Heartwood (32 page)

“So how do we deal with him when we find him?” This question came from Seth, who had come up as the doctor was talking.

“In his current state of mind? He’s capable of anything. He should be treated as very, very dangerous.”

“Fast and quick then.” Seth nodded. “If we can, take him out. We will take a sniper shot with a clear back range for the bullet. Otherwise, close combat and subduing.”

The no nonsense way he said it should have been comforting. Instead, it made me want to take his head off. My heart was pounding in my ears and I was close to my breaking point. Walking away was my only option. I tried to calm down but nothing I did was helping. I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin. I needed to take action...I needed to find Molly.

The computer screen next to me beeped and a list of names appeared. The program they had been running to decrypt the bank information had completed. On the screen were seven names. The third down the list caught my eye.

Dashul Shields.

One of the stories Molly had told me about Draven came screaming out of the back of my mind. It was a conversation we’d had the first time we went out for dinner somewhere that required a reservation.

“Name?” The hostess asked. I’d been admiring Molly’s dress and how it exposed her bare shoulders. She’d elbowed me, and nodded to the hostess.

“Oh. Sorry. Jensen. And we’d like to sit outside if you have a spot.”

Molly giggled. Since my name didn’t strike me as unusually funny, I asked her what she was laughing about.

“I just love that you’re so down to earth, Joe.” She’d looked a little shy, and busied herself with her purse.

“Okay...” More confused than ever, I turned my attention full on her captivating wide-set eyes. “What brought that to mind?”

“You’re not showy. You don’t
try
to be impressive, you just
are
.” Her eyes lingered on mine, but she clammed up when the hostess came back to seat us. Once seated at our table, she went on. “My ex used to make a production about everything. Especially when we went out. One time, he punched a valet in the nose. Just for taking my hand to help me out of the car.”

“Really?” I crinkled my forehead in disbelief. Violence and I weren’t exactly strangers, but even to me that seemed a bit over the top.

“He was such an ass,” Her beautiful voice replayed in my head like a favorite tune committed to memory. “Dan and I used to laugh about how pompous he was. He refused to make reservations under his own name. He thought he was that big of a deal on the Seattle culinary scene. All because someone recognized me once and sent a bottle of wine over to our table, compliments of the house. Draven seemed proud of me at first, but after that he always used an alias. Like people were going to hound us as if we were celebrities and we’d have no privacy.”

“Wow.” I remember thinking at the time that Molly deserved the recognition. I’d had a hard to imagining her with someone besides me, and I had yet to meet Draven, or hear about his abusive ways from Robin.

“It was ludicrous. Like anyone cared. If you’re not on a cooking show, no one gives a crap. It’s not exactly a glamorous life. But Draven always had his own little version of reality.” I remember the way her eyes clouded over after that remark, and her face transformed to one of intense distaste.

“Even his alias was douchey.” She seemed to force a smile, as if she was trying to lighten the mood. “Dashul Shields. It sounded like a villain from a James Bond film.”

The world seemed to stop turning, and I felt a surge of energy radiate through me. We’d found him. The arrogant ass just couldn’t help himself. I was doubt free. Who the hell would name their kid Dashul?

Taking less than three seconds to think, I grabbed at the nearest rack and then ran out the door. I heard Dr. Greene shout after me, but I ignored him. Jumping behind the wheel I managed to keep it under the speed limit and avoid causing any major accidents. Once I turned off onto Hwy 969, I put my foot on the floor and raced toward my goal.

“Hang on, Baby Girl. I’m coming for you.”

THINK, MOLLY.

Think.

My option were pretty limited when I considered the facts. One thing was perfectly clear. Draven was certifiable.

There was no talking my way out of this. I would not let him have me. I was not going anywhere with him. He would not take my son.

I had to fight.

The next time he walked into the room, one of us wasn’t coming out. He was a lot bigger than me...but I was Molly Fucking Jensen, and I knew how to hurt someone if I had to.

Logan’s safety troubled me, but not as much as the thought of Draven raising him. Imagining my baby being in the demented clutches of that violent asshole...no way that was happening.

We weren’t getting on a fucking plane with this monster. We’d have been better off if I’d fought him the moment I saw him in my kitchen...even if he’d killed us both.

That thought made me furious at myself, but it was true. I was done with being cowardly, and the time for feeling sorry for myself was over.

I crawled to the bedside, desperate for some eureka moment to happen to me. I needed ideas.

That’s when I started to pray.

