reached out and put a chokehold on his throat. But it did.
They were out of the parking lot and a full two blocks down the street before Eve reacted.
She scooted forward. “Don’t pay any attention to my friend,” she said to the driver. “We’re going to the Pier. You’ll drop us off there, and I’ll give you the other hundred, as agreed.”
“No way,” the driver argued. “He said he’d give me twice as much.”
Eve reached into the bag she kept close to her side and withdrew the Glock. “But I’m the one with the gun,” she countered.
The kid’s head whipped to the right.
“Watch it, man!” his friend shouted.
Horns blared.
The driver turned the car back over the line he’d crossed.
“The Pier.” Eve reminded him. “Straight there.” She instructed him on the most direct route. “Make it fast, but stay close to the speed limit.”
Eve leaned back in her seat and divided her attention between the driver and J.T., but she kept the Glock aimed directly at him.
She was not happy.
Tough.
Neither was he.
She’d better brace herself. Once they were at their new destination, this reunion was over.
J.T. decided then and there that he no longer cared about the why. He’d spent two weeks tearing himself apart, desperately seeking the truth.
That was the moment the situation crystallized: in a stranger’s minivan with the business end of a Glock directed at him.
It didn’t matter why. She had dumped him. Disappeared. It was over.
Who she was or what she was into had nothing to do with him, no matter what she said.
He hadn’t recognized the five men who’d shot at them, then gave chase. He damned sure didn’t recognize the woman sitting a scarce eighteen inches away.
Long, silent minutes later the driver took the final turn to the Pier.
“Drive to the end of the block,” Eve instructed, breaking the long stretch of intense quiet. “We’ll get out at the intersection.”
“Whatever you say, lady.”
J.T. steeled for making his break.
His cell phone and wallet were missing. But he wasn’t concerned. He would find someone, even at this hour, around the Pier. All he needed was one minute on a cell phone, and help from the Colby Agency would be dispatched.
The van braked to a stop.
Eve shoved the second hundred at the driver. “Thanks, kid.” She reached for the sliding door on her side. “And remember, this never happened.”
The kid stared at the money in his hand. “That part could be extra.” His greedy gaze lit up with hope.
“That’s all you get, kid,” Eve warned. “Don’t push your luck.”
“But he said—” the kid started to argue.
“He,” Eve interrupted, “doesn’t have a weapon.”
The kid backed off. “Whatever you say, lady.”
J.T. got out on his side of the vehicle. He started in the direction of the Pier. Didn’t look back.
The van rolled away from the curb, passing him as it barreled forward.
“You’re making a mistake,” Eve shouted at his back.
He kept walking, refusing to spare even a backward glance.
She hustled up next to him. “You’re going with me, J.T.”
He didn’t slow his stride. “Not a chance.”
She stopped.
He kept walking.
The sound of a car door closing told him she’d gotten into one of the vehicles lining the curb.
Apparently she’d had a plan B. He hadn’t recognized the vehicle they’d left at the movie theater. Probably a rental. Who knew? He didn’t know her at all. Didn’t know what she liked…what she drove…that she had a fetish for guns.
Nothing.
He’d been a fool.
A few seconds later a car slowed on the street next to him. The passenger-side window powered down. “Get in the car, J.T.”
He ignored her order.
She braked hard, got out. “We’re wasting time,” she shouted over the top of the car. “Get in now!”
He hesitated, turned to stare at her. “Or what? You’ll shoot.” He sent a pointed look at the weapon in her hand.
She didn’t immediately answer.
“So shoot.” He turned away and started forward again.
“Give me two hours,” she called after him. “I’ll explain everything.”
Something had changed in her voice. There was a desperation there…a fear…almost.
He shook his head, wasn’t going to be fooled by her again. Whatever she said, this couldn’t have anything to do with him.
And he was out of here.
“J.T., please. I need your help.”
His step faltered. He told himself to keep walking, but his feet failed him.
“Just hear me out,” she pleaded. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Fury pulsed in his jaw. He wanted to pretend the past couple of months had never happened. That he hadn’t met and fallen in love with her.
The men who’d shot at them…the chase…zoomed into vivid focus in his mind.
She was in trouble. Obviously. Whatever it was about, she needed help. He couldn’t deny that singular fact.
Nor could he deny another glaring fact.
He couldn’t just walk away and pretend he no longer cared.
He did care.
Damn him.
Mentally kicking himself for being a fool, he changed directions and strode up to the car waiting in the street. The sparse traffic glided around her, the other cars’ occupants likely assuming the two were in the midst of a lovers’ spat.
