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“Waiting.”

“Let’s go,” Jackson ordered.

His large hand closed over hers and pulled her into a run behind him. His free hand held a gun pointed toward the ground. Luke cleared the way also with his gun drawn. Reagan focused on her feet, trying not to trip as she struggled to keep pace with the boys.

“Where are we going?” she shouted, her voice breathy from her run down the steps back into the bar.

The boys ignored her as they rounded the corner on the other side of the bar where Ben waited with a door open. As she drew close, she saw the door led to a storeroom where they kept everything from napkins to booze. Once inside, Ben closed the door and secured it from the inside. Reagan started to believe the boys were planning to hide unti the police came. But then Luke popped open a trap door on the floor. He hurried down the steps, and Jackson nudged her to follow his brother. She stared down and noted the steps led into darkness. Suddenly, she wasn’t ready to follow these men wherever they took her, despite their vows to protect her.

“What are we doing? Where are we going?”

Jackson gently gripped her chin and lifted her head until she looked him in the eye. “We’re keeping you safe. Gish built this tunnel for situations like this. The men who hurt him are here for you. We will take them down, but first, we’re getting you the hell out of here. Follow Luke. Ben and I are right behind you.”

A loud bang and what sounded like shattering wood caused Reagan to jump. She scrambled down the steps, praying she didn’t trip as she went. Once she reached the bottom, she was surprised to see fluorescent lights illuminating the path. Luke barely spared her a glance before he took off down the path, leaving Reagan to follow.

When they reached the end, she wasn’t surprised to see a ladder leading up to another trap door. What surprised her was how far away from the bar they were when they emerged. Luke moved along the side of a building and peered around the corner. He looked for only a moment before his already stoic expression hardened in displeasure.

Knowing Jackson and Ben were close behind her, she moved before Luke could stop her and peered around the same corner, careful to keep her body shielded from sight.

Two dark SUVs were parked outside the bar with shadowy figures milling around. She caught the glint of moonlight bouncing off metal, and her blood froze in her veins. Men dressed all in black carrying guns scrambled around to search for her with the intent to kill her. Seeing for herself, not just hearing it from the boys, was enough to terrify her.

A hand gripped her arm to pull her back, but she twisted out of the grasp. A door to one of the SUVs popped open, the car’s interior light beaming like the sun against the dark night. That and the lone streetlamp casting an eerie glow fell on the face of the man who emerged.

Dressed in a suit, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead, his deeply tanned skin and broad frame feeling familiar, Reagan’s breath caught in her throat when he turned his face briefly into the light.

“Oh my God!”

The whispered words barely escaped her lips before she was jerked back and propelled forward to a waiting truck. With Jackson behind the wheel, Ben and Luke pushed her into the passenger seat and gave Jackson the signal to speed from the bar before she could tell the boys what she saw.

Chapter Nine

I’m putting this in a book.

The random thought skittered across her brain, almost making her laugh aloud. Even in danger and running for her life with her estranged father having a dangerous surgery, she was working. The story ideas never stopped coming.

The safe house Jackson had driven her to resembled one she would describe a serial killer living in: a wooden shack with a front porch that looked too fragile to hold their weight, shutters hiding the windows, and a yard which was more dirt than grass. The safe house sat on a steep hill at the end of a winding driveway which appeared more like a walking trail than something for motor vehicles. Towering pine trees lined the driveway, creating a spooky vibe fit for a haunted house at Halloween.

When she saw the shack, her imagination conjured up pictures of rats competing with bugs to overtake the inside, rustic furniture covered in sheets of dust which could never be swiped away, and water that ran from the faucet in sporadic rivulets of rust and mud.

Why am I trusting these people when they keep bringing me to places like this?

Jackson parked and stepped from the truck, but Reagan wasn’t ready to get out. The drive to the shack had been long, and she had zoned out. She couldn’t recall any of the routes or turns they’d taken. She hadn’t noticed any landmarks. She wouldn’t be able to find her way back to Trinity Medical Center without help from a GPS. She was alone with a man she’d known less than twenty-four hours, and he happened to be the chosen son of the father who abandoned her. She should be frightened. She should be trying to escape.

Instead she sat very still. She replayed what happened at the bar in her mind over and over. After a while, she questioned whether she was sure about what she saw. She wondered if she should tell Jackson but couldn’t bring herself to do it. One thing was certain — there was more going on here than she knew, and it was time she was brought out of the dark.

Jackson stomped onto the porch before turning in her direction. She could feel his stare piercing through the dark, questioning why she didn’t follow him. If he could read her mind, he wouldn’t want her to follow. As late as it was, it was time for Jackson to give her answers, whether he wanted to or not.

She emerged from the truck deliberately. Taking her time, she slid the strap of the duffel over her shoulder. She adjusted her shirt and made a show of smoothing the jeans which were rumpled from the drive. She could almost feel his annoyance at how slow she moved, and she had to bite back a satisfied smile. She wanted him to be annoyed. She wanted to be the reason his control of the situation was shaken.

By the time she joined him by the door, his hands had curled into fists, and his right foot tapped an uneven rhythm against the wooden planks of the porch. She stared at him expectedly, her gaze flitting from him to the door.

“Well?” She paused. “Are we going inside, or aren’t we?”

He glared. She grinned. The moment was just what she wanted. If he was annoyed with her now, he would be more so when she started her questioning. He had made a point to tell her only what she needed to know, but that was going to change. She was getting her answers, even if it meant pushing him to the fringes of his control.

Jackson shoved a key into the doorknob first and then the dead bolt. She heard the locks release before he stepped to the right, motioning for her to move inside. Reagan crossed the threshold and jerked to a stop, her jaw dropping.

For all of the dilapidated signs she noticed outside, none of it translated to the interior of what she had thought was a shack. Shiny hardwood floors, luxurious seating, and brilliant lighting made her feel as if she’d crossed the threshold into a parallel universe.