Chapter 7
Daisy was shaking so hard she couldn’t breathe and couldn’t see. Her teeth began to chatter. “Did I mention I hate enclosed spaces?”
“That’s why you don’t take the elevator?”
“Yes.” The old blanket smelled ever so slightly of grease and clogged her mouth and nostrils.
Jordan had wedged himself into the cramped space, his back pressed tightly against her front. Her leg was bent in an uncomfortable fashion, and her knee was beginning to ache.
“I’m sorry. Close your eyes, and whatever you do, don’t move or make a sound,” he murmured. “They’re here.”
Oh, God.
The blackness pressed down on her, along with a sense of overwhelming fear.
Going from drinking wine on the beach with one of the top professors in her field, to him being brutally murdered, and now, her cowering in the trunk of a stranger’s car along with Jordan Krychek of all people, made her head spin.
Thankfully, she wasn’t fully phobic. She wasn’t. She squeezed her eyes shut. It was just dislike. An intense and visceral dislike. Mastering her fear could be the difference between life and death—and she really wanted to live.
Gradually, she got a hold of her breathing.
She followed the news. Knew the sort of criminals her father and Jordan pursued.
She had a good idea what the cartel could do to them if they were caught.
She’d seen articles about mass graves in Veracruz and dead bodies dumped on the side of the road.
The violence had calmed down in recent times and rarely affected tourists—as long as they kept to the resorts. And, yet, Francois was dead.
Had the cartel killed him?
She heard their pursuers then. Shouts and curses in Spanish. Men sounding frantic and angry.
Her heart pounded as she gripped the back of Jordan’s shirt so tight her fingers hurt.
Oh, God.
Footsteps echoed around the garage, and the entire car shook as someone tried to open the trunk. Fear filled her throat and mouth. Every muscle in her body wept as she held back a whimper. The shouts and voices moved away.
Had they gone? Were they safe now?
She was about to say something when Jordan reached back and squeezed her thigh as if in warning.
She clamped down on her words.
After another full minute passed, there was a shout from a few feet away, and terror ping-ponged inside her like neutrons in a reactor. To think she’d almost said something that could have given away their location…
The sound of a police siren cut through the night air, and she could hear swearing and footsteps as the men hunting them ran away.
After another anxious minute, when all seemed quiet, Jordan shuffled around to face her. Not that she could see more than dense shadows.
“How are you holding up?” His voice was a soft whisper of breath.
She was shaking, sweat making her skin clammy. “Sick, scared, may have peed my pants. How about you?”
“Same.”
That got a quiet chuckle out of her because, despite the situation, he wasn’t even sweating.
“What would you have done if they’d opened the trunk?”
“Blitz attack the guy and grab his gun, kill the others, get back into the rental, and head for the airport.”
He made it sound so easy and matter of fact, when she knew it was anything but.
“What are we gonna do now?” She stretched her leg to ease the kink in her knee. “Can we get out?”
He folded the blanket behind their heads to form a kind of pillow and shifted slightly so he was lying diagonally on his back with his feet over his backpack. “Smartest scenario would be to hold position.”
“Here?” she squeaked.
He stroked her hair away from her face. “They’ll probably keep eyes on the area for the next hour or so. I figure we stay here for a few hours and try to get some sleep, then drive away when the cockroaches have crawled back under their rocks. Here, use me as a pillow. I’ve got you.”
She found herself drawn against the hardness of his body and inhaled sharply as he pulled her knee across his thighs. Her reaction had nothing to do with not liking enclosed spaces.
He froze and removed his hand. “Sorry, I was trying to help you get comfortable, but—”
“It’s fine.” She forced herself to relax, then flexed her lower leg a few times until her knee cracked. She sighed with relief.
Jordan swallowed audibly, and she realized she was moving against him in such a way…
She gripped his shirt. “Sorry,” she whispered. “My knee was stiff.”
He muttered, “I can sympathize.”
She laughed because it was that or cry, but as he drew her head against his chest, her pulse started to settle.
“Try to get some sleep.”
“I hate being in a tin can.” She gritted her teeth.
“It’s not a tin can. Just the extended back seat of a car.”
She huffed out a laugh.
“There is air all around us.”
Her mouth went dry again, and she sucked in a breath.
He stroked her arm, and she concentrated on the touch of his fingers and the way they felt on her bare skin. Soothing. Electric. Nice.
Gradually, her breathing slowed, and the rhythm of her heart eased.
“Do you think we’ll have any issues at the airport tomorrow?”
“It’s hard to say. But I doubt anyone will trouble you.”
She frowned. “What about you?”
“I’m gonna see if I can get on standby on an earlier flight.”
She raised her head a little. “You’re worried someone might target you specifically?”
She felt him nod.
“This person who you think might have killed Francois Tremblay, do you know him?”
Poor Francois, she hadn’t had the chance to really take in that the man had died tonight, only minutes after she’d turned down his offer of no-strings sex.
“I’m not sure. But if it is who I suspect, then yes, I know him. Which means, there can be no link between you and me.”
“What about the police report or being seen on the hotel cameras? You said they had access.”
“Fuck. Good point. As soon as we’re clear of any involvement in the Frenchman’s murder, you and I are going to have a public, extremely vitriolic breakup.”
Unexpectedly, the idea didn’t bring her any joy. It was probably a reaction to the night as a whole. It had been horrible. She shivered, and he gathered her closer.
The temperature, thankfully, wasn’t stifling.
In fact, it was a little chilly, so she was grateful for Jordan’s body heat.
She closed her eyes and let herself relax as she breathed in his scent.
She let her imagination play with happy thoughts rather than the reality they found themselves trapped in. It was nighttime. She was safe.
She snuggled against his chest and found a position where she was comfortable, in the circle of his arms. Slowly the terror faded into exhaustion as she finally drifted off.