Chapter 14
AMELIA
Without another word, Jude stepped on the brake. If he thought I was bluffing, he was sorely mistaken.
I wasn’t going to be taken willingly.
The moment he put the truck into drive, I shoved open my door and jumped.
Jude swore loudly, his frustration getting the better of him.
The sparse gravel on the cracked asphalt bit at my bare feet.
My heels were useless when it came to making a getaway, so I hadn’t cared about leaving them in the restroom.
I wasn’t making a getaway. I was making a point.
Maybe a smarter woman would have bolted into the gas station and screamed for the cashier to call the cops, but I had no idea where I was and no way to keep Joel safe if I didn’t know where he was being taken.
Keeping Joel and me apart gave Jude leverage. He knew I would do anything to keep my brother safe. As long as we were apart, I had to comply.
And then there was the other thing to consider: the part of me that truly believed Jude wouldn’t hurt me.
If he was going to hurt me, he would have done it by now. There was something else mixed in with his frustration.
Desperation.
It was the same thing I had been feeling all week.
Maybe that’s why we were kindred spirits. I just needed to figure out what he was desperate for—to escape the life he was trapped in, or to prove himself and solidify his place in it.
Neither truly guaranteed that I’d get out of this alive.
He growled under his breath as I stood just outside of the truck and crossed my arms.
“What are you doing? Get in the truck,” Jude hissed through gritted teeth as his hand did that flex-thing that he had been doing for the majority of the trip. “Don’t make me chase you down again.”
Not gonna lie, it was pretty fun pissing him off. Maybe I’d run just because he hated it so much.
“I want to talk to Joel,” I stated as I hung on to the edge of the door.
“No.”
I shrugged like it was of no concern to me. “Suit yourself. Time to get your cardio in.”
Jude growled under his breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “It’s not safe.”
I cocked my hip. “You were about to call your goon to see if he had him yet. If he’s alive, then there shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Cole is not a goon,” Jude deadpanned.
I arched an eyebrow. “See now, you could have started with his name like a normal human being.”
Jude pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get. In. The fucking. Truck.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Or what?”
I wanted him to say it. To say that if I didn’t cooperate, he’d kill me himself. Maybe it was the adrenaline talking. Or maybe the exhaustion. But knowing that he really was a bad guy would make things a lot simpler.
But was he a bad guy?
A bad guy wouldn’t have gotten me pretzels and a Coke. Or maybe Stockholm syndrome was part of his master plan . . .
“Or we’ll lose the cover of darkness,” Jude huffed.
Oh. That was . . . reasonable.
“Where are we going?”
Jude’s jaw clenched.
“Cardio or cooperation. Your choice.”
Jude groaned. “If I promise to tell you most of what you want to know, will you just get in the goddamn truck?”
What he said about not making promises he couldn’t keep floated through my mind. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
“You’re going to let me talk to Joel,” I said, still lingering outside the truck.
“I can’t guarantee he’ll be . . . awake.”
“Why?” I snapped.
“For the same reason you weren’t awake for a while. The purpose of extraction isn’t just getting the subject out. It’s making the people coming after them believe that something happened other than what really happened. It’s—”
“Storytelling.”
“Yes,” Jude said. “I don’t know how Cole got him out, but he said that he could do the job and get him to safety. I trust he did.”
At this point, that was as much as I could hope for.
Reluctantly, I climbed back in the truck and buckled my seatbelt. Jude dialed with one hand while pulling out of the lot without a moment’s hesitation—probably in case I jumped again.
He pressed the phone to his ear and waited, but it wasn’t long until Jude said, “Is it done?”
“Put it on speaker,” I barked, loud enough for this “Cole” to hear.
Jude glared at me, then pulled the phone away from his ear, tapped a button, and held it between us. “Go ahead,” he grumbled as he pulled back onto the highway, driving west as the midnight sky behind us began to turn a deep navy.
“Target secured. En route to a safe house.”
“A” safe house. Not “our” safe house or “the” safe house. That meant there was more than one.
