Dangerous Flirt (21 page)

While he tried to process the unexpected turn, Beth got dressed. She picked up her purse from the nightstand and turned toward the door.

He snapped out of his daze and chased after her. Gathering her in his arms,
he buried his face in her silky hair. “Don’t go. It doesn’t matter. We don’t have to have kids or we can adopt or it can just be us. You
are
meant to have a family. Let me be your family. I love you, Beth.”

She turned in his arms, brushing his cheek with her lips. “I love you too, which is why I can’t do this. Goodbye, Hank.”

His first instinct was to chase, but he’d been doing that for so long
now without accomplishing anything but spooking Beth and pressuring her to run.

Paralyzed by hurt, he stood naked next to the bed in which they’d made love and watched her walk out the door.

B
eth cursed her luck.

The flight from Vegas had been fine, but now the turbo jet between Denver and Dry Creek had been grounded with equipment problems. The flight had been canceled. The five-hour drive to Dry Creek would be tedious, but it was better than feeling vulnerable in a strange city. Contemplating the line of fifty people ahead of her at the car rental desk, she
wondered if she should just admit defeat, get a hotel room, and rest her throbbing arm.

The crowd emitted a loud groan. A harried clerk slapped down a sign.
No cars available
. In front of her, the line dispersed as people scattered like rats on a sinking ship to other rental car counters where the lines were already dozens of people deep.

She'd give up coffee for a year to have a car right now.

“Need a ride?” Hank jangled a set of rental keys in front of her nose. An easy smile curled his lips, but a sliver of uncertainty shined in his gaze.

Her hard-fought-for composure crumbled in the middle of the airport. With people swarming around them, hurrying from one concourse to another, she stopped trying to move forward and acknowledged the here and now. Here stood the man she loved. Strong.
Loyal. Smart. Hot as hell. If she couldn’t let go enough to take a chance on him, she was twelve kinds of a fool.

Hank wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her crying form in his warm embrace. “Did you know that I’m going to be the best uncle in the world someday?”

The soft cotton of his Nebraska football polo muffled her chuckle. “Oh, Hank.”

“I mean it, Beth. I don’t care about some kids
we may or may not ever have. I care about you.”

“But—”

“We’ll take it slow. We don’t have to decide everything right away. Trust me.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “Trust yourself.”

Looking up into those Layton family hazel eyes, she wanted to say yes but fear had taken up too much room inside her for so long.
You’re a real coward, Beth Martinez
. “Hank…”

“I believe in you, Beth. I believe
in us. Look, you don’t have to say anything this moment, just kiss me.”

And she did, with every bit of yes she had in her but couldn’t say out loud.

Four and a half hours later, they crossed the Dry Creek County line. The Bighorn Hills loomed up ahead, outlined by the full moon's white light. Named after the bighorn sheep that climbed them, the rounded slopes rose hundreds of feet above the
prairie. Dotted with ponderosa pine, prairie grass, jutting outcrops of rocks and scattered patches of sagebrush, the hills seemed spectral set against the bright stars lighting up the night sky.

To tired drivers numbed by the flat monotony of Interstate 80, the Bighorn Hills appeared like mountains in comparison to the never-ending horizontal scenery of the Nebraska plain. For Beth, the sight
meant home. And heartbreak.

The memories came unbidden.

The screeching of brakes.

The stench of burning rubber.

Her parents tumbling around the front seat like socks in the dryer.

EMTs pulling her from the wreckage.

“What the hell?” Hank's annoyed tone pulled her back into the present. “That moron is flying.”

Beth whipped around in her seat to look out the back window of the tiny subcompact
rental car. A truck's high-set headlights zoomed toward them. As it got closer, the driver flashed his high beams, momentarily blinding Beth.

After a few blinks, her sight returned, obscured only by hazy halos that glowed in the middle distance. Her heart rate jacked up as panic buzzed through her body.

Automatically, she tested the seat belt to double-check it was fastened. Her fingers shook
as she pulled against Hank's seat belt, making sure he was safe.

Lungs aching with the pressure of holding her breath, she forced herself to inhale and willed herself to think logically. She wasn't eight. She wasn't trapped in the backseat. It wasn't a drunk driver, just someone in a big hurry.

“Slow down and let them pass,” she urged. “Maybe it's an emergency.”

A vein pulsed in Hank's temple
but he didn't say a thing as he eased his foot off the gas pedal.

The truck continued its swift approach, maneuvering at the last moment into the oncoming lane to pass. It pulled alongside, towering over the subcompact.

Nerves taunt, Beth glanced past Hank out the driver's-side window.

Sarah Jane Hunihan sat behind the truck’s wheel, her white skin glowing in the moonlight.

Beth couldn't look
away as terror spun out of control, hurtling her into a full-on panic.

“Hank!”

Hank forced himself into cop mode, ignoring the instinct to comfort Beth. The truck slammed into the subcompact's driver's side, jostling him in his seat. He punched the gas, shooting the car forward. “Hold on.”

The little car gave its all and left the four-by-four
in the dust, at least for a moment. The truck swerved behind him, staying on the rental car's tail.

Tires squealed as he sped along the curving road around the bend. The lights of Dry Creek twinkled in the valley below, the deceptive view promising a quick arrival even though they were half an hour out.

It wasn't enough.

Sarah Jane rammed the back of the car, making his head snap forward.

Grasping the steering wheel tighter, he fought to regain control of the car fishtailing on the highway. They had to get away from the truck.

The pitiful rental car engine couldn't outpace a pregnant turtle. He needed to find a side road.

Keeping his gaze locked on the twisting road ahead of them, he pictured a map of Big Horn Hills. There were access roads to the state park dotting the highway,
but they weren't well marked. If you didn't know where they were, you'd shoot right past them.

