The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery
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inside.
Damn. Jeff picked up his backpack and rose to his knees. With a last glance at the departing boat, he crawled through the low-lying bushes around the beach and toward the back of the villa. The blonde hadn’t come back out yet. If the maid caught her, she would have a lot of explaining to do. If she did manage to escape, he would follow her and try to find out what she was doing here. Ally or not, he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of what had to be done.
Andie Cochran promised herself that when she was safely out of danger, she was going to find a quiet place out in the bushes somewhere and throw up. She hadn’t known it was possible to be this scared and still function.
Her muscles quivered and twitched. Her hands shook, her knees trembled. Even her breathing was ragged. Her stomach lurched threateningly and her heart raced. Nerves had kept her going for the past three weeks and she was hanging on by sheer force of will.
She glanced at her watch. She had no time left. She’d seen the nanny run down the dock toward Kray and his men. It had given her only a moment to act, but she’d taken it. There might not be another chance. Kray and his goons were gone on an overnight fishing trip. The villa was at the far end of the resort and the hotel housekeeping staff wasn’t due for a half hour. No one else was around. The building was empty except for the nanny and Bobby. She had the perfect opportunity to rescue her son.
Andie moved quickly through the silent house. It had changed some since she’d been here last. Of course, that had been over six years ago. She’d been young and innocent. A fool. As she passed by the elegantly appointed living room, she noticed that the cushions and draperies had been replaced, but the heavy carved mahogany furniture was the same. She and Bobby could live for three years on what Kray had paid for the sofa and love seat alone. But then he’d always wanted the best, the most beautiful, the rare. She must have been such a disappointment to him.
It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. None of it mattered. She turned toward the long hallway and ran quietly toward the back bedrooms. Kray would take the master suite for himself, with his bodyguards on either side and across the hall. That left only the last three bedrooms empty for her son.
Most of the doors stood open and she glanced in them as she moved past. Unmade beds, piles of luggage, luxurious furnishings, but no people. When she approached the end of the hallway and the last three rooms, she heard a voice.
“I’m not afraid, I won’t be afraid.”
The soft singsong crooning stopped her in her tracks. Instinctively Andie clutched her hands to her midsection as if she could hold in the pain. Oh, God, what had Kray done to her child?
She flew down the last few feet of corridor toward the sound. When he was frightened, Bobby would huddle in the middle of his bed and rock back and forth, singing the refrain over and over again. It happened during rare Los Angeles thunderstorms, or when he’d snuck downstairs while she was studying and watched a scary movie. She would hear the soft singing, then curl up next to him on the bed, holding him close until he forgot to be afraid.
No one knew that, she thought, fighting the tears. No one knew anything about him. He’d spent the past three weeks alone in a terrifying world. Living with strangers, missing her, not knowing how desperate she’d been to be with him.
She opened the last door on the right and stepped into the darkened room. Drapes had been pulled closed over the wide window. There was a bed in the center of the room, along with stacks of toys, many of them still in their boxes. An untouched breakfast tray sat on a low table.
Her son lay huddled in the center of the bedspread, his back to her.
“Bobby,” she said softly.
The boy turned toward her. His hazel eyes widened; then he sat up slowly as if not able to believe what he was seeing. “Mommy?”
She moved toward him, holding out her arms. He stood up and launched himself at her. She caught him in midair. He wrapped his sturdy legs around her waist and his arms around her neck. Familiar little-boy smells assaulted her, as his warm, small body pressed against her.
“Bobby,” she murmured, clutching him closer. His hair was longer, but still felt the same. Her palm moved up and down against his bony spine, feeling the ridges and thin muscles that would one day make him as big and broad as his father.
He cried, clinging to her as if he would never let go. His relief was as tangible as his thin arms, as real as his words.
“I missed you,” he said between sobs that nearly ripped her in two. “I called for you, but you didn’t come. Didn’t you hear me?”
“No,” she said, pressing her cheek against his. She felt the moisture there, then realized their tears mingled. “I wanted to be here, sweetie, but I couldn’t find you right away. I’m here now.”
Bobby leaned back and stared at her. He sniffed. “I don’t wanna stay, Mommy. I hate Daddy.” He said it defiantly, as if expecting her to scold him. At five, life was simple. Bobby loved his mother, his friends and his teacher. He liked school and tolerated bath time. He hadn’t yet learned to hate. Until Kray had torn him away from the only world he’d ever known. But his anger and fear obviously troubled him. Boys weren’t supposed to hate their fathers.
Most fathers weren’t Kray.
“It’s okay,” she promised, then prayed she wasn’t lying. “I’m going to get you—”
The front door slammed closed. Andie’s heart thumped loudly against her chest as she realized she’d wasted precious time. The nanny had returned. What now?
She glanced at the open bedroom door. The nanny’s footsteps sounded loud on the tiled floor. She and Bobby couldn’t go back that way. She’d hoped her luck would hold and they could walk out the way she’d come in. But that wasn’t going to happen. Still, she would find another way. She had to; Bobby was depending on her.
She set him down. He started to protest, but she touched her fingers to his mouth. “Hush,” she whispered. “We have to escape. You must be very quiet. Do you understand? Not a word.”
He nodded, wide-eyed.
She moved silently to the door and peered out. The nanny was in the great room by the front door. Andie could see the hem of her dress as she bent over a sofa. They still had a few seconds.
Andie closed the door quietly and turned the lock in the knob. Then she glanced around to find another way to escape. There were two doors. She tried them both. One led to a closet, the other to a bathroom. That meant they were trapped. Her gaze lingered on the pulled drapes. Unless they went out the window.
She looked down at her son. He was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, both new. Kray had taken nothing when he’d stolen her child from her. His athletic shoes were sturdy. He would be fine.
She took his hand tightly in hers, and led the way to the window. “Come on, Bobby. We’ve got to go right now.”
He stared at her while she opened the drapes, then fumbled with the catch. The glass slid open. She pushed out the screen.
“Are we ‘scaping?”
“Yes, we’re escaping.” She released his hand so she could lower the screen to the ground. A blooming azalea bush provided a small amount of cover. From the front of the villa she could hear the tap-tap of the nanny’s heels. The sound kept advancing. Andie didn’t know how much time they had left. They just needed a few seconds. Please, God, grant them that.
The window was about chest height on her, which meant she needed a step up. She glanced around the room, then saw the child-size chair by the low table. She grabbed it, along with the roll from the untouched breakfast tray. She stuffed the bread in her jeans pocket and placed the chair below the window.
Andie looked outside. When she didn’t see anyone, she reached for Bobby, picking him up under his arms. He was heavier than he looked, but she was used to his growing weight. She heaved him onto the windowsill,