The Mistaken (25 page)

Hannah

The longer we sat in the car together, the more
uncomfortable it became. The silence was like a ticking clock, its
volume so loud. It drove me closer to madness with each passing
second. I needed to understand what was going to happen in the few
days he said we’d be gone. I looked over at him, and though I know
he must have noticed, he didn’t turn to face me. His eyes were
glued to the freeway. The fact that he tried to ignore me in the
small confines of the car unnerved me even more.

I cleared my throat. “So, what’s the plan?” I
asked.

He broke his concentration on the road and glanced
over at me. “The plan?”

“Yeah, your plan. Some kind of contingency. Surely
you’ve thought that far ahead.”

His brow rose high above his startling blue eyes.
“No, I’m afraid not.” He turned back to the road again. His jaw
ticked repeatedly.

“Okay then,” I tried again. “Where are we
going?”

“Forward, as best as I can tell,” he replied. I
didn’t appreciate his mockery and my expression told him so.
“Sorry, just trying to lighten the mood,” he added.

“Look, Tyler, all things considered, you can’t
expect me to just trust you. I need to know where we’re going and
what we’re going to do once we get there. I think I have the right
to know.”

He studied me for a moment and agreed with a nod.
“Yeah, you’re right, you do, but…I don’t have an answer for you.
I’m inclined to head back to California.”

“California. For God’s sake, why? If that’s where
your brother’s friends are, isn’t that more than a little
dangerous? Especially for me?”

“I won’t let them get anywhere near you, I promise.
But I can’t ignore them either. We’ll just take a longer route.
Give Nick time to smooth things over a little.”

“Your brother didn’t sound too confident about being
able to smooth things over.” And I wasn’t feeling very confident
about letting either of them determine my future.

“Yeah well, I think he has more influence than he
knows, and once his associates realize that bargaining will net
them something, rather than nothing, they’ll renegotiate. They’re
businessmen, after all,” he said then paused briefly. “But you’re
right. We do need some kind of plan.”

“Okay then. What is it? What’s your brilliant plan?
Because it’s certainly not going back to California.”

He shot me an exasperated look, and I was pleased I
could get under his skin, even just a little.

“Well, first we need some cash.” He looked over at
me expectantly. “Like Nick said, we need to stay off the grid as
much as possible. They’ll know to be looking for me, so I can’t use
my bank cards. They don’t know about you though. At least not yet.”
He cocked his eyebrow, as if willing me to understand his
point.

“What does
that
mean? Surely you don’t expect
me
to finance my own kidnapping?”

He flashed me a brilliant smile, his eyes sparkling
with mischief. I stared like a moron and snapped my mouth shut,
making a conscious effort to pull my eyes back into their
sockets.

“Well, your husband anyway,” he replied, still
grinning ear to ear.

I spun around and focused blindly out my side
window. “Yeah, right…my husband.”

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew he was purposely trying to
manipulate me with his charm. But it didn’t seem to matter much
what I knew. I still had a visceral reaction to his smile, and as
much as it irritated me to admit, it caught me a little off guard.
I felt betrayed by my body to have even the slightest response to
it, involuntary or otherwise. Of course, I would never let him see
it, but it struck me then that good-looking men like Tyler knew
exactly the effect they had on women.

It wasn’t surprising though. Beautiful women were
common; handsome men were not. But honestly, you couldn’t even
categorize Tyler as simply handsome. He was heartbreakingly
perfect, every part of him, save his twisted soul. If I had met him
under any other circumstances, I likely would have been drawn to
him immediately. I imagine it probably drove his wife crazy the way
women must have hit on him. It always bothered me when it happened
to Beck, and, sadly enough, he couldn’t hold a candle to the man
beside me, at least not physically.

I stole a furtive glance, noting his eyes were
surely his most interesting feature; that is when he wasn’t
scowling. They were the clearest, brightest, most intense shade of
blue I’d ever seen, and when he smiled, they kind of crinkled up at
the corners, radiating out toward his temples, like rays of
sunshine on a child’s drawing. It made him seem so approachable,
something I found hard to swallow after the morning I’d spent with
him. That, in itself, aggravated me to no end.