Especially at night.

The truck slammed into the car again, pushing it forward.

“Are we near any of the park access roads?” Tearing his gaze away from the scenery flying past them, Hank glanced at Beth from the corner of his eye.

She sat frozen beside him. Stark terror glistened in her wide-open brown
eyes. Her skin had turned ashen.

Gamely, she tried to make eye contact but her gaze skittered back to the headlights glaring at them from the rearview mirror. “Tell me it won't happen again,” she demanded in a quiet monotone.

Fuck. Her parents had died on this road, pushed into a ravine by a drunk driver. “Hell no, it won't happen again.”

As if to say “oh yeah”, the truck slammed into the car
once again. The car careened to the left.

He jerked the steering wheel, tires spinning out on the pebbled surface of the highway shoulder. His arms burned from the effort of keeping the rental car tires on the paved highway.

Just as he braced himself for the impact of going off-road, the tires gripped the road and they rushed to the other side.

Yanking the wheel the other way, he fought to
keep the car from running off the side of the road.

As the car settled into the right lane, Hank gunned the engine, willing the four-cylinder to run like an eight-cylinder sports car. His gut twisted when the truck appeared once again in his periphery vision. “Beth, you have to concentrate.” He fought to keep from yelling and spooking her further. “Is there a park access road nearby?”

The screeching
of twisting metal screamed through the night as the truck plowed into them. It took all the power Hank had to keep the little subcompact on the road. “Beth!”

“Yes,” she hollered. “Another mile up the road on the left. There's an unmarked ATV path, it's narrow but the car should fit.”

“Okay. Keep your eyes peeled and tell me when to turn.”

The truck veered into the compact car again. His whole
body ached with the effort not to be overwhelmed by the truck's superior force as they barreled side-by-side on the twisting highway.

“Now!”

Jamming his foot onto the brake, his body slammed forward.

The truck passed them.

Revving the tired engine, he steered the car onto the ATV road so narrow, the car barely fit. Bouncing on the deep ruts in the dirt path, there was little Hank could do
to avoid the gullies in the road that sent the rental car bounding up into the air.

Pine trees stood guard on both sides, forcing him to stay in the dead center of the road. Still, the pine branches scraped the sides of the car like nails on a chalkboard.

Hank glanced up at the rearview mirror, checking for the truck's headlights. When he returned his gaze to the road, a felled tree lay in the
car's crosshairs. His heart threatened to explode in his chest.

Hank smashed down the brakes, a giant cloud of dirt exploding around them. As soon as he came to a stop, he cut the engine and headlights.

Breath shallow, he whipped around to look out the back window as his pulse slowed to a less death-defying speed. Sitting in the dark, silent car, he watched for the truck.

After ten minutes
of expecting the worst, he turned to face Beth.

“That was close,” she deadpanned in the dark.

His girl was back. Her wry tone made him smile. “Yeah, that's putting it mildly.”

“Let's get the hell out of here before she finds us.”

“Good plan. Call dispatch and let them know what happened.” He flicked the key and the engine sputtered to life. The car chugged into reverse for half a foot before
the tires spun, useless in the deep ruts caused by the ATVs that normally owned this access road. “Shit.”

“What?” The ringing of her call going through to the sheriff's office blared from her cellphone.

“We're stuck.”

“Isn't that—” The dispatcher's voice on the line cut off whatever Beth was about to say.

Beth handed over the phone to Hank, who gave dispatch a quick rundown of Sarah Jane,
the attack and their location before snapping the phone shut.

“Okay, we can't stay in the car and be sitting ducks for Sarah Jane. We're going to get close to the road, but stay inside the tree line. Deputies are on their way, but we can't give our location away.” He paused, taking in the panicky twitch in her left eye. “You with me? We're going to be alright.”

She nodded. “Let's do it.”

Even
freaked out of her mind, she held her own. If it took the next six decades, he'd make her understand just how much he loved her. Kids or no kids, he didn’t give a damn. “Stick close.”

They eased out of the car, leaving the doors open to avoid unnecessary noise. Around them the normal night sounds of coyote howls and scurrying nocturnal creatures covered their footsteps. The moonlight filtered
through the tree branches, allowing only enough light to see a few feet in front as they made their way through to the road.

Beth stayed close behind him, mimicking his moves and stepping where he did. Swift, but careful, they made their way up a gentle slope.

Straining his ears, he tried to pick out the sound of human footsteps among the rustle of dried leaves. Nothing.

Almost there. The tense
muscles in his shoulders unwound.

He could just make out the shiny pebbles on the highway's shoulder when the unmistakable sense of impending danger sent goose bumps marching down his arms.

The Bighorn Hills turned silent, not even a breeze blew.

Halting, he grabbed Beth's arm, pulling her close as he scanned the area. Shadows hid reality. Was that a tree branch or an attacker's arm? Was that
the crunch of leaves crushed under a coyote's paw or Sarah Jane's foot? Damn, he wished he had his gun.

After a minute of staring into nothingness, without another sign of an imminent attack, he took a cautious step forward.

So focused on looking out for Sarah Jane, he never noticed the snake hole until it was too late.

His ankle twisted and he tumbled to the ground, pulling Beth down with
him. Burning pain shot up his leg and he barely managed to swallow a groan of agony so as to not alert their stalker.

He needn't have worried.

The unmistakable click of a gun being cocked echoed through the brush.

Like a ghost appearing, Sarah Jane stepped out of the shadows, pointing a silver handgun at them. “It’s time for you to pay.”

E
ven with her nose buried in the dank dirt and Hank half covering her with his bulk, Beth knew that voice. She'd never heard it raised in anger or whiny with frustration. Not like now, when a tinge of crazy had sharpened the consonants and emphasized the nasal Midwestern twang.