RENEGADE'S REDEMPTION Page 22

  Fiercely, she made a promise to herself. Tommy would be that child again. Blake wouldn’t get his way this time.

  “With Katie, honey. And everybody. We’re not moving and hiding anymore. Not after this week.”

  “Tommy—” Royal held out his hand “—you do your job. I’ll do mine. I promise on my honor to take care of your mom. Will you trust me?” His eyes were dark green with pain, but he kept his gaze on Tommy. “If you will trust me, Tommy, I promise you, I’ll keep your mom safe. I’ll bring her back to you. Will you trust me?”

  Elly knew how painful that question was for Royal. Alicia had divulged what had happened in Palmaflora, why Royal had cultivated his don’t-give-a-damn attitude, his pretense that he was more dissolute than he actually was.

  “Can I see Katie?” Tommy wiped his hand along his shorts. “‘Cause I want to see her.”

  “As soon as this is over, you can see Katie every day,” Elly promised. “You can go to her house. She can come to ours.”

  “Katie can come to my house?” Tommy whispered. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “‘Kay.” Tommy stuck his hand into Royal’s. “I can be a decoy like in my soldier games. But I will be lonesome.” His bottom lip stuck out.

  “I know, honey, I know. But I’ll be back, sweetie-pie.” She buried her face in his flyaway hair and swallowed the lump in her throat. He’d been such a sturdy, good-natured baby, all the promise of the man he’d become in his energy and curiosity.

  She wanted to be around to see her son become a man.

  Standing up, she carried him with her, her arms wrapped around his chubby body. “I have to go now, sweetie-pie,” she murmured. “You be good for Leesha and everybody. Don’t go wandering or exploring unless someone’s with you. Just for these three days, honey, please.” She handed him to Alicia. “Take care of him. Please.” Elly controlled the wobble in her voice. She was not going to cry. That wasn’t the memory she wanted Tommy to have of her if the worst happened.

  “Elly, nothing’s going to harm him. I make that promise personally.” Alicia took Tommy and slid him onto her hip. “And, Tommy?”

  “What, Leesha?” Tommy looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to be intrigued or to squall, and Elly wanted to squall herself.

  “We’re going to teach you how to scuba before your mom and Royal return. And then we’ll have a picnic with soda and pizza, and you can show everybody what you’ve learned. But we’ll have to work hard because they’re not going to be gone very long. Can you handle swimming every day? And wearing a mask?”

  Tommy chewed his lip. “Yeah.” He nodded more eagerly as he thought through what she’d said. “No problem. I can do decoys and scubas, Mommy.” Tilting toward Elly from Alicia’s hip, he patted her face. “Don’t worry, Mommy.”

  “Of course not, honey. You’re in good hands. Bye, sweetie. Bye.” Elly had to hurry toward the front door. Her insides were twisting and turning and deep sobs were shaking her apart. At the door, she turned. “Love you, Thomas Lee. You remember that, hear?”

  As she and Royal crawled into the back of Beau’s shiny gray car, she looked back at her son. Through the screen door, she saw Tommy’s bottom lip tremble, and she started, shoving Royal’s restraining hand aside. “No, Elly. You can’t,” he murmured regretfully, and she stayed crouched in the back, peering above the rim of the car window.

  Beau turned the ignition key. With the throbbing sound of the car’s powerful engine, Tommy’s face crumpled into tears. But he kept waving his hand, over and over, his nose mashed and flattened against the screen door. His small hand waving to her from the door was the last thing she saw as the car pulled away.

  *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  They arrived at Michael’s cabin late in the evening. Leaving the roads slick and black, clouds and fitful rain showers slowed them down. Unable to see anything except the intermittent flicker of passing cars and the beat of rain against the back window, Elly tried to sleep, leaning back against Royal’s chest, his knees, but the back of the car was cramped. “Pretend you’re on a really cheap airline,” he advised halfway into the trip as she wiggled and shifted and scooted forward on the gray floor carpet.

  “What?” She tried to turn and look at him over her shoulder.

  “No legroom. Long flight. Ten-inch-wide seats. You know. Economy section.”

