Chapter Twelve #2
“It was a quick call,” she insisted. “I had to tell him not to worry if he heard anything on the grapevine about me. I didn’t want him sending someone to look for me and getting in the middle of whatever is going on.
” Her chin raised again, her eyes flashing with resentment.
“And I told him what you didn’t tell me, that Esteban is alive. ”
Beau checked the screen, then tossed the phone into the bag with the others. He strode to the front windows and flipped open the blinds.
Sierra hurried after him. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” He didn’t even spare her a glance as he studied the tree line fifty yards from the front of the cabin.
“What’s wrong is that by calling Rafael, you compromised our location.
Which might not be a catastrophe except that I have no cell service this morning but had it last night. Sound familiar?”
Her eyes widened. She glanced past him outside. “You don’t think—”
“Yesterday Esteban used a jamming device to block the cell service, preventing me from calling for backup. I’d bet every last penny I have that he’s out there, right now, doing it again. He’s here. His men are here.”
Her eyes widened. “He jammed the service? He told you that?”
He gave her a curt nod. “Did you tell Rafael about the tunnel, the one we used to get to this cabin?”
“What? No, of course not.” Her eyes flashed with anger. “Calling my brother may have been a mistake. But I didn’t do anything to compromise our location. Not purposely or knowingly, anyway.”
He didn’t respond as he peered out the blinds again.
She looked back and forth. “I don’t see anything. I don’t see anyone.”
“I don’t either. I also don’t hear anything. When I started cooking breakfast you mentioned the birds chirping, that they’d woken you up. Do you hear them now?”
Her hand shook as she pressed it to her chest. “No. Nothing. It’s totally silent.”
“Exactly. Something out there is scaring the birds. We’re leaving.” He strode to the table and grabbed the laptop. “Get one of the empty backpacks from the bedroom closet and stuff it with whatever clothing and toiletries you’ll need if we have to camp out a few days. I’ll give you two minutes.”
“C-camp? Two minutes? Don’t you think you’re overreacting? There could be a bear out there scaring the birds. Or, or a—I don’t know—some other animal that—”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Gunshots sounded from the woods, strafing against the windows.
She let out a startled gasp.
Beau yanked her behind the log wall.
“That glass might be called bulletproof,” he said, “but it won’t hold forever, especially if they use something more high-powered. Hurry. Get what you need.”
She tore off through the cabin, almost colliding with the wall as she rounded the corner into the bedroom.
Beau flipped the front window blinds closed and then shut the ones over the kitchen sink.
It was quiet again outside, no more shots.
But that didn’t mean the shooters were giving up.
Whoever was outside the cabin meant business and was probably moving into position to flank them, surround them, if they hadn’t already.
He grabbed his go bag from beside the couch and dropped it on the kitchen table beside his backpack. From the small pantry, he grabbed some of the energy bars and other snacks and shoved them into the pack. After tossing in some bottles of water, he zipped it closed.
Sierra ran into the kitchen area, her backpack strapped on.
A loud bang on the front windows had both of them turning around. It sounded as if someone was hitting the glass with their fist. A few seconds later, a muffled voice called out.
“Sierra, it’s me. Esteban. Open the door. No one’s going to hurt you.”
She glanced up at Beau, her dark eyes full of indecision.
“No, Sierra,” he warned. “Don’t—”
She took off running.
He ran after her, backing up against the door to keep her from opening it. But she didn’t head to the door. Instead, she flipped the blinds open on the window.
And stared into the eyes of her brother.
Esteban pressed the flat of his hand against the glass.
Sierra did the same from the other side with only the thickness of the windowpane separating them.
“I can explain everything,” Esteban shouted to be heard through the window. “Open the door. We need to talk.”
Beau grabbed her shoulders and turned her to look at him.
“We can’t trust him, Sierra. God knows I’d love to prove that your brother doesn’t want to hurt you.
But every time the bullets start flying, who shows up?
Esteban. The one who let you think he was dead.
And now that you know otherwise, he’s again with men who are shooting at us.
Think. Use that beautiful brain of yours.
Are you willing to bet your life that you can trust him? ”
She looked back at the window. Her brother still stood there, peering through the blinds, an imploring look on his face.
“I’m not asking you to condemn him or even hate him,” Beau continued, “or turn your back on him forever. I’m asking you to be careful, to not risk your life again by hoping he can control the men he hasn’t managed to control before.
There are two possibilities here. Either he wants you dead—” he held up a hand to stop her when she began to argue “—or he wants to protect you against whatever’s going on.
Either way, he’s already proven, over and over, that he can’t keep you safe.
I’ve proven the opposite. I can, and will, protect you.
No matter what. But you have to trust me. ”
The window thumped repeatedly as her brother slammed his fist against it, his face scrunched up in anger. He abruptly stopped and yelled, “Sierra, don’t trust the cop.”
Beau wanted to throw open the door and slam his fist against the man’s jaw. Instead, he forced a calmness he was far from feeling into his voice and focused on the woman whose life he knew, without a doubt, was in imminent danger. He just didn’t know why.
