Rules of Survival (Entangled Embrace) (10 page)

I’d never even thought about that. “Shit.”

Shaun crossed the room and peered around the corner, inadvertently dragging me along. “Without anything more than a first letter, we have no way to search. We don’t even know if T is a he”—he whirled around, face inches from mine, and froze—“or she,” he finished slowly, backing away.

I swallowed and backed off as well. “The second partner could be a woman…” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it felt right.

Holding a finger up, he listened for a moment, then made a beeline for the phone.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Calling Pat.”

“
Now?
”

“There’s a phone. We have a minute to kill while we wait for the old man. Why not? I bet he knows who Mick is—and this T person.”

I pressed up close and listened as the phone rang. Once. Twice. On the third ring, Patrick answered. “Yeah?”

“It’s me.”

“Shaun? What the hell is going on? Where—”

“No time. We got to the mall and there were
cops
waiting for us.” There was an accusatory edge to his voice. “Like they knew we were coming.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a curse. “Don’t let her do this, kid. She’ll have you convinced I killed Lincoln if you let her.”

“She does think you called them,” Shaun said, glaring at me. “But
I
don’t. Still, something’s not right about this one, Pat. We don’t think they were real cops, either. Did you find out anything about this Jaffe guy? What’s his interest in her?”

“He says he’s family. An uncle on her mother’s side.”

“He’s lying,” I said, not bothering to keep my voice down. I didn’t care if Patrick knew I was listening.

Patrick sighed. “I
know
he’s lying.”

“You do?” both Shaun and I said in unison.

“Mel had no family. It was just her and the kid.”

“How do you—”

Shaun balanced the receiver between his head and shoulder, and covered my mouth. “We don’t have a lot of time, Pat. Does the name Mick mean anything to you?”

There was another pause. “Mick? Where did you hear that name?”

“You know who he is, don’t you?” I wrestled the receiver away from Shaun. “We think he was one of Mom’s partners. Him—and someone whose name begins with the letter T. We need to know what you know, Patrick. Was he the one who killed her?”

“Mick is—”

And the line went dead.

Chapter Eleven

I stared at Shaun, horrified. “You just hung up on him! Why would you—”

He clamped his free hand over my mouth again. “Kayla, we need to leave.”

I lifted my left hand and shook it, rattling the chain. “Are you ins—”

He jerked his right arm, pulling the chain taut. “Forget about the cuffs. This guy’s been gone too long. Something’s not right.”

Holy shit. I was an idiot. Shaun was right. How long did it take to grab a saw and come back? “Let’s get out of here.”

Shaun nodded and we rounded the corner and cut through the kitchen. The back door was a few feet ahead. When I took a closer look around, I realized how run-down everything was. The floor was peeling up in the kitchen, and when I peered out the window, I noticed the roof on the barn had caved in on one side, not to mention that there were no cows in sight.

“Pat knows who Mick is. I’m betting he knows T, too,” Shaun whispered, reaching for the door.

“And he was about to tell us—but you hung up on him.” I cried, and checked behind us. Still no sign of Gerald. We were in the clear.

Shaun shrugged. “You
sure
you don’t remember seeing anything else in that letter? Something you’re
conveniently
forgetting to tell me about?”

I shook my head, glaring at him pointedly. “Someone interrupted me while I was reading it, then people started shooting at me. I only got a chance to skim it. I promise. I’ve told you everything now. There was a bit about a murder, the two names—one I didn’t see—and that someone betrayed her. And then the bit about the information she wanted me to find…”

Shaun eased open the door. We took a step outside, then froze. Gerald appeared in front of us, blocking our path with a gun in his hands. “I’m sorry, girlie. You have to know that. I had no choice and I’m sorry.”

I looked from the gun to Shaun, who was as pale as paper. He backed up a step, gaze trained on Gerald, and pushed me behind him as if to protect me.

A wash of cold rushed through me and settled in the pit of my stomach. All of a sudden it was nearly impossible to breathe. “What did you do?”

“I’m losing my farm. It’s falling apart and I’ve got no way to earn the money to fix it. This place is my life… The price on you is more than enough to set things right again.” He lifted the gun and aimed it at us, taking a step forward. “Ya gotta know I feel awful about it. Your mamma really was a good egg, but like I said, I ain’t got no choice.”

“No choice?” I whispered. This wasn’t happening. How could I have made such a big mistake? “That’s bullshit…”

“Who?” Shaun growled. “Someone’s paying you to hand her off, right? You sick fuck, who is it?”

Gerald laughed. “
I’m
a sick fuck? Aren’t you trying to do the same thing?”

Shaun’s expression darkened. He glared at Gerald, but said nothing.

“That’s right, boy,” Gerald said, holding the gun steady. “I know who you are and why you’re with her. You’re just mad I bested you. I beat you to the prize.”

“Who?” I demanded, trying hard to ignore the truth in Gerald’s words. “Who is paying you the money?”