Jude huffed. “Can you provide proof of life?” He peeled his eyes off the road just long enough to glare at me. “I have a really annoying hostage who’s threatening to make me run.”
“Dude, you hate running.”
“Yeah,” Jude groused.
There was a pause. “He has a broken nose, but he’s alive.”
“What?!” I shrieked. “You broke my brother’s nose, you sick basta—”
“Is he”—Jude glanced at me, gauging my reaction—“awake?”
“He’s taking a nap.” Cole cleared his throat. “And I’m sorry to your hostage for what I did to her apartment. But the blood from the broken nose helped sell the story.”
I dropped my head into my hands and groaned. “I’m not getting my security deposit back, am I?”
“If we make it out of this, I’ll pay you back your deposit myself,” Jude said.
“I’m holding you to that,” I grumbled.
“Uh, not to butt in on your lovers’ quarrel, but I’ve gotta go. I need to make it back up north and get your boy stashed,” Cole said. “I grabbed your girl’s money in case someone comes looking for it. I’ll keep it in the safe at HQ.”
My throat grew tight as exhaustion, grief, and fear warred for the front seat of my mind. “Please keep him safe,” I whispered, more to myself than to Cole. The money was worthless at this point.
“I’ll do my best, ma’am,” Cole said before hanging up.
It was the ma’am that struck me as odd. “How do you know Cole?” I asked Jude as I preemptively wiped the tears that were welling in my eyes.
“We used to work together,” Jude said with an uncanny calmness as he turned the phone off and tossed it back in the bag.
“In the mob?”
He let out a snort. “In the military.”
Well. That was something. “How long were you in the military?”
“Little while,” Jude said, offering nothing more. Not even what branch he served in. “Not everyone leaves college and can immediately land a job with the mob. The entry-level jobs suck. If you want to get a middle-management position, you’ve gotta come in with some experience.”
I stared at Jude, blinking.
Had he . . . Had he just made a joke?
I blamed the exhaustion on the fact that I burst out laughing. Jude cracked a smile as he relaxed in the driver’s seat.
“You know, I don’t think kidnapping your mark instead of killing her is going to get you that promotion to upper management.”
Jude’s eyes fell away from the road for a split second. His exhaustion was brief but very present. “If we make it out, I’m retiring.”
“I don’t think the mob would be too keen on people retiring.”
“They’re not. The severance packages suck. Retirement packages . . . those suck even more.”
A distinct heaviness filled the cab of the truck. I didn’t know how long Jude had been awake, but exhaustion crept through my veins the same way the chloroform had flooded my lungs. He had to be feeling it too.
“Where are we going, Jude?” I asked, tacking on his name to keep it personal. The more we saw each other as people, the more we’d trust each other.
Or maybe the more likely it was that he wouldn’t decide to cut his losses and leave me behind—or worse.
We passed two exits by the time he finally answered. “West Virginia. There’s a safe house out there. It’s not fancy, but it’s prepared.” He tipped his head toward the floorboard on my side. “I’ll find you some shoes.”
“Where is the safe house that Cole is taking Joel to?”
“I don’t know,” Jude said. I had a hunch that he wasn’t being evasive. Jude was tough to read, but I had a feeling he was telling the truth. “Sometimes it’s better not to know.”
“Why?” I croaked. “He’s . . . he’s safe, right?”
Jude swallowed and worked his hand down the side of his beard. “Someone can’t extract information from you that you truly don’t know.” He reached over and squeezed my hand. “So if I don’t tell you something, trust that I’m doing that to keep you safe.”
I wanted to cry the moment he let go. My eyes burned. My throat cinched like a belt. My skin prickled with pent-up electricity. My breath came in short gasps.
But the tears never happened.
“I know you’re scared,” Jude said softly. “I know you don’t trust me.” He squeezed the steering wheel again. “But we’re going to lay low for a little while and then figure out a way out of this.”
All I could do was nod.
Jude craned down, reached into the bag, pulled out a zip-up jacket, and handed it to me. “Try to get some sleep.”