Stunned, she froze, mouth open.
“I need a car now,” he said, shoving his dark wavy hair away from his face. Even from an awkward angle, his blue eyes captivated her. Their bright hue was startling from beneath his long dark lashes. Throw in his rude brass behavior and she almost bolted. What if he was working for Steven?
Only her dire circumstances gave her the courage to hold her ground. Well, that and the fact if he were working for Steven, he would be addressing her not the clerk. Sticking her hand into her purse, she searched for the mace she’d bought for protection. If she had to, she’d use it.
The man stood a good five inches taller than her, well-coordinated for his size and far too handsome for his own good. That one fact, took him out of the running for one of Steven’s goons. Steven would never higher a man better looking than himself.
She collected her scattered thoughts, a fleeting moment of why he might be in such a hurry zipping by. No reason in the world mattered. Nothing gave him the right to push his way to the front. She might not have been standing right at the counter, but anyone with half a brain could tell she was next.
“Is there anyone back there?” he bellowed, directing his voice toward the open doorway just behind the counter. He never even acknowledged her presence.
“Coming!” a voice called through the opened doorway.
Just as the man opened his mouth to yell again, the large cheerful woman Makayla spoke to minutes before emerged. “Just needed to check our inventory. Sorry for the wait.”
“What do you mean check your inventory?” His voice held a threatening pitch. Makayla clutched the can of mace in her purse tighter and took a few steps back.
“What I mean is, we have one more sports utility vehicle capable of traveling in this storm.” She smiled reassuringly. “But you’ll need chains.”
Makayla released the can of mace and almost fell to the floor.
Chains?
Their last chance of escape was about to be torn right from her hands by a pompous jerk and the fact she was clueless about chains. What was she going to do? She couldn’t stay in the airport.
Then it hit her. She had not come all this way, planned all this time and took all these chances to let some stranger destroy it all.
“Sir, I’m afraid that vehicle belongs to me. See, I already have my paperwork filled out.” She held up the papers to prove her point and cringed as they shook within her grasp.
“Excuse me?” He turned to face her, his deep throaty tone sending shivers down to her toes. Not to mention what those eyes were doing to her insides. They were a hue of blue she’d never seen before and they were drilling right into her.
“I’m so sorry. But my son and I have to leave tonight.”
We have no other choice
, she said to herself.
“I see.” He was clearly a man of few words. She watched petrified as he studied her face and then flicked a brief glance over to her son, who danced excitedly behind her. “Does he need a potty break?”
“What?” The comment caught her off guard. His sudden interest in Michael set off all kinds of alarms. “No,” she said moving to stand in front of her son. “He’s just ready to get going.” She felt like she was sweating buckets under his intense stare. “I hope you understand.”
“Which way you headed?”
Gulp
. The last thing she wanted was to tell anyone where she was going. Steven had ways to make even the most reluctant person talk. “South.”
Without another word to her, he turned to the lady behind the counter. “
We’ll
take it.”
Makayla’s mouth dropped a good three inches. She felt the ground shift beneath her feet.
We’ll take it?
Who the heck was he talking about? Was someone traveling with him?
“Sir. Did you hear me?” Her voice cracked and she mentally scolded her lack of control.
The man didn’t respond.
Makayla stood silent and watched as he signed the papers and handed them back to the lady. She’d just let her entire future flash before her.
Coward.
The lady behind the counter looked in her direction with a questioning eye. She knew Makayla was in the right.
Say something. Stick up for yourself.
“Are you ready?” The man now stood in front of her like a giant, holding his laptop with one hand, a brown overnight bag slung over his broad shoulder.
She just blinked at him.
Ready for what?
“Do you have any luggage?” Deep lines eased into the corners of his eyes as he squinted, like he was trying to read her mind and figure out what was wrong with her.
Again, no words came out.
He placed the laptop on the chair beside Michael and took her cold hand in his. “Look, I’m not going to hurt you. We are just going to share a ride. I’ll get you to the next town and you can get your own car there.” He paused to let his statement sink in. “Okay?”
His hand warm and so much bigger than her own comforted more than she wanted to admit. When he spoke, he searched her face, the savage expression softening. Oh, dear God. Did she have a choice?
“Okay,” she said, her throat so dry she feared a coughing fit would follow. “Thanks. But only to the next town.”
“Yeah. Don’t thank me yet. Let’s get going before the weather turns worse.” He grabbed his laptop, shifting the bag higher on his shoulder to accommodate the extra weight and then picked up her small bag with the other hand and headed toward the parking garage.
“Who’s the man, Mommy?” Michael asked as she picked him up to follow after the stranger in a brisk walk. This man, whoever he was, had to know that a small boy Michael’s age wasn’t capable of walking so quickly. Yet he continued on without even glancing back.
Doubts bombarded her control. What was she doing? What was his hurry? Was he really desperate to leave, or desperate to deliver her into the hands of the devil she called her husband? Could he be working for Steven?
It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t even gotten his name.
Stupid, stupid,
she told herself. No one knew where she was or where she was going. She could have just made the second worst mistake of her life.
But she didn’t have time to contemplate his motives. A feeling deep inside urged her to trust him and for right now it was all she could do.
Lord, please protect us.
Her prayers were getting few and farther between. She’d prayed for so long to be freed from her torture that she’d almost given up on her faith. Where had God been all those horrifying nights? Taking matters into her own hands appeared her only option to survive.
