Survive the Hunt Page 13

  They jogged in eerie quiet for fifteen minutes before his steps slowed. His glance brushed her. “It’s okay to talk now.” He kept his voice pitched soft and low.

  She took a minute to get her wind back. “I need to ask you something, and I’d like an honest answer,” she said as quietly.

  He sent her a wary side-eye. “I will if you will. One for one.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed. “Why’d you really take the hard-drives, then try to freeze me out at the reception?”

  Aidan sighed. “You’re as persistent as honey badger. You get your teeth into something and don’t let go, do you?”

  “Is that your one question?”

  Another sigh, heavier this time. “I told you, DiMarco is dangerous. Fucking deadly. And as promised, I will protect you. No matter what I have to do, including make him, or his crew, come after me instead. God’s honest truth.”

  Her stomach pitched. Sometimes the truth was damn terrifying. For six months, she’d watched this ultimate protector put himself in the line of fire to guard civilians and his team. Aidan would give his life for hers.

  Duty ... or something more?

  “I showed you mine, Zagretti. Your turn. I’ve never seen you anything but fearless. Is there a specific reason you’re petrified of the dark?”

  Crap! Out of all the possibilities, he would choose that.

  Lifelong warnings never to speak the unspeakable made her automatically hesitate. But this was Aidan asking. And she’d agreed to the terms. Zoe took a deep breath of pine-scented air ... and threw off conditioned wariness like a stained, torn coat that no longer fit. “My mom had to get what work she could, mostly night shifts. I was alone a lot, starting at a very young age.”

  “How young?”

  “Six.”

  “Too damn young.”

  “She couldn’t help it.” Just as Zoe couldn’t help leaving her mom in a distant care center. But she would reunite with her as soon as possible. “Mom didn’t like it, either, but couldn’t afford sitters. Couldn’t afford the money ... or ... the risk.”

  “Risk?”

  Her nerves jittered. Being honest about herself was rougher than expected. How would a cop from a long, proud lineage of dedicated lawmen feel about her seedy background? She swallowed hard. “My—my parents never married, and mom kept her own place. Their relationship was volatile, they often needed time apart. Mom told me that a few months after my third birthday, they had a vicious fight over a large amount of cash she’d found.” She swallowed again. Her voice dropped. “I don’t remember anything about it, but apparently, she threatened to take me and leave and he ... um ... tried to kill her. Mom managed to break free and tossed the money out the window. While he was retrieving it, she grabbed me and we ran for our lives.”

  Aidan stumbled as Zoe’s confession slammed his defenses with a steel battering ram—caving them all in. Jesus. He’d guessed she’d had a tough childhood, but never imagined life-or-death trauma.

  His life’s work was to put people like her father behind bars. To guard the innocent. Yet, he couldn’t do one damned thing to ease her pain.

  His hands fisted. He’d rather face unrelenting torture than be helpless. Than be powerless to keep someone else from being hurt. The inability to protect his loved ones was his worst nightmare.

  He didn’t want to examine the reasons why protecting Zoe had catapulted to the top of his list.

  Joined to her at the wrist, he couldn’t hide his intense reaction. Her fingertips tentatively touched his clenched, vibrating fist, and he forced his fingers to relax and curve around hers. He didn’t want her to mistake anger for revulsion.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Even while involved in conversation, he continually assessed their surroundings, kept his ears attuned to background noises. No sounds of pursuit followed them. “Fathers are supposed to keep their little girls safe. Not hurt them.”

  She inhaled shakily, and he slowed his stride to let her catch her breath. “The worst thing was, every time I’d finally start to settle into a new place, mom would glimpse a face on a crowded street, receive an anonymous hang-up, or get ‘a bad feeling.’ Then we’d pull up stakes and run again. Sometimes on a moment’s notice.”

  So she’d never even known a real home. At least when his world imploded, he’d had his family. He guided her around jumbled boulders, squinting up through imposing treetops to ensure they were traveling in the right direction. Zoe rubbed her arm and shivered. He glanced at her. “Are you cold? The temperature drops in these woods at night.”

