CHAPTER 40
Only, as I pass a squad car while going fifty miles an hour over the posted speed limit and they fail to give chase, I realize that’s not going to happen.
Garrett’s Mercedes is too distinctive, too easily recognizable.
The police don’t know that he’s not the one behind the wheel.
Even if local law enforcement isn’t on his side, it appears as if they’re not willing to start trouble with him either.
Which means I’m on my own.
A sinking sensation sweeps over me at the thought. Glancing down at the phone screen, I’m hit by another, this one strong enough that I feel myself being pulled down by the undertow. Because that little blinking dot on the screen? It’s stopped moving.
Multiple horns honk as I veer into oncoming traffic to pass a dump truck, pulling back into my lane less than a dozen feet before a head-on collision. But it’s not the close call that has my heart thumping so hard against the walls of my chest.
I turn off onto a side road, still traveling so fast that I’m practically standing as I jerk the wheel. Glimpses of the ocean ahead appear as I catch air over potholes. Rundown buildings pen me in on the sides, fishing traps and scrapped boats littering the patchy dirt yards.
According to the tracker app, I’m getting close to where the car Jake and Garrett were in has stopped.
I’m forced to slow, afraid that I’ll miss a turn, but even as I do, I know it’s in vain.
The tension in my gut tells me where they’ve gone.
And as I spot the white sedan parked ahead, my suspicions are confirmed.
Coming to a stop, I debate my options. As I watch the two figures get farther away down the pier, I know I don’t have long to make my decision. Horror swells inside my chest as I realize I’m out of time—and so is Jake.
Hopping out of the car, I break into a run, moving as fast as my legs will carry me. The two men in front of me have come to a stop. The smaller of the two gestures. The larger moves to the very edge of the crumbling wooden structure.
They’re at least two hundred feet away, too far for them to hear the sound of my shoes slapping against the blacktop. But not too far for me to see the dejected slump of Jake’s shoulders as he turns his back to the other man, facing the water.
I reach the sedan just as Jake laces his hands together, placing them on the top of his head. I stretch my arms across the top of the car. Try desperately to control my breathing as Jake sinks down, one knee making contact with the dock.
In this moment, I couldn’t care less about any oath I’ve taken to uphold the law. Or about following protocol. Screw the book. I don’t announce myself. I don’t say a word. As Jake’s second knee approaches the wood, I curl my finger, a gentle squeeze, not a pull, timed with my exhale.
Jake’s body jerks as a series of gunshots ring out. A flock of seagulls takes to the air with startled cries. The earth seems to shake beneath my feet, my shoes thudding hollowly across the deck as I run, blinded by tears as I sob uncontrollably.
Then I’m in the air, a pair of strong arms wrapped around me so tightly my ribs feel like they might snap, but I don’t care about that, or the way I can’t breathe, or the sudden overwhelming urge I have to pee. All I care about is the mouth pressed against mine.
“Are you okay?” I ask, pulling back, inspecting Jake’s body from head to toe as I squeeze his cheeks between my hands so hard that I might leave bruises.
“I’m fine. What about you?”
I answer him with a series of kisses as I do my best to cover every inch of his face, not stopping until we’re both breathless. Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart beneath my ear. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard such a beautiful sound before.
“It’s over,” I sigh.
“Is it?” he asks, stroking my head.
I know what he’s asking—not just about the events of this day, but everything that led us here. I debate briefly before saying, “I think things should be quiet for at least the next week.”
He chuckles. “Then we should go out to dinner tonight, get some champagne.”
I shake my head no.
“Then what do you want to do to celebrate?”
I lean back until I can see him.
“Have a picnic,” I say, knowing that this time when I fall asleep in his arms in front of the wall of glass, I’ll wake up in them, too.
The grin he gives me makes everything we just went through worth it. His eyes flick toward the main road, where the sound of sirens in the distance grows louder as they approach.
“Maybe we should have a quick pre-game celebration now. Once they get here, I doubt we’ll be going anywhere for a while.”
I try giving him a look of disapproval, but I can’t keep my lips from spreading into a smile. He’s not wrong. And for me, he’ll always be Mr. Right.