynn once again, and she appeared to be fixed to the spot. Frozen in fear, maybe.

No way. No way in hell.

He tossed the knife to the ground, and as it landed with a dull thud, he wasted no time. He dived at Jordynn’s attacker’s legs. Together, they slammed to the grass, sending dirt flying.

“No more chances,” Donovan said as he came up to his knees.

He drew back his fist and smacked it into the other guy’s jaw as hard as he could. The blow sent the man sliding backward up the grass, where he groaned once, then stayed there, unmoving.

Donovan leaned down.

Thoroughly unconscious. As expected.

He turned back toward Jordynn.

She was gone.

Unreasonable panic washed through him.

His eyes flew around the outside yard in an arc, searching. No movement caught his eye. No flash of red hair. Nothing.

She had no idea of the danger she was in. That the man who’d attacked her was probably the least of her worries. The tip of the damned iceberg. If she’d taken off, she wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of staying safe.

He spun back toward the house, and on the second sweep, he found her. She’d made it to the front porch, where she’d crouched down behind a bush. The gag had fallen from her mouth, but her hands were still bound, and she was eyeing him nervously.

Thank God.

But Donovan’s relief was short-lived.

Before he could say a word, Jordynn’s jaw dropped open, and a high-pitched scream filled the dawn air.

He sprang forward, intent on stopping the noise. Seeing little other choice, he yanked the discarded rag from the ground, then knelt down beside her and shoved it back toward her mouth. Her teeth gnashed down hard against his skin.

Pain shot through his hand, but the pang of guilt at his own invasive action was worse. This was the woman he’d promised his heart to a decade ago. Just thinking about hurting her made his gut twist. Actually doing it was like a knife with a jagged edge, slamming into his rib cage.

Forcefully, Donovan pushed both the guilt and the physical pain to the back of his mind. He had to make her stop. To make her listen.

So tell her what happened.

But he couldn’t make himself do it. Not yet. Not like this.

As she continued to yell, punctuated now by gasping breaths, he held fast to the cloth, then gripped her head and worked the fabric between her lips. He got it all the way in, and held it there until she stopped struggling. Without letting go, he leaned back just enough to give her some space, but not so far that she could make an escape attempt. She sat still, her eyes squeezed tightly closed, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breaths. Donovan relaxed his grip a little, inhaling deeply. It was a mistake. Her sweet scent filled his nose—she wore the same delicately floral perfume he remembered so well. The light aroma that sometimes seemed to linger in the air when he woke from a pleasant dream.

Startled by his strong reaction, Donovan lost his grip on her completely. She jerked away, then sent a vicious kick at his knee—forceful enough to knock him to the side—then scrambled in the other direction, hitting the patio with a muffled cry.

Bloody hell.

Donovan shot up. Three long strides brought him to her side. With a grunt, he leaned down, grabbed her elbows and dragged her to her feet. She tried to yank herself away yet again. Donovan held firm.

“I’m trying to help you,” he said, his voice soft and even. “I’m not going to hurt you, and I want to take that gag out and untie your hands. But first, you need to promise me you aren’t going to scream. Can you do that?”

She kept her eyes shut. Like maybe she could will the sight of him away. After a second, though, she nodded once.

Gently, Donovan reached out to tug the cloth from her mouth. He felt her tense as he did it, and he couldn’t blame her. The situation was surreal for him, too, and he wasn’t the one being visited by someone he thought to be dead.

Wordlessly, he moved behind her, his fingers seeking her wrists. Even though he’d touched her twice over the past few minutes, this time it was different. Maybe because of the intention behind it. Donovan held the zip tie between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing it repeatedly to make it weak. He could feel the thrum of Jordynn’s pulse underneath his attention, and even though he knew it had to be the result of her nerves, it sent heat through his own veins. With gritted teeth, he continued to work until he was satisfied that he’d compromised the plastic enough to break it. Then he lifted his leg and slapped her wrists against his knee. The cord snapped with almost no resistance, and Donovan stepped away.

“You okay?” he asked.

She drew in an audible breath. “You’re not him.”

“Jordynn.” He turned her around to face him.

She shook her head, and continued to hold her eyes closed. “Please don’t be real.”

“Jordynn—”

“Stop saying my name.”

Her voice held a tiny bit of rebellion, and part of Donovan was glad to see she was as strong-willed as ever. A bigger part of him was worried that the longer they stayed on her lawn with an unconscious man at their feet, the longer they’d risk being caught. The longer he’d risk being caught. He sure as hell hadn’t come all this way to let that happen.

“We can’t stay here,” he said.

“Were you in my house?”

Donovan frowned at the seemingly unrelated reply. “Yes, but—”

“How did you get in?”

“The key you keep inside the garden gnome.”

“When’s my birthday?”

He smiled. “December 20. But you celebrate it on June 20 so no one tries to double up your birthday and Christmas gifts.”

At last, she lifted her lids. Her too-blue eyes went wide. She stared at him for three long heartbeats. Then her baby blues rolled back in her head. She slumped to the side, and Donovan caught her. With a sigh that was one part pleasure, one part resignation and one part worry, he lifted her gently with both arms, snagged her discarded shoe from the grass and started up the walkway.

And he had to admit, holding her close made him feel like no time had passed at all.

Chapter 2

At first, Jordynn thought she was dreaming.

After all, that’s where she always saw him. Where her subconscious reigned, and the decades-old heartbreak couldn’t quite be buried.

She inhaled deeply, trying to orient herself. Instead, she got a whiff of something sharply sweet, and recognized it right away as coming from the not-so-secret stash of brandy her mom had always kept in the cabinet beside the TV. Immediately, her eyes flew open. And that distinct, familiar gaze met hers.

Donovan Grady’s hazel eyes.

The ones she’d seen just before all the blood rushed to her head and she fainted.

And Jordynn didn’t just think she was dreaming. She knew it.

But if you’re dreaming...then how come you saw his eyes before you passed out?

Panic hit her. She attempted to sit up, but only made it as far as an elbow before her head swam again. She squeezed her eyes shut, and a warm hand—Donovan’s hand—slipped to the back of her neck and eased her down again. His touch lingered. She let it. She wanted so badly for it to be real. Tears pricked at her lids.

“Look at me.” Donovan’s voice.

Her heart thundered in her chest. And she refused to obey. She wouldn’t look. She wouldn’t open her eyes and find him there. She wouldn’t see his ghost. If she stayed still for long enough, the dream would fade and so would the sadness.

“C’mon,” he said.

“No,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I need to make sure you’re okay.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to. Please.”

In spite of her desire to keep them shut, his pleading tone made her open them. Though her vision blurred, she still had a decent view of the big man in front of her. He sat beside her on a chair, his knees brushing the edge of the couch where she was lying down. He held the brandy decanter in his hands, the crystal cap off.

Relief flooded through Jordynn. She wasn’t dreaming. But clearly, her mind had mixed up past and present. Taking the scent of her mother’s favorite poison and mixing it with the unusual presence of a man in her house, and sending her back ten years. Because Donovan was a skinny kid in too-baggy pants. He had an easy smile and no rough edges. This man was huge, and he wore fitted jeans and a white T-shirt, stained with dirt and what looked like blood.

“Jordynn?”

She blinked, and the dulled edges of him came into focus. He’d taken off his hat and his sandy hair sat matted to his head in a tangle she knew well. A mess she’d run her hands through a thousand times. She blinked a second time. He didn’t disappear. His hazel eyes—framed by thick, familiar lashes—were tinged with concern, their corners crinkled up. She’d stared into them enough times to be able to pinpoint each fleck. To know what they looked like sad, happy, scared...all of it.

