Protecting What's His (Line of Duty #1)(55)

He needed to move. The drive from Chicago to Nashville would take about eight hours and she was already halfway there. Derek hung up the call and grabbed his gun and car keys. Ginger wouldn’t turn the car around. He knew it for a fact.

He crumpled the note in his fist and threw it against the wall. Try not to worry? She would be a target the moment she entered Nashville. Valerie knew Ginger had the money. By now, that information had gotten back to Haywood Devon. And Ginger thought she could waltz back into the picture and return what she’d stolen without any consequences?

Re-holstering his gun, Derek hit redial on his cell and waited once more for the beep, closing his eyes at the sound of Ginger’s soft drawl. God, he wanted her safe in his arms so bad it physically pained him.

“Baby, listen to me. There are things you don’t know. You are walking into a very dangerous situation. Pull over and wait for me, please.” He swallowed. “Ginger, I need you. Don’t do this.”

Derek didn’t wait for her to call back, knowing she wouldn’t anyway. He took two quick steps toward his desk and picked up the file he’d been building on Haywood Devon over the past week, then slammed out of his apartment.

If he broke the speed limit and got lucky with traffic, he would be in Nashville by morning. Every hour would be critical if he had a shot in hell of saving Ginger.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Peering into the darkened house and deeming it empty, Ginger jiggled the broken window leading to her old bedroom, unsurprised to find it still in disrepair. From her position on the ground, she slid the window as far up as possible, then tossed the canvas sack through the opening. When no one came running, she dragged over an old paint can to boost herself over the sill and climbed inside. The sound of her cowboy boots hitting the floor echoed through the still house and Ginger paused a moment to listen for movement besides her own. Silence greeted her ears.

Glancing around the room, she noted in disgust that Willa’s bed still lay unmade from the morning they’d skipped town. Just being in the room made her feel fragile, more vulnerable. In two short weeks, she’d transformed from her previous self. This tiny, airless room was already a distant memory from her past. It made Ginger’s skin crawl to remember the things she and Willa had experienced in that very room, so she picked up the bag and walked determinedly through the door leading to the hallway, refusing to dwell on it anymore.

Returning the cash symbolized so much more than doing the honorable thing or being a better role model for Willa. Ginger was doing it for herself, too. As long as she held on to any piece of the past, even in the form of cash, she would never be able to let it go. She’d learned invaluable lessons about human nature inside these four walls, but every decision she made throughout her life couldn’t reflect the past or ultimately, it would beat her.

Nothing could beat Ginger, at least not without a fight. Especially now. Love had made her invincible. In a backward way, she supposed, returning the money was her way of moving forward with Derek. She had a feeling he would strongly disagree with her. And if she could gather the courage to listen to his thirty-eight voice mails, she could confirm her theory.

She should’ve dropped off the money and been halfway back to Chicago by now, but the General, picking a convenient time to surrender, had blown its fan belt outside of Springfield, delaying her for three frustrating hours until the mechanic could complete the repair. She sat in a truck stop diner sipping coffee and studiously ignoring her phone the entire time. It might make her a coward, but she couldn’t afford to lose her resolve. Besides, if Derek really wanted her as he’d said, accepting her stubborn nature would be step one.

No, Ginger corrected herself, he did want her. She needed to stop thinking in terms of ifs and maybes. The sooner she stashed the money under Valerie’s pillow, the sooner she could get back to Chicago and into his arms to reassure herself of that fact.

The sun began to rise outside, lighting her way into Valerie’s bedroom. She hadn’t set foot in her mother’s room since childhood, afraid of what she would find. She felt little shock at seeing the syringe sitting on the nightstand or the blackened spoon lying next to it. Sighing, she took a step toward the bed.

A car screeched to a stop outside and two doors slammed, followed closely by a third. Two male voices called to each other, but she couldn’t make out what they said.

The next closest house was condemned and had been for quite some time, which meant whoever it was had come to see Valerie, or had her mother with them. Ginger’s heart accelerated as she ducked behind a chest of drawers. A moment later, the front door opened and crashed against the wall. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand to prevent herself from screaming.

“Where you want her, Haywood?”

A deeper voice spoke. “Anywhere’ll do.” A heavy object dropped onto the carpet, followed by a slapping noise. “Time to wake up, Valerie. We’ve got business, you and I.”

Ginger’s mind raced. Maybe Valerie had passed out somewhere drunk and these men were just bringing her home? Yes, that would be a definite possibility, and not the first or last time it happened. But something about the man’s tone sent a warning shivering up her spine.

Valerie groaned.

“That’s right. Come on, now. I don’t have all day.”

“Haywood?” She sounded alarmed. “What do you want?”