that was normal—ever—but he did understand her need. Her life had just been turned on its head a second time. Normalcy was necessary, even if it was an illusion.
Jackson grabbed some fresh clothes and headed into the shower. He needed some time alone to rebuild the professional wall he’d breached when he’d held her in his arms last night. The embrace had been natural, an offer of solace to a fellow human in need. He hadn’t expected to be the one feeling comforted.
An hour later, with the car packed and ready to move at a moment’s notice, Jackson drove them into town. It was his concession to her desire to walk. He’d drive to town, then they could walk and catch a bite to eat. His office said there was no indication of trouble, no evidence they’d been trailed. He guessed they could handle an hour in one small town at Christmas.
There was a huge lunch smorgasbord at the Church Hall and Callie talked him into eating there. Up until yesterday she’d roamed freely around New York City, she reminded him. As Jackson watched her chat with the locals and drink in the festive atmosphere, he decided the change was good for her. She had a knack for making friends and fitting herself in, which would suit her well in witness protection. Whereas he would have stayed back, grabbed a burger at the corner diner and been on his way, she’d jumped right into the thick of the celebration. After the harrowing past twenty-four hours, it was nice to see her relax.
An hour became two, and Jackson was more than ready to move on. “Callie.”
She grinned at him, and it was such a contrast to her frightened, shell-shocked expression of yesterday that he found himself grinning back. But they were still leaving.
As they walked out to the car, she touched his arm to stop him. “Can you give me just five more minutes? There’s something I need to buy. The pastor’s wife told me I can get it in that little shop on the corner.”
“Callie, we really need to get moving.”
Her face fell. Jackson kicked himself. Maybe it was female things she needed.
“Five minutes.”
She ran off, promising to be back in four.
Jackson leaned back against the car and stared at the small shop she’d entered. No female things in there. What could she possibly need from a trinket shop like that?
Whatever it was, she was true to her word. He’d watched the numbers on his phone advance only three minutes when she came dancing out the door.
Jackson grinned looking at her. Ben was right. She was charming when she was happy. He watched her come down the steps of the gift shop, her cheeks rosy from the cold, her lips curved in a smile that hinted of happy secrets.
She started to cross. Instinct had him on alert, so he sensed the car almost before he saw it. He yelled a warning as a dark vehicle came barreling around the corner. Too late he realized it was coming directly between him and Callie. The wheels screeched as the driver skidded to a halt and two men jumped out.
Jackson charged across the street, yelling for help. He pulled his gun and tried to take aim, but he couldn’t get a clear shot. There were too many families to risk shooting. He ran faster, but it felt like concrete blocks were dragging at his feet. Everything moved in slow motion as one man grabbed Callie around the waist and the other one shoved her toward the open car door.
There was no way he could reach her in time.
* * *
Callie heard Jackson’s yell a split second before a black SUV cut to the curb in front of her. Tinted windows made it impossible to see inside. She had no time to react as men jumped from the car and grabbed her.
No! She hadn’t gotten this far just to let them take her now. At least not willingly. She screamed and kicked as hard as she could.
She may as well have been kicking cement for all the good it did. One man had his hands around her wrists like manacles while the other held everyone off with his gun.
Callie stopped struggling. There were too many children on the street. She couldn’t risk one of them being hurt. She heard Jackson yelling as they shoved her into the SUV. The door slammed behind her, the engine raced and the car leaped forward.
Facedown on the seat, Callie couldn’t see anything, but she felt the car gathering speed. Her heart sank. It was over. Despite all the precautions. She should have listened to Jackson, should have stayed in the hotel room. Now, because she’d wanted to celebrate Christmas, there would be no one to testify against the killers, no one to see justice done for Rick.
No. She wasn’t giving up. As long as she was breathing, there was still a chance. Rick may have made poor choices, but he hadn’t deserved to die for them and she wasn’t going to make it easy for his killers to dispose of her. Hopefully there would be time for regrets later, time to tell Jackson she’d do whatever he asked. First she had to figure a way out of here.
Callie held herself very still, not an easy feat as the car careened down the road. She tried to get her bearings, evaluate the predicament. There were three men—the driver, the one she thought of as the gunman and the one who had grabbed her. None of them was saying a word, but the tension in the car was intense. Was someone—possibly Jackson—following them?
The gunman fired a shot out the window, and Callie’s heart seized. Please, Lord, don’t let him hurt Jackson. None of this is his fault.
“Can you see who’s following us?”
Based on the direction of the sound, Callie attributed the question to the driver. She couldn’t make out the reply. Without moving her head, Callie eased an eye open. She couldn’t see anyone so she waited. When there was no reaction, she slowly turned, moving her head in minute increments until she could see ahead. Unbelievably, no one seemed to be paying attention to her. Maybe they thought she’d been stunned when they threw her in the car. The driver was concentrating on the road and the gunman held his head just inside the open window, his gun outside and aimed at the car in pursuit. The man who had grabbed her, and who was probably supposed to be watching her, had turned his back to play lookout. “Speed it up. He’s gaining on us.”
Sirens crowded the air and filled Callie’s heart with relief. The feeling lasted only an instant; it was replaced by fear as the driver hit the gas harder and the lookout pulled out his weapon and began firing. She was going to have to do something to improve her odds if she wanted to survive.
Callie took a minute to consider the possibilities. It would have helped to know the rules. Was she supposed to be taken alive, or didn’t it matter if they only delivered her body? Knowing that answer would improve her chances of making the right choice of who in the SUV to attack.
Because she didn’t know, she’d go with the one thing that was clear in her mind. Being taken—dead or alive—was not an option she was willing to consider.
The driver seemed the best choice. She had little chance against a man with a gun, but if she could take the driver by surprise maybe she could crash the car.
“How are we doing?” The driver barked the question at the man in the passenger seat.
Good. She’d like to know that, too.
“They’re falling back.” He took aim and let off another shot. “Got a tire. Another few shots, and we should be clear.”
Which
