Baby On The Run. Hope White

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      Not happening.

      Matt wondered what had made Jenna do the about-face from trusting Matt to being terrified of him. The way she’d threatened him with the gun...

      The gun. She’d retrieved it from his glove box. Since she probably had little if any experience with firearms, he could only guess what conclusions she would have drawn about someone who casually carried a handgun in his vehicle.

      He went into the field to search for his gun and realized he wasn’t angry that she’d tossed it. In fact, he respected her for the move if she thought him dangerous.

      Scanning the area with a flashlight, he wondered how to convince Jenna to accept his help. He couldn’t arrest her, because she hadn’t done anything wrong—although technically she had kidnapped a child. Instinct told him to keep her out of the system, or the chief would find her for sure.

      He found the gun, shoved it into the back of his waistband and turned.

      Something smashed against his head.

      He fell to the cold, hard snow, and blinked to clear his vision.

      He was being dragged across the parking lot toward the Dumpster.

      As they released him with a jerk, two men started kicking Matt. Was this a random mugging or had the chief’s men found him? Did Billings suspect Matt knew more than he was saying?

      “Where is she?” a man asked, delivering a kick to Matt’s stomach.

      “Who?” he gasped.

      A solid boot jammed against his neck. He grabbed the guy’s ankle and yanked.

      The guy went down.

      Matt scrambled to his feet.

      The second guy snapped a cord around Matthew’s neck, cutting off air. After surviving two tours in Afghanistan, dodging IEDs and defending innocents, he was going down like this?

      God, if I’m done, I’m okay with that. But please protect Jenna and the child.

      With a sudden release, he was shoved headfirst into the metal Dumpster, then yanked back and thrown onto the pavement. Drifting in and out of consciousness, all he could think about was Jenna, her colorful green eyes and lovely smile.

      “Jenna North,” the husky guy said, his face close to Matt’s. “Where. Is. She?”

      “Hang on, he’s calling,” the other guy said. “Yeah... Where? On our way. Let’s go.”

      “What about the janitor?”

      “Forget him. We’ve got a location on the woman.”

      On Jenna? They knew she was inside? Matt struggled to get up. One of the guys kicked him twice in the ribs for good measure.

      Matt coughed and clutched his chest. With blurry vision, he watched the men cross the lot.

      He had to get to her. Had to warn her.

      Struggling to get up, his head spun and he collapsed on the pavement. He coached himself to breathe, to think past the throbbing headache long enough to help Jenna.

      An innocent woman protecting an innocent child.

      “Matthew?”

      He looked up. Vivid green eyes sparkled down at him. Jenna.

      No, they’d find her; they’d kill her. “You need to...”

      What? Be taken into FBI custody? Why? He was in no shape to protect her, and by the time backup arrived, the thugs would have surely found her.

      “My keys.” He dug into his jacket pocket and fished them out. As he offered them to her, they slipped through his trembling fingers. “Take the truck. Get out of here.”

      He heard the keys scrape against the pavement. Good, she was taking his advice. Looking out for herself and the child.

      A few seconds passed, maybe minutes—he couldn’t be sure. What he did know was that if the cops found him, they’d ask questions, risking his cover.

      Then again, he could tell the truth, to a point. He’d been jumped and beaten, and when he regained consciousness, his truck was gone.

      “Open your eyes.”

      It was Jenna’s voice.

      He blinked a few times and found himself looking up at her beautiful face.

      “You need to go,” he ordered.

      “Can you get up?”

      “The men—”

      “They’re gone. Come on—stand up.”

      “Gone?” he said as she helped him to his feet. He groaned, clutching his ribs.

      “They left. I called 9-1-1 and told them I was at Scooter’s Pancake House in Cedar River.”

      “What about...the little boy?”

      “He’s in the car.”

      He blinked to clear the stars from his vision, but it didn’t help much. Safe to say the chief’s thugs had gifted him with a doozy of a concussion. When he reached his truck, Jenna led him to the passenger side.

      “I’ll drive,” he said.

      “You can barely stand. Get in.” She glanced nervously over her shoulder. A few people inside the truck stop were watching from the window.

      As he started to argue, he realized how right she was. Matt was in no shape to drive and they needed to get out of here, quick. The concussion was messing with his judgment. He’d have to rely on Jenna’s acumen for the time being.

      Once inside the truck, he closed his eyes. He heard her get behind the wheel, but she didn’t start the vehicle.

      He cracked open his eyes. “What...what’s happening?”

      “I need to take my contacts out.” She dug through her bag.

      “Do it when we’re safe.”

      “I’ll do it now, thank you very much,” she snapped.

      He’d made her angry. Why? He was trying to protect her, get her away from danger.

      She pulled out a small container, and before he could say Miranda rights, she’d removed her contacts and was transformed with the help of large, dark-rimmed glasses. Her auburn hair had been tucked into a ski cap.

      “Okay, let’s take care of you. Where’s the first aid kit?” she said.

      “I’m fine.” As he said the words, he found himself drifting into that dark place—the place between consciousness and sleep, the place where time didn’t exist. Distant memories flooded his brain, СКАЧАТЬ