Chapter 33
Jada
My stomach growled, but it wasn’t from hunger. It was nausea. I was running out of time.
“Turn left at the next light,” I instructed, buying more time as I led them nowhere in particular.
Johnson, who’d been driving us around all day, followed my directions without question. Kelly sat next to me in the back seat, his hulking presence a constant reminder that I was trapped. I’d tried dropping breadcrumbs all day—leaving my jacket at the gas station restroom, “accidentally” bumping into a woman outside the convenience store—but they never gave me enough space to make a real escape.
The shadows grew longer outside as afternoon faded. Soon, I wouldn’t have daylight as an excuse.
“How much farther?” Johnson asked, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
“Just a few more miles,” I lied, scanning the sidewalks desperately for a crowd, a police officer, anyone who might help.
When I’d demanded food hours ago, I’d hoped they’d take me inside the restaurant, give me an opening. Instead, Johnson kept his gun pressed against my ribs out in the car while Kelly got takeout. We’d eaten, what few bites I’d been able to force down, in the back of a deserted parking lot, not a soul around.
The car slowed at a red light, and through the window, I spotted a family walking toward a park. If I screamed now, threw myself at the door?—
Before I could move, Kelly’s hand clamped around my arm with bruising force.
“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.
The light turned green, and my chance disappeared.
As we turned onto a quieter street, Kelly shifted beside me. I felt more than saw him pull his gun from his holster, keeping it low between us where only I could see it.
“We’ve been driving in circles for hours,” he said, voice dangerously soft. “You’re stalling.”
My pulse thundered in my ears. “I’m not?—”
“I’m done playing games.” The cold barrel pressed against my side. “Take us to the money. Now. Or I’ll pull over and end this right here.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I was out of options. Out of time. I had to take them and hope I could pull this off.
“Fine,” I whispered. “There’s a safe house north of here. That’s where it is.”
I navigated from memory, giving Johnson turn-by-turn directions through Denver’s winding streets. Each landmark triggered not memories of my previous life, but of Hunter—the man who’d saved me, protected me, and fallen for me despite everything.
“Left at the next light, then straight for a few blocks,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
The house was somewhere in this neighborhood. I remembered the brick exterior, the hidden panel for the security code, and most importantly, the weapons cache in the chest in the living room Hunter had shown me.
Hunter . A lump formed in my throat. What must he think of me now? That damned note. I’ve decided this isn’t what I want. Those words couldn’t be further from the truth. Would he believe I’d just abandoned him?
And the kittens—Sir Pounce, Biscuits, and Moose. Had they made it until Hunter got home? Were they okay?
I blinked back tears. I needed every bit of concentration I could muster if I was going to survive this.
“It’s the third building on the right,” I said as we turned onto a tree-lined street of almost identical houses. My stomach twisted with equal parts fear and relief as the safe house came into view. “That one.”
“About damn time,” Kelly muttered.
The house looked exactly the same.
Quiet. Unassuming. Just another forgettable box in a row of forgettable boxes. But this place was special to me. It was the place where I’d cried into Hunter’s shoulder and slept in his bed. The place where we had our first kiss.
The one where he’d guarded me. Held me together when I was sure I was falling apart.
He’d helped me when he had every reason not to.
God, I wished I’d told him thank you. Told him I loved him.
Because I did.
Even if it was too fast. Even if I was a mess. I loved him.
Johnson pulled up to the curb, yanking me back from my thoughts. “So how will we carry the money? What are we looking at here? Duffel bags? Suitcases?”
I had no idea how bulky half a million dollars would be. Would it fill a backpack? A suitcase? I had no clue but didn’t want to give myself away.
“It’s…compact,” I said vaguely. “You’ll have no trouble carrying it.”
Kelly nudged me with his gun. “Better not be jerking us around.”
“Why would I do that?” My laugh sounded brittle. “I just want this over with.”
As Johnson parked, they began sharing their plans for the money, obviously forgetting I was listening—or not caring because I wouldn’t be alive much longer.
“First thing, I’m booking a flight to Bali,” Kelly said, his eyes gleaming. “Got a buddy who knows a place where no extradition means no problems.”
Johnson snorted. “Too obvious. Gotta lie low first, let the heat die down before making any big moves.”