  “No, exercise is keeping me warm. My past is coming back to haunt me. When I moved to Riverside, I vowed I’d never run again.” The sorrow in her eyes wrenched his heart. “Yet here I am in the dark woods—being hunted.”

  Savage resolve burned inside him. “I meant what I said, Zoe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Even if he had to die in order to prevent it. Again, he didn’t question the compulsion, simply accepted it.

  “Even though I’m really scared, I feel safer with you here.”

  He visually scanned the area, listening intently as they hiked. The undergrowth rustled with small animals settling for the night. Crickets chirped steadily from the bushes. Normal night-time noises assured him their pursuers were nowhere in the vicinity. “You’re doing terrific.”

  “I used to be okay about being alone at night. I mean, I wasn’t crazy about it, but I wasn’t afraid. I watched a lot of TV to keep me company. Still do.” She slanted a wry smile at him. “Thus, the abundant movie trivia.”

  He gently squeezed her fingers, still entwined in his. The feeling of being intimately linked to this woman—and not just physically—was freaky. But not all bad. Sometimes he felt alone even in the midst of his family. Startled, he realized he hadn’t felt as alone since Zoe blasted into his life. “My movie trivia skills are because when we were growing up, Letty’s husband Max worked security at a theater chain and got more free tickets than they could use. Mom had four rambunctious boys to entertain through a buttload of rainy Northwest winters on a cop’s salary. Free movie tickets were a godsend.”

  “I bet.”

  He hated to ask, but had to know. “What happened to make you so afraid?”

  She bent her head, fiddled with her bag. The pause lasted so long he decided to tell her it was okay, to forget it. They clambered over an upended log. Before he could say anything, she spoke. “The year I turned seven, we found an abandoned travel trailer parked in a remote campground somewhere in Oklahoma. It was winter, and the campground was deserted. Rent-free and hidden. We had the restrooms with showers all to ourselves, quite a luxury compared to the mini closet in the trailer with a can toilet.”

  Jesus, he’d thought roughing it was six people using two bathrooms. He encouraged her with another press of his fingers while lifting a low-hanging branch for her to step underneath.

  “An hour after mom left for her waitressing shift at a truck stop, a fierce windstorm hit, knocking out the power. So far away from the city, it was pitch black and no other people were around. Alone in that dark trailer, I heard crashing and banging outside and freaked out, thinking my father had found us and was breaking in. I had no way to get help. We couldn’t afford a phone.” The hitch in her voice damn near killed him. He’d vowed to keep her safe, but had no way to protect her from her past. “Anyway, who could I have called?”

  “The police.”

  “Even nowadays, with stalking laws in place, women have trouble getting help. Besides, my father claimed to have ‘connections’ and Mom wasn’t sure exactly how far-reaching they were. He could’ve been involved with the mob, or had cops on his payroll. He didn’t allow his photo to be taken and often used an alias.” She was trembling, and he slid an arm around her waist and drew her close. “He was a nameless, faceless evil. Always behind us, always lurking in the shadows threatening to snatch me away.”

  “Ah, sweetheart, I’m sorry. What a terrible way to live.”


  “I spent so many years being terrified.” She moved closer to him, until their shoulders nearly touched. “I had my own personal bogeyman.”

  He hesitated. He’d unwittingly spilled his guts to her at the landfill. This time, he made a deliberate decision to confide in her. “In a way, I know how you felt.” Hard as it was, opening his own wounds might provide her some comfort. If nothing else, she’d understand his empathy. Know he wasn’t merely spouting platitudes. “When Pop was murdered, I felt like a nameless, faceless evil had snatched him away.”

  She nodded. “Now the evil has a name. Tony DiMarco.”

  Yeah, and when all the evidence was accumulated, DiMarco would finally get his long overdue punishment. “Pop’s loss trapped me inside a dark, empty hole. I was afraid it would never be light again. But at least I had family to help me.”

  She squeezed his hand this time. “I’m really glad you did.”

  Her generosity in the face of her own pain was nearly overwhelming. He forced himself to continue. “The loss was much harder for Mom. Mom and Pop were crazy about one another. Sometimes, they’d share these looks that didn’t include us boys. Private, special glances. She was the center of his world, and he, hers.”