Impossible.

She squished backward onto the overstuffed arm of the couch as an enormous, terrified lump filled her throat.

“Dono.” His name was barely more than a choked sob.

“Yes.”

“You’re dead.”

“I can explain, honey. But I’ll need more time than we’ve got right this second.”

Jordynn blinked, watching his mouth work as he continued to talk, but not hearing a word. He could explain? How? She’d attended his funeral. Comforted his grieving father. Lost herself in a year-long despair she never thought she’d crawl out of. She’d blamed herself for what happened. Blamed himself for his death. No explanation could erase that, or the accompanying dark moments. The pain and loss were too great.

But somehow that didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out. From having an incredible need to run her fingers along that stubble on his face. To touch him, just to make sure—really sure—he was there.

Oh, God.

She tightened her hands into fists, steadying herself to stop from actually following through on the desire.

His hand landed on her shoulder, and when she flinched, he drew it away again quickly, hurt touching his eyes before he covered it again in an impassive mask.

“Hey. Did you hear me?” he asked gently.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I said it’s not safe for us to stay here much longer.”

“Safe?”

“Not safe,” he corrected.

“So...what?” She blinked again. “You want me to go somewhere else?”

“I need us to go somewhere else.”

“I can’t go anywhere with you, Dono.” This time, saying his name hurt.

“If you come with me, I can give you at least a bit of an explanation,” he told her again.

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

“I’m not—” She paused, took a breath, tried again. “I won’t leave this—” God, why can’t I just complete a sentence? Why does it all seem so inadequate? “No. Not with—No.”

He leaned back, looking frustrated. And something else, too. Maybe a bit disappointed. Or even surprised. Had he thought that after ten years away, she’d jump into his arms? Be so relieved he was alive she’d forget the rest?

Are you relieved?

She bit her lip and told herself it was an awful thing to wonder. And she wasn’t even going to answer the silent, self-directed question.

He leaned forward again, his face tense now. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I saw another way. I wouldn’t even have...”

Even though he trailed off, Jordynn heard what came next. If he’d seen another way, he wouldn’t have come back at all. And it took away a tiny bit of her guilt, making it a little easier to focus on the here and now rather than the past. Easier to find the words and string them together.

“I can’t even begin to guess what happened to you,” she said. “Or why you would let everyone who loved you think you were dead. But you have to know that you can’t expect to walk in here and tell me I’m not safe and think I’ll just go with you.”

Donovan lifted his hand to tug on his ear. A heart-wrenching gesture—a habit that meant he was truly worried—that Jordynn had all but forgotten about it. It made her wonder what else she’d forgotten about. How many memories had faded away with the years? How many of them had she deliberately buried? It hurt to think about it. Like a freshly closed wound threatening to open all over again.

This was just too hard.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

“You have to, honey. Trust me when I say this wasn’t a random attack.”

“Trust you?” The concept seemed utterly foreign.

“Just in this. Please.” There was a note of desperation in his voice. “That man over there? He has some friends waiting for him, and I have no idea how long it’s gonna be before they show up.”

Her blood went cold. “Over where?”

He nodded his head toward a space behind him, and Jordynn forced her eyes away from his face. On the other side of the room, bound to one of her mother’s antique dining chairs with some kind of wire, sat the birdlike man from outside. Somehow, she’d almost put him out of her mind. Now the sight of him made her stomach roil, both because of his attack and because of his appearance. The man’s head hung to one side, a mottled bruise already fanning out along his jaw. He’d been gagged. Far more efficiently than Jordynn herself had been, she noted. A strip of sheeting had been wound around his mouth—multiple times—and knotted securely behind one ear.

Jordynn swallowed. “Did you do that?”

Donovan nodded shortly. “Yes.”

“Is he...?”

“He’s alive.”

“So...you’re just going to leave him there?”

“I couldn’t exactly leave him in the front yard.”

“Who is he?”

“The less you know, the better.”

She met his gaze, noting the resignation there.

Resignation, she thought. But no regret.

Not for the man tied up, anyway. It made her heart ache even more than it already did. The Donovan she knew was protective, but loving. A little hotheaded and maybe even impetuous, but always compassionate and kind. Reverent of life. Maybe that had all changed when he’d feigned the end of his own. Which was what he must’ve done, she surmised.

“He would’ve killed you, Jordynn,” he stated then, far too matter-of-factly.

She suppressed a shiver, because now she wasn’t wondering what she’d forgotten—she was wondering what she’d missed. What parts of him had been irrevocably altered, and how he’d become this larger, darker version of himself.

Abruptly, like he couldn’t take her scrutiny, he stood and began to pace the room.

“You should pack a bag,” he said. “Clothes. Toothbrush. That kinda stuff. Enough for a few days, maybe longer. We can always figure out exactly what needs to be done when we get where we’re going.”

“I have a simpler solution.”

Donovan paused, tugged his ear again and shook his head. “No.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“The police aren’t an option.”

She ignored the way it felt so normal to have him practically read her thoughts. “But your dad—”

“Was the chief when he died, I know. But he thought I was dead, just like you did. All his friends on the force think it. And it needs to stay that way.”

“And if I say no?” She asked the question so softly that he didn’t seem to hear it.

“Have you got a car? Or access to one? I had to leave mine behind.”

Jordynn cleared her throat and repeated her question, this time more firmly. “What if I refuse to go with you?”

His brows knit together. “I’ll make you come with me, Jordynn, if I have to.”

A spark of anger flickered. “You’ll make me come with you? Just like you made me believe you were gone?”

“I’ll do whatever I have to, to protect you.”

The spark flamed, and Jordynn pushed herself to a sitting position, ignoring the accompanying light-headedness. She wasn’t just mad—she was furious.

She opened her mouth, poised to tell him what he could do with his protection, but her phone buzzed from the coffee table, momentarily distracting her.

“Do not answer that,” Dono warned.

“Just try and stop me.”

They dived for the phone at the same time. And even though Jordynn was still woozy, she was determined. She went low, sliding under the edge of the table instead of over it. Dono, on the other hand, smashed straight into the wood, his big body landing on it hard. The wood creaked, then shuddered. Jordynn gasped. She guessed what was about to happen with only a second to spare, and she dug her feet into the area rug and dragged herself out the way, just as the table collapsed.

The still-ringing phone flew sideways, then skidded from the carpet to the laminate, its LifeProof case making a rubbery thump as it came to a halt.

Jordynn’s eyes moved back to Dono. He groaned, then rolled to his back. Jordynn took advantage of his stunned state of mind. She crawled over the floor, snapped up the cell phone, then lifted it to look at the caller ID.

Boss-Man Reed.

Thank God.

“Hello,” she gasped into the phone.

But Donovan had recovered. His hand closed over top of hers, his wide fingers snapping the hang-up button before she could stop him.

“Hey!”

“I told you not to answer that.” His voice was dark. “Who was it?”

Jordynn stared up at him. He sounded worried. But something else, too. Jealous, maybe? He had no right to either feeling. For some reason, that didn’t stop her from stumbling to answer quickly.

“It was just my boss.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” Dono reminded her. “Does your boss always call you then?”

Warmth crept up her cheeks. “No. It’s not like...that. He’s like family. He probably knows I worked late and wants to make sure I’m okay.”

He stared at her like he was assessing the truth of her statement. Then her phone rang again, and his intense gaze moved to the screen instead.

“Reed?” He frowned. “Sasha’s uncle?”

“Yes. He’s my boss.”