He had remarkable cheekbones, too, sculpted high and
set widely apart with a slightly crooked nose between and a
balanced brow above. Most women would kill for a bone structure
like his, yet he carried it off with absolute masculinity. His jaw
was strong with that scruffy, unkempt look many women found
irresistible, something I was not altogether immune to. I swallowed
hard at my musings, berating myself for being even remotely aware
of his physical appearance. But I’d only seen him smile a few
times, and then it was hardly more than a brittle smirk, so in all
honesty, when he graced me with that last brilliant grin, I just
couldn’t help but be affected, much to my horror.

But more than anything, it was his fragility that
struck me. Most of the time, his expression had been one of rage,
remorse, or even fear with his brow gathered in an intense furrow.
Like a raptor on the hunt, it made him appear dangerous, which, of
course he was, but it also made him seem vulnerable somehow, and
flawed, though not in a physical way. It was more emotional, as if
he’d been beaten down by life, taken every punch yet still tried to
stand.

That look of vulnerability tugged inexplicably at my
heart. It made the mother in me want to run my finger over the
wrinkle in his brow, to smooth it away and erase whatever pain had
caused it. I knew I shouldn’t, considering what he’d put me
through, but for some reason, I felt very badly for this man. No
one should have to endure what he had, and I realized that, though
I was indeed his victim, I was also the victim of his tormentor
every bit as much as he was. Erin Anderson had stung me twice over
now. I would not let there be a third.

“Hello…Hannah? Did you hear me?” Tyler asked,
interrupting my thoughts.

My face heated with embarrassment.

“You looked a million miles away. Did you even hear
a word I said? We need cash first, then gas for your car. Maybe get
some food for the road so we don’t have to stop again. How does all
that sound to you...as the financier, I mean?”

Damn, there he was again with that smile. I ground
my teeth together.

“Would you knock that off?” I huffed.

“What?”

“You know what. All that…smiling. You can’t charm
me, you know. Do you do that on purpose, just to get your way?”

He looked indignant at first, with his mouth held
open. But then he snapped it shut and looked away with a tiny smile
playing at one corner of his mouth.

“No. Well…not for a long time, anyway. I didn’t need
to with my wife.”

I snickered. “I bet.”

“What? Is there something wrong? You don’t like my
smile?” he asked, genuinely surprised. “I find that…rather
strange.”

“Strange? Why? Do women make a habit of falling at
your feet when you grace them with your smile?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“Good, because I damn sure won’t.” I wagged my
finger between us. “This whole attacker, victim thing we have going
on kind of ruins it for me, you know.”

He shot me a heated look, another score for me.
“Look, I don’t expect you to understand. It’s just
that…well…Jillian… She loved my smile. Said it was my best feature,
her favorite. That and my crow’s feet,” he admitted with a shrug.
“Not that I ever really understood that.”

His voice softened and his eyes took on a faraway
look. I must admit, I preferred that look to the scowl he usually
wore. He appeared content, maybe even a bit happy. I would have
liked to preserve that look for a while longer, for my sanity’s
sake at least. He seemed less threatening that way, not quite so
scary, and my nerves were grateful for it.

“What else did she like about you?” I asked.

He turned my way, studying my face for a brief
moment before he turned back with a small sigh. “She rather liked
my accent.” He smiled to himself, just a touch. “I can’t tell you
how many times she told me that American girls loved a guy with an
accent.” He looked temporarily lost in his memories but then turned
back to me. “Is that true? Do you American girls fancy men with
accents?” He smiled, teasing me, but then he brought himself up
short. “Oops, sorry. There I go again.” He chuckled at my
expense.

I folded my arms over my chest and turned away. We
both remained quiet for a while, caught up in our own thoughts, but
my curiosity was as restless as I, and though I was almost afraid
to ask, I figured he might enjoy sharing a little about his wife.
He was calmer when he talked about her, and I found I was less
afraid of him when he was calm.

“It’s obvious, you know,” I said.

