Aftershocks (18 page)

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Authors: Natalie J. Damschroder

BOOK: Aftershocks
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“No, I’m fine. Let’s just find this rail car.”

“Pushing yourself isn’t going to do anybody any good.”

Zoe walked faster. She didn’t want to argue, but the clock was ticking. “I’m fine,” she repeated.

“Hey.” Grant grabbed her arm and yanked her to a halt.

Before he could say anything, a man charged at them from the right, roaring. “Get your hands off of her!”

Zoe cried out as the man body-slammed Grant, ripping his hand off her arm. He blocked the attacker’s swing, but before he could throw a punch, she yelled, “No! Stop!”

Both men actually froze. Kell looked at her, but Grant didn’t take his eyes off the other man. She stood panting, even though she hadn’t been the one fighting, and stared at the sudden collision of her two worlds.

“It’s okay,” she said, not knowing what else to do. “He’s with me.”

“Who?” both men asked.

“I guess…both of you.” She blew out a frustrated breath. Joy twisted with shock and fear in a queasy tangle. “Kell, what are you doing here?” She hated how harsh it sounded, but they were being tracked, if not outright watched. His appearance could undo everything. She had to get rid of him, fast.

Grant dropped his arm from where it was braced against Kell’s. “This is your fiancé?” He eyed Kell speculatively.

“Ex-fiancé.” For a second, Zoe tried to see him through Grant’s eyes. He looked like the lawyer he was, in khakis and a polo and Italian loafers. An expensive travel tote lay on its side a few feet away. Even after his lunge at Grant, his hair was perfectly combed and expertly cut. He was the antithesis of Grant’s scruffiness.

“I’m obviously at a disadvantage.” Kell, too, had dropped his arms, but he glowered at Grant. “Who is this guy, and why was he manhandling you?”

“Grant Neely,” he growled, “also ex-fiancé, and I was just stopping her from running off. She’s cranky right now.”

“Oh, for cripes sake.” She stomped over to them. “Grant and I knew each other when we were teenagers. I never accepted your proposal,” she reminded him. “He’s helping me with…something.” It was probably too late to keep Kell out of this, but she had to try. “Here’s a tip: don’t tell a cranky woman that she’s cranky.”

Grant grinned, but Kell still glowered.

“What’s going on?” He used his courtroom voice. Zoe took a deep breath to keep fear from coming out as annoyance, then decided to let it fly. Maybe she could argue him into leaving.

“What’s going on is none of your business. We’re not engaged anymore.”

“Are you with this guy?” He gestured toward Grant without looking at him, somehow managing to be dismissive but not losing the tension in his body. His tone made clear that he meant
with
, not just “with.”

The earlier kiss flashed through her brain. “Not romantically,” she said, not sure if it qualified as a lie. She could have said yes, because hurting Kell would make things simpler, but she’d done enough of that. “He’s just an old friend who has the connections and skills I need to solve a problem.”

“And I don’t.”

“No.” The word came out softer than she’d intended.

“Are you in danger?” He moved closer to her.

“She could be,” Grant answered. Kell didn’t look at him until he continued, “She doesn’t want you to be part of this.”

“You tell me she could be in danger and then to stay out of it? What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I didn’t tell you to stay out of it,” Grant corrected. “It’s her call. And I’m waiting for you to show me.”

She didn’t get it. “Show you what?”

Kell did. “What kind of a man I am.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “Zoe, you owe me an explanation.”

“No, I don’t.” She really did, but… Hell, she might as well be honest. “You’re in more danger than I am.” She swallowed Olivia’s name, unsure if that would send him away or make him more determined to stay.

His brows knitted. “From whom?”

Grant rolled his eyes at the grammar, or maybe at his cluelessness, but it wasn’t Kell’s fault he didn’t know anything.

“It’s a long story,” she tried.

But Kell just nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” He turned and walked over to his bag, bent to grab the strap—

—and something zoomed past, right where his head had been.

