Chapter 13
Thirteen
She hated sitting here, all alone, in a strange house. Aubrey stared at the walking boot on her left foot, which Emma had brought from home, from an injury she’d had years ago. This thing was a pain in the neck and made her feel like she was dragging a ten-pound weight behind her with every step.
She picked up the remote and turned on the television. Scrolling through the stations, nothing appealed to her, and she tossed the remote on the couch. She flopped back against the cushions. At least the couch was comfortable.
She picked up her phone—the replacement Emma had arranged for her. Five missed calls from Jenna and a handful of text messages. Good grief. With everything going on last night, she’d forgotten to turn the notifications off. She fumbled to unlock the phone and sent off a text to Jenna.
Aubrey
Hey. Sorry I didn’t answer your texts last night.
Jenna
You scared me! Where are you?
Aubrey
Yeah, about that. I can’t tell you.
Aubrey watched as three small dots appeared, then disappeared, until finally her best friend responded.
Jenna
I’m calling you. Now.
Oh boy. Jenna was persistent and would eventually ferret out the information.
Aubrey’s phone rang, and she answered it before the first ring finished. “Jenna. I’m so sorry.”
“Girl, I’m worried about you. What’re you doing?” She heard Jenna exhale. “A better question is, where are you? First, anyway.”
Aubrey paced the small room. Front window to the back wall was less than twelve steps.
“Aubrey?” The hurt in Jenna’s voice threatened to break Aubrey’s resolve.
Aubrey glanced around the corner into the kitchen. Liam and Stanton had traded off security detail a couple of hours ago. She heard the water running in the bathroom, so Liam wasn’t far.
She placed her hand close to the microphone. “Look, my house was broken into. Everything is trashed.”
“Oh, Aubrey, I’m so sorry. You worked so hard to make that place livable.”
“I’m fine,” Aubrey said—too quickly, too lightly. So she reached for the safer truth instead. “Okay, not fine fine. But safe. That’s the part I’m clinging to today.”
“Copy that,” Jenna said softly. “Technically alive. Emotionally…debatable?”
Aubrey barked a humorless laugh that turned genuine at the edges. “Yeah. Something like that. Anyway, what are you up to?” she asked, steering them away from the storm’s center.
“Not much,” Jenna said. “Props are boxed. Costumes inventoried. And don’t worry, I’m not accusing you of abandoning me to solo costume purgatory.
” A quiet sigh threaded through. “I just keep thinking how much easier it was when we did this stuff together. You plus me plus too much caffeine plus terrible wigs. Simpler times.”
Aubrey’s throat tightened. “Simpler times,” she echoed. “I miss those.”
“If you were here,” Jenna continued, “I’d make you carry the heaviest bin. But I’ll survive without you today. I always do.” She paused a beat, her tone warm. “I just want you to survive too.”
Aubrey swallowed, breath thin, heart heavy. Jenna was her person. The woman who’d show up with duct tape and cupcakes if the Marshals allowed it.
That was exactly why Aubrey couldn’t tell her where she was.
She couldn’t let Jenna start searching Aubrey’s house, sniffing for clues, or inserting herself into a federal radius she didn’t belong in. Not when the threat was still breathing free air.
Aubrey pressed a palm to her forehead. “I’m not at the house. I’m somewhere secure.” The mask returned—not defensive, simply protective. “And I need to stay here until they find Donovan.”
Jenna didn’t push. She simply absorbed. “Okay.”
Aubrey continued before Jenna could step into danger with her loyalty.
“If you see anything that feels off—strangers asking questions, someone showing up who knows too much, someone watching a little too long—you walk away. You call me. No hero moves. Just distance and instinct. Promise me that much.”
“Distance and instinct,” she repeated softly. “I can do that. I know what Finn Donovan looks like. I looked him up online. That guy is creepy.”
Aubrey gave a wry half smile. “Welcome to my world.”
“I’ll respect the perimeter,” Jenna said, “even if I hate the distance it puts between us. Because I want you alive to twist my arm into being in charge of costumes again next year.”
Aubrey exhaled, small, shaky. “Deal.”
Jenna’s voice softened further, steady as Renegade Mountain that had stood the test of time. “And hey…just stay reachable, okay?”
“Reachable, I can do.” Aubrey’s throat tightened with emotion. “I need to go. I promised to make a batch of cupcakes for Liam’s niece, Sophia. It’s her birthday. And don’t worry, I’ve got the US Marshals watching over me.”
“Don’t forget God,” Jenna reminded her. “He is with you, even in this.”
God. If He was protecting her, why hadn’t He done the same for Finn’s victims?
