Rules of Survival(20)

I hadn’t seen the signs before it all went down, but she’d known danger was at the door. It was the only reason we would have gone to the cabin in the first place. It was our haven. That last resort when things got too hot.

She’d said she left something for me. That there was something she needed me to do. It was all I’d thought about since that night. Her killer. I’d always been sure that’s what I’d find. A clue to the truth she wanted exposed. Over time, though, it became more than that. It became about survival.

She’d told me not to trust anyone, but right now I didn’t have much of a choice. I was tired and broken, and Shaun was all I had.

We reached the edge of the parking garage and he froze.

Acid bubbled in the pit of my stomach, and a chill that had nothing to do with the harsh October wind sent tingles up and down my spine. The sun had ducked behind the clouds, so it was harder to see, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “What?”

Hand snaking out lightning-fast, he yanked the scrunchie from my hair. “Hide your face and turn sideways.”

I did as I was told, shaking out my hair and angling my body away from the garage. Something spooked him, and even though I couldn’t see what it was, the tone of his voice put me on alert. “What did you see?”

He shifted, wrapping his free hand around my waist to pull me close. To anyone unknowing, we would just be two lovers out for a stroll. “Look over by the main gate. The guy standing there.”

Casually, I tilted my head to the side and peeked through the curtain of my hair. A tall man with a nub of a ponytail stood leaning against the gate. Cigarette in his mouth and cell phone at his ear, he glanced our way with a slight nod and went back to his conversation.

“Um, what about him?”

“He looks—suspicious.”

I blinked. My paranoia must have been contagious. I stepped forward, squinting against the fading light. The man hadn’t given us so much as a second glance. “Seriously?”

Shaun’s grip on my waist tightened, and with a sudden outbreak of goose bumps, it occurred to me at that very inappropriate moment that this was as close to a guy as I’d ever been.

“Just wait,” he whispered, breath warm against my neck. I fought back a shiver.

At the far corner of the lot, a couple came around the bend. Lost in conversation, they glanced our way with a quick smile, then settled on a bench directly across the street from us. Another chill raced up my spine and down my arms, making the tiny hairs stand at attention. It was too cold out. Why would anyone sit on a bench to chat?

No. Shaun was freaking over nothing and I was just reacting to him.

That’s what I kept telling myself. Over and over again.

I glanced across the lot. An older man slid from a green car parked sideways in the middle row. He came around the front, leaving the driver’s side door open, and lounged against the hood. In the fading light, I saw him wink as he folded his arms and flashed us a predatory smile.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered.

The guy by the gate—the one with the cell phone—turned and started over. “Hey. You guys wouldn’t happen to know where East Street is?”

Together, we took a single step back. The couple on the bench stood and started toward us, as did the smiling man by the green car. “Told ya,” Shaun hissed, gripping my hand tighter.

Mom never believed in violence as a remedy for tense situations, so I had zero fighting skills. I’d always relied on my brains to eke me out of tight spots. Had I been alone, it would have been easier to get away. There was a small gap in the fence about three yards from where we were. I could have made a mad dash and slipped through, but with Shaun and me shackled together, the chances of us both getting through before one of them reached us was impossible.

Shaun did a one-eighty, dragging me to the left, and we saw another man approaching from behind. “When I tell you, we’re going to run at him.” He jingled the cuffs beneath the hoodie. “Right before we get to him, lift your hand and pull the chain tight. Got it?”

I could only nod. I had a pretty good idea what he was planning, and it was awesome in theory—if not brilliant—but it was one of those things you saw on television. The kind of thing that didn’t actually work in real life without lots of practice and props.

“Shaun, right?” the man said with an obviously fake smile. He was wearing chinos and dark sunglasses, and for some reason, the fact that I couldn’t see his eyes creeped me out. “You’re working with Patrick.”

“Who’re you?”

The man stuffed both hands into his pants pocket. He was trying to put Shaun at ease by seeming like less of a threat. But he was tense. His arms were too rigid and his shoulders taut. He was prepared to ambush us if we tried to bolt. Body language spoke louder than words if you knew what to look for—and Mom made sure I did. “An interested party.”

I didn’t risk turning around, but I felt the others watching. They’d come up behind and effectively boxed us in.

Shaun kept his tone casual. “Interested in what?”

Moving slowly, he withdrew his right hand and held it up for us to see. In it was a small gold shield. “We’re here to take her into custody.”

“You’re a cop?” I asked, not bothering to hide my disbelief. He was no more a cop than I was a ballet dancer.