Dono tapped then phone on his thigh, then held it out. “Tell him you’re fine.”

Jordynn snatched the slim device away irritably and hit the answer button. “Sorry, Reed.”

Her boss’s familiar, gentle voice came through immediately. “Jo. Everything okay? Heard you pulled a double?”

Briefly, she considered telling him the truth. Or at least a portion of it. But if Dono was telling even the partial truth... She wouldn’t risk her boss’s life.

“Yes to both,” she said. “I’m home now, though. Hoping to get some extra sleep tonight.”

“Exactly what I needed to hear.”

Jordynn let out a silent breath. “Bye, Reed.”

“Night, sweetie.”

She clicked the phone off, then turned toward Dono, steeling herself. But it was impossible to prepare for the force of those hazel eyes. They made her ache.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now we should go.”

She inhaled. “You don’t get to do this. You were dead, Dono. And now you’re just a stranger.”

“I can’t just run out of here. No matter how badly you might want me to.”

“You did it once before.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

His eyes filled with pain, and he turned away. Like he wanted to hide it, but couldn’t. Or like he couldn’t find an answer she’d want to hear.

Well, damn him. And damn his pain, too.

Jordynn stood up. And started to move. Quickly.

* * *

Donovan realized about a second too late what her intention was.

Crap.

Before he could blink, she was three quarters of the way across the sunken living room, the slim white phone still in her hands.

Double crap.

And by the time he actually reacted to what was happening, she had already reached the stairs that led up to the second floor.

“Jordynn!”

She ignored him and darted up the stairs.

He snarled a curse, then dashed after her. He got to the top step just as she reached the last door at the end of the hall. She shot him a triumphant look as she slammed it, then clicked the lock.

Crap on toast.

“Jordynn!” he yelled a second time.

He shook the handle. Nothing. He shook harder. It didn’t budge. On the other side, he could hear the sound of furniture moving around. He had no problem picturing what she was doing. The big white dresser would be too big to move. The nightstand, though, wouldn’t be a problem. Maybe she’d position the desk chair under the knob. Or take the narrow bookcase from inside her closet and drag it over to cover the whole hinge-side of the door. In minutes, she’d be barricaded in. She’d dial 911. Or maybe the direct line to his dad’s old office. They’d both be exposed. Both be at risk.

Donovan stepped back, ran a hand over his hair, gave his ear a solid tug and stared at the closed door. Then smiled.

Hurriedly, he slipped into the den. He tiptoed over the floor, then eased open the closet door. He pushed his way through the spare coats, then ran his hand over the far wall until his fingers found the metal latch hidden there. He lifted it, letting himself into the cheater bathroom it shared with her bedroom. He slipped past the tub and toilet, then through the door on the other side. He stopped at the foot of her bed, watching as she did just as he’d pictured, and reinforced the door with the wood chair. When she’d set it firmly under the knob to her satisfaction, she stood back and gave her handiwork a nod.

Donovan stepped closer, near enough to touch her, and spoke in a low voice. “It looks good. But I still see a bit of a problem with the security of it, don’t you?”

She spun, then jumped back, knocking over the chair and smacking into the door. “How did you get in here?”

“C’mon, Jordynn. The layout of the house hasn’t changed. I came in through the bathroom.”

Her eyes flicked over his shoulder to the closet. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And...now what?”

“Nothing. As long as you give me the phone.”

He saw her hand tighten on the device. Then she slipped it behind her back.

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

A surprising blush—delicate and lacy—crept up her face. “Did you think I’d just hand it over?”

“Well. I don’t remember you being particularly unreasonable.” He closed the gap between them in three easy steps.

“A lot can happen in ten years.”

He ignored the sting brought on by the comment. “The phone. Please.”

“No.”

“Giving it to me before the guy downstairs wakes up would be ideal.”

“Calling the police before he wakes up would be even better,” she retorted.

With a sigh, he reached around her to take it. She moved to sidestep the grab, but Donovan was quicker. He slammed his arms up to the wall, blocking her in.

“The phone,” he said again.

“The police.”

“Not happening.”

“If you think I’m going to keep your secret, you’ve got another think coming.”

“If you don’t keep it, everyone I’ve ever cared about—everyone you currently care about—will be in danger.”

“Let me guess. You want me to trust you about that, too.”

“Yes.”

She lifted her face and met his gaze with a challenging glare. “Is that your plan, then? Return from the dead, save my life, then just assume I’ll fall into place?”

“My plan is to get you out of here before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what, specifically?”

“Too late for us to get away from the guys who know now that I’m not dead. Who know you’re the only reason I’d expose myself. Jordynn. Give me the damned phone.” Donovan slid one of his hands to her back and found her wrist, intent on just taking the phone. But at the contact, a responding zap of heat slid to his palm. It flowed through his forearm and up again, settling in his chest. It expanded out, searing his heart and drawing full attention to how close together they stood. Just inches apart, in fact.

Donovan’s fingers were on the phone, its cool exterior a sharp contrast to the warmth everywhere else. But he couldn’t actually make himself take it. He couldn’t even move. A decade apart, and still her touch set him on fire.

He could tell she wasn’t immune to him, either. Her chest rose and fell a little quicker, and she sucked in the side of her mouth. Each a telltale sign Donovan knew well.

“How’s it working out for you?” she whispered.

He swallowed, unable to remember what they’d been talking about. “How’s what working out for me?”

“That plan of yours.”

“I’ve spent the last ten years without you, honey,” he said thickly. “Things have been hell for that long. So from here, things are looking pretty damned good.”

“What about it seems good? I’m not exactly cooperating with what you want to accomplish.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t bite on the wicked line she was trying to feed him. She’d always been excellent at baiting him into an argument. Trounced him every time. So he just stared down at her face, and the longer he looked, the more every detail of it seemed important.

Her wide eyes, pupils expanded enough that they nearly blocked out the blue.

The blush, which had expanded even more, covering her cheeks and throat completely.

Her lips. Firm, and just the tiniest bit damp.

The tiny scar on her left eyebrow, new since the last time he saw her.

The last thing prompted Donovan to move. He lifted his other hand from the wall and reached out to touch the small indent. He ran his fingers over the mark, disliking it intensely. Not because it marred the dark red curve of her brow, but because he hadn’t been there to witness whatever caused it. Hadn’t been there to stop it.

“What happened here?” he asked.

“Why?” she breathed. “Does it bother you?”

“Only knowing that it probably hurt you.”

“It did.”

“Badly?”

“At first. But all wounds heal eventually.”

Donovan flinched. He knew without asking that her comment was really a dig. A metaphor.

But maybe it’s an opening, too.

“Do they all heal?” he asked.

He dragged his finger from the scar to her cheek, almost—but not quite—cupping it. He hated himself for wanting her to say yes—for wanting her to be willing to overlook the heartbreak he’d caused.

She didn’t resist the intimate touch as she answered. “If they don’t kill you. Definitely. The human body is resilient. But wounds leave scars, too. Like that one up there.”

“A reminder?” he asked.

“Or a warning to be more careful the next time.”

“Jordynn...”

His thumb slipped to her mouth. For a second, her eyes closed and her lips dropped open. Then she inhaled and leaned back, out of reach.

“Do you really want to know how I got the scar?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“I went on a date.”

Donovan was sure she’d said it to deliberately deflect the rising temperature between them. Or maybe just to hurt him. He wished he didn’t understand why she did it. The awareness acted like a bucket of icy water, dousing the desire that raged through him. Still. He had to pretend he didn’t care—because really, it wasn’t his right to care—as she met his eyes, clearly looking for a reaction.

