Broken Wings (A Romantic Suspense)(21)

“Fitz,” I say, my voice trembling. “I’m going with him. We’re going out the back.”





Jack





“Wait, what?”

“I’m coming with you. Let’s go.”

I stare at her in disbelief. I don’t really have a plan past this point, because I didn’t think she’d actually agree to come with me.

Ellie tugs her hood up over her head, pulls it forward and around her face, and grabs my hand. I squeeze hard, and she squeezes back, digging her fingers into my palm.

“The back door.”

There’s a mudroom off the kitchen. We walk through and out into the shallow backyard. A gate opens to the alley between the houses. I hold Ellie’s hand and she walks behind me, close to my back as we creep around toward the front.

Her cousin must already be inside. I look both ways and pull Ellie with me across the street, throw open the Camaro’s door, and almost dump her inside. I jump in behind the wheel, start it up, and pull out, my heart pounding. This is actually happening.

“So now I have kidnapped you, and you are at my mercy.”

She punches my arm.

When we stop at the corner we both just look at each other. Ellie looks from me to her hand and back again, then tucks it in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

“So what now?”

“Um,” I say. “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned it this far.”

“Your dad is going to be angry with you, right?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to be around when he hears this.”

I sit in the seat, staring straight ahead. Somebody behind me blows their horn. For no real reason I turn left, circle around, and drive back down Third toward Market Street. Ellie stares out the window, though she hunches down in the seat and peers over the door like she expects someone to recognize her.

“This is nuts. Take me back.”

“We should circle a bit until your cousin leaves.”

“She won’t be there long. I wonder what the hell she wanted?”

I turn right onto Market and drive to the end, where it stops at a big concrete abutment at the river, then swing over into the on ramp for 95 South.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m kidnapping you. To, um…my mom’s house.”

“Where’s that?”

“Arizona.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

I rev up the engine as I pull out onto the highway and then stop myself and slow to a sedate cruising speed five miles under the speed limit. I’m probably lucky I wasn’t pulled over and dragged back to work already.

“Take me back,” Ellie says.

“Why, so you can go sit in your room and brood?”

“How do you know that’s what I do? You don’t know anything about me. We haven’t seen each other for ten years. I have hobbies.”

“Like what?”

“I like to color.”

I snort. “What, like a coloring book?”

Exasperated, she folds her arms over her chest. “Yes. It’s soothing. It’s called art therapy.”

“Oh. Some of the vets do that in therapy sessions. Like color in mandalas and stuff. I’ve never tried it.”

“That’s right, you were in the army.”

“Yeah. I resigned my commission not long ago. Dad wanted me to stay in the reserves until I’m old enough to run for Senate, but f*ck that.”

“Senate? For real?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He has my whole life planned out. Do this, do that, go here, cross off this mark on your résumé so I can buy you a political office. He can’t run himself.”

“Why not?”

I sigh. “Well, all the divorces, for one thing. I mean, he’s him. Remember that Murphy Brown show that was on when we were kids?”

“Not really, no.”

I sigh. “Well, in my house it was required watching so Dad could rage when they made a joke about him. He’s been bankrupt six times. He’s rumored to have ties to organized crime. Guy like that can’t run for office unless it’s to sell books.”

“Does he?”

“What, sell books?”

She sighs. “No, have ties to organized crime.”

“I don’t know.”

We’re both silent for a moment. The only sound is road noise and the throaty hum of the engine. I squeeze the wheel harder.

“Do you remember what happened that night?”

“No. Last thing I remember is going to the restaurant. I blacked out then I woke up weeks later in the burn ward. They’d already done the skin grafts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Everyone is.”

“I mean I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Ellie looks at me in the rearview mirror. With her in the passenger’s seat to my right, I can’t see her face. She has her hood pulled over the scars.

“You can put your hood back. You don’t need to hide your face from me.”

“Yeah, whatever. I need to hide it from everyone else.”

“Ellie—”