But if by some small chance, God was still listening, she wanted her prayer out there for him to hear. They needed one thing right now.
A miracle.
Steven Prichard stood at the window of his San Francisco penthouse, gazing down at the busy street below. Where the hell was she? How could she? How dare she?
His teeth ground inside his mouth, sending tiny pricks of pain traveling along his jawline.
Funny
. It was actually difficult for him to breathe. Just the idea she managed to escape, got the best of him, was making his life a living hell. To top that little blunder off, his mother would never let him live it down.
He couldn’t believe it. Still hadn’t dealt with the shock of it all. A quick trip to the gym and a round with a punching bag would do the trick for the moment. And when he found her…
In his mind, there was no need to worry. He’d get her back. When he did, she’d never walk, much less run again. She would never humiliate him like this again. Ever.
But first he had to find her.
She’d been clever, brainier than he’d ever given her credit for. Being a master at deception himself, he’d give her points for that. Very few clues were left behind. Tricking Ricky into taking her to the mall to get a last minute Christmas present for her dear husband was priceless. Having a taxi waiting? Someone to run interference? This was no last minute operation. She’d planned her escape in great detail. Been extra careful not to spark any suspicions.
Smart girl
, he sneered.
Pinching the nerve at the back of his neck to get it to quit jerking, he turned to the men standing quietly behind him.
“Which one of you don’t-value-my-life-enough-to-pay-attention dicks is going to explain how one tiny female towing a five-year-old boy slipped through your fingers without a trace?” The two men hired to watch Makayla day and night stood like huge statues. They were used to this abuse and got paid a hefty price to endure whatever the hell he decided to dish out.
“It was Ricky, sir. He relieved us and took her to the mall.”
Steven’s heart pounded loudly in his ears.
Yeah. He knew that already
. But there was no way Ricky had betrayed him. No way his right hand man had helped her escape. Especially when Steven held the fate of Ricky’s niece and sister in his hands. “Find her!”
Steven’s shriek bounced off the walls after them as they exited the room. He could feel the anger blistering the lining inside his stomach. It took all his restraint not to kick the damn dog at his feet clear across the room. Maverick was his prize possession. A pure bred male Rottweiler sporting papers a mile long and a hefty price tag to boot.
She’d done this to him. Made him a raving lunatic and it only infuriated him more. She’d pay. No matter how long it took, he’d find her. He’d make certain she suffered for her betrayal.
Bending down, he stroked the dog’s head. Like a good canine, a true meaning of the saying “man’s best friend,” Maverick never left his side. Even to sleep. He was always there, watching, waiting, and looking for ways to please his master. That’s the way Steven liked it, the way he would have liked Makayla to act.
But she was too willful, too caught up in their son and his needs to care about Steven’s desires anymore.
Shit
, he was so glad he’d faked their marriage now. It had been his mother’s idea and she’d planned the entire charade. His dear mom had no intentions of letting Makayla have any rights to the family’s money. No matter how much Steven loved his little tramp.
When his mother found out about the baby, she’d gone into cardiac arrest. Steven would never forgive Makayla for that. Steven knew the rules of the game long before Makayla entered the picture and that’s why he’d forbidden her to even think about getting pregnant.
Not even one year into their so-called marriage, she’d disobeyed him. The night she’d told him still grated on his psyche. She’d been happy about it. He could see it in her eyes. And even after the beating he’d given her, the little rugrat survived.
He felt his blood pressure rise and held his breath to counter act the aftermath. Heartburn was never kind.
Thankfully, the telephone rang before he completely went over the edge. He crossed the floor in less time than a marathon runner with the finish line in his sights and snatched up the receiver.
“Hello.” He managed to take a short breath after speaking.
“Mr. Prichard?” The voice wasn’t familiar.
“Yes, this is Steven Prichard.” His mind strained to find a face for the voice, irritation growing.
“This is Tori Peak, with Northwest Airlines over at the Carson City Airport. We met at that ceremony for the San Francisco Police horse that passed away a few years back. My uncle’s the police chief.”
“Yes.” A dead horse? Still clueless.
“I’m calling to let you know we found your wife’s airline tickets. She must have left them on the counter while waiting for her flight. When I saw the name, well, I wanted to call you in person right away.”
The walls seemed to close in around him, a giddy feeling bubbling up in his gut. It paid to know the right people. Or, in truth, it paid to pay off the right people. Although sleeping with their relatives got tricky at times. He still had no clue who this girl was.
“Are you sure they belong to Makayla Prichard?”
“Oh, yes. And there is one for your son too. He looks just like you by the way.” She laughed.
He ignored her last comment and flirty banter. So this girl had seen them? “Flight? Where to?”
“The tickets were for a one way trip to New York City, but because of the storm in Denver the flight was cancelled.” The girl paused only briefly, clearly hurt by his indifference. “Mr. Prichard, we can still get them on the next flight out if she’s interested. Looks like she didn’t stick around long enough to make arrangements for a new flight.”
There went his blood pressure rising again. One way tickets? So she really had planned on leaving him—for good.
He kept holding on to the hope that she was just taking a short break. Maybe trying to prove a small point. A little blunder he might even be able to forgive and forget. In time.
But this? This was a clear undermining of his authority. This was something he could never, ever forgive and would be a cold day in hell before he forgot.
“Mr. Prichard, would you like to make arrangements for another flight, maybe use them for yourself, and a
friend
?” she said, lowering her voice on the last word.