Page 18 of Capturing You

Technically, at the moment,hewas inherway.

“Thank you for your help.” She hefted her bag over her shoulder, a signal that she was ready.

He spun and led her to the front door—and then past it. Down a hallway, around a corner, until they were back in the living room.

He opened the hidden basement door and descended the stairs into darkness.

Not total darkness, she realized as she followed. The bulb he’d lit earlier was still on.

He stopped beside the wooden staircase that led to the exterior door. “Cross the lawn to the front corner. You should be able to get through the hedge there. Stay in the woods until you reach where you parked.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She started to pass, but he stepped into her path.

Unlike when they’d first been in this scary, dank place, she wasn’t afraid of him.

“You don’t have to leave. I’d rather… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine.”

A moment passed.

And then he shifted, and she marched up the stairs and outside, where the morning sun hit her face.

She turned to him. “Thank you for everything.”

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.

She had no idea what he’d planned to say, but it didn’t matter.

Lenny was coming. She needed to leave.

She stepped outside into a yard she assumed used to be beautiful, though it was nothing but weeds and dandelions, their cheerful yellow flowers waving in the breeze coming off the Atlantic.

Brooklynn avoided the driveway flanked near the road by two stone pillars, jogging toward the tall hedge that separated the property from the road and the neighbors.

She couldn’t be more than two hundred feet from her Bronco. She just had to get there without being