Last Chance Hero. Melinda Di Lorenzo
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I can’t go through that again.
A blast of air hit her as Denny opened the door, and when Jordynn saw that the sun was up almost completely now, a new hope came to mind. More people would be awake. Her neighbor—Tom—he was the earliest riser on the block. But others would be stirring soon, if not now. Making their breakfast, going to work.
Someone will see us and call the police. Someone has to.
But the hope fizzled quickly. Denny kept pressed close to the house and out of view of the street, and the large hedges that lined the yard provided plenty of cover. He slid smoothly along the edge of the building, moving like Jordynn’s weight was nothing. As he snapped open the back gate and moved swiftly down the driveway toward the alley, she wished she were confident enough to drive her bound hands into his kidney and fight like crazy to get away. But she wasn’t convinced she was strong enough to hurt the big man, let alone do enough damage that he’d be forced to drop her. And even if she could do it, she somehow doubted she’d be able to get away faster than he could recover.
Still.
She couldn’t let herself just be taken without a fight, no matter how futile it seemed.
She lifted her arms, then slammed them into his back. Denny didn’t even grunt.
Jordynn made a second attempt. He just spun her around, bent down and dumped her to the ground. She let out a cry—or at least tried to—as her whole body smacked against the gravel. She fought the tears that wanted so desperately to come. She rolled to her back and refused to let them out, staring up at the tree cover above her.
Before that second, she’d always loved the evergreen that grew between the backyards. But right then, they served no purpose but to block her from view of anyone who might be inclined to call 911. And the sight of them above her just made her want to cry even more.
It intensified when Denny spoke. “This plan’ll work even if you’re unconscious. If you don’t want me to make that happen...nod.”
Jordynn forced her head up and down, and the big man reached down to pick her up again. Her despair grew even worse when he folded her into the sedan’s trunk, then slammed the lid shut, pitching her into near-complete darkness. Then the car hummed to life, and Jordynn remembered Denny’s plan to leave it running with her still inside, and those tears threatened again.
She needed something to pull her out of it. But her mind was as dark as the trunk.
So you’re just going to do what? Give up? Rely on Dono, who really might not be coming?
Then—somehow—she found her much-needed motivation.
Donovan.
Or more specifically, the idea that once again, she might never see him. Might never hear his laugh.
His laugh.
God, how she’d always loved the sound it. The way it felt on a pillow next to her head. How it boomed when he really let it go. It was something she never thought she’d hear again. And truthfully, her memory hadn’t done it justice. The bass-y noise warmed Jordynn, tugging at her heart far more than she wanted it to. She wanted to smile and cry at the same time. And wanted to hear it again.
It was enough to remind her that she had no interest in being bait.
She heaved sideways and eyed the taillights. Quickly, she decided that even if she could kick them hard enough to break through the double layer of plastic, it would do no good. And it would alert Denny to the fact that she wasn’t simply letting him use her the way he wanted to.
Jordynn rolled to her back, toyed with the idea of slamming her feet into the lid, then dismissed that, too. The noise might bring help. But more likely it would just bring Denny.
Frustrated, Jordynn exhaled and tilted her head to the other side. Through the cushion backs, she could see a sliver of light. And with that...a sliver of hope.
She inched closer, then reached her bound hands out and ran them along the edge of the seats, right where they met the trunk. She squeezed her fingers into the opening and felt around for a latch. The metal hinges scraped across the backs of her wrists, but Jordynn didn’t stop. She pushed farther in, and in moments, she found a stiff piece of plastic. When she closed her fingers on it, it sprung up with surprising ease. And as she nudged the seat with her shoulder, it folded forward. For a second, Jordynn was surprised into stillness.
Her brain caught up first.
You did it! Now go, go, go, it urged.
And her body was quick to listen.
She wriggled over the flattened seat, careful to keep low and out of sight. It wasn’t exactly easy to be subtle with both her ankles and her wrists tied together. When her hips got stuck in the narrow opening, it took every bit of core strength she had to pull herself through. Her lungs burned with the exertion, and she was as sweaty as she got running her mile-a-day workout. But her hard work paid off. In under three minutes, she made it through to the back. Another thirty seconds—and a fight with the center console—put her in the driver’s seat. The keys jangled in the ignition. Waiting.
What now?
A glance out the window told her she didn’t have long to decide.
Dono’s familiar form had appeared at the end of the alleyway. And Denny was already slithering along the fence toward him.
* * *
The woman he loved, in easy reach.
The woman he loved, trapped in the trunk of a car.
No one in sight and the car in question running for too many minutes.
Logically, Donovan knew it was a trap.
But logic has nothing to do with it, he thought. And besides that...I’ve waited long enough.
He slowly stalked toward the sedan, his eyes on the prize, but stopped short when a flash of red in the front seat caught his attention. He stared for a long second. There it was again.
“Holy hell,” he murmured. “She got out.”
Impressed and encouraged, he took another step forward. It was that one extra stride that saved him as a silenced bullet flew through the air. Instead of hitting him, it dug itself deep into the ground near his foot.
His eyes flew up in surprise.
There.
A man in the shadows and a flash of silver. And the click of a gun cocking.
Donovan dived, and this time the shot went wide, lodging in the fence beside him.
He threw himself forward, aiming his full body weight at the shooter, who clearly wasn’t expecting an attack. The other man edged away clumsily, and a fist came flying toward Donovan’s gut. The punch was a wild one, though, and it just grazed his T-shirt.
Donovan stumbled, sending up a cloud of dust from the gravel beneath his feet. Even though he recovered quickly, the gray dirt was already in his eyes and mouth, blinding him