Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Tink…tink…tink.
Emma’s eyelids flew open.
What was that?
Tink…tink…tink.
Her body tensed beneath the quilt. Was she just hearing things? Was her imagination running wild? Surely, if there was a strange noise, Cap would have heard it as well, right? He would come running if he thought she was in danger.
The sound came again, soft and deliberate. Not wind. Not rain.
Her gaze slid to the window. Jonathan stood there holding a gun.
Her heart stuttered. Shock ripped through her so fast she couldn’t breathe. Her mind rejected what her eyes insisted on seeing. She squeezed them shut and then opened them to find her presumed dead ex staring at her through the window. Alive.
Her throat burned as she fought for air. Why hadn’t she shut the blinds?
Tink…tink…tink.
The sound came from the gun barrel tapping the glass.
“Come here now,” he mouthed to her.
Her pulse roared in her ears. She willed herself to scream. Cap would hear it and come running. Nothing came out.
After what she’d witnessed today, without a doubt, he’d shoot her if she didn’t follow his instructions.
She forced herself to move, lowered the covers, and eased out of bed on her wobbly legs. Then she eased the window open a crack.
“How? We thought…” was all she said before he interrupted her.
“You would have liked me to have drowned, but no luck,” he said in a tone colder than she’d ever heard.
“I need the spare keys to my truck. You still have them. And, I need a phone,” he said as he waved the gun around for her to see.
His facial muscles were tense, and bruising had set in from the beating he had taken on the boat.
She wanted to yell for Cap, but feared he’d shoot her and Cap when he ran to her.
“Emma, do you have my keys here?” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Yes, they’re in my purse.”
“I need them and your phone. Get dressed and get out here,” he said in not much more than a whisper.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” he said as his hand shot through the screen.
He yanked the window higher and clamped his hand around her wrist.
She bit back a cry.
“Every second you stall puts her closer to death.”
Oh God.
She swallowed hard. “Carly.”
“Yes. You don’t want to be responsible for her death, do you?”
“What?”
“I’ll explain later. Get dressed, get my keys and your phone, now. The longer we take, the more likely they’ll kill her.”
Tears flooded her eyes.
“Emma.”
“Okay.”
“And don’t signal your boyfriend, or else.”
With as conflicted as she was, she knew she needed to quietly go with Jonathan; Carly’s life depended on her.
Emma grabbed her belongings and climbed out the window, falling into Jonathan’s arms. An embrace that once felt good now felt repulsive.
Rain beat down on her. The wind slapped at her. The storm had not let up one bit, like it was supposed to.
With his hand wound tightly around her upper arm, Jonathan pulled her along down the driveway.
It got darker the further away they got from Cap’s house.
Once on the road, it was about as black as it could be.
He didn’t stop until they reached a small car parked half in the ditch and half on the road.
“Whose car is this?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He shoved her into the passenger seat, and then he climbed into the driver’s seat.
The stench of cigars assaulted her nostrils.
Jonathan turned the key. The engine roared loudly. She glanced through the woods toward Cap’s house, hoping he would hear the noise and wonder what was going on. A faint glow from Cap’s porch light flickered through the rain.
Please hear us.
She glanced at the dashboard. It was old school.
No bright display of a touchscreen. She looked down at the seat and ran her fingertips over the stitching in the vinyl until she reached a tear where she felt the foam filling.
God, the smell was horrible. Despite the rain, she needed to open the window to air out the car.
Running her hand along the door searching for the lever to open the window, she discovered the vehicle’s age when her hand found a crank.
With a couple of turns, the crank broke off in her hand.
“What are you doing?” Jonathan asked.
“I needed some air.”
“Could you just sit there without touching anything and keep quiet? We’ll be out of this piece of shit shortly.”
She studied Jonathan. How had it come to this?
How had she not had a clue what he was up to?
Her parents loved him. Even her dad, of all people, one of the smartest and most savvy people she knew, didn’t know this side of Jonathan.
At least she didn’t think so. He was all about her marrying Jonathan.
If he’d known this about him, he certainly would have said something.
She folded her hands together tightly and rested them in her lap.
Questions screamed in her head. How was Jonathan still alive?
He wasn’t a strong swimmer, and with how fast the large rolling waves came with the storm, how had he managed to get to shore, and with nobody noticing?