“I can get us out of here. Come with me, Sierra. Let’s find the truth together.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, her body trembling as she hesitated. The pounding and shouting started again, startling her. She turned away from the window, away from her brother, and faced Beau again.
“Sierra,” Esteban yelled, his voice muffled through the thick glass. “Sierra, come with me. I’ll protect you, explain everything.”
Beau flipped the blinds closed, his large warm hand gently grasping hers.
She flinched with each pound of her brother’s fists. “Okay. Okay. I’ll go with you, but only so I can prove you wrong about my brother. Hopefully Esteban will forgive me one day for literally turning my back on him.” Her voice choked on the last word.
Unable to resist the urge to offer comfort, he pulled her into his arms, not even sure she’d let him. But she did. More than that, she melted against him, a sob escaping her as she turned her face against his chest.
Beau whispered in broken Spanish against the top of her head as he tried to soothe her.
It was as if the world outside, the danger on their doorstep, faded away as he held her.
All he wanted to do was take away the grief and fear he’d seen in her eyes, take away the hurt she felt over her brother’s betrayal.
And over Beau’s betrayal in not telling her earlier what he’d found out, that her brother was alive.
Knowing he shouldn’t, but helpless not to, he pressed a whisper-soft kiss against her dark silky hair.
When she only held him tighter, he realized they both were in trouble.
The danger, the trauma, everything that had happened since they’d met had woven a tenuous bond between them.
And now he was doing what he’d told her not to do: feeling, letting his emotions guide his actions instead of his head.
He forced himself to gently push her back. Guilt rode him hard as the sound of Esteban’s fists against the window finally caught his attention again. They’d spent precious seconds standing there, comforting each other. Time that could mean the difference between life and death.
“We’re wasting time. We have to go.” His voice came out harder than he’d intended, and the words were all wrong.
She jerked back, turning away, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes.
He shook his head. Nothing was going as planned. He wanted to protect this woman. Instead, he’d hurt her. And he was making poor decisions. He’d have to be far more careful to guard himself against the attraction he’d tried to deny until now. If he didn’t, he’d continue to make foolish decisions.
Like standing here even one more second when she was in danger.
He shrugged his backpack on, then leaned past her and grabbed his go bag, slinging the strap crosswise over his chest.
Pounding sounded on the front door now instead of the window, along with more muffled shouts from her brother.
A single tear coursed down her cheek. “Maybe I should—”
Bam! Bam!
Bullets pinged off the log walls of the cabin.
Her brother’s bellow of rage sounded from outside. The shooting immediately stopped.
Sierra’s face turned so pale it was as if her beautiful dark Spanish skin—no, Cuban skin—had turned white. “He stopped them,” she whispered, defending her brother. “He stopped them from shooting again.”
Beau sighed heavily. “He stopped them, yes, but only after they shot at us. Like before. Until he can consistently control them, we still need to go.”
“Right. Yes. But, where, how—”
“Remember I told you I had a few tricks up my sleeve if we needed to leave in a hurry?”
“I remember.”
He took her hand in his and led her into the small pantry that was barely a walk-in. He pulled a fake shelf support down and to the side. A loud click sounded, and the back wall pulled toward them, leaving a narrow opening.
“What is it?” she said. “One of those safe rooms where people hide from burglars?”
“Even better. It’s essentially a bolt-hole, like they had centuries ago so people could escape unseen when a castle was besieged.”
“Oh, we have something like that at my father’s mansion. It goes out into the woods behind the house. But Daddy said it’s in case there’s a fire.”
Beau chuckled. “I’ll bet that’s what it’s for. Not so he can get away if law enforcement ever manages to close in on him.”
“Be nice.”
He sighed. “Anyway, like I was saying. A ladder is attached at the edge of the tunnel opening. Solar-powered lights will come on as soon as we reach the bottom.”
“No flashlight this time? Like the one from your backpack in the earlier tunnel?”
He smiled at the memory of her swearing at the low light from the flashlight he’d used before. “This little cabin has all the modern upgrades.”
“Except internet.”
He laughed, amazed he could do so in spite of what was going on.
A much louder thumping sounded behind them, repeating over and over. The floor shook, ever so slightly, but enough to dislodge a box of cereal from one of the shelves. Beau managed to catch it before it could fall on Sierra’s head.
Her eyes widened. “What are they doing now?”
“Sounds like they’re trying to break down the door.” He tossed the box on one of the lower shelves. “I wouldn’t think it’s possible without heavy equipment. But it sounds like they’re using a log or something really heavy. We have to go. Now. Hurry, Sierra.”
As soon as she safely reached the bottom of the ladder and the tunnel’s lights came on, Beau closed the outer pantry door.
Then he stood on the ladder and closed the second door, the one that led down into the tunnel.
He secured three iron bars across the door, resting the ends in thick hooks bolted into the framing on the wall.
Then he jumped down the last few steps, grabbed Sierra’s hand and started running.