“What is?”

“That you loved your wife.”

He nodded, pausing to swallow before he answered.
“Yes, I did, very much. Still do.”

“And what did you like about her...your wife? What
was she like?”

Tyler turned to me again, that furrow settling in a
touch before he turned back to the road.

“Well, Jillian was…beautiful. Joyful and kind.
Impulsive. And rather restless at times, I’m afraid.” He sighed as
his shoulders relaxed. “She had such a fiery spirit, untamed.
Opinionated, you might say, a bit of a hot-head. I suppose it got
the best of her in the end.” Then all of a sudden, he looked sad,
wistful, and full of self-reproach.

“How so?” I asked though I was concerned about the
melancholy turn in his mood.

Another heavy sigh, like the weight of his loss
pushed the breath from his body.

“Knowing her as well as I did, I should have
realized she wouldn’t have been able to just let it go.” He shook
his head at the memories.

I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. I didn’t
know the whole story behind his wife’s death, and frankly, I was
afraid to ask.

“I should have protected her better,” he continued.
“She went to Nick when I refused to intervene with the authorities,
but I warned him off. So she tried to take care of it on her
own...and it cost Jillian her life.” He stole a quick glance at me
again. “She paid for
my
failure,
my
mistake. That
seems to be a pattern with me these days. A fact you know better
than anyone, I suppose.” His lips pressed together.

“Yeah, well…hindsight can be a real bitch,” I
mumbled. I was beginning to regret my line of questioning. I felt
as if I had intruded on something personal, something that was
really none of my business, though I suppose he had made it so when
he kicked in my door.

“You’d think I’d learn,” he whispered before falling
silent again.

I felt bad that I had made him recall such unhappy
memories. “Hey, I’m sorry. I never should have brought that
up.”

He kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white as
he grasped the wheel. “No, it’s all right. You have every right to
ask.”

Silence settled over us again, more uncomfortable
than ever. I turned away and nibbled on my fingernails, tearing the
cuticles and making them bleed. One-by-one, I stuck them in my
mouth to alleviate the self-inflicted pain. It was a good ten
minutes before Tyler alerted me to a small strip mall just off the
freeway.

“I’m going to pull up to that bank. We need money
for gas and food.” He threw me a nervous glance. “We’ll need to pay
for a place to crash tonight, as well.”

I hadn’t thought about where we would sleep for the
night. All my muscles went rigid, and I stiffened in my seat. A
quiver pulsed through my stomach when I considered whatever
arrangements he might provide. I hadn’t considered many things
before I allowed him to take me away. The gravity of my situation
was weighing more heavily by the minute, and panic began to
overwhelm me.

He parked the car and pulled up on the brake,
turning the key until the engine stopped. I heard his voice as if
from a distance, but my own felt choked off.

“Hannah?”

I couldn’t make myself get out of the car. I just
sat there as I moved closer to a full-blown panic attack. My
heartbeat was loud in my ears, and the flutter in my stomach felt
more like a bird than a butterfly. My door opened suddenly from the
outside. Tyler reached in and disengaged my seatbelt. I gasped and
strained against him when he took hold of my arm and pulled me from
the car.

“Come on, settle down. I need you to withdraw some
cash. Grab your bag,” he ordered then reached past me and snatched
my purse as I remained frozen. “Let’s go, Hannah. Please don’t make
a scene. We don’t need the attention.”

He shoved my purse into my hands and guided me up to
the ATM. I glanced up at him as I fumbled for my wallet, dropping
it and my bank card to the ground. He reached down and retrieved
everything then maneuvered me in front of the machine. He stood
beside me with his hand at my elbow as I worked the keypad. My
hands shook with anxiety, and I made several mistakes. Each time, I
had to start over. And each time, Tyler sighed in impatience. I
gave him the cash and waited for his orders. He directed me back to
the car, opened the door, and nudged me back inside with an
exasperated huff.

We drove down the street to the first gas station we
saw. Tyler walked around to my side of the car, kneeling next to me
in the open door. By his tone, I could tell he was more than a
little annoyed at me.