AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The gunmen who’d been ahead of us rounded the corner. Looking out from under the truck, I saw one, two, three sets of boots. They were muttering to each other, tense and foul-tempered. I held my breath. But they walked right past. It’s going to work!
Then, from behind us, more voices. The other group of gunmen entered the alley...and the two groups stopped as they met, right next to the truck. Oh no...
We lay there, barely daring to breathe. The gunmen seemed confused: the plan must have been to pincer us between them and they didn’t understand where we’d gone. Their boots shifted in the dirt as they looked around. Don’t look under here, I begged. There’s no one under here.
One man wandered closer. His boots stopped three inches from JD’s ear. I dug my fingernails into my palms, staring at the black leather toe caps, holding my breath.
Then the gunmen seemed to form a plan, and the two groups moved back off in the directions they’d come. When the alley was clear, all three of us slumped in relief, going limp against the ground. JD made us wait a full minute still lying there then we crawled out and ran on.
Up ahead, I could hear traffic and bustle. JD turned and spoke over his shoulder. “There’ll be people up here. Crowds.”
I nodded. Crowds were good, we could disappear. And with so many witnesses, the gunmen might back off.
I had my hand pressed against his back again and I was self-consciously aware of how good it felt. There was something about him, and it went beyond those gorgeous looks and that deep Texas growl.
JD made me think of a massive tree with deep, deep roots that would stand firm even in a hurricane. It wasn’t just his big, muscled body or his stubborn scowl. It was what he did. He didn’t even know our names, but once he’d decided he was going to protect us, that was it, no wavering. And that connected with something deep inside me.
When things are bad, I’ve always taken comfort in things that are solid. As a kid, when a storm was blowing outside the window, I didn’t reach for a stuffed rabbit or a Barbie. I used to put my hand on this vintage Tonka truck my dad gave me, so old that it was made out of metal. When my dad was away on business and I was missing him, I used to go into his home office and sit with my back against his desk, which was made from mahogany and needed four people to lift it. Maybe it was my weird brain, even back then, so full of abstract math and physics that I needed something I could touch, for balance. Or maybe I loved the permanence of big, solid things because I sensed, long before my dad explained it to me, that there was a mom-sized gap in my life.
Even now, when I’m overwhelmed by work and people and being a mom, when I feel like I’m going to be swept away, I put my forehead against the cold stone of a wall for a second and soak in its solidness.
I’ve always needed that feeling. Searched for that feeling.
I’d never known you could get it from a person.
Up ahead, the alley met a busy street, the sidewalk crammed with people. I squeezed Cody’s hand. We were almost safe.
And that’s when the gunman stepped out of the side alley ahead of us.
4
JD
My gun came up. His gun came up. We froze, both staring down a muzzle.
Everything else dropped away. I could still feel the heat of the sun on my bare forearms, and hear the traffic rumbling up ahead, but it was distant. My whole world was the figure in front of me in jeans, plaid shirt, and a ski mask. My brain sucked down every detail, desperate for anything that might give me an edge. He was smaller than the others and lightly built, too. But he was calm. I could see his shoulders moving as he breathed slow and deep, the same as me. He’d seen combat before.
If one of us fired, the other one would. We’d both die. He knew it and I knew it.
Without taking his eyes off me, the guy jerked his head to the left. Move! He was giving me a chance to walk away. Behind me, I heard Lorna catch her breath.
But I’ve never been much for quitting. That’s why the Army suited me: just a big, dumb ground pounder; point me in the right direction and I’ll get there, no matter how many brick walls I have to march through. Jillian used to tell Max his daddy was half man, half mule.
I spoke, my voice filling the alley. “Here’s how things are. I don’t know what problem you got with this woman and her kid, and I don’t especially care. If you want ‘em, you’re gonna have to come through me. So how about you back away, and I won’t have to put a bullet between your eyes?”
