The guy in uniform took out his own guy and got away. So much for loyalty.” Cam lifted his hands and caught her, easing her to the floor and not letting go until she found her equilibrium. “You need to grab a bag and change your clothes, or at least your shirt.”
“Why?”
“You can’t stay here.” He pointed around the room. “This is a mess and I don’t know why the guy was shooting, so I need you off Calapan.”
“Normally I’d get indignant and tell you not to order me around, but I’m okay with it this time.” She handed his gun back to him.
He slipped it into the back waistband of his pants. “I knew you were smart.”
“We need to get to the ferry.” She wiped her hands on her thighs and blew out a long breath. “We can take my truck.”
Looked as though she had more bad news in front of her. He winced. “Was it blue?”
“Was?”
Cam didn’t see a vehicle outside. Unless she had a secret hiding place, they could add another criminal charge to the fake chief’s list. “The one who got away took it.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding?”
In light of the past few minutes, the response struck him as overblown. Probably had something to do with the reaction to violence. She didn’t double over or hide in a corner, but she did latch on to odd things. He could handle that. “I’m thinking a stolen car is not the worst thing to happen to you today.”
“It’s a two-mile walk to the ferry and we only have four a day. We miss it and we’re trapped here. On this island.”
The bad news just kept coming. He pushed aside his plans to hunt the shooter down and focused on this problem. There was only one solution—call in the cavalry.
He glanced at his watch and pushed the button. The one that sent an emergency signal out to the rest of the men. “We’ll rendezvous with my team and get you to safety.”
“Alive?” She managed to load that one word with a heap of sarcasm.
He didn’t let her tone derail him. “My promise to do everything to keep you safe still stands.”
“I’m holding you to it.” She stared at him as if needing further reassurance.
He didn’t have anything other than his word, which was pretty damn solid, so he nodded. “Good.”
Julia led him through the woods. The trees soared above their heads, blocking the late-afternoon sun and casting a chill over her. Light filtered through the branches and spots of sunshine highlighted parts of the rough terrain, but for the most part they had to rely on her sense of direction as a guide.
As a kid she’d used the forest area as a playground. There she could hide from her father’s alcohol-fueled rages and all the yelling. She’d breathe in the scent of the wet ground mixed with pine and be surrounded by calm, if only for a short time.
Being there now qualified as the exact opposite of calm. Her stomach tumbled and her nerves jingled, making her jump at every little sound. The chirping birds and the swishing as the wind blew the leaves around, usually soothing, just had her twitching.
Cam walked next to her, keeping their pace brisk. Every time she stumbled over roots or overturned rocks, his arm shot out and he steadied her. She appreciated the assist but really just wanted to get on a ferry and head for Seattle. Her father’s estate and the selling of the house could wait. She’d figure out the truck and how to remove dead bodies later.
She shivered at the thought. When her brain hiccuped over the destruction and seeing all that blood, she turned to the very real issue that she had to let someone in authority know. That would lead to questions she couldn’t answer and the possibility of getting in trouble.
But the police could question her in her small apartment back in her Belltown neighborhood, because she was officially done with Calapan Island. This time forever, because nothing and no one bound her there now.
The place was gorgeous but had never been anything more than a scary death trap for her. That used to be metaphorical in many ways; now it was literal. She’d had to walk over dead bodies with her backpack on her shoulders to get out of her father’s old house.
But really, right now she needed something to take her mind off all the terror and violence. Mr. Tall, Dark and Oh-So-Good-Looking beside her needed to step up and help on that score.
“Say something.” She issued the order and then went back to stepping over mounds of this and that on the ground.
He shot her a side glance before returning to his never-ending scan of the area around them. “Your shirt is bright purple.”
Not exactly what she’d had in mind, but the comment was potentially annoying and right now she’d take that over noticing his firm jaw and general hotness. “You’re critiquing my wardrobe?”
“I was hoping you’d pick something that blended in.”
A solid response, but not a request she could make happen. “Every shirt I own is a bright color.”
He looked at her again, but this time his gaze lingered. “Why?”
“Because I’m tired of blending in.” She’d spent her entire youth trying not to draw her father’s attention at the wrong time. Since he drank almost nonstop, that had turned out to be always.
But she was an adult now and refused to be defined by her father’s issues. She just wished she’d been stronger on that point and had confronted him before he fell out of his boat, hit his head and died. His death left her with a mix of guilt and regret and more than a little bit of anger over all she had lived through and the baggage she still carried around.
Cam shrugged. “I thought you picked it because you looked so good in bold colors. They suit you.”
Her sneaker slipped and she lost her footing. One wrong step and she turned her ankle as she bit back a string of profanity.
“You okay?” He faced her with both hands on her forearms.
She bit her lip. It was either that or grimace. “Yeah.”
“Julia, I need to know the truth here.” His expression went blank and his voice grew serious. “I can always carry you, if needed.”
“That is not going to happen.” She balanced her body against his, digging her fingernails into his arms as she shook out the sore ankle.
“You sure?”
“It’s just a twinge.” One that made her vision blink out for a second and her head spin.
When she moved her foot to the right, pain screamed through her. She’d done this a million times. Years ago she’d stopped running because of weak ankles. Well, that and because of her absolute hatred of running. But she knew the pain