Grant didn’t give them time to react. Before Zoe was done gasping, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her behind him as he pushed at Kell.

“Run.”

Kell hesitated long enough for them to pass him, putting himself between Zoe and whoever was behind them. Grant led the way, and they dashed past the baggage claim area and toward the exit. She strained to hear running feet while fighting not to look back and slow them all down.

They rushed through the automatic doors. Grant paused a split second to look both ways, then led them right, past the cars dropping off and picking up people. They leapt over a low pile of luggage—one, two, three, Zoe holding her breath but clearing it without a stumble—and ran past a line of people lumbering toward the cab line.

Grant ignored the attendant who approached and yanked open the first taxi’s door, shoving Zoe in and sliding in after her. Through the window, she watched Kell hand the attendant some money before he climbed quickly into the front seat.

“Downtown,” Grant barked at the driver. A seasoned older woman, she put the vehicle in gear and pulled out without looking, cutting off a shuttle. Horns blared behind them. Zoe drew a deep breath, afraid to consider them safe. Grant studied the traffic behind them through the back window.

“Two men, average-looking, kinda brown hair, one darker than the other,” the driver said. He turned and met her eyes in the rearview mirror. She continued, “They ran down the sidewalk after you. One kicked someone’s suitcase when we pulled away. Said a few bad words, too. Wanna hear them?”

“No, thanks.” Grant gave her his crooked grin. “What were they wearing?”

“Jeans, normal shirts, you know. Nondescript. One blue, one gray shirt. No hats or glasses.”

He laughed. “Impressive. You get people on the run often?”

“You’d be surprised.” Her eyes crinkled as she smiled back at him in the mirror.

“Did they get a cab?”

“Nope. Georgie made them get in line.”

“We were lucky,” Zoe murmured. Her body eased into the seat behind her as the tension drained out of Grant.

“Not lucky,” he said. “Smooth. Thanks,” he told Kell. “Quick thinking, paying Georgie to intercept. You okay? Did it hit you?”

Kell half turned to look at them, but his gaze was mostly on Zoe. “Fine. It missed. You see what it was?”

Grant shook his head. “Something heavy. It thudded, then clattered as it went across the floor. I didn’t see who threw it, so don’t bother asking.”

Zoe closed her mouth and looked out the window. She’d never seen the Rockies from the ground, only flying over, and the way these towered over the city ahead of them, practically glowing in the setting sun, put a feeling in her chest she couldn’t describe. Awe, probably. She’d have to come back here someday, for vacation or business. It deserved to be enjoyed, not careened through.

“We’re nearing downtown,” the driver broke the silence. “Where to?”

“Any hotel will be fine,” Grant told her.

“Something with suites,” Kell added, then murmured something Zoe couldn’t hear.

Zoe bit her lower lip and concentrated on the mountains. She had a ton of questions for Kell, including how he’d found her and what he was doing there. But she didn’t want to ask them because if he answered, she’d have to give him answers to his own questions. Questions that would take a lot longer to answer, and hurt more. And probably some about Grant that she didn’t know the answers to, anyway.

She remained subdued until the car pulled into a driveway in front of a gorgeous marble building. A doorman in a tan uniform opened her door and handed her out. She smiled uneasily. She wasn’t dressed for this place, and neither was Grant. Kell must have given the driver the name of this hotel, but how he knew about it, she had no idea.

Worse than their appearance was how much the rooms would cost. She couldn’t let either man pay for his own space. They were both here because of her. But more than one night here would severely deplete her cash, and though she had plenty of savings she could access, doing so would leave too much of a trail. They wanted to make their pursuers feel like they had tabs on them, not point neon arrows at themselves.

Kell paid the driver and closed his door, then turned to Zoe. He must have read what she was thinking, because he stepped closer and murmured, “I had a reservation here already. Tanicia made it for me when I left. We can register under the firm, not in your name. Okay?”

