chance,” she said, her voice hoarse with self-disgust and fear.
“So much for not doubting me…”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe about your guilt or innocence of those murders,” she replied. “You were convicted. You were sentenced. And you escaped. You’re a fugitive.”
“And you’re going to turn me over to authorities,” he said, bitterness welling up inside him. He never should have started to trust her again.
“I have to,” she said, her voice cracking now with emotion and regret. “I can’t risk losing Isobel. Not even for you…”
His pulse leapt at the torment apparent in her pale blue eyes. “Not even for me?”
“I should have come forward,” she explained, “no matter what your lawyer said. I should have talked to the police then and told them about that night.”
“Yes, you should have,” he agreed. But now, knowing what she would have told them, he doubted it would have helped. He still would have spent the past three years in prison.
She held tight to her phone and tried to tug free of his grasp. “I need to talk to the police now.”
The van swerved slightly as he gripped the wheel with only one hand. But he didn’t let go, even though he glanced to the rearview to make sure no one followed them and had noticed the erratic driving. He didn’t need to get pulled over now, so close to Miller’s Valley and their daughter. “They’re not going to believe your story.”
His stomach lurched, along with the van across the snow-slick road, when he realized that. He regained control of the vehicle, but that was all he could control of this situation. No matter what she said, it was too late for her to salvage another error in her judgment.
As he had warned her, she would get in trouble for helping him now. Erica would go to jail, and their daughter would go into protective custody with strangers.
Unless…
“Give me the phone,” he ordered her in the tone of voice that had always had fellow inmates cowering in fear of him.
Erica didn’t cower; she glared at him instead. But she released the phone, tugging her hand free of his, as if unable to bear his touch. She hadn’t felt that way that night…
But had she been drugged, as she’d claimed? If she hadn’t been drugged, would she have really wanted him at all? She had easily accepted his breaking up with her before he’d left for Afghanistan. She’d never had the feelings for him that he’d had for her—or she never would have doubted his innocence no matter what lies Marcus might have told her.
Because she had no feelings for him but suspicion, he couldn’t trust her. Driving with just the one hand on the wheel yet, he punched numbers into her phone.
“Who are you calling?” she asked, her beautiful blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Listening to the phone ring, he murmured, “The only lawman I can trust…”
“Agent Cusack,” Rowe answered.
“It’s me.”
“You stubborn son of a…” His future brother-in-law cursed him—obviously not pleased that Jed had terminated their call earlier. “You need to tell me where you are, so I can bring you in. And if you hang up on me again, I will track you down and shoot you myself.”
Jed chuckled at the threat. “It’s nice to hear your voice, too.”
“Your sister can’t sleep with worrying over you. She’s going crazy.” So the DEA agent was more concerned about Macy than Jed.
That was good. Rowe Cusack was the right man for Jed’s little sister. The DEA agent loved her like Macy had always deserved to be loved—completely, devotedly and unconditionally. Now if only Jed could find a love like that for himself…
He swallowed a snort of laughter at that thought. Given his luck, there was no way he would ever find a love like his sister had. He’d be lucky to stay alive and alone.
“Tell her not to worry,” Jed said. “She’ll see me soon.”
From the passenger’s seat, Erica shot him a glance—obviously wondering about the she he talked about and how he
“So much for not doubting me…”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe about your guilt or innocence of those murders,” she replied. “You were convicted. You were sentenced. And you escaped. You’re a fugitive.”
“And you’re going to turn me over to authorities,” he said, bitterness welling up inside him. He never should have started to trust her again.
“I have to,” she said, her voice cracking now with emotion and regret. “I can’t risk losing Isobel. Not even for you…”
His pulse leapt at the torment apparent in her pale blue eyes. “Not even for me?”
“I should have come forward,” she explained, “no matter what your lawyer said. I should have talked to the police then and told them about that night.”
“Yes, you should have,” he agreed. But now, knowing what she would have told them, he doubted it would have helped. He still would have spent the past three years in prison.
She held tight to her phone and tried to tug free of his grasp. “I need to talk to the police now.”
The van swerved slightly as he gripped the wheel with only one hand. But he didn’t let go, even though he glanced to the rearview to make sure no one followed them and had noticed the erratic driving. He didn’t need to get pulled over now, so close to Miller’s Valley and their daughter. “They’re not going to believe your story.”
His stomach lurched, along with the van across the snow-slick road, when he realized that. He regained control of the vehicle, but that was all he could control of this situation. No matter what she said, it was too late for her to salvage another error in her judgment.
As he had warned her, she would get in trouble for helping him now. Erica would go to jail, and their daughter would go into protective custody with strangers.
Unless…
“Give me the phone,” he ordered her in the tone of voice that had always had fellow inmates cowering in fear of him.
Erica didn’t cower; she glared at him instead. But she released the phone, tugging her hand free of his, as if unable to bear his touch. She hadn’t felt that way that night…
But had she been drugged, as she’d claimed? If she hadn’t been drugged, would she have really wanted him at all? She had easily accepted his breaking up with her before he’d left for Afghanistan. She’d never had the feelings for him that he’d had for her—or she never would have doubted his innocence no matter what lies Marcus might have told her.
Because she had no feelings for him but suspicion, he couldn’t trust her. Driving with just the one hand on the wheel yet, he punched numbers into her phone.
“Who are you calling?” she asked, her beautiful blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Listening to the phone ring, he murmured, “The only lawman I can trust…”
“Agent Cusack,” Rowe answered.
“It’s me.”
“You stubborn son of a…” His future brother-in-law cursed him—obviously not pleased that Jed had terminated their call earlier. “You need to tell me where you are, so I can bring you in. And if you hang up on me again, I will track you down and shoot you myself.”
Jed chuckled at the threat. “It’s nice to hear your voice, too.”
“Your sister can’t sleep with worrying over you. She’s going crazy.” So the DEA agent was more concerned about Macy than Jed.
That was good. Rowe Cusack was the right man for Jed’s little sister. The DEA agent loved her like Macy had always deserved to be loved—completely, devotedly and unconditionally. Now if only Jed could find a love like that for himself…
He swallowed a snort of laughter at that thought. Given his luck, there was no way he would ever find a love like his sister had. He’d be lucky to stay alive and alone.
“Tell her not to worry,” Jed said. “She’ll see me soon.”
From the passenger’s seat, Erica shot him a glance—obviously wondering about the she he talked about and how he
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