Read Online Hunted by Jaycee Clark - Free Book Online

she couldn’t do this. There was no way. They’d know, they’d know . . .
    “Passport or visa?” the man asked.
    Ashbourne handed them over. The man yawned, flipped through them, looked back up and stared at her.
    “Mrs. Ashbourne? Are you feeling all right?”
    John’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “She’s been ill and we’d like to return home.” He leaned and kissed the top of her head again. “We took the vacation as a last getaway before kids, ya know, but bless her, she’s not feeling at all the thing. Are you, darling?”
    She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be. Things we can’t control aren’t things to regret.” He smiled at the night man.
    The other guard was watching some rock band wail in German on a small television set off into the corner. She took a deep breath, the smell of dirt, old building, stale coffee and cigarettes filled the air.
    The guard asked, “Where are you headed?”
    “Back to Berlin for the night, or rather day. Our flight to the U.K. leaves in a day.” Ashbourne laughed. “Hopefully, she’ll get to enjoy the rest of the vacation before we have to get back to work.”
    The guard smiled at Ashbourne, typed something into the computer, stamped their passports and handed them back to them.
    “Thank you,” she muttered, still leaning on Ashbourne, the trembles growing, her breath coming faster.
    He squeezed her shoulders as he drew her closer to him. She could smell his aftershave, woodsy and clean.
    He took their passports, handed hers to her, which she managed to get into the brown backpack purse hanging from her arm.
    “You both have a good night. Thank you.”
    “Prosím . ” The guard smiled at her. “Hope you get to feeling better, Mrs. Ashbourne.”
    She nodded and mumbled, “I do as well.”
    “Enjoy Germany.”
    They walked through. Her legs were shaking so badly, she didn’t know how she didn’t fall. Waiting . . . Waiting for them to yell, “Stop!”
    Please, please, please, she silently begged. The air outside bit into her face and she realized snow was starting to fall. She shivered again as Ashbourne walked them back to the car.
    “Keep going. Don’t look back.” He tightened his hold around her waist and she hissed, her ribs still sore from two days ago and the client that liked to punch as much as thrust.
    She shoved the thought away and let Ashbourne help her.
    What if the guards knew?
    They still had to actually drive over the border. The car started without a problem. She glanced into the side mirror, saw the man who had helped them was not at the desk in the now empty building. The other guard who had ignored them talked on the phone. From here she saw him frown, look up then scan the lot, his gaze focusing on them as the car rolled forward. The border and toll booths loomed large in front of her. The steel and metal a cold skeleton.
    They drove through.
    She sighed and leaned back against the seat.
    The phone call . . .
    “That was close,” he muttered.
    She saw no reason to answer him, to voice what some part of her knew.
    The phone call . . . the guard who hadn’t so much as looked at them . . .
    Mikhail knew. She could feel it. He knew she was gone.
    A shudder racked her body and she looked out the window even as Ashbourne leaned over and flicked on the heater and the stereo. Like the drive up to Děčín, she remained silent and simply stared out at the night.
    The dark German landscape blurred by in indiscernible shadows. She leaned her head back against the seat, trying to relax. She focused on the sound of the classical music playing softly on the speakers.
    Classical music.
    Heat warmed the interior of the Saab. Dusk had layered a sweater over her turtleneck and even had on a camel-colored peacoat that they’d given her. She was still cold. Cold to her bones. Mr. Reyer—no, Mr. Ashbourne, her husband for any who inquired as the guards had—had also supplied her with a simple gold band to complete the illusion