Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The spring sun peeked through the window blinds, distracting Katrina from falling back to sleep.
Who was she kidding? She hadn’t slept for nearly a week since she’d had dinner with Hunter.
Her heart sank. Hunter. If only she hadn’t run into him.
If she’d just put two and two together before accepting the interview at his company, she could have turned it down and avoided him.
But no, and now she realized the man she longed for was within reach.
Recalling his hold and kisses warmed her, yet saddened her. Dammit .
She flung back the covers, rolled out of bed and moseyed into the kitchen to start coffee.
As part of her Sunday routine, she called up the online version of the Minnesota Press.
Though she hadn’t lived in Minnesota for almost ten years, she still liked to keep up on the news there, her small hometown news in particular.
She missed the Northwoods. Not always the extreme winter cold, but missed it nonetheless.
The Minnesota Press had changed through the years, focusing less on the smaller communities and more on the Twin Cities. She still got a few nuggets of information about her hometown and the people she’d left behind.
The coffee pot buzzed, and she rose from her chair to nab a cup of hot, strong black brew.
Back at her laptop on the kitchen table, she scrolled, stopping on the crime report page.
Twelve hundred and twenty-two assault offenses so far this year.
Eighty-three sex offenses and two homicides.
Wow, not much had changed in the past decade from when she first thought to check the numbers after she’d been assaulted.
She clicked on the headlines tab. The shock of the first headline nearly knocked her off her chair.
Her breaths came quickly. Her heart raced.
Extremities went numb. The computer screen faded to black.
No, that was her vision. She placed her palms on the tabletop and squeezed her eyes shut, and rested her cheek on the edge of the table. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.
After choking down the lump in her throat, she sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, then she lifted her head and opened her eyes.
Blinking rapidly, she cleared her vision.
Hennepin County Assistant District Attorney Disappears .
The professional photo was of the assistant district attorney who prosecuted Sebastián’s case.
Katrina skimmed the article. The ADA didn’t show up to work on Thursday.
Neither family nor friends knew of her whereabouts.
Katrina sprang from her chair and double-checked her door to make sure it was locked. She shouldn’t have to, because she had probably checked it three times before she’d gone to bed. She returned to her laptop to read the brief article again.
She supposed the list of suspects could be a long one, as the ADA charged a lot of criminals and prosecuted some as well.
At least Sebastián shouldn’t be on that list since he was still in prison, yet the anxiety swirling in the pit of her stomach told her it was a possibility.
After reading the article a third time, she moved on to another story.
Then another. Typical stuff. She moved on to the state news.
Prison Overcrowding Causes Early Releases.
What? She couldn’t have read that title correctly, so she reread it.
Overcrowding. What in the hell? Who cared if they were overcrowded?
There was a reason they were sentenced to a specific period, and they should have to serve that time.
She continued to read. No! Her hand flew over her mouth. It couldn’t be. No, no, no.
She flew out of her chair again and checked the lock on her door, then she grabbed her cell phone and paced her tiny kitchen as if she were a caged animal.
“Hello,” her brother, Kane, aka Kent Holmes, said.
“He’s out. Sebastián is out of prison, and the ADA is missing!”
“What?”
“I just read it in the Minnesota Press. Because of overcrowding, there was an early release of prisoners. Anyone set for release in the next two years, who served over five years, was released. Sebastián was set for release later this year. He’s out!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
“Okay. Okay. We prepared for this. Right? You’re safe. You’ll be fine. We have new identities and have made no contact with anyone from our past.”
Silence.
“Katrina?”
Silence.
“Katrina?” he said louder, snapping her out of her reverie about Hunter.
“I need to tell you something. I ran into Hunter.”
“Hunter?”
Her brother said that as if the name didn’t click with him.
She inhaled slowly and let it out as slowly as she took it in.
“The guide from Yooper Adventures.”
Now it was her brother’s turn for silence.
“It was a total accident, but he recognized me and he knows we’re in hiding, but not formal hiding.”
“Does he know that the Garcias are a cartel?”
“Yes.”
“Shit!”
“I know. It was purely an accident. I was pitching a new client, and he walked in. Turns out he owns the company.”
“You didn’t know that going in?” her brother asked accusingly.
“No. The name on the company material was different. It said his name was Orion, not Hunter.”
“Jeez, you couldn’t put that together?”
That comment made her feel stupid. Obviously, Kent connected the names immediately.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m just a bit on edge,” Kent said before she could reply.
“What are we going to do?” she asked in desperation.
“Nothing. We have new identities. We’ll be fine. I can try to reach Logan to let him know, but he’s hard to reach when deployed.”
“What if Sebastián tries to find us through people we once knew...like Hunter?”
“We’ve done a good job of disappearing. Living up to our new identities. We’ll be fine,” her brother assured. “As for Hunter, he was just a guide. Sebastián would have no reason to think he could find you through him.”
That was true, yet she was still worried.
“Did you get the job?”
“I got the offer, but turned it down. If my boss finds out, I’ll probably get fired. It was a big account. Hopefully, he’ll think we just didn’t get the offer.”
“That’s probably good you turned it down.”
So, her brother worried about the connection to Hunter, too.
“What now?” she asked.
“We go on as normal. You still carrying?” he asked.
“Yes.”
She’d gotten her concealed carry permit immediately after Sebastián had tried to kill her. He’d been out on bail, and she felt she needed to protect herself, just in case he came after her again.
