The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery

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      “Now that I have your attention,” he said softly, “you’re going to answer a few questions.”

      He could feel the heat of her body and the curve of her breast where it brushed against his elbow. She trembled against him.

      “I’m going to let you breathe enough to talk, but I’m not going to let you go. If you give me any more trouble, I’ll make you very uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

      She nodded.

      He loosened his hold on her throat. She gasped in a breath of air, then coughed. Bobby rushed at her. “Let her go! You let go of my mommy. My daddy will come back on his big boat and he’ll hurt you.”

      Sunlight filtered through the trees and brush around them. The scent of the saltwater and the faint crash of the surf drifted toward them. Jeff stared at the boy, hearing his words, but not wanting to believe them.

      The child moved closer and angrily swiped at the tears on his face. Sunlight caught the brown of his hair, then highlighted the shape of his nose and chin. Raw anger radiated from the child’s eyes. Anger so like another man’s rage.

      “Let her go,” Bobby demanded again.

      Jeff released the woman and stepped back. He bumped into a tree and grasped its smooth trunk for support. Bobby continued to glare at him. Those eyes, so large and expressive. So like his father’s.

      Jeff swallowed hard, remembering another child with big eyes, a boy about four years old, laughing as he climbed down the plane’s steps and flew into his father’s arms.

      “I crossed an ocean,” J.J. had said proudly as Jeff had swooped him up.

      “Did you?”

      “I wasn’t afraid.”

      Jeanne had followed her son down the steps, moving a little slower, the long flight and time changes making her weary. “He’s not afraid of anything.”

      Fierce pride had burned through Jeff, as though he had something to do with his child’s bravery. Perhaps he had taught him something about courage, but more likely, J.J. hadn’t encountered anything to be frightened of. He’d been surrounded by loving parents and family from the moment he’d been born.

      So much life snuffed out by a single explosion. An explosion meant for his father.

      Jeff stared at the boy in front of him, and at the woman crouched down beside him. She held the child to her and watched him fearfully, as if he’d gone mad. He had gone mad.

      Loathing rose up inside of him until he could taste the bitterness. Hatred, anger, rage. Revenge.

      He advanced slowly. “What’s your last name, Bobby?”

      “C-Cochran,” the child answered.

      There had been rumors, of course. Whispers of a brief marriage, hints of a child. But few had seen the mysterious woman or her son. Word on the street was that she’d left Kray after six months of wedded bliss. Kray had kept his secrets. And the woman had kept hers.

      Jeff continued to approach. The woman stood up and moved the boy behind her.

      “You can’t hurt him,” she said. “He’s just a boy.”

      “He’s Kray’s son.”

      “No. He’s mine. Until three weeks ago, he’d never even seen his father. He thought he was dead. Bobby is nothing like Kray. Nothing.” Her voice grew louder with each word.

      “Mommy?” Bobby clung to her leg and whimpered.

      Jeff reached for the custom grip of his pistol. His hand brushed against the cool steel. He froze. What the hell was he doing?

      He shook his head to clear away the anger, then tamped down the remaining emotions. He couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of his job.

      He gave the boy a half smile. “Don’t be scared, son. I won’t hurt you.”

      Bobby sniffed, but didn’t release his death grip on his mother’s jeans.

      Jeff returned his attention to the woman. She, too, had large eyes. High cheekbones sculpted her face. For the first time he realized she was beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him think about the forbidden. Or beautiful enough to tempt a man to try to own her, much as Kray owned objects from all over the world.

      “How old are you?” he asked Bobby.

      “F-five.”

      His gaze narrowed as he studied the woman. That meant she’d married Kray about six years ago. Six years ago, when J.J. had been three and growing faster than he’d believed possible. Six years ago, when Jeff’s marriage with Jeanne was crumbling around them and it didn’t seem to matter how much they’d been in love. Six years ago when his wife had accused him of loving his job more than he’d loved her and he’d known in his heart she was right.

      Jeff moved closer. The woman froze in place. Fear flickered across her features, tightening her jaw and making her body tremble. But she didn’t back away. She kept herself between him and the boy.

      Her run through the jungle and wrestling with him had loosened her braid. Strands of hair drifted across her shoulders. He reached forward. She flinched. Slowly he grabbed the loose hair and pulled it away from her face. His gaze narrowed as he studied her features. Six years ago she hadn’t been blond. He pictured her eyes green instead of blue, her hair cropped above the ears and bright red. His gaze flickered over her T-shirt and jeans. She hadn’t been as curvy then, or dressed so casually. He searched his memory recalling all the pictures of Kray he’d pored over, memorizing everything he could about the man.

      One photograph clicked into place. He stared at the blonde, seeing instead a tall, painfully thin party girl in a designer gown. She’d been clinging to Kray’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly. The powerful telescopic lens had caught her perfect features, her wide eyes and mouth. He remembered everything and knew exactly who she was.

      Jeff stepped back from her. “You’re the bimbo model.”

      “And you’re some macho jerk who gets a kick out of frightening little boys.”

      He raised his eyebrows. “I’d always assumed Kray liked his women submissive and decorative. Guess I was wrong.”

      “I was a great disappointment to him.”

      He glanced at Bobby. “Obviously not. You’re the wife,” he said, wondering how any woman could become involved with low-life scum like Kray. Was it the money? The power? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have time for this.

      “Ex-wife,” she said.

      He ignored her, then glanced back the way they’d come and wondered how long it would be before someone noticed the kid was missing. Kidnapping Kray’s only son wasn’t going to make the crime lord happy. The woman was in a lot of trouble. No doubt she already knew that.

      Damn. If only she hadn’t picked today to try her heroics. Kray would be dead by now СКАЧАТЬ