  “Sure.” And she tried to empty her brain of the pictures and sounds filling it. But that last sight of Tommy brought tears to her eyes whenever she let herself see him in her mind’s eye.

  Finally, though, lulled by the whisper of the tires under her and the drizzle of rain on the windows, Elly dozed on and off. Cramped, miserable and afraid she’d regret her recent decisions, she preferred the unconsciousness sleep gave her.

  Once, as a flash of neon orange aroused her, she heard Beau telling Royal that he’d put himself between a rock and a hard place, but the vibration of Royal’s chest against her back pitched her back into that warm oblivion of sleep, a place where thinking and planning were impossible.

  By the time the three-hour drive ended, she was afraid she’d been permanently pretzeled from riding in the back of Beau’s sports car, what with Royal crammed in behind her so close she couldn’t shift position without embarrassing herself and him.

  As they drove up, Beau slowed the car and unrolled the car windows. The rain had let up, but the ground was pocky with puddles and dripping bushes. In the darkness, frogs sang a mad chorus of desire and pleasure.

  The cabin was set way back in the scrub near an inlet from the river. Isolated, almost invisible except from the air, it was two rooms and a kitchen. A basic hunting-and-fishing cabin, it was stark, the Everglades thick around it.

  “You’ll be able to see anyone coming up the road. Unless it’s me or Sullivan, no one should be driving up here, Royal. We don’t get mail deliveries here, nothing like that. The cabin has electricity, occasional hot and cold running water. You’ll have to light the water heater. The place is bare bones, nothing fancy. But at least nobody knows about it.”

  Royal pushed the driver’s seat forward so she could climb out. “If one person knows, anyone can find out that information,” he said grimly, his breath ruffling the hair at the back of her neck as he followed in back of her. “You know that, Beau. First rule of police work.”

  “True.” Surveying the territory, Beau frowned. “Michael. Andy. Me. We’re the only ones who come out here.”

  Elly shivered. Royal had spoken her own thoughts. As safe as it seemed, the cabin was still vulnerable. They all knew that. They knew how far-reaching Blake’s tentacles were.

  But the cabin was what they had. It would have to do while they figured out what was going on.

  The three of them walked around the cabin in the dark, Beau’s powerful flashlight pointing to shapes in the underbrush, under the house. When they returned to the front of the cabin, he handed them Sullivan’s cellular phone.

  “Don’t call unless there’s a problem. You could be tapped or traced. I’ll check in with you at four-thirty each afternoon, but from different phones. If you get a phone call any other time, don’t answer. If I have a message, I’ll leave a number on the voice mail. The signal for an emergency will be Tommy’s name, meaning your cover’s blown and you’re on your own until we can reestablish communication. That about it?”

  “Yeah.” Royal nodded. “Elly? Anything you want to add? This is the time.”

  She shook her head. As far as she could tell, they’d covered their bases. Her nerves were jumping. But she’d made her choice. For better or for worse, she’d committed them all. Put them in harm’s way. Let them step in front of Blake’s power. None of them could turn back now.

  And she’d kept one vital piece of information from them. Was that a mistake? She strained to see through the darkness on either side of the tunnel of light from Beau’s flashlight.

  Beau clicked off the light, and Royal moved
next to her, his body a solid presence that made the heavy, thick night less frightening. The car door slammed, echoed in the silence of the backwoods country. Down the overgrown lane, Beau’s taillights winked red and vanished, leaving them behind.

  “Stars would help,” she said, rubbing her arms as goose bumps skipped up and down her arms. Hot and humid, and she was shivering as if she were in a snowstorm.

  Royal covered her arms with his as he looked up at the sky. “Clouds. Another storm’s headed our way according to the weather reports on the radio. We’d better get inside before we get soaked. Beau’s going to have a crummy ride back to Palmaflora.” He grinned at her, his teeth gleaming quickly in the darkness. As her eyes became accustomed to the night, she could make out the shape of his face, could see the shine of his eyes as he looked around them. “Well, sugar, let’s go make ourselves at home and check out the accommodations at Club Bienvenue. What do you say?” He pushed open the screen door and then the rough cypress front door.