She reluctantly nodded. She didn’t know if the people following them would know it was Kell who’d joined them. If they did, the firm registration gave them something to track that was connected to her, but distant enough to maybe take a little time to nail down.

“After you, then.” Grant motioned at the doors, waving away a staff member who reached for their bags. Kell narrowed his eyes at Grant but, apparently deciding there was no downside, spun and led the way. Grant and Zoe stood back from the desk while Kell registered. They headed for the elevators before he did, so it wasn’t obvious they were together. Grant guided Zoe the whole way, telling her in a very low voice what Kell was doing. The precaution should have made her feel better—his outwardly casual touches on her arms and back and the motion of his lips near her ear had a dual effect that was far from calming. Part of her felt warm and zingy, enjoying the intimacy. The rest of her looked in from outside, knowing the whole charade had to be driving Kell insane.

When they got in the elevator Kell handed Grant a key card. “You have the room next to us.”

“I thought we were doing a suite,” Zoe protested. “I can’t afford two rooms.”

“You’re not paying,” the men said together.

“I decided a suite isn’t practical,” Kell explained. “These rooms are spacious, with sitting areas. We can still talk comfortably, and this way, no one has to sleep on the couch.”

She couldn’t really argue. Not without using words like “sexual tension” and “complicated feelings” and “damn, I’m horny.” She thought about taking a room for herself, pictured the two men sharing a bed, and snickered.

“Okay, fine.” She sounded so ungrateful. “Thank you for doing this.”

“Don’t thank me.” He waited as the doors opened and Grant leaned out first to check the hallway. “Just tell me what the hell is going on.”

She sighed. “It’s a long story,” she repeated.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Grant stopped at the third door on the right. “This is me. I’m running out to pick up a few things. You’ll have about an hour, then we need to plan.”

Zoe thanked him and followed Kell into their room. How the hell was she going to handle this? Sharing a bed with him, when she’d broken their engagement and not too long ago had been involved in a steamy kiss with Grant, didn’t seem like the best idea. Then they cleared the entryway and she halted at the sight of two double beds.

“I thought that’s what you’d want,” Kell said. He set the keycard envelope on a small table and motioned into the room. “Do you need to do anything before we start?”

She could shower to give herself time to think about what to say, but they didn’t have time for stalling. “No.”

“Okay, then.” He walked across the room and dropped onto the love seat under the window. “Why don’t you start at the beginning?”

She didn’t move. “You shouldn’t sit in front of the window.”

“We’re ten stories up.”

“There’s another tall hotel across the street.” They hadn’t gotten the mountain view side.

He didn’t move, and she heaved yet another sigh. “It’s a
very
long story.”

“Then you’d better sit down.”

She chose a chair on his right and closed her eyes. “I never wanted you involved in this. I thought it was long past, something that couldn’t touch us. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond. Afraid to see what he was feeling on his face, she looked down at the rich wool carpet and began.

“I was abducted when I was twelve years old.”

Kell didn’t move, but the absolute stillness of his body told her of his shock. He didn’t say anything, though, and she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

She shifted on the seat, crossing her legs, but they immediately uncrossed, setting her feet flat on the floor. “A woman, Fredricka Thomashunis—Freddie—saw me outside the grocery store. I’d run out to get something from the car. She dragged me into a van and drugged me so I couldn’t fight or get away.” She jerked to her feet and paced in the archway between the bedroom and the sitting area. It was so similar to when she was in therapy, she almost expected Kell to be taking notes when she glanced at him.

“The woman who took me was married, kind of. Not legally, and not in any recognized religion, but it was a marriage to them. They kept me tied or chained, usually with a chemical camping toilet and a bowl of water in the room.” It was odd what details came out, her mouth working ahead of her brain. She’d never told her story like this, to someone who knew absolutely nothing about it. She’d always thought knives would carve chunks out of the adult she’d created, but it was more like a melting, as past and present began to shift and merge. The idea could have been frightening, but instead she felt…a hint of peace.

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