Chapter 14
Allie followed Knox out the front of the warehouse and across the parking lot. They heard the loud truck engine rounding the warehouse, but by the time it reached the road, Knox and Allie were across the street and walking up the side of Pelican Rentals.
Knox held his phone to his ear, talking to Jason. "All three bombs are in the truck."
They paused as the truck rolled by. Knox gave Jason a description of the truck and the license plate number.
"But it's more important to be tracking the bombs.
I don't think they found the trackers . .
. Hang on . . ." He walked to the end of the sidewalk and waited for the truck to turn.
"He turned left. Not taking the ferry. He's headed your direction . . . Will do." He ended the call.
"Is Rowan tracking the bombs?"
"Yeah. And Jason needs to focus on that situation. We need to get ourselves back to The Mandeville. Unless Jason calls and says we need to head somewhere else. They didn't take the ferry, so they're heading for someplace on the island."
She pointed to Pelican Rentals. "Maybe Henrik can give us a ride."
"You read my mind."
When they rushed into Pelican Rentals explaining they didn't have a car and needed to get to The Mandeville as soon as possible, Henrik nodded like he knew this day would come.
He was very happy to offer them a ride in his bright blue Volkswagen Beetle.
He didn't even look surprised when Knox insisted that he and Allie sit in the back so they wouldn't be spotted easily.
Henrik simply nodded like that made perfect sense.
Even though Knox didn't tell Henrik who they were hiding from.
Less than two minutes later, they pulled up to a stoplight, four cars behind the guards and their deadly cargo.
Allie noticed the tension in Knox's muscles as his focus flitted back and forth between the truck in front of them and his phone.
Jason was probably texting, and Henrik didn't need to know more than he already did.
They hadn't said anything to Henrik about bombs.
They just said they needed a ride back to The Mandeville and that it was urgent that they get there as quickly as possible.
For a second, Allie worried Henrik's pulsating enthusiasm for helping the agents would cause him to drive onto the sidewalk and through fruit stands like he was in an action movie. But to his credit, he kept the Smurf-blue Beetle on the road.
The truck was only three cars ahead of them now.
Creeping in the slow traffic was nerve-racking.
Every car around them was sauntering along on relaxed island-time—driving back from the beach or the ice cream shop.
No one else was chasing a truck full of bombs.
Their reality was a world away from hers.
She watched Knox, knowing the slow traffic was driving him out of his mind.
She'd know that even if she didn't notice him working his jaw or the tension in his shoulders.
Patience wasn't his forte. But that never bothered her about him.
He was only impatient when things needed to get done—like stopping dangerous bad guys.
She needed to focus on the situation in front of them, but she couldn't sit in the back of that cramped car, thigh to thigh with Knox, without thinking about that kiss.
Oh my. She hadn't had a chance to process that yet. And now probably wasn't a good time. But . . . her brain couldn't ignore everything she'd sensed in those precious seconds. That moment between them held so much more than physical attraction.
Of course she was attracted to the strong, fit, broad-shouldered agent with an incredible smile.
Any woman would be. But she'd worked with half a dozen men at WhiteRock who were objectively attractive, and no one made her feel as safe as Knox did.
No one made her feel as seen as Knox did.
Her soul wasn't drawn to anyone but Knox.
She felt like a fog was clearing away from some truths that had been so close all along, yet invisible to her.
She had believed a lie for three months—that Knox wasn't who she thought he was, that he wasn't who she'd hoped he was. The lie convinced her that she couldn't be forgiven . . . by Knox, or WhiteRock, or God.
She didn't know why that lie was so easy to believe. But she knew the truth now. She hadn't accepted God's forgiveness or Knox's forgiveness for three months because she hadn't forgiven herself. The guilt niggling at her earlier made sense now.
Wow. Where had all that come from? Why was it so clear all of a sudden?
If she wanted to make Knox smile, she might tell him he kissed some sense into her. Yeah, he'd love that.
But she'd save that comment for later. When they weren't chasing nefarious men with bombs.
"What?" Knox asked her.
"Huh?"
"Why are you smiling?" He looked confused. His mind hadn't derailed from their mission the way hers had.
"Oh, nothing. Any word from Jason?"
"A few texts." He handed her his phone instead of reading them in front of Henrik.
Jason's texts were not verbose. She'd need some more details soon. But clearly, Kendall had talked to Drakos again. His boss didn't want to negotiate. He threatened to use the bombs if Drakos didn't sell to Byron in the next three hours.
She looked at Knox and held his gaze long enough to see the tight rein he held on his frustration, anger, and fear.
She'd witnessed this phenomenon before. Knox could force a calculated calm over his entire body in the most stressful situations.
She sensed his emotions humming in the background, but his pulse and breath rate reflected an intentional composure.
She handed the phone back with a quick nod.
Knox snapped his head to the truck. It turned right.
"Should we follow?" Allie asked.
"Hang on." He called Jason—no time to worry about whether Henrik was listening.
"Hey," he said, "they're turning. Do we follow? . . . You're sure? . . . OK, see you in two minutes."
He ended the call and leaned forward. "Henrik, are we about two minutes out?"
"Yeah, that sounds right. This is the last intersection before The Mandeville."
"OK, just drop us at the main entrance."
"No problem."
Moments later, Henrik parked in front of The Mandeville. Knox and Allie jumped out, but Knox paused at the driver's side door. "Thanks, Henrik. Really, we appreciate it. You've been a big help today."
"Sure. Glad to be of service. What else can I do? I like to help."
"I know. And we appreciate it, but we'll take it from here. Thanks again for the ride. We'll call you if we need something."
"OK. Good luck." He gave a two-finger salute. But as the Smurf-blue Beetle rolled out of the parking lot, it occurred to Allie that Henrik had no idea what he was wishing them 'good luck' for.
At least he was driving away from the danger. A small part of her wanted to warn the eager shopkeeper, but she knew they couldn't afford to trigger a panicked mass-exit off the island. She'd witnessed a hysterical mob before. It wasn't pretty. Dozens of injuries. Two fatalities.
Oh, dear God, please protect every life on this island . . . from the bombs we know about . . . and from dangers we don't.