Gerald didn’t flinch. He just stood there watching me, gun drawn and silent.

“Answer me,” I screamed. A part of my brain knew we should try to run, but I couldn’t make my feet move. I needed to know. Was it Jaffe? Mick or T? Or was it an entirely new player? “Who was it? Who paid you to kill me?”

“Kill you? I ain’t gonna hurt you so long as you don’t move,” Gerald wheezed defensively.

“No? What do you think they’re going to do to me when they get here, Gerald? Buy me dinner?” I stepped around Shaun and grabbed the barrel of his gun, jamming it over my heart. I felt the cold steel of the barrel through the thin material of my T-shirt. “Let us go or pull the trigger!”

He stared, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “I didn’t—”

Shaun tensed and shot me a sidelong glance. His gaze alternated between Gerald and the gun still braced against my chest. “Who paid you?”

The old man sighed. His aim didn’t waver, but he said, “Jaffe.”

At least that ruled out Mick and T. “Who is he?
Who
is Jaffe?”

“If what you say is true and he plans to kill you, what’s it matter?” the old man said. He flicked off the safety and bobbed the gun. “Back in the house. They’ll be here soon.”

I took a step backward, over the threshold of the house, but Shaun didn’t move.

Gerald jabbed the barrel of the gun at him. “Git movin’, boy. Ain’t gonna ask again.”

“If I don’t?” Shaun asked, voice low. He had that look in his eyes. The same one I’d seen at the junkyard. “See, I don’t think you have the balls to pull the trigger, Gerald.”

The old man’s lips twisted into a cruel grin. He lifted the weapon higher, in line with Shaun’s head, and said, “She’s the one with the pretty penny on her head. Makes no difference to me if you’re around when they get here.”

Shaun’s jaw clenched, and he balled his fists tight. He turned to me, slowly, and said, “I meant what I said. I keep my promises.”

It all happened so fast. His arm came up, the one I was shackled to, and knocked the barrel of the gun to the left. There was a loud boom, and everything went into overdrive. Shaun yelled. A collection of sounds with no real distinction, because all of a sudden everything sounded strange. Hollow and watery.

He dove at Gerald as he raised the gun again, ramming the older man with his left shoulder. I was dragged by default, the three of us going down hard in the mud. I stumbled, slipping when I tried to stand. I almost made it, but Shaun inadvertently dragged me sideways, then down again.

He punched Gerald in the gut as the older man got to his feet, then kicked him as he bent to retrieve the gun. They were both yelling, their lips moving furiously, but I still couldn’t hear anything other than a horrific ringing in my ears.

“Shaun,” I screamed. I had no idea if he could hear me.

His head whipped around, and his eyes widened like he’d forgotten I was there. Gerald used the distraction to his advantage. Grabbing the gun, he squeezed off another round. Unfortunately this one didn’t miss.

Shaun’s mouth opened in a silent scream. He grabbed his arm and went down hard on one knee. Gerald, pleased with himself, let the gun fall slack and laughed. I saw his shoulders shaking, but there was no sound.

I took a chance. One good kick and the thing went flying from his hand. I didn’t wait around to see what he did next. I helped Shaun off the ground and we raced for the fence.

Past the barn and around an old rusted tractor, we ran across the open grass behind the house. My lungs were ready to burst, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t. Jaffe’s men had a head start on us. If Gerald had called them when he first left to find the saw, they could easily be here any minute.

I slid to a stop in the dirt in front of a wire fence and glanced over my shoulder. No sign of Gerald or anyone else. Pulling up on the middle wire, I slipped my right leg through, then followed with the left, taking care not to get my hair caught in the barbs. Once on the other side, I stepped on the bottom wire and pulled the middle section higher to make room for Shaun. He ducked through with care, favoring his left arm, and I tried not to worry. God. There was so much blood.

We kept going, deep into the woods that bordered Gerald’s property. When we’d put enough distance between us that I could look back and hardly see the house, I slowed a little to assess the damage. Shaun’s movements were becoming sluggish and I didn’t know how much longer he could stay upright. Since there was no way I could carry him, we needed to know how bad it actually was.

“That’s a lot of blood,” I said, catching my breath.

Shaun leaned against the nearest pine tree, then slid down the trunk to the ground. I went with him.

He hadn’t said anything and it was making me nervous. “Shaun,” I said. “Talk to me. How bad is it?”

He raised his arm and winced. “It looks worse than it is, I think. Bullet went straight through.”

I wasn’t convinced, but there wasn’t much I could do right here. I grabbed the hoodie and hooked the edge of my nail into the thread at the seam. Picking at it. Once I got it started, with a little effort, I was able to rip off the sleeve. “Let’s tie it off and get moving. Can’t stay still too long.”

He helped me wrap the material around his upper arm, cringing only a little when I knotted it tight.