  “Is it safe to turn on the lights in the cabin?”

  “We’re probably safe using them tonight. We’ll have to see what happens. Play it day by day. See what Beau and Sullivan find out.”

  “Hmm.” She shivered again. Royal was as uneasy as she was. His abrupt manner, the clipped words, his constant scanning of the darkness outside the cabin’s windows revealed his tension more clearly than anything he could have said.

  Inside the door, he pulled a chain, and light washed over his face. Lines of strain showed at the corners of his eyes, and he moved lightly, balancing on the balls of his feet in smooth, ready-for-anything strides, his gaze sweeping the room and back to her. “Hungry, sugar?”

  She shuddered “You’re kidding, right? I think I’d throw up if I tried to eat.” Standing in the center of the room, she tried to decide what, in fact, she did want to do. She couldn’t eat, she was too wired to sleep, she didn’t see any books. And all she could think of was Tommy, alone, his face pressed against the screen door as she left. She made a tiny sound of dismay. She’d never get through the three days at this rate.

  A silvery blue fish mounted on the wall stared down at her unsympathetically.

  Royal ran his hands over his face, scrubbing hard at his chin. His bruises were changing color, the scrapes healing, and the dark shadows under his eyes made her lift her hand up and touch his face gently. He was putting everything on the line, too. He turned his chin to her palm, scratching it with the bristles gilding his face. Reaching out, he lifted a strand of her hair, let it slip through his fingers. “Such pretty hair, Elly.” He carried the strand to his face and breathed in its scent, his expression somber. “God, I love the smell of your hair.” Winding the strand around his finger, he drew her even closer. Her shoes bumped his.

  “Just the two of us, Elly. You, me and the creatures of the night, whoever they are. And I don’t want you to be afraid of me. You don’t have to worry I’m going to throw you down on the floor and have my wicked way with you.” He flashed a rueful grin. “I’d like to, of course. But I have, as you remarked, an affinity for control. And I can control myself. You’ve been through enough—”

  “Shh,” she said, touching her fingers to his mouth. Damn the man. He was trying to distract her, to make her think of anything except the long hours of anxiety ahead for her, for them both. “I’m not afraid of you. I would never have left Tommy behind if I didn’t trust you.”

  He winced.

  “I’m a grown woman. I make my own choices. Some time ago, I swore, no one would ever make them for me. They may not be great, but they’re mine. So, buster—” she smiled “—maybe you should worry about me jumping your bones.” She gave him a push in the abdomen. “Don’t sweat the small stuff, Detective.”

  “Bad word to use around a man, sugar,” he drawled, some of the tension leaving his face with the return of his teasing manner. “That’s a word to make a man break out in a cold sweat.”

  “Detective?” she asked innocently, and sashayed ahead of him into what looked like the cabin’s kitchen.

  “Witch,” he murmured, following her.

  “Beast,” she said cheerfully, some of the chill leaving her as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

  They hadn’t been able to salvage the jeans he’d worn to the rodeo. They’d both changed. As her gaze lingered on the long curve of his buttocks and thighs, Elly decided she liked the look of Royal’s rear in Beau’s too-tight jeans.

  Both of them had borrowed liberally from Beau and Alicia. Sullivan’s shirts had been too tight for Royal’s slightly wider shoulders. Fitting Alicia’s more elongated shape, her shorts hung around Elly’s knees. Laughing at Elly in Leesha’s shorts, Beau had volunteered a couple of his T-shirts as dresses. Saying “that was a good idea,” Alicia had raided Beau’s closets until she found some rope belts that Elly could use with the T-shirts, turning them into a semblance of casual summer dresses. Maggie contributed the yellow shorts Elly now wore, Alicia the gauzy cotton tops in brilliant colors that Elly secretly delighted in after the no-color clothes she’d worn for months.

  Tearing her gaze away from Royal’s rear, Elly focused her thoughts elsewhere and realized she was hungry after all. “I think I could eat some soup if there’s any in the cupboard.” She started at one end of the kitchen cupboards, Royal at the other, his cheerful whistling punctuating the rat-a-tat slamming of doors.