They wouldn’t be talking like this if they planned to let me live. In their minds, I was already dead.
My plan, pathetic as it was, seemed simple enough: get inside, make it to the kitchen drawer or even the chest, grab a knife, and fight like hell. Then run for the side door and hope for a miracle. Even in my own head, it sounded like suicide.
But what choice did I have?
As we approached the house, I rehearsed the steps in my mind. Front entry. Security panel. Living room straight ahead. Kitchen to the left. Wooden chest against the wall.
If I could make it to the chest, I wouldn’t mess with the guns since I wasn’t proficient with them. I’d grab a knife. They were right at the top of the chest, several to choose from. Whatever my hand landed on would be it. If I moved fast enough, maybe I could land a blow. Maybe I could make it to the side door.
It was a garbage plan.
Even in my head, it sounded like a B-movie script scrawled in desperation. But it was all I had.
“Let’s go,” Johnson said, shoving me forward. “And don’t try anything stupid. There’s nowhere to run that we won’t find you.”
I nodded, walking toward the front door with my heart hammering against my ribs, Johnson and Kelly flanking me like prison guards—which was essentially what they were. Sweat trickled down my back despite the cold evening air.
“If this is some kind of trick,” Kelly hissed, his breath hot against my ear, “I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you slowly. Real slowly.”
I rolled my eyes, channeling a confidence I absolutely did not feel. “Chill out. The money’s here, just like I said.”
The cold circle of a gun barrel pressed against my spine, making me flinch. I stared at the seemingly ordinary door, willing my hands not to shake as I reached for the edge of the decorative panel beside it. My fingers found the hidden groove, and I slid it aside, revealing the keypad.
Johnson let out a low whistle. “Well, look at that.”
Even Kelly seemed impressed, which gave me a brief flare of hope. At least they believed I knew the place—which I did, just not in the way they thought.
I punched in the code Hunter had given me: 7-5-2-4-9.
Nothing happened. No click, no green light. My stomach dropped.
I entered it again, more carefully this time, making sure to hit each number precisely.
7-5-2-4-9.
Still nothing.
“What’s the problem?” Johnson demanded, pressing the gun harder against my back.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “This should work.”
Of course the code had been changed. What kind of security system would this be if the same code worked weeks later? But knowing that didn’t help me now.
“Open it,” Kelly growled, “or I swear to God?—”
“It’s not working!” My voice cracked with genuine fear.
Johnson grabbed my hair, yanking my head back. “You lying bitch. There’s no money, is there?”
This was it. My last chance. I had to fight now, while they were still uncertain, before they dragged me back to the car.
I subtly shifted my weight, preparing to drive my elbow into Johnson’s solar plexus, then swing at Kelly’s throat. My odds were terrible—two trained cops against one woman with no combat skills and no memories—but I’d rather die fighting than executed in some remote location.
I drew a deep breath. “Just wait, okay? I’m nervous with you breathing down my neck. Let me try one more time.”
Johnson loosened his grip slightly, and I turned back to the keypad.
Moving deliberately, I entered the code again, each press of my finger feeling like a goodbye. To Hunter. To the life I’d just started to build. To the kittens I’d never see again.
7-5-2-4-9.
The lock clicked.
My jaw dropped as the door swung inward, revealing the darkened interior of the safe house. For a moment, none of us moved, equally stunned.
“See?” I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I told you.”
Kelly shoved me forward, into the darkness. “Move.”
I stepped inside, my mind racing. Why had the code worked this time? I had no idea. I moved cautiously through the entryway, my gaze locked on the wooden chest across the living room. Kelly stayed close behind me, while Johnson veered off, gun drawn, checking the other rooms.
“The money’s in a locked case,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to get the key first.”
“Hurry up,” Kelly growled, following me into the living room.
I crossed to the chest, every step measured, my heartbeat a deafening drum in my ears. Johnson’s footsteps echoed from somewhere down the hallway—checking the bedrooms, the bathroom. This might be my only moment.
“It’s in here,” I murmured, kneeling before the chest and lifting the lid.
My fingers slid across cool metal objects until they closed around a knife handle. I didn’t look at it, didn’t give myself time to think. In one fluid motion, I gripped it tight, whirled around, and slashed upward.
