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Donahue nodded, a grim smile on his lips. “I’ll be back.”
The second he left the house, she shut and locked the door. Then she went around to every window and door, making sure they were locked too. After that, she turned off all the lights and settled on the floor in the living room. In one hand she tightly grasped the gun, and in the other she held the flash drive.
Knowing what she had didn’t make anything better. Now, more than ever, she wished Ian was here to fill the silence that pressed down around her. She hadn’t been alone since the night before the shooting. Being alone now in the sheriff’s home continued to make her anxiety worse. What would happen if they showed up at the house?
Jessica held up the gun. The heavy, cold metal wasn’t like anything she’d ever touched before. She put the flash drive in her pocket and gripped the gun with both hands, aiming it across the room at the door. Was she even capable of using it?
She shuddered and put it down, pushing it closer to the couch. Wrapping her arms around her bent knees, she pressed her face into them. This had been a mistake. The second she’d found the flash drive, she should have listened to Ian. He would have given it to the sheriff, and she would still be at the ranch. Maybe she should call him. It wouldn’t hurt to tell him she was safe.
Getting to her feet, Jessica wandered over to where she’d put her duffle bag down on a chair across the room. She pawed through the bag, hunting for Brock’s phone. Her hand brushed against a cool, hard object and she pulled it out. The screen lit up with a picture of Brock next to a horse. In the background, just above his shoulder, Ian’s familiar form caught her eye. Jessica swiped to the main screen and opened up the photo gallery.
She really shouldn’t be snooping, but it was the closest thing she’d get to seeing Ian. Man, she sounded like she had a drug problem herself. She was addicted alright. Addicted to Ian, and she hadn’t even realized it until right this moment. Scrolling through the photos, Jessica paused every so often when she found the handsome face she’d grown so accustomed to seeing. She traced her fingertips around his face, a yearning growing inside her.
Leaving had been the right thing for only one reason. To keep him and his family safe. So why did it also feel like the biggest mistake of her life? What would it take to get his face out of her head? She shut her eyes and tossed the phone back into the duffle. Bracing her hands on the arms of the chair, she focused on ignoring the ache in her chest that continued to deepen.
Ian had been the best thing that had happened to her since she dropped out of high school. Unlike Tucker, he wanted to push her to be the best possible version of herself. She wasn’t used to it; maybe that’s why it frustrated her so much for him to hang that option over her head. He wasn’t judging her. He probably didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body.
Somewhere in the back of the house, glass shattered.
Jessica jumped, a screech catching at the back of her throat. She slapped her hand over her mouth, snatched the phone and scrambled across the room for the gun. Her foot connected with something hard, knocking it beneath the couch. Footsteps crunched on broken glass and more shards fell to the floor. Whoever it was had made it inside. If she could make it to a bedroom, maybe she could escape through a window. There wasn’t a chance they wouldn’t look through her pockets for the flash drive. If they found it, she was as good as dead anyway, and no one would be able to hold them accountable. She grabbed the flash drive from her pocket and shoved it between the armrest and the base of a high-backed chair, then hurried from the room.
Darting into a darkened room, she hurried to the far side toward the window. She put the phone on the window ledge. With shaking hands, she felt around the window for a latch but found none. She touched a small handle at the bottom, one that swiveled. Jessica rotated it around and around, but nothing happened. The window mechanism was broken.
Her blood rushed in her ears and her breathing came out in spurts. She spun around. The room she’d found had no other windows, only a closet. Jessica grabbed the phone and rushed toward the closet, praying there would be enough in it to hide her. She pulled open the door and ducked inside, being careful to shut it without making a sound.
Heart pounding loud enough she was certain the intruders would be able to hear it too, she pressed herself against the backside of the closet and pulled hanging clothes in front of her. She swallowed hard, gasping for oxygen and willing her heart to settle down. The phone felt heavy in her hand, reminding her that it could be her only chance at getting to safety. Ian’s face filled her thoughts, but she shook it off. She needed to call 911. There was no way Ian would get here in time.
The screen lit up as she unlocked the phone. She clicked on the call icon. The phone buzzed and Ian’s name populated the screen. Jessica gasped, nearly dropping the phone. The closet door swung open and the clothes were shoved aside.
Jessica stared up into a pair of familiar eyes. The man yanked the phone from her grasp and threw it to the ground. He aimed his gun at it and a deafening explosion filled the small space.
She screamed, her hands flying to cover her ringing ears. The tall man grabbed her wrist and wrenched her to her feet. His pudgy hands checked her pockets, and he let out a frustrated grunt before grabbing her wrist again. He hauled her from the closet and out of the room into the living room. Then he threw her to the ground in front of the couch.
“She doesn’t have it on her,” the man muttered.
On her hands and knees, her eyes traveled across the room to the duffle bag that had been turned inside out, its contents scattered on the floor. Her gaze shifted to a pair of shiny black shoes that were connected to a pair of legs. Shifting her focus, she looked up at a man who stared at her with cold, dark eyes. He sat in the chair, a gun resting on his lap.
Jessica scrambled backward, bumping against the couch. She wrapped her arms around her legs, giving him a scowl. “What do you want?”
“I think you know exactly what I want.” If it was possible, his voice was colder than his eyes. The man rubbed his jaw, his eyes traveling over her. “What? No flirtatious smile for me? I thought we’d gotten along pretty good in the diner that day.”
“That was before you killed my boyfriend.”
The wicked smile on his face disappeared, replaced with a sinister frown. “It sure looks like you made quite the rebound. Tell me, Jessica. Do you belong to one of those cowboys? Or do they share you?”
Her face flushed and her stomach roiled. The man was a snake. He looked just like a villain from one of those action films Tucker liked so much. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”
The man threw back his head and laughed. The sound caused an icy shiver to ripple down her back. “Jessica. If I wanted you dead, believe me, you would be. When you’ve outlived your usefulness, there will be nothing left of you. No. You have something that belongs to me. I want it back.” He studied his fingers as if disinterested in the conversation they were having.
Jessica forced her voice to remain steady as she glanced between him and the other two men in the room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The man in the chair leaned forward. He rested his elbow on his knee, waving his gun in the air. “Oh, I think you do.” His eyes flashed with something she’d only seen in horror films. “You have two choices.”
“Let me guess. I can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she spat. “Veryoriginal.” She knew better than to egg him on. Her only hope was to outlast him until the sheriff returned. That, or for a neighbor to call the police due to the inevitable sound of another gunshot.
The man glowered at her and strode across the room. She scowled at the floor, refusing to look at him. He crouched down in front of her, his cold eyes meeting hers.
“Where is the flash drive, Jessica?” he snarled.