“I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you later. You’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine,” her brother assured.
“I know. Bye.”
Goosebumps lined her arms. Though she’d told him she’d be fine, she wasn’t sure.
Hunter stared at the cell phone in his hand, debating calling Katrina like he’d done at least one hundred times since last Tuesday.
Katrina. Part of him couldn’t get used to the new name.
Not that he didn’t like the name, but it was Hannah whom he’d first met and fallen in love with.
To have her, though, he’d gladly comply.
His heart begged him to call her, but his brain rejected the idea. It was for her own safety. He understood her concern, but didn’t like it at all. His pulse pounded as he selected her from the contact list on his cell phone, but his shaky thumb prevented him from pressing the call button.
He tossed the phone onto the kitchen countertop and put his back to it, as if not seeing the phone would help him fight the urge to call her. The illogical part of his brain took over, and he snatched the phone off the counter and hit the call button.
After the third ring, he debated hanging up. She wasn’t going to answer. Ever. He knew it. She was scared, and withdrawal was the easiest and safest for everyone involved.
“Hello.”
Stunned by the fact she answered, he was speechless.
“Hunter?”
“Yes. Han...Katrina,” he stuttered.
At the rate he couldn’t seem to remember to call her by her new name, it would take some work to convince her he could live with her new identity. He had to pull it together before he lost her again.
“Katrina, I know we have some things to deal with, but I need to see you again. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
There, he laid it on the line. He held his breath, waiting—preparing for a rejection.
“It’s gotten worse, which is why I answered your call.”
She sounded defeated.
He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and let out his breath. Then, he opened his eyes and lifted his head into the normal position.
“What happened?”
“I just found out that Sebastián received an early release.”
“What?” Hunter squeaked out.
“I guess the Minnesota prisons are overcrowded and the state, in its infinite wisdom, released anyone with less than two years left on their sentence and who’ve already served five years. Sebastián was due for release in a few months.”
“Are you sure he’s out? And if so, when was he released?”
“I haven’t verified it with anyone yet. I just saw the news article this morning. It’s Sunday. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to call...I don’t know who to call.”
She sniffled.
Dammit. She was crying, and he wasn’t there to comfort her.
“Let me come to you. We’ll figure this out. What’s your address?”
Her hesitation worried him. She was going to shut him down.
“There’s more,” she replied, ignoring his request for her address.
“What is it?” he dreaded asking.
She sniffled again.
His hand tightened around the phone.
“The assistant district attorney who prosecuted his case has gone missing.”
Of all the things she could have said, he hadn’t expected to hear that.
“You think he has something to do with that?”
“Well, the timing works. All these prisoners are being released, and now she goes missing.”
“That doesn’t mean it was Sebastián. It could be any of them, or even someone else,” he tried to assure her.
A burning sensation and sharp pain shot through his right shoulder, and he pressed his left hand to it.
It wasn’t warm to the touch, yet his skin burned.
What in the hell? Why did it hurt suddenly?
Then he realized the exact spot of the pain.
It was where the bullet had ripped through his flesh atop Lover’s Leap Falls.
Strange. The phantom pain in that spot had disappeared years ago, but now, at the mention of Sebastián’s name and the disappearance of the assistant district attorney had caused it to return.
“I know it could be, but still, it’s a possibility. We’re talking about the cartel here.”
“That’s just it. The cartel. Certainly, if they wanted to do something to the assistant district attorney, they would have done it long ago.”
“True. I thought that, too. I guess I just want everyone involved to be aware of the possible danger.”
So, she thought of him as Involved.
Her quick breaths and sniffles broke his heart.
“Please let me come to you.”
“I can’t.”
“Then come here.”
“I can’t. It’s for your own safety.”
“So, I don’t even get a say?” That came out edgier than he’d hoped.
“No. Please take care of yourself.”
She disconnected the call before he could reply.
His chest squeezed as if belted. That was it? Done? No. That was bullshit. He’d finally reconnected with her, and he would not let her go again.
God, his shoulder hurt almost as much as his rejected heart.
He went into the bathroom and yanked his T-shirt over his head, and studied the round, purplish, jagged-edged scar on his right shoulder.
Surgery, followed by months of physical therapy, and he was able to regain ninety percent mobility.
Every now and then, he was reminded it wasn’t one hundred percent.
It was usually when he did strenuous sporting activities.
Right now, his shoulder burned as if the flesh had just been torn open.
Since that wasn’t the case, he pulled his shirt back on and ignored the phantom pain.
Weren’t the scars he bore from that horrible day atop Lover’s Leap a rite of passage to Katrina?
Shouldn’t she give him some decision-making authority?
For chrissake, he’d been shot, had two nasty scars on his head that required his hair to be shaved off in order to stitch them up, and he had had more bumps and bruises than he could count on his arms, legs, and torso.
And now, he didn’t get any decision-making authority? This was bullshit.
He dialed her number again. No answer. Anger had him dialing again. Nothing.
Rethinking his actions, he blew out a sigh and tossed the phone back onto the counter, supposing the last thing she needed was another man in her life trying to control her. That didn’t work out so well the last time for her. If he wanted a chance at staying in her life, he needed a better plan.
He sank into his oversized leather recliner and thought. What would be a better plan?
Hell, he didn’t know. He just knew he needed one. Maybe his sister Cici could help, but calling her would involve another person in this mess and maybe put her in danger. For now, he’d have to come up with a plan on his own.