The Coast Guard, Sturgeon Bay Police, the dive team, and she and her friends.
It seemed impossible. Most importantly, what was it she and Jonathan were about to do to save Carly?
One of Jonathan’s hands gripped the steering wheel, and the other held the weapon. She’d hoped he’d set it down. The way he waved it around sometimes, she worried he’d pull the trigger accidentally.
Minutes later, they were back in town, nearing the city park with a boat ramp where Jonathan’s truck was parked.
He drove past the police station. The building was completely dark.
As they crossed the bridge, she could see his truck illuminated by the parking lot lights.
She wondered if there were any security cameras in the park.
Surely, there must be. When Cap discovered she was missing, and Jonathan’s truck was gone from the parking lot, he’d surely look at the footage to see who took the truck.
Jonathan must have thought of this as well.
Yet, he parked next to his truck, which was in the farthest stall from the launch ramps.
There had to be at least fifteen trucks and trailers already parked in the lot.
That didn’t fully surprise her because the early morning charters would already be on their way to their hot spots, if not already trolling.
“I need the keys,” he said as he reached toward her.
She pulled them from her purse and dropped the fob into his hand.
Jonathan fumbled for the door handle and slipped out of the car. Though he’d killed the engine, he left the keys in the ignition. It crossed her mind to quickly slide over and peel out of the parking lot, but with Carly’s life in her hands, she thought better of it.
Jonathan opened her car door, gripped her arm, and pulled her out. Then, he walked her to the driver’s side of the vehicle.
“You’re driving,” he said, but didn’t hand her the fob.
“First, I need to make a call, then I need to get something out of the back. Give me your phone.”
“Where’s yours?” she asked.
“Somewhere in Lake Michigan. When you let those assholes toss me overboard, I lost my phone and keys.”
Emma lifted her chin. “I hardly think it is my fault you had a run-in with your drug dealers and they tossed you into the lake. And I think you owe me an explanation.”
“I don’t owe you shit. Phone. Now!”
She pulled her phone from her purse, which sat on the floor, and handed it to him.
Her gaze landed on the gun. Where did that come from?
Certainly, he didn’t have it while on the boat, or he would have pulled it out at some point.
And if he had, wouldn’t he have lost that, too, when he was thrown overboard?
Jonathan stepped to the back of his truck and lifted the tonneau cover.
Something slid in the truck’s bed. Then, he shut the cover.
In the rearview mirror, she saw him tap the screen of her phone and then press it to his ear.
The conversation was short. He hustled over to the passenger side of the vehicle, opened the door, tossed a black bag onto the seat between them, and then belted himself in.
“You found the bag?” she asked.
“No, thanks to you. This is a different one.”
How many drug deals did he have going down? Who was this person?
“Start the car. We gotta go.”
She felt frozen, studying the man—the drug dealer she’d thought she once loved.
“Emma! Carly’s life depends on you. My life depends on you, and I shouldn’t have to explain this to you, but your life depends on you right now!”
Her quick intake of breath caused her to choke. She coughed and coughed until her eyes watered so much that she could hardly see.
“Start the damn truck, Emma!”
She sniffled and swiped her arm over her wet eyes and cheeks. Then, she put her foot on the brake and pressed the engine start button.
“Where to?” she asked
“To the highway. Take a left out of the parking lot. At the highway, take another left.”
She did as he instructed.
“Slow down!”
“Huh?”
“You’re going forty in a twenty-five zone.”
Her gaze hit the dashboard, and she backed off the accelerator. She was so distracted, she hadn’t realized how fast she had traveled.
“You need to focus. You’ve got a bag of drugs sitting next to you. The last thing you need is to give the police a reason to pull you over. It wouldn’t look good for you. Would it?”
Fear shot through her. He’d pin this on her if they got caught. Asshole.
“Take a right on County U. It’s coming up.”
She saw the sign and flipped on her blinker.
Jonathan laid the gun on his lap and then held her phone with one hand and tapped the screen with his pointer finger on his other hand. Her gaze always seemed to find its way back to that gun.
“We’re going to LaSalle Park. It’s about a twenty-minute drive.”
“What are we going to do there?” she asked.
“Exchange this bag of drugs for Carly and our lives,” he replied in a grim tone.