It felt ridiculous. I felt like a hypocrite. But the level of my desperation was so beyond anything I’d experienced that I reverted back to my childhood Sunday school ways. I was praying before I realized I was doing it, and though I usually thought it was superstitious mumbo jumbo, my heart was 100% behind every frantic word.

Dear God, please help me. If not for my heathen ass, at least for my baby boy.

Keep Logan safe.

Please, Lord. I need ideas. I promise to do better. I promise not to be such a fuck up if you just help me out here.

If you’re listening up there, give me time to figure out how to get out of here.

I gave it my all...on my knees beside the bed, my hands clasped in front of me. My head ached, my face hurt, and I just wanted to lay down and sleep. But I didn’t. I couldn’t afford to.

As I bent my face toward my clasped hands, I bumped my eye against my knuckles and winced. I gently touched my eyelid, and could feel that it was swelling shut. It didn’t matter much. Since he’d hit me, I’d been seeing floaters and shadows...so it wasn’t much use to me anyway.

I slumped down suddenly, knowing this was my darkest hour. The single bare light bulb overhead cast shadows around the room, and I squinted to test my vision in my unmolested eye. That’s when I noticed the loose leg.

The heavy legs of the bed frame were connected by large, clunky screws. It was no wonder the bed creaked like it did when Draven was all over me in it. One of the legs hadn’t been attached correctly. Drae was a lot of things, but he was not mechanically inclined. If he wanted something done, he paid someone else to do the manual labor.

Even I could see that the screw had been misaligned. Knowing Draven, he’d given up 3/4 of the way into screwing it in. I reached out and tried to twist it with my hand, but it was no good. My knuckles were still swollen and weak. I was close to dissolving into hopeless tears, when I heard my Daddy’s favorite saying in my head. It was so clear in my mind, it was as if he was there whispering it to me.

“God helps those who help themselves, Mollybelle.”

I set my jaw, determined to find a solution. I needed a tool of some sort, like a butter knife, or something that fit the notch well enough to get the leverage to make it turn.

I crawled around the floor looking for a nail or anything that might work to fit into the groove. Finding nothing, I returned to the bed, ready to use my teeth on the screw. As my hand came to rest on the bed frame, the dim light twinkled off the prong holding the black diamond of my engagement ring. I froze, fixated on the ring...not the engagement ring, but the narrow wedding band next to it.

When we’d discussed wedding rings Joe had insisted on having them made out of an unusual metal. Remembering the conversation, had me on the verge of tears again. Naturally, that conversation had taken place where some of our best did these days. In bed.

“Titanium, babe.” His cocky expression somehow came off as cute, though I wanted to pummel him for his stubborn stance.

“I think we can spring for bands made out of gold.” I chided him. “We aren’t exactly hurting for money right now.”

Wrapping his arm around my waist he pulled me close. Entwining his fingers with the fingers of my right hand, he pulled it up in front of his face.

“We both work with our hands.” He kissed my hand delicately, and I blinked at him blankly resisting the urge to ‘duh’ him. “Titanium will hold up better. Gold and silver scratch and ding really easily. Titanium is the heartwood of metals.”

“What does the mean?” I narrowed my eyes in genuine confusion. He’d named his upcoming charity event Heartwood, but I thought it was just a pretty title. I didn’t realize it was an actual term and it had me curious.

“When I’m working on something very intricate that has fine detail, I always use heartwood. It’s from the oldest, strongest part of the tree. It’s what adds stability to the trunk so that the tree can continue to stand as it grows and branches out. The stronger the heartwood, the taller and bigger the tree can grow.” His voice was soft, and as was always the case when he spoke about his work, there was an undertone of excitement. He never made me feel stupid for not understanding every facet of his job like Draven did. I knew I wasn’t the only one who noticed this about him. Nick and I had discussed Joe’s patient nature, and Nick said it was one of the traits that made him a great master carpenter to apprentice with.

The excited look in his eyes was enough to overcome my objections.

“You’re the boss.” I drawled wryly with a shrug.

“Well, I’m the boy and you’re the girl, so...” I huffed and slapped his arm playfully. With a hearty chuckle, he wrestled his way on top of me. Soon we were rolling around and kissing. I snuggled happily against him, breathing in his scent.

“Joe?” I murmured.

“Yeah, baby?” His response was soft, as he ran his fingers up my spine.

“You’re my heartwood.” It was meant to be a joke, but I felt the sarcastic smile melt off my face when I glanced up and saw the fierce, complex look in his eyes. It was gone in a flash, and a sexy half-smile appeared on his lips.