I pulled him up and we took two steps, before he stopped, cursing softly under his breath. “This isn’t happening. You’ll never get away—I’m too slow. I need to—”

I slapped him hard across the cheek. Drastic, but the situation required focus. I couldn’t have him giving up. That was against the rules, and the rules were all I had now. “Shut up and move.
Now!
”

We continued through the woods, dodging gopher holes and rocks, and moving steadily toward the faint sound of gurgling water. Shaun was right, though. He was slowing us down. We needed to find shelter, because we weren’t going to outrun them. Not like this.

Through another wire fence at the edge of the property, and across a small wooden bridge, as we came to the water’s edge, Shaun tripped and went down hard, jarring my left arm backward and dragging me down with him into the mud. Water splashed in every direction as he struggled unsteadily back to his feet, trying to pull me upright as well.

“Go! Keep going,” he huffed. There were other people in the woods behind us. Every few minutes I’d hear faint noises. Voices. The sound of brush crunching beneath someone’s feet.

Numb from the cold, I hesitated only a moment before I steered him to the left and crossed the stream, icy water seeping through my sneakers and socks, and bolted into the dense forest. Under the added cover of trees, the midday sun was blotted out, and for a few moments it was like we’d stepped into a refrigerator.

After another quick look over my shoulder, I slowed to a walk and turned to Shaun. He was so damn pale. I’d practically been dragging him for the last few minutes. He was much bigger—therefore heavier—and my wrist felt like it was about to fall off. “How ya doing?”

He slumped against the nearest tree, rested his head, and took a deep breath. “Bleeding isn’t stopping. We need to find someplace to hide.” Shivering, he pushed off the tree and took several small steps to the right as he stuffed a hand into his back pocket. There was a building in the distance, but I didn’t think we’d make it in time. “We need to get these—”

He wobbled, and because I was sure he was about to go down, I took a step closer. Just one. A
single
step. And then we were falling.

Everything was gone. Shaun. The trees. The ground beneath my feet… There were several moments of nothingness. No air, no sound, no sky. Then, the total absence of light and a heavy weight pressed down on me, as well as a dull ache all over. The plaguing cold that had previously gnawed away at my insides and sent persistent chills up and down my arms didn’t matter anymore.

I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. I couldn’t move anything, actually. We’d fallen. That much I knew. But into what? And why couldn’t I move? Had I broken a bone? Several, maybe? The thought stole my breath away. Being physically hindered in any way made me numb. And what about Shaun? I sucked in as much air as I could manage. “Shaun?”

There was no answer.

The only thing I heard was the pounding of my own heart and the blood rushing furiously between my ears. I couldn’t
see
anything, either. It was pitch black and I had no idea where I was. Maybe Shaun wasn’t even with me. Maybe the shackles had broken and we’d been separated. That actually scared me worse than him being hurt. If he hadn’t fallen, then he was still out there. Hurt and helpless.

No
.

I’d spent a significant amount of time with him now. Even wounded, he wasn’t helpless.

“Shaun?” I tried again, voice weaker. Weaker, but more panicked. Still, there was no answer.

For a long time I simply stayed there. Silent and still and terrified by the scenarios rampaging through my mind. I didn’t know exactly how I felt about Shaun, but I knew I didn’t want to see him hurt. More than that, though, I didn’t want to be alone again. If we had, in fact, been separated, would he leave me?

I’d been watching my own back ever since Mom died. I was lonely and I was scared, and I just didn’t want to do it anymore. Tired. I was tired. What I’d told Shaun was the truth. I was done running. When I’d gone back to that cabin, I was looking for more than whatever Mom left for me. I was looking for a path to normal. Being chained to Shaun and running for our lives might not be exactly what I had in mind, but it was closer than I’d ever come. I didn’t want to lose it. Not yet.

So I lay there, frozen by my fears. It was a direct disregard for one of Mom’s rules. Several of them, actually. And in the end, that’s what finally motivated me. Knowing she’d be disappointed helped me gain focus. It gave me the incentive to work my free hand out from whatever had me pinned, and feel around to get my bearings, even though I was terrified of what I might find.

The ground was loose dirt—dry—and the thing preventing me from moving—from almost breathing—was covered in rough material. My hand roamed along its surface, from side to side and then down the length of it until I came upon a warm, soft surface. Skin.

My heart fluttered. “Jesus… Shaun?”

There was no response.

Taking care, I pushed up with my free hand and at the same time, lifted my knees. After several tries, I managed to ease him to the side. The relief was instant. Oxygen came rushing back and the smothered sensation vanished as I greedily refilled my lungs with musty air.

“Shaun?” I tried again. Panic set in. With my arm now free, I tugged lightly on the chain to test the restraints. The shackles were still securely in place. Pressing down with the palm of my left hand, I ran it along his body, searching for his neck. An involuntary giggle slipped past my lips. If he were awake, he’d accuse me of trying to grope him.

Cold, wet material gave way to smooth warmth. I found his neck and fumbled until I felt a pulse. It was there—and it was strong. The relief that washed over me was intense. It left me shaking—but not from the cold.