“I’ve got cupcakes to bake.” Aubrey tried to infuse her words with a lightness she didn’t really feel at this moment. “But I’ll check in later.”
Jenna disconnected the call. Aubrey held the phone against her chest and sighed.
Whenever Jenna talked about God, Aubrey felt a heart tug. She’d pushed Him to the side off and on. Hadn’t come to Him until in desperation, when she was stranded on that mountain. And He had answered her prayer. Thank You for keeping me safe yesterday.
Why had she waited so long to renew her relationship with the Lord?
In the kitchen, she made a list of the ingredients she needed for baking. The cupboards were bare of even the basic essentials. She knocked on Liam’s door. “Liam, we need stuff from the store.”
“Hang on a sec.”
She heard a low rumble of voices.
Finally, he came out.
“I need baking supplies for the cupcakes.”
“Right. Special delivery coming up.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call. “Hey, Emma. Can you do me a favor?” Pause. “Aubrey needs some groceries. I’ll have her text you the list. Thanks.”
Today was a beautiful day. Calm. No hint of what had happened just the other day during the festival. Or last night. A lawn mower rumbled in the distance, and a tentative peace settled around her. And her heart.
She finished her list and sent it to Emma.
Aubrey picked up the remote and surfed through the channels. Nothing interested her, so she shut off the television. She flopped against the cushions and sighed.
Liam was still on the phone. “He is?”
Aubrey straightened. “What’s wrong?”
A small V formed between his brows. He shifted the phone away. “Emma’s being followed.”
Her heart stopped for a brief moment, then resumed beating at a frantic pace. She knew it. That’s why she needed to leave.
Liam said, “Ethan sent Emma out, driving around in your car. Now Donovan is following her. Or at least, she thinks it’s him.” He refocused on the call. “Phone Ethan. Now.”
Liam hung up.
Aubrey rose halfway from the couch, then stopped herself, heart giving one uneven thud. She wasn’t bait. She knew that. But fear had a long memory.
“She trained for this,” Liam said, unwavering. “Emma knows exactly what she’s doing. If Donovan does recognize your vehicle, he takes the bait and we control where it leads.”
Aubrey sank back into the chair, the tight coil in her chest loosening. “Okay,” she said softly. “Then we wait.” Please let her be okay.
The blinds were already drawn tight against the windows, lights kept low—standard procedure since the shooting at Renegade Days.
Liam straightened as his phone buzzed. “Roberts.” A brief pause as he listened.
He glanced at Aubrey, his movements steady, unhurried.
“Copy. Still clean. No sign of Donovan near the house.”
Aubrey released a slow breath, her pulse finally leveling out.
Liam ended the call and offered her a small, confident smile. “See?” he said. “Still good.”
Aubrey nodded, trust returning in quiet measure. “Then we’re good.”
Liam tipped his head once. “Yeah. We are.”
She sat with her knees pulled to her chest, the safe house quiet but the silence pressing close.
How much longer will this go on? The question circled, unanswerable.
She closed her eyes and prayed—not the clipped, whispered prayers of habit, but the deep, wordless kind dragged up from the soul.
Protection for Emma, Liam, Ethan. Protection for herself.
Wisdom for all of them. And mercy, fierce and urgent, that Donovan would be found before anyone else paid the price.
The scrape of tires in her memory roared into the silence around her. Liam’s hand found her shoulder, light but deliberate. Aubrey’s eyes flew open. She had no idea how much time had passed.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “Ethan’s on his way with your groceries.”
Her pulse stumbled. “What happened?”
Liam crouched so she didn’t have to crane to meet his eyes.
“Donovan pursued her, and Emma turned onto Route 8. He rode her bumper through the bends, and she forced him to speed up to follow.” He paused a beat, allowing her to absorb the information.
“He thought he was following you. He never realized Emma was driving.”
Aubrey exhaled, the breath shaky but smaller now. “Oh no.”
Liam paused before he continued. “Emma knows how to run a chase. I trust her with that.” His tone was calm assurance. “Ethan was able to catch up and force the issue. To get Donovan stopped.”
The relief lasted only a second. Then fear slammed back into her throat, cold and jagged. “No.” The word scraped out hoarse. Small. Frail. She couldn’t finish the sentence.
Liam knelt in front of her, hands open, voice low, cutting through spiraling guilt before it could take root. “Sorry, but he got away.”
Aubrey swallowed. “That means he’s still out there.”
Liam nodded. “There was a crash at the Route 8 junction,” he said. “Donovan’s SUV blew the red, clipped the turn too fast, and hit your car broadside. It wasn’t stealth. It was rage and recklessness.”
There was no blame in his words. Just facts. And truth.
“Emma’s at the hospital now. Ethan stopped by the store on the way here.”