  She smiled. “That’s wonderful. Love like that is beautiful and priceless. Everyone yearns for that kind of love.”

  He’d seen the destructive power of that love. “Not me. I don’t want to leave a grieving woman behind to fend for herself. I don’t want to be the center of anyone’s world. Because when the center is destroyed, the world crumbles.”

  She considered for a few moments. “Your mom seems to be doing okay.”

  But it’d taken years for the anguish to fade from Mom’s face, leaving behind grief-etched lines. Years for the dullness in her green eyes to dissipate. For bad dreams to stop making her pace her bedroom floor until dawn. “I didn’t mean to make this about me. Just wanted to let you know I understand.”

  “Thank you. I know how hard it is to talk about personal pain.”

  Such a small act of kindness, yet she was so grateful. She needed more kindness in her life.

  “Aidan?” She hesitated. “You know, it’s possible for someone to be the center of your world without being your whole reason for living. I wonder what your mom would’ve done if given the choice of never loving your dad? You and your brothers wouldn’t even exist.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks, fumbling with the unexpected curveball.

  He was spared an incoherent reply when the crickets suddenly fell silent. He froze, every sense screaming to red alert. Frantic rustles sounded and twigs snapped as small night-time creatures fled.

  “Get down!” He grabbed Zoe and shoved her to the ground. Then he threw himself on top of her.

  Chapter 9

  Twelve midnight

  Aidan strained to see into the shadowed forest. Heavy footsteps jerked his focus to a nearby thicket.

  Huge glowing eyes glared back at him.

  “Shit.”

  Zoe stirred beneath him. “Who is it?” she murmured.

  “Grizzly.”

  “As in giant carnivore?”

  “Sure as hell not Grizzly Adams.”

  She huddled in the ferns. “Holy shit!”

  “Get up.” Bringing her with him, he cautiously rose to his feet. And got an eyeful. Big son of a bitch, over seven feet long and probably weighing close to six hundred pounds. It would target the smallest of them—Zoe. “We have to make ourselves look large and threatening, as unlike prey as possible. Raise your arms over your head and spread them out. Wave your bag around.”

  “A-are you s-sure we won’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves?”

  “We want it to know we see it.” He deliberately spoke louder. “Bears don’t like to be surprised.

  “S-something we have in c-common.”

  Sniffing, the bear padded forward, fixated on Zoe. Prickles crawled up the back of Aidan’s neck, tightening his scalp. It either had no fear of humans, or maybe was female with a den nearby and protecting cubs. Lethal in either scenario. “You stay upright. Keep waving.” He crouched, feeling for a weapon.

  “He’s coming closer!”

  “Don’t look it directly in the eye, a stare challenges him for dominance. Back away slowly.”

  “A one-ton teddy can have any patch of ground he wants.”

  Aidan rose, gripping a thick branch. Better than nothing—not by much. He waved it. “Go on! Get outta here!”

  Zoe gulped. “Sure, that’ll work.”

  The wild animal chuffed, baring enormous, sharp fangs.

  “Okay, just keep backing away, slowly,” Aidan instructed. “Don’t turn your back on it, and whatever happens, don’t run! He’ll think you’re dinner.”

  “The bad guys want me, the bear wants me,” Zoe’s voice cracked. From behind him, she waved her bag at the beast. “Really, I never cared for popularity.”

  “Go on, you bastard!” Aidan commanded, firm but calm.

  The grizzly lowered its head. Aidan’s gut clutched. Uh oh. “If it charges, drop flat to the ground on your belly, cover your neck and play dead.”

  “Heh,” Zoe quavered. “If that thing charges, I won’t have to pretend, because I’ll croak of a heart attack.”

  “Go home, Yogi!’

  Snorting, the grizzly retreated several feet.

  “That’s it ... scram.”

  The nerve-wracking standoff lasted a damn century. Finally, the giant wheeled and padded into the forest.

  Every muscle taut, Aidan watched. Listened. The bear could decide to leap out and charge them, or circle and attack from behind.