  They could get through this. She just wouldn’t think about Tommy and the men following her and Royal. And she wouldn’t let herself think of her ex-husband and the webs he would be spinning after her disappearance.

  “You miss Tommy, don’t you?” Royal handed her an opened can of tomato soup.

  “He’s only five.” Unable to move, she held the can, fighting off memories. “Remember how you were at that age?” She raised her face to his, tears collecting in her eyes. “How frightened you would have been all alone.”

  Taking the can from her, he plopped the column of red stuff into a pan. “No, actually, I don’t. My parents shipped me out to boarding schools, military schools, prep schools. They weren’t interested in four-year-old kids who cried and made messes and interrupted dinner parties with chicken pox.”

  “What?” Stunned, Elly looked at him. The man was tough, resourceful. But he’d been a child like Tommy, frightened and alone. On his own. Abandoned. “Oh, Royal. How awful for you.”

  “Hey, sugar—” his eyes glittered with self-mockery “—don’t shed any tears for me. I had everything. I was the golden boy. Anything I wanted, I had.”

  “Except love.” Her heart hurt for the child Royal had been, the boy who’d had so much. The boy who’d had nothing of value and had grown into a man who joked and teased and kept real emotion out of his life. “I’m so—”

  “No big deal, sugar,” he interrupted. “What do you say we drop ancient history and get this meal on the table?”

  “All right.” She was shaky inside, the impulse to comfort him making her drop knives. What he’d told her about the child explained so much about the man. “You’re right. And besides, I’m starving.”

  Tomato soup and crackers in chipped mugs. Grilled-cheese sandwiches made from frozen bread in the freezer and processed cheese that had an expiration date somewhere in the next century. Baby sweet pickles Royal found in the refrigerator. Elly discovered she was more than hungry—she was ravenous, the buttery smell of the bread and cheese tantalizing her until her stomach rumbled.

  “Whoa. What was that?” Royal pulled his head out from a cupboard. “For such a tiny mite, you make a big noise, sugar. I thought you said you weren’t hungry?” He tilted his head and lifted one golden eyebrow.

  She blushed and flipped the sandwiches with the spatula he handed her as he banged the drawer shut with his denimed rear. “That’s all right, Elly. I like a woman with … an appetite.” His glance teased her, invited her to play, to forget what he’d told her about himself. To forget for a few minutes where they we
re and why.

  With that thought, anxiety drifted back over her. “I know what you’re doing, you know.”

  “Well, I should hope and pray you do.” Slouching on the counter, Royal regarded her with mock concern. Beau’s purple T-shirt tightened across his chest as he folded his arms. He’d tucked the shirt into a pair of Beau’s faded jeans, and the pull of the light cotton fabric across his chest outlined the contours of his stomach and rib muscles, the muscled shape of his belly. “A woman of your advanced age and experience should be able to figure out how to flirt. To … tease.”

  “Right. All that experience.” She glowered at him.

  “There hasn’t been all that much experience, has there, Elly, not really?” His tone was gentle.

  “No.”

  “Blake.” Royal shifted, and Beau’s jeans cupped him, drawing her attention to the zipper placket that was washed and worn thin.

  “Blake,” she agreed, looking away.

  “Why, sugar?” Royal didn’t move, and his expression was so tender that he made her want to weep for all the spoiled years. “Why him? And only him? He’s not worth a strand of your hair.”

  She couldn’t remember now, not after so long, why there had been only Blake. “I thought I was in love with him. I was. My brain went soft, I guess. Now I can see all those warning signs I missed.” She sighed. “I was too adoring, too ready to believe anything he said. And I didn’t understand that he didn’t love me. I was ‘suitable.’ Quiet—”

  “Pshaw. Not you, sugar.” Royal’s smile made her blink. “Never meek and quiet. The man can’t be all that bright if he misjudged you like that.”

  “And he thought I was stupid,” she finished, the bitterness and resentment still pinching. “It took me a long time to figure out that was what he thought of me. That I was too stupid to make a fuss, too stupid to understand what was happening around me—” She slapped her hand on the counter.