The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery
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she asked quietly.
“A short version of the truth.”
She nodded. “I met Kray six and a half years ago while I was in Europe. I was young and stupid and…I suppose that’s no excuse, is it?”
Bobby crept out from behind her and stared up at him. Jeff forced himself to smile at the boy. The woman rested her hand on the child’s head.
“It was a whirlwind courtship. We were married for a short time. When I realized he wasn’t—” She paused, then grimaced. “When I found out what he was, I left.”
“I find it hard to believe he let you go.”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t nearly ornamental enough and was far too outspoken. I came back to the States and—Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m not fit to clean your boots. You have a real attitude problem.”
Jeff stared at her. She was right. He did. He hated everyone involved with Kray. “An occupational hazard.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
She crouched down next to her son. “I know you are, Bobby. You haven’t had any breakfast yet, have you?”
He shook his head.
She placed one knee on the ground and pulled a mangled roll out of her jeans pocket. “Here. Have this. We’ll get some more food later.”
“Get to the point,” Jeff said.
The woman looked up at him. Wide blue eyes, the color of the Caribbean sky, held his gaze. Fear flickered there. Concern, anger, but no subterfuge. His gut told him she wasn’t lying. At least not yet.
“I came home, then my doctor confirmed my pregnancy. Kray divorced me. He never said anything about the baby. I wasn’t even sure he knew. I got on with my life. Three weeks ago, he showed up.” She turned away, but not before he saw the tears. “It was Bobby’s fifth birthday. Kray said he was old enough to learn about the business and took him.”
“Just like that?”
She nodded. “He said if I tried to get him back…” She glanced at Bobby. “I got the message.”
So did Jeff. Kray threatened to kill her if she tried to get her son back. “Apparently you don’t know how to listen.”
She rose to her feet. “What was I supposed to do? Just let him keep my son?”
“You could have done a hell of a lot better than sneaking in to save him yourself.”
She stiffened and cleared her throat. “Do you think I’m crazy? I didn’t come out here alone.”
Her first lie. “Listen, lady, I don’t—”
“My name isn’t ‘lady.’ It’s Andrea Cochran. Andie. I’ll thank you to call me that.”
“Fine, Andie. The way I figure it, the maid back at the villa already knows the kid is not in his room. She’s about finished searching the house and grounds, and is going to call Kray on his boat. We can stand here talking about who and what you are, or we can move out of here and stay alive.”
She glared at him. “May I remind you, Rambo, you’re the one who asked about my past.”
“And you told me. Let’s go.” He bent down and picked up Bobby. “Wanna bet you and me together can go faster than your mom alone?” He ended his sentence with a quick wink, forestalling the child’s fear.
Bobby eyed him warily, then nodded slowly. “Mommy can’t go real fast.”
“I’m not surprised. Let’s see if she can keep up.”
Andie grabbed his arm. “Give him back to me.”
Jeff started walking. “He’s too heavy and you’re already exhausted. How far is your car?”
“I’m not sure.” She fell into step behind him. “I left it off the side of the road.”
“Camouflaged?”
“I didn’t hack down a tree and bite off the branches with my bare teeth to cover it, if that’s what you’re asking. I did pull into a turnout and park behind some brush.”
“That’s something.”
“Your faith in my ability is overwhelming.”
“How are you planning on getting off the island?”
She didn’t answer.
He ducked around hanging vines, then stepped over a log, not letting either slow him down. Andie didn’t have the advantage of his training or endurance. He could hear her labored breathing and she struggled to keep up. Bobby held on tightly, his skinny legs wrapped around his waist, one hand holding on to Jeff’s backpack. The kid wasn’t too heavy, but he was awkward. Jeff shifted so Bobby’s weight rested on his hip and kept moving.
After a few minutes, he eyed the sun overhead, then turned slightly east. They would come out on the road about a half mile from the villa. It was unlikely she would have been willing to hike much farther on her own. He hoped she remembered where she’d parked her Jeep.
The temperature rose steadily, and with it the humidity. The call of birds and the drone of insects provided background noise for his tangled thoughts. None of this felt real. Not the boy, or the woman. Not the circumstances in which he found himself. Somewhere in the past few minutes he’d made the decision to get her off the island, mostly because the alternative was being identified before he’d finished what he’d come for. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be saddled with an inexperienced, volatile party girl and her bratty kid.
He glanced down at Bobby and smiled. Okay, so the kid wasn’t so bad. Bobby smiled back shyly and offered the last bit of his roll. “Want some?”
“No, thanks.”
When they neared the road, he paused, waiting for her to catch up. Perspiration coated her face and her cheeks were flushed bright red. More strands of hair had escaped from her braid.
He reached behind him and ripped open the Velcro strap that held his canteen in place. He opened the top and handed it to her.
“Thanks,” she said, between pants. She took a small mouthful of water and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing. “If you were trying to prove a point, you did. Aerobics doesn’t equip you for jungle combat. I see that now. I’ll be sure to have a word with my instructor when I get back.”
In spite of himself, he admired her spunk. “You’re some mouthy woman, you know that?”
“Yeah.” She took another drink, then handed him the canteen. “I know.”
After Bobby had drunk his fill, Jeff took a couple of sips, then slipped the canteen back in place. He shifted the boy to his other side. “The road is about ten feet that way,” he said, pointing. “Which way is your Jeep?”
She walked through the brush to the edge of the road. Once there, she looked to the left, then to the right. He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You can’t remember.”
She turned around and glared at him. “Listen, Rambo, I’m not having a good day here. You didn’t kill me, so I assume you’re either toying with me, waiting to turn me back over to Kray or you’re genuinely trying to help. As you pointed out, you’re stronger than me, you’re armed and right now you’re holding my son. I think you’ve got enough of an advantage without resorting to giving me a hard time, as well.”
“The name’s Jeff,” he said.
Her gaze narrowed. “Is there a last name, or don’t I need to know?”
He didn’t answer.
“Figures.”