Raw Redemption (Crossing the Line #4)(6)

Polly shrugged. “Sorry, buddy. The masses have spoken. Bad news is, Ailish is either out of money or foolish. Good news is, she’s alive.” The printer on Derek’s desk began to spew out documents, thankfully disguising the deflated sound that whooshed from Henrik’s mouth. “A big-box store north of Wisconsin ran a credit report on Ailish a few hours ago. She must have applied for a store credit card. Not too smart when you’re trying to disappear, but who am I to judge?” Polly closed the laptop and examined her nails. “Anyway, she’s moved north to the Great Lakes state.”

Weight fell from Henrik’s shoulders, allowing him to skirt the group and retrieve the printed documents. “Michigan.”

“Yes,” Polly continued. “When you get to her—and please note my agreement that you should be the one to go—make sure she keeps her cell phone off. Last time she turned it on, her father called. Good for us, because I traced her location via a cell phone tower. Bad for her if Caine O’Kelly has an employee with rudimentary tracing skills.”

“God, but I love my girl,” Austin murmured.

Derek considered him for a beat. “Get moving, Vance. You’ve got a week to get Ailish O’Kelly back here, or I’ll do it myself,” he said, stepping into Henrik’s personal space and lowering his voice. “Listen, this department would place a lot of value on the man who finally managed to roll O’Kelly. You accomplish that? You’ll have my full support to be reinstated as an officer.”

In the midst of his urgency to drive like a bat out of hell to Michigan, the captain’s unexpected delivery of hope almost wasn’t welcome. Too good to dwell on when his priorities were so firmly elsewhere. But the hope wouldn’t be denied. Not completely. It started in his stomach and rolled out like a ripple effect. Cautious, but alive. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll do the right thing. Bring the girl back for your own sake.” He tipped his head forward, eyebrows drawn. “And for the love of everything holy, keep it in your pants.”

...

The first time Ailish ran away, she was thirteen. She’d walked out of her all-girls private school and saw the black town car waiting for her at the curb, the bulky man in sunglasses waiting to bring her back to the walled prison she called home. She remembered that afternoon so clearly because it had marked a week since her mother left. Just…left. Sure, the relationship between Caine and her mother had been volatile, but she hadn’t even tried to keep Ailish. Hadn’t even said good-bye.

Gangster. Evil. Murderer. Words her classmates whispered as they passed her in the hallways, in reference to her father. For a thirteen-year-old girl who’d just essentially lost her mother, any excuse to run away had been welcome. Run away from the male-dominated house, a father who became less recognizable by the day, her new, confusing hormones. So many ambiguities in her life and nowhere to turn. So she’d booked it, without any idea of where she might end up.

The man in sunglasses had caught up with her at the corner noodle shop. She could still remember that frigid fear of being cornered. That realization that she couldn’t survive on her own, even if she got away. No money, no friends. A severe lack of social skills, thanks to her sheltered existence.

That hadn’t stopped her from trying. Again and again.

If anything, Ailish’s faith in humanity had been restored since leaving Chicago. A ramshackle car dealership just outside of Green Bay had traded in her car with no questions asked, giving her a few hundred dollars on top of it, due to the difference in quality of the vehicles. The cash had been sorely needed since Cubs Hat’s greed had left her broke back in Wisconsin. She didn’t realize until later, when a Walmart employee bent over backward to help her apply for a store credit card, that the black eye was responsible for everyone’s apparent sympathy. Not wanting to give a false impression, Ailish had explained to the employee that she was just fine. There was no need for concern. But she stopped when it became apparent her words were falling on deaf ears.

Once she’d reached the small waterside city of Escanaba, Michigan, she’d been given the same careful once-over upon walking into the cabin rental office. Based on the other clientele milling around, the cabins were rented mostly by fishermen and families looking for a quick weekend at the lake. But the woman behind the counter had handed her a key, asking only for a small deposit. Unfortunately, that small deposit had cleaned her out. Tomorrow she would need to think about a temporary job. Maybe renting fishing gear, or—

Creak.

Ailish dropped the Cup Noodles, wincing when the hot soup splashed up onto her bare legs. Not again.

This time, however, she was better prepared.

She jogged to her twin bed, lifted the mattress, and removed the nine-millimeter she’d stolen from Tall Man’s waistband while fleeing from the guesthouse in Wisconsin. After which she’d thrown up in the dirt. Twice. Right now, though, she was sure as hell glad she’d taken the weapon.

Ailish positioned her legs shoulder width apart and pointed the gun at the cabin’s only entrance. When she caught her reflection in the mirror, she deflated a little. No one looked threatening in a Disney Princesses T-shirt—courtesy of the sale section at Walmart—and no pants. She probably didn’t have time to change, right?

The doorknob jiggled and Ailish stifled a gasp. Inhaling nice and slow, she steadied the gun. Ready. She was ready for whomever her father had sent. They weren’t good men. They were men who killed for a living. She had to remember that.