He fought an urge to just slip his fingers between hers and pry the phone from her grip, thereby ending the conversation completely. Instead, he inhaled, then let the breath out carefully.

“A date?”

“Yes. The first one after you’d—After you were gone. You remember my friend Sasha?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Almost a year had gone by, and she thought it was time for me to start moving on. So she set me up with a friend of her cousin’s. The guy was just here on a visit. Short-term commitment, Sasha told me. No pressure, because he’d be gone in a week.”

Donovan pictured it. Pushy, logical Sasha, presenting a date as a reasonable argument. Jordynn unable to find a loophole to get her out of going.

“So you agreed,” he said softly.

“I did. He took me bowling. Then out for dinner. He was nice. Good-looking, too. And I was trying hard not to have fun. Searching for a reason not to like him. I couldn’t find one. At the end of the date, I realized I was being silly about the whole thing. There was no reason not to enjoy myself. So I decided to take a leap and have a good time. I let myself relax and laugh and eat a stupid dessert. When it was over, I was actually a bit sad. And relieved when—while we were sitting at the end of my driveway, in his car—he asked me out again. I said yes. And he kissed me, Dono. And it was fine. No fireworks or insanity like with you. But fine.” She paused to shrug. “Until a big black truck took a wrong turn and rear-ended us. Totaled the guy’s car. Smashed my head into the dashboard and split it open.”

A furious range of emotions tumbled through Donovan. Jealousy and self-loathing. Fierce regret and protectiveness. He reached up to stroke the scar again, but she shook her head, stopping him from succeeding.

“The worse part,” she said, “wasn’t that I took it as a sign that I wasn’t supposed to be having a good time, even though that’s what my mind had already concluded. Or that I was being punished for enjoying the date, even though I thought I was. It was knowing, at that moment, that I’d never be whole again. That some part of me would always tie everything back to the fact that you were dead.”

Donovan’s chest squeezed, so tight it hurt.

I’m sorry for the way I left you, he thought. Sorry for everything.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, unable to find something adequate to say. Nothing would seem like enough.

Jordynn spoke first anyway. “We’re too late.”

Donovan hissed in a breath that made his lungs burn. He started to answer, then realized her statement wasn’t actually directed at him. Instead, her attention was focused behind him.

He swiveled to follow her gaze. The bedroom window had lit up with the distinct yellow glow of a vehicle’s headlights. Then they winked out, and the muted sound of one car door slamming, then another, carried up from outside.

Donovan turned back to Jordynn. “All right, honey. No more time for arguing.”

Phone forgotten, he slid his hands to her shoulders and pulled her away from the wall, then moved to pull back the furniture she’d stacked there. But before he could even come close to lifting the nightstand, an angry yell from below announced the intruders had already made their way into the house.

Chapter 3

Donovan froze, mad at himself. Should’ve been more insistent. More forceful. Gotten her out of here and given ourselves time. A fighting chance. If she gets hurt because you couldn’t keep your heart and hands in check—

“Dono?”

At the sound of Jordynn’s voice—colored by clear desperation and completely lacking animosity now—his eyes flicked up. Her gaze was on him, scared but expectant. Needing him.

Hell.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

Donovan made himself move, made himself look around the room in search of a solution. In search of a viable plan. He was pleased when he found one immediately.

He stepped away from the barricaded door, and moved to unlock the wide window at the back of the room. With a grunt at the effort, he slid the stiff pane sideways, then knocked out the screen.

“They’ll never believe we went out that way,” Jordynn said with a frown. “It’s a fifteen-foot drop.”

“I don’t want them to believe it,” Donovan replied. “I want them to check it out, then assume it’s a diversion tactic and start searching.”

The line between her eyebrows deepened. “You want them to look for our hiding place?”

“Yep.” He nodded toward the door. “And we’re going to leave that stuff there and wait for them to come to us, too.”

Her eyes pinched with worry. “What?”

“We don’t stand a chance of getting past them. Any second, they’re going finish searching down there. Then they’ll come up, the only way they can. Which is also the only way down. We really can’t beat them.”

“But...we can’t just let them win.”

“We won’t. We’re going out the way I came in. Through the bathroom, into the closet, then out through the den.”

“The den is right beside the bedroom,” she pointed out.

“I know. But the den door is wide open, and they won’t do more than glance inside. They’ll assume we’re behind the door they can’t get into and they’ll be so distracted with trying to break through it that they won’t notice as we slip out the other one. With any luck, anyway.”

“Luck?”

Donovan nodded. “Best we can hope for.”

“And if they aren’t distracted enough?”

He met her eyes. “Then you run like hell.”

“And what do you do?”

He moved away. Something told him that if he admitted he’d be more than happy to sacrifice himself on her behalf, she wouldn’t be thrilled. Maybe she’d even be upset by it.

“Donovan?” She said his full name—the way she always had when she really wanted an answer.

He didn’t respond right away, and Jordynn’s hand landed on his elbow. The touch was electric. A renewed buzz of need and a compulsion to answer her question honestly hit him.

You never could say no to her, could you?

He turned to face her again, his mouth open. But the thump of boots on the stairs saved him from having to admit he’d gladly let them take him if it meant she’d go free.

“Time to go,” he said instead.

As they moved across the bedroom, the doorknob rattled. Jordynn jumped, and Donovan slipped his hand to hers wordlessly and offered a reassuring squeeze. He expected her to pull away. She didn’t. Instead, she clung tightly to his fingers and let him take the lead. He pulled her to the bathroom, where he slid the curtain shut—not more than another ten-second decoy, probably, but anything might help—and turned out the light before lifting the latch to the sliding door on the other side of the room.

From outside the bedroom, the rattle of the knob had been switched out for a bang on the door itself, and an accompanying order to open it before they broke it down.

Jordynn inched closer to Donovan. He knew it was just because she was scared, but that didn’t stop it from feeling good to have her so near.

“It’s all right,” he murmured as they pushed into the den closet.

He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. The scant fifteen feet between them and whoever was on the other side of that door could’ve been multiplied by a hundred—a thousand, maybe—and it wouldn’t have been far enough away.

Donovan closed the door gently behind them, then paused to look down at her in the dark. “You doing okay?”

“No.”

He couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at her honesty. “Fair enough. Let me rephrase the question. Are you ready to give this escape attempt our best shot?”

She stared back up at him, silent and still.

“Jordynn?” he prompted.

“You laughed,” she replied softly.

“Sorry.”

“No. Don’t be sorry. Not about that. I just—I never thought I’d hear your laugh again, that’s all.”

He touched her cheek, wishing he could take the time to talk to her about it. To explain, at least a little bit. She leaned into the caress for a second, then pulled away, and Donovan wondered if she would even let him try.

No time to find out now, he reminded himself.

“You ready?” he asked.

She nodded, and they slid to the wall beside the door silently, where Donovan paused to lift a finger to his lips. He stepped to the opening and leaned out.

Down the hall, a large, black-clad man slammed his foot into the door in quick succession. Thump. Pause. Thump. Pause. A second man stood beside the first, arms crossed as he waited for the bigger man to put his strength to good use.

Donovan slipped back inside, and as he did, there was a final thump, then a shattering cr-r-rack followed by a triumphant yell from the intruders.

“Now,” he said to Jordynn. “Quickly. Quietly. And don’t look back.”

He took her hand again and pulled her out into the hall. Donovan made himself follow his own order to ignore the commotion coming from the bedroom and to not check behind them. He didn’t even breathe until they’d made it halfway down the stairs.