  Unaware they were still in danger, Zoe sagged against him. “I have a new topic for a feature. ‘Close wildlife encounters of the potentially deadly kind.’ I didn’t even know the Pacific Northwest had grizzlies.”

  The crickets again began to chirp their singsong chorus. Satisfied the beast wasn’t coming back, Aidan turned. “They’re rare, but obviously here.”

  “Aren’t we special ... and lucky?”

  “Very. We’re still alive.” Keeping his grip on the branch, the only weapon he had, he supported her with his other hand. “Let’s move. We have a long way to go.”

  He pitched his voice low as he continued to listen. The men hunting them were far away in the opposite direction, but he couldn’t afford to let down his guard. He picked up speed again. “Let’s hope we don’t meet up with any cougars.”

  She uncomplainingly kept up with the brisk pace he set, though her feet had to be killing her in those sexy heels. Especially as the challenging terrain steepened. “Gah! How about you just keep those cheery thoughts on ice, SWAT?”

  He surveyed the landscape. They’d nearly reached the base of the bluff. “Watch those protruding tree roots.” He guided her around the obstacle. “Don’t worry. We probably won’t run into one.”

  “Bad guys and cougars and bears, oh my.” Threat of ravenous wild animals aside, Zoe worried about a more basic problem as she and Aidan trekked through the woods. The strain of the last few hours combined with the bear scare had only made her growing need worse. “Can we spring these handcuffs now?”

  He halted at the edge of a small clearing where his vigilant glance probed every murky nook and cranny. “A brief stop before we climb the bluff is probably safe. Do you have a pair of sunglasses in your bag? The earpiece would be perfect for picking the lock.”

  “No sunglasses.” She unzipped her bag. “I suppose the broken nail file is too wide?” At his nod, she quickly riffled the contents. “The ink stem from a pen?”

  “Too wimpy.”

  “Eyelash curler, too bulky. Mascara wand, too flimsy.” She continued the search with increasing agitation. “I have a wire-bound spiral notebook. The wire is fairly sturdy.”

  “Twisted double, that could work.”

  She hurriedly unwound the wire and passed it to him. “Have you done this before?”

  “First tim
e for everything.” He lifted their bound wrists up to a patch of moonlight and inserted the wire.

  She willed him to succeed. Fast. As her hand went numb from lack of circulation, she shifted from foot to foot. “Can you hurry?”

  “Be easier if you’d stop jigging.”

  “The thing is ... well ...” Hell. He’d seen her fibbing to Officer Ryan, wallowing in garbage, and cringing in fear of the dark. How much worse could it be? Ha. “I had several glasses of champagne at the reception. Between that and hours of abject terror, I ... uh ... need to use the facilities. Badly.”

  “This is gonna take a while. Give me an urgency scale of one to ten.”

  “Forty-three.” She couldn’t help fidgeting again. “What’s wrong? Picking handcuffs looks dead easy in the movies.”

  He snorted. “Not so easy in semidarkness, using my left hand. And these are police-issue steel cuffs, not a pair of fakes tricked out for Vin Diesel to pop with a paperclip. It’s purposely difficult, so every Tom, Dick, and armed robber can’t do it on a whim.”

  “I’m gonna have a problem.” She gnawed the inside of her cheek. “Soon.”

  “How desperate are you?”

  “More desperate than the Kardashians are for publicity.”

  “That bad, eh?” He pointed to his left. “Okay, I can stand on one side of those thick bushes, and you on the other. With our arms stretched across the top, you can take care of business in relative privacy.”

  A very distant relative to privacy. But the alternative was worse.

  Fleeing through the woods in a fitted gown and three inch heels was a snap compared to trying to squat and pee in the woods in said gown and heels—while handcuffed to Aidan like escapees from a BDSM festival.

  She located tissue from her stash in preparation and refused to think about bugs. And possible approaching armed bad guys. Not to mention woman-eating wildlife. “Aidan? Sing.”

  “Huh?” His puzzled response floated from the other side of the hedge.

  “I can’t do this with you listening. Sing.”