The blade caught Kelly across his forearm as he instinctively raised it to protect himself. Blood bloomed immediately, spreading across his sleeve in a dark stain.
“You fucking bitch!” he roared.
I scrambled backward, knife extended, but he was faster than I’d anticipated. Before I could swing again, he lunged forward, his uninjured hand closing around my wrist with crushing force.
I tried to wrench free, but he twisted violently. The sound of bone cracking preceded the pain by only a millisecond—then agony shot up my arm like lightning. I screamed as the knife clattered to the floor, my fingers no longer able to hold it.
Johnson came running back into the room. “What the hell?—”
“She pulled a knife on me,” Kelly snarled, still gripping my broken wrist. His face contorted with rage as blood dripped between us onto the carpet.
Tears of pain blurred my vision, but I stared directly into his eyes. What did I have to lose now?
“There is no money,” I gasped between waves of agony. “Alan tricked you. He lied to everyone—to me, to you. He used me just like he used you.”
Kelly released my wrist, shoving me backward so hard I stumbled against the chest.
“Wrong answer,” he said, bending to retrieve the knife I’d dropped. “I don’t even care about the money anymore. This is personal now.”
The blade glinted as he raised it. I pressed back against the wall, cradling my broken wrist against my chest.
“You’re going to die screaming,” Kelly promised, his voice eerily calm as he stepped toward me.
I searched desperately for any escape route, any weapon, any miracle—but found nothing. This was it. I closed my eyes, thinking of Hunter, wishing I could tell him just once that I loved him.
I braced for the burning slash of the knife.
Instead, the lights went out.
Total, impenetrable darkness engulfed the room.
“What the—” Kelly’s voice cut through the blackness.
I froze, not daring to breathe, not knowing if this unexpected darkness was salvation or just another form of nightmare. And I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to waste it. My heart slammed against my ribs as I dropped to my knees and began crawling, cradling my wrist against my chest. Every movement shot pain up my arm, but I kept going. I had to get to the side door. Hunter had used it once, said it was the easiest exit if you didn’t want to be seen.
I’d barely made it a few feet before beams of light cut through the black. Johnson and Kelly were using the flashlights on their phones.
I ducked my head and tried to curl into a shadow, but it was no use. The light swept over me like a spotlight, and Kelly’s voice rang out, raw and pissed. “Got you. You’re going to die, bitch.”
I whimpered and kept crawling.
“Thought you were smart?” he snapped. “You’re not. You’re just a stupid girl who’s about to bleed out on this damn floor.”
He reached for me. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced for the slice of the knife. Part of me hoped it would be fast. Not that I thought either of them had the decency for that.
Then, before my eyes, a shadow detached itself from the darkness behind the two men, and suddenly, Johnson was airborne, thrown across the kitchen with shocking force. The crash as he hit the far wall seemed to shake the entire house.
Kelly whirled, his flashlight beam dancing wildly through the darkness. “What the?—”
The light caught a glimpse of Hunter’s face—hard as granite, eyes burning with a barely contained fury I’d never seen before. My heart leaped into my throat.
“Get away from her,” Hunter growled, his voice deadly quiet.
Kelly dropped the flashlight and lunged at Hunter with the knife. The beam spun crazily across the floor, casting grotesque shadows as the men fought. Hunter moved with the lethal precision of a predator, each strike calculated and devastating. He caught Kelly’s knife hand in mid-thrust, twisting until I heard bones crack.
Kelly screamed as the knife clattered to the floor. Hunter’s fist connected with his jaw in a sickening crunch, and Kelly crumpled.
A second beam of light clicked on from the hallway, revealing Lucas restraining a dazed Johnson while Lachlan covered them both with his service weapon.
But Hunter didn’t even glance their way. He was already dropping to his knees beside me, his fierce warrior demeanor instantly softening. His hands cradled my face, his eyes skimming down my body to assess the damage.
“I’m here,” he whispered, voice shaking. “I’ve got you.”
I didn’t even realize I was crying until I saw the look on his face.
“I thought—” I choked. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
He picked me up and, careful of my wrist, set me down on his lap. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve got you now.”
I buried my face in his chest, unable to even get words out. But I didn’t have to. Hunter was here. He would keep me safe.
“You’ll never be alone again,” he said into my hair. “Not on my watch.”