He heard Jordynn let out a loud exhale, too. It was a shaky sound, and it reminded him that if he was scared, she must be downright terrified. He was the one who’d spent the past decade on the run. She’d simply carried on with her life there in Ellisberg, Oregon. Middle of the night runaways weren’t par for the course for her.

“Almost there, honey,” he said.

When they reached the bottom step, he pulled her to the wall, careful to keep out of view of the space where they’d tied up her assailant. He didn’t know how close to consciousness the other man was, and he didn’t want to find out, either. He eyed the hall skeptically. It would take them right past the living room and the man inside.

“Guess the front door’s out of the question.” Donovan kept his voice low.

“Do you want to go through the laundry room and into the garage?” she whispered back. “Mom’s old car is out there. We can try it, but I’m honestly not even sure it runs.”

“Garage door’ll be too noisy and car’ll be too easy to track.”

“What then?”

“Still got that little deck off the kitchen?”

“Deck?”

“The platform that hangs under the window.”

“You mean the one for the flower boxes?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You think it’ll hold our weight?”

“No.”

“Do you see another option?”

“It’s five feet from the window to the ground. If it breaks...”

“I’ll go out first. If it does break, it’ll give me a chance to use the stuntman moves I’ve been working on. And I’ll catch you when you follow.”

“How chivalrous.”

In spite of the stress-filled moments ticking by, Donovan smiled at her sarcastic mutter. “Always.”

For a second, her mouth turned up, too—just a tiny bit—and he had to rein in a compulsion to lean down and kiss those curved edges. He clenched his jaw to stop from actually doing it, and contented himself giving her hand another squeeze.

“Time’s running out,” Donovan said.

As if to emphasize his words, a crash came from above. An angry bellow followed it, and Jordynn flinched.

“Okay,” she breathed. “But if this doesn’t work, and we live, you’re paying for the repair.”

Donovan let out a low laugh, then tugged her down the hall and around the corner to the raised kitchen. He let her hand go—only because it would’ve been impossible to do what had to be done otherwise—and reached over the double sink to push open the window. When he’d swung it as wide as it would go, he turned to Jordynn once more.

“Forgive me for this, okay?” he said.

“For what?”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Heat rushed through him, fast and hard. Five seconds of pure bliss, ten years in the making. Even though he would’ve liked the moment to last forever, he didn’t let himself linger. He didn’t want to give her a chance to reject the gesture. Or to make him regret it.

So Donovan pulled away quickly. He mounted the counter, then pushed his legs through the window and tested the platform with his boots.

Solid enough, he thought, and spun around to ease himself down.

“I should be on the ground in a second or two,” he said. “You can climb up and—”

The rest of the words died in his throat as he lifted his eyes and his gaze landed on Jordynn. And the man standing behind her with a gun pressed to her head.

* * *

“If either of you move an inch, you’re both dead.”

The gravelly voice, full of smug disdain, came from far too close to Jordynn’s ear. And something about it made her want to do the opposite of what it commanded. Like staying still and obeying could possibly be more frightening than the death threat itself.

She wanted desperately to turn and run as fast and far away as she could. She actually had to force her feet to stay planted. Warm metal dug into the back of her neck, and the man’s hand pressed to the small of her back.

Run! urged her brain.

Jordynn fought the urge. She stared straight at Dono, using his face to keep her rooted to the spot. She concentrated on his lips, and the memory of how they’d felt pressed into her just a minute ago. How the kiss had sent of jolt of longing through her, reminding her how much she’d missed him for the past ten years and making her hope it wouldn’t be the last time she got to experience it. And it worked. Though she couldn’t quite stop her body from shaking, she was able to keep from bolting.

For several frantic heartbeats, Dono held her gaze with his own before he pulled his hazel eyes up to the man who held her and gave a small nod of recognition.

When he spoke, his voice was calm. “Ivan. My favorite right-hand man.”

“You remember me. I’m flattered.”

“Hard to forget the man who ate Sunday dinner at my dad’s table, then beat me soundly and left me for dead. Cracked my jaw, broke my arm and made my head ache for a month, thank you very much.”

Jordynn cringed at the mental image that formed to go along with Dono’s words, and the man behind her jabbed the gun into her a little harder. She steadied herself, but her mind was working at hyper-speed to make sense of the other part of what he’d said.

Sunday dinner?

Who was this man to Dono? Ivan. Should that name mean something to her, too? She’d spent enough time at the Grady house as a youth. But she didn’t think she’d ever heard the name, nor seen the man before. What exactly had gone on ten years earlier? Would she find out, or would she simply die wondering? Unwanted tears formed in her eyes, and in spite of the way she fought to keep them in, they quickly made their way down her cheeks.

Dono’s attention flicked her way for a moment, following the path of tears down her face, and his lips fixed into an angry line before he drew in a breath and spoke again. “Your boss clearly holds me in some pretty high esteem if he sent you.”

“You fooled him into believing you were dead, and somehow eluded him for a whole decade,” replied Ivan. “Guess that warrants some special attention.”

“Guess it does.” Dono smiled a smile that didn’t touch his eyes, then shrugged. “Well, that, or he’s pissed that you couldn’t do the job right the first time.”

Behind Jordynn, the man let out a small snarl. “If I’d wanted to kill you all those years ago, you would’ve been dead. That was simply a suggestion of how things should go, depending how you want to look at it.”

Dono glanced at Jordynn, a flicker of worry crossing his face before he spoke evenly to Ivan. “Tell you what. Let her go, I’ll come with you, and I won’t even fight you on it. I’ve actually always wanted to meet the man.”

The other man smiled, too, but even more coldly. “Not to sound cliché, but the first time you meet him will also be the last. And, Mr. Grady, if you didn’t want Ms. Flannigan to have to face the consequences, you should never have come back and you should never have brought her into it. I’m afraid I can’t let her walk away. My boss has plans for her, too.”

The statement gave Jordynn a chill, but Dono stayed outwardly cool and collected.

“I didn’t bring her into this,” he corrected. “One of your ‘coworkers’ was already here when I arrived.”

“That’s almost true. But not quite.” The gray-haired man tossed a look at Jordynn. “I’m guessing she doesn’t know.”

“Know what?” The question slipped out before Jordynn could stop it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dono said.

But Ivan’s smile had grown. And darkened.

“It’s a technicality, I guess,” he said. “But this isn’t your boyfriend’s first return to Ellisberg.”

Again, Jordynn couldn’t help but reply. “What do you mean?”

“That’s how we found out he was alive.” Ivan’s voice was smug. “Showed up for a funeral.”

Jordynn’s eyes sought Dono. “When?”

“Jordynn...” He trailed off, but Ivan answered for him anyway.

“Two years ago,” the other man stated.

Her mother’s funeral.

Jordynn’s head spun. He’d been there. Close enough to see. Maybe to touch. She swallowed. How could he have come back like that, and not spoken to her?

“Accidentally got caught on camera,” Ivan added. “Weird thing. A local crew was doing a news story that day.”

“I remember,” Jordynn whispered. “A special on the history of the cemetery. They had to stop filming before we could start the service.”

“But not before someone managed to catch Mr. Grady in action. Dark coat, hood pulled up. But the angle was just right, and my boss was sure it was you.”

A sob built up in Jordynn’s throat, and Dono reached for her. But Ivan waved the gun menacingly, blocking him from getting any closer. And she was actually glad. She wasn’t sure what would happen if he touched her right that second.

She wanted to sit down. To process it. She wobbled. And neither man seemed to notice.

“Like Mr. Grady said, though. It doesn’t matter anyway. Not now.” The man shrugged. “And my boss wants a word with both of you.”

“A word?” Dono repeated doubtfully. “You and I both know he’s not interested in a chat.”

“To be honest, what we know doesn’t matter, either,” the gunman said. “Only matters that we do what we’re told. And just in case you were thinking about jumping and running, I’ll give you another fair warning. There are two guys out there in a car on the street. Armed and dangerous, as they say. Not the subtle type, either.”

“Two thugs outside. Two upstairs. Our friend tied to the chair in the living room. And you. Six men to bring us in,” Dono said. “Either that’s overkill, or we really are special.”

“A decade-long headache can make a man do crazy things. Step back inside. Slowly.”

“You sure about that? ’Cause I’ll be even more of a headache once you actually get ahold of me.”

“Quit trying to delay the inevitable.”

“I’m just making sure this is the way you want to go.”

“Be awful to have to shoot you in front of your girl.”

“You won’t shoot me here.”

Ivan sighed and moved the gun to Dono’s chest. “You a hundred percent certain of that?”

Jordynn’s heart constricted. She tried to take a breath, and couldn’t. She couldn’t handle the thought of seeing what would happen if Dono didn’t obey the other man’s order. She hadn’t even wrapped her head around the fact that he was there. Or that he’d been there before.

Focus on the present, she told herself. In spite of it all, you don’t want to lose him all over again so quickly, do you?

“Listen to him,” she burst out. “Please.”

He met her eyes, and she saw more than a hint of worry there. And she knew he had just been stalling. Trying to come up with some way of getting them out of the situation. And she could read him well enough to know he hadn’t succeeded.

“Inside,” the man behind her barked, clearly running out of patience.

Without taking his gaze off her, Dono put both hands on the bottom of the window frame, ready to pull himself back in. Jordynn’s eyes couldn’t help but stray to his fingers. She recalled just how they’d felt clasped with hers a few minutes ago. Rough. Strong. A bit dangerous. She’d thought it was a good combination, considering their situation. Lord knew Jordynn was none of those things on her own. Now, though, their reassuring solidity seemed like a bad thing. Because they’d only help in pulling him back into danger.

But a moment later, their strength became irrelevant. It was no match for gravity.

As Dono pushed himself up, a snap echoed from beneath his feet. A flash of surprise crossed his face. Then his body tipped sideways, and he lost his grip on the window. His cheek hit the frame with a sickening crack, and he slid out of view.

For several seconds, Jordynn stood still. And so did the man behind her. Then they both moved at once, but in opposite directions. The gunman surged forward, hollering for some help, clearly intent on seeing where Dono had fallen to. But Jordynn didn’t need to check on him. She knew where he would’ve landed, and knew, too, what his options for escape would be. He might’ve hurt himself, but five feet wasn’t far enough to make her worry about broken bones. Not too much, anyway. What did concern her was getting to him before the two armed and dangerous men who were somewhere out there. That...and what they might do to him if he’d knocked himself unconscious. Or worse, if he was disoriented and wandered into their sights.

And what are you going to do stop them?

She shoved down the voice in her head. Not trying to help Dono wasn’t an option. So while her captor peered out the window, she spun on her heel and darted in the opposite direction. She leaped down the stairs and flew into the hall, then moved to open the door. But as she stepped back to fling it open, she slammed straight into a body. And it was most definitely not Dono’s.

Chapter 4

Jordynn tried to pull away, but it was too late. The big man on her doorstep was stronger. Faster. And clearly more experienced at capturing people than she was at escaping from them.

She barely reached the doorstep before his arms were around her, spinning her hard and shoving her against the exterior wall of the house. Jordynn’s chest scraped along the wood siding making her cry out. Her yelp earned her a sweaty hand over her mouth, and a heartbeat later, she was being turned again and lifted.

At the end of the driveway, she could see Tom, her neighbor, heading for his car.

Please, please!

Jordynn inhaled through her nose and tried to scream. But it was no use. The man’s palm was pressed too firmly to her lips, his grip on her chest too tight. All that came out was a wheeze. In seconds, he’d pulled her through the door, shut it again, then dragged her to the living room. There, he set her down, then shoved her roughly enough that she landed on the rug. Bits of the shattered coffee table dug into her body. She forced herself to ignore the pain.

Breathing shallowly, Jordynn crawled to the sofa and gripped its edge. She looked up, but didn’t dare stand. Especially not when she spied Ivan, pacing the room in front of the man Dono had tied to the chair. His face was dark and dangerous, and he didn’t bother to stop moving to glance at her as he addressed the man who’d tossed her in.

“Rope her up,” he ordered. “Pull some of that stuff off the Nose to do it.”

The Nose?

But Jordynn didn’t have time to consider the oddity of the nickname. Or to worry that it sounded just a little too pseudo-gangster for her liking. Because the big, rough man had begun to unwind the wire from the unconscious one. And she knew where it was going to wind up next. Her feet itched to outrun the inevitable.

“Now what?” the big man asked as he finished his task.

“I’d like to shoot them both and be done with it,” Ivan muttered.

“The boss—”

“I know what the boss wants.”

Jordynn kept her eyes down, pretending not to follow the exchange. Pretending it didn’t scare the living hell out of her.

Ivan sighed. “We wait, Denny. Hank will take those two gun-happy guards outside, and he’ll help them circle the block until they find Grady.”

“He’s gone? Thought he fell out a damned window.”

“He did. Then he got up and ran off.”

The bigger man—Denny—moved toward her, the wire in his hands. Jordynn cowered back. And wished she could help it. But he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just grabbed her hands, held them together and wrapped the wire around her wrists. Tight enough to hurt. Far tighter than necessary. When he had her secured to his satisfaction, he lifted her from the ground and tossed her unceremoniously onto the couch.

“So Grady got away. Again,” he said. “And you really think he’s gonna stick around?”

Ivan’s eyes skimmed over Jordynn, then he went back to pacing. “He came this far. He won’t leave her. Trust me.”

Jordynn finally managed to find her voice. “Donovan let me think he was dead.”

Both men turned her way. Denny with his eyes narrowed, and Ivan with his expression impassive.

“What makes you think he’ll even bother to come back?” she added.

Ivan shrugged. “Checking up on you was his sole reason for coming back to Ellisberg. All we had to do was drop a hint that you might be in trouble, and he sure as hell came running.”

A hint?

Jordynn squeezed her jaw tightly for a second to keep from asking what he meant. To keep from revealing that she hadn’t the slightest clue about what was really going on.

“But now he knows I’m safe,” she said instead. “So he’s not going to just come back and endanger himself.”

“He knows you’re stuck here with me and Denny and Hank and the Nose. And our guns,” Ivan corrected. “Should be more than enough to motivate him.”

Jordynn shook her head. “No. He already knows you’re not going to kill me. You told him your boss wanted to chat.”

Ivan tapped his gun on his thigh, then cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. Jordynn’s heart skipped a nervous beat at the expression on his face, and she had a funny feeling her plan to divert their attention away from chasing down Donovan had gone wrong.

He smiled, confirming her suspicion. “You’re right. He probably does know you’re not in immediate danger. Denny?”

“Yeah?”

“You still a pretty good shot?”

“Nine out of ten.”

“Good. Tie Ms. Flannigan’s feet together, and gag her, too.” Ivan dug into his pocket and dragged out a set of keys. “My car’s in the alley behind the house. Take her out there, drop her in the trunk, then start the engine and walk back up to the house. You can wait by that big tree in the yard for Grady. He won’t be able to resist the opportunity. When he gets close...shoot him in the knee—maybe both knees—then toss him in the backseat.”

Jordynn fought a gasp and made a last-ditch effort to save herself from being used as bait. “What if he’s not close enough to see?”

“He is.” Ivan sounded utterly sure.

She might’ve argued a little more, but Denny was on her again, his hands working fast to stuff a piece of balled-up cloth into her mouth. When he was done with that, he used another piece of wire to secure it in place, then bound her ankles. In under two minutes, he had her strung up and lifted onto his shoulder.

As he carried her from her living room to the door, Jordynn couldn’t decide what she wanted more—for Dono to be where they assumed he was so he could save her, or if she hoped he’d run for real. She valued her own life. But she couldn’t stand the thought of being directly responsible for Dono’s death. She’d experienced enough guilt over being sure she could’ve done something to prevent his fake one.

I can’t go through that again.

A blast of air hit her as Denny opened the door, and when Jordynn saw that the sun was up almost completely now, a new hope came to mind. More people would be awake. Her neighbor—Tom—he was the earliest riser on the block. But others would be stirring soon, if not now. Making their breakfast, going to work.

Someone will see us and call the police. Someone has to.

But the hope fizzled quickly. Denny kept pressed close to the house and out of view of the street, and the large hedges that lined the yard provided plenty of cover. He slid smoothly along the edge of the building, moving like Jordynn’s weight was nothing. As he snapped open the back gate and moved swiftly down the driveway toward the alley, she wished she were confident enough to drive her bound hands into his kidney and fight like crazy to get away. But she wasn’t convinced she was strong enough to hurt the big man, let alone do enough damage that he’d be forced to drop her. And even if she could do it, she somehow doubted she’d be able to get away faster than he could recover.

Still.

She couldn’t let herself just be taken without a fight, no matter how futile it seemed.

She lifted her arms, then slammed them into his back. Denny didn’t even grunt.

Jordynn made a second attempt. He just spun her around, bent down and dumped her to the ground. She let out a cry—or at least tried to—as her whole body smacked against the gravel. She fought the tears that wanted so desperately to come. She rolled to her back and refused to let them out, staring up at the tree cover above her.

Before that second, she’d always loved the evergreen that grew between the backyards. But right then, they served no purpose but to block her from view of anyone who might be inclined to call 911. And the sight of them above her just made her want to cry even more.

It intensified when Denny spoke. “This plan’ll work even if you’re unconscious. If you don’t want me to make that happen...nod.”

Jordynn forced her head up and down, and the big man reached down to pick her up again. Her despair grew even worse when he folded her into the sedan’s trunk, then slammed the lid shut, pitching her into near-complete darkness. Then the car hummed to life, and Jordynn remembered Denny’s plan to leave it running with her still inside, and those tears threatened again.

She needed something to pull her out of it. But her mind was as dark as the trunk.

So you’re just going to do what? Give up? Rely on Dono, who really might not be coming?

Then—somehow—she found her much-needed motivation.

Donovan.

Or more specifically, the idea that once again, she might never see him. Might never hear his laugh.

His laugh.

God, how she’d always loved the sound it. The way it felt on a pillow next to her head. How it boomed when he really let it go. It was something she never thought she’d hear again. And truthfully, her memory hadn’t done it justice. The bass-y noise warmed Jordynn, tugging at her heart far more than she wanted it to. She wanted to smile and cry at the same time. And wanted to hear it again.

It was enough to remind her that she had no interest in being bait.

She heaved sideways and eyed the taillights. Quickly, she decided that even if she could kick them hard enough to break through the double layer of plastic, it would do no good. And it would alert Denny to the fact that she wasn’t simply letting him use her the way he wanted to.

Jordynn rolled to her back, toyed with the idea of slamming her feet into the lid, then dismissed that, too. The noise might bring help. But more likely it would just bring Denny.

Frustrated, Jordynn exhaled and tilted her head to the other side. Through the cushion backs, she could see a sliver of light. And with that...a sliver of hope.

She inched closer, then reached her bound hands out and ran them along the edge of the seats, right where they met the trunk. She squeezed her fingers into the opening and felt around for a latch. The metal hinges scraped across the backs of her wrists, but Jordynn didn’t stop. She pushed farther in, and in moments, she found a stiff piece of plastic. When she closed her fingers on it, it sprung up with surprising ease. And as she nudged the seat with her shoulder, it folded forward. For a second, Jordynn was surprised into stillness.

Her brain caught up first.

You did it! Now go, go, go, it urged.

And her body was quick to listen.

She wriggled over the flattened seat, careful to keep low and out of sight. It wasn’t exactly easy to be subtle with both her ankles and her wrists tied together. When her hips got stuck in the narrow opening, it took every bit of core strength she had to pull herself through. Her lungs burned with the exertion, and she was as sweaty as she got running her mile-a-day workout. But her hard work paid off. In under three minutes, she made it through to the back. Another thirty seconds—and a fight with the center console—put her in the driver’s seat. The keys jangled in the ignition. Waiting.

What now?

A glance out the window told her she didn’t have long to decide.

Dono’s familiar form had appeared at the end of the alleyway. And Denny was already slithering along the fence toward him.

* * *

The woman he loved, in easy reach.

The woman he loved, trapped in the trunk of a car.

No one in sight and the car in question running for too many minutes.

Logically, Donovan knew it was a trap.

But logic has nothing to do with it, he thought. And besides that...I’ve waited long enough.

He slowly stalked toward the sedan, his eyes on the prize, but stopped short when a flash of red in the front seat caught his attention. He stared for a long second. There it was again.

“Holy hell,” he murmured. “She got out.”

Impressed and encouraged, he took another step forward. It was that one extra stride that saved him as a silenced bullet flew through the air. Instead of hitting him, it dug itself deep into the ground near his foot.

His eyes flew up in surprise.

There.

A man in the shadows and a flash of silver. And the click of a gun cocking.

Donovan dived, and this time the shot went wide, lodging in the fence beside him.

He threw himself forward, aiming his full body weight at the shooter, who clearly wasn’t expecting an attack. The other man edged away clumsily, and a fist came flying toward Donovan’s gut. The punch was a wild one, though, and it just grazed his T-shirt.

Donovan stumbled, sending up a cloud of dust from the gravel beneath his feet. Even though he recovered quickly, the gray dirt was already in his eyes and mouth, blinding him and making him cough. A second punch came quickly, and the blur of movement was Donovan’s only warning. And this time, he wasn’t quite fast enough. Thick knuckles landed on his shoulder. He spun to the side, then dodged as the attacker jumped forward again. He scrambled backward, cursing as he dug the dust from his eyes. He cleared it just in time to see that the other man was headed toward him once again—and he was surprisingly quick for a big man. He flew at Donovan, fists coming in rapid succession. The action forced Donovan to take on a defensive stance, blocking blow after blow with his elbows and forearms.

Finally, desperate to change the exhausting rhythm, he dropped his arms and let the big man land a hit to his chest. The move had the desired effect. His assailant was surprised into letting the pattern drop, and the extra heartbeat of time was all Donovan needed to gain some control.

He stepped back, then lifted his foot in a sharp jab. His boot landed on the other man’s shin and sent him down to one knee. Donovan followed the initial kick with a second one, this time to the stomach. He started to issue a third, but the man beneath him reached up a meaty fist, gripped his ankle, then twisted it and brought him to the ground.

Donovan landed with a grunt, then rolled out of the way as the other man pushed to his feet and stalked toward him. As he moved, the sound of tires on gravel filled his ears.

He lifted his head and saw the sedan inching down the alley.

Jordynn.

Relief filled him as he realized she’d decided to get the car going and stood an excellent chance of escape.

As the car sped up, he turned his attention back to saving his own rear end. Though the other man had paused for a second to observe the car’s movement, too, he’d already turned his attention back to Donovan.

“Looks like your girlfriend’s leaving without you,” he said with a smirk.

“Suits me just fine.”

His attacker lunged. Donovan sidestepped. He crouched and readied his fists.

The vehicle had passed them now, and was almost at the end of the alley.

Thank God.

But then it came to a full stop.

What the hell?

The car kicked into Reverse and tore backward instead. It came in wildly, picking up speed, its back end bumping and turning with the acceleration.

“Guess she changed her mind,” the other man said, then lunged again, seeking to take advantage of Donovan’s temporary stillness.

It was a mistake. At the exact moment that he moved, the car’s random path took on a purpose. It angled toward the big man. Then kept going, straight and steady. It slammed into him, knocking him aside with a thud.

Donovan stared at the man’s crumpled form for a moment, then brought his gaze up. From the driver’s seat Jordynn stared back at him, her face a mask of pale, pale shock. Like she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Then she blinked, and her mouth moved.

Get in, she was saying.

It only took him a second to comply. He darted to the other side of the car, flipped open the door and jumped in.

“Thank you,” he said.

Jordynn licked her lips nervously. “Did I kill him?”

“No, honey.”

“You’re sure?”

“He was twitching just fine.”

“Okay.” She turned her attention out the front windshield.

“We should go,” Donovan said gently. “Before the rest of them figure out what’s going on.”

“I know.”

She didn’t move, and he tried again. “If you want me to drive—”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Jordynn...”

She exhaled. “Let’s just...not talk right this second.”

She took her bound hands and slipped the car from Reverse into Drive, then placed them on top of the steering wheel.

He obeyed her need for silence, but Donovan could only stare at her delicate wrists for a moment before taking action. He fumbled through the untidy stack of objects in the center console until he found a box cutter. He promptly snapped it up and flicked it to the narrow wire that held Jordynn. She didn’t quite flinch as his fingers dug between her wrists and worked in a sawing motion to set her free.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Donovan issued a short nod, then leaned away again as she guided the car to the end of the alley, this time slowly, then into the street. He fought the urge to ask again if she was all right.

Dumb question. No matter what she says about being fine, it doesn’t make it true.

She was tied up. Had just found out her long-dead boyfriend was actually alive. Had been held at gunpoint, and had her life turned upside down. So far from fine it wasn’t even funny. All because of him.

So he let her drive in silence, not asking where she was headed, not telling her where he thought they should go. Instead, he stared out the window, watching the streets pass by. From what he could see, the town hadn’t changed much. Not in this area, anyway. The same grocery store on the same corner. The same elementary school across from the same high school.

Donovan had a hard time believing that at one point in his life, he’d never been farther than the town limits. Even harder to wrap his head around the idea that he’d never wanted to.

Of course, it had never been Ellisberg itself that’d held him.

His eyes slid back to Jordynn.

Twelve years old.

That was his age when he first realized he’d fallen in love with her. He’d wooed her patiently through their teen years, waiting for her to clue in that it was a forever kind of deal. The easy stuff came first. Movies and stolen kisses and handholding. Then there’d been the complicated stuff. Lovemaking and naming babies they hadn’t had. And the serious stuff. Saving the money from his paper route, then from pumping gas at the local station, until he finally had enough to pay for the promise ring he gave her on her sixteenth birthday.

Donovan had never cared when people called them crazy, or said they were too young. He’d known what he’d wanted and that it would never change.

“Until it did.”

He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until she answered him. “What?”

“Nothing, honey,” he said quickly. “Just thinking aloud.”

She glanced his way, then back out the front again, then spoke in a shaky voice. “Did you really come back for my mom’s funeral?”

He closed his eyes for a second before answering. “I needed to know that you were okay.”

“Didn’t you know already that I wasn’t? That I hadn’t been for eight years already?” The quaver had become a slightly angry one.

“I hoped you’d be healing,” he told her. “But I just...”

“What?”

“I kept thinking about when your mom was first diagnosed, and how you told me losing her would break you. I had to come.”

She inhaled a breath that somehow echoed through the car. “And what would’ve happened if you’d found me and I wasn’t dealing with it well?”

He stared out the windshield, then shook his head. “I honestly don’t know.”

She went silent for a moment, then said, “If I ask you something else, will you be honest about that, too?”

“I can try.”

She sighed, said a near-silent, “I guess that will have to do,” then she swallowed.

“These men who are after you—after us, I guess—is it because you did something wrong?”

He felt himself hesitate, bogged down by years of guilt. A decade of questioning every move he’d made since that night. And on the night itself. Wondering so often if his moral code had let him down. If it had been skewed by emotion. Hell. He’d woken up countless nights in a cold sweat, haunted by the decision he’d been forced to make all that time ago.

Had he done something wrong? Maybe. Probably more than one thing.

But not the way she means, he told himself.

And he sure as hell wouldn’t go back and change any of it.

“Dono?”

Her concern-tinged voice drew him back to the present. Jordynn’s safety had been—and remained—the most important thing to him. He loosened his balled-up hands and placed them flat on his thighs.

“Nothing is black-and-white,” he said gruffly. “But the reason they’re after me has nothing to do with anything I did.”

“Not something you did?”

“Nothing I did,” he said, changing the emphasis just enough to change the meaning, too.

She wasn’t buying it. “Either way, I don’t think you really answered my question.”

He winced. She’d never been anything but smart and intuitive. It made her excellent at reading him. One of the reasons Donovan loved her, and one of the reasons he hadn’t been able to stay.

“Did you do something wrong?” Jordynn asked again.

He couldn’t quite make the word no come out. At his silence, hurt flashed across her face.

“Do you know why I was okay, after my mom died?” she said.

Donovan didn’t want to hear the answer; he was sure he knew already. “Honey.”

“It was because the worst thing had already happened,” she told him. “Because you were dead, and there was nothing left to break.”

Guilt—white-hot and furious—stabbed at Donovan. Forcefully, he reminded himself that he’d done what he’s done for her sake. For her safety and her life.

“Honey—” he said again.

But she cut him off with a cool glare. “Don’t. Please.”

He nodded and turned to stare out the windshield instead, watching the bright horizon. He didn’t realize until that moment that they’d left the old neighborhood behind—the winding, house-thick streets weren’t even visible anymore, which meant they’d crested the top of the natural basin that held the familiar residential area. It also meant they weren’t headed in the right direction. Donovan’s eyes flicked to the side and found the nearing mountain—full of hiking trails and bubbling streams and not a single place to hide a stolen sedan—and his nerves tightened ever further. They needed the highway. The city and its anonymity. Not the wilderness.

“We need to turn around,” he said. “At the very least make our way to Salem.”

Jordynn didn’t look at him, and she didn’t acknowledge the urgency in his voice. “Do you know where we are?”

Donovan lifted his ball cap and ran his fingers over his mess of hair, then tugged his ear. “Yeah. Not where we should be.”

“Look again.”

Frustrated by the hint of stubbornness in her suggestion, but knowing from experience that arguing with her would do no good anyway, he gave the exterior scenery another glance.

Narrowing road.

Increased tree cover.

A few birds overhead.

No way out!

He shoved down the internal shout and made himself focus. To see whatever it was Jordynn wanted him to see.

And there it was. A sign that proclaimed You Are Now Approaching Greyside Mountain Park. And just beyond that—flashing between the thick foliage—a familiar gray structure that made Donovan’s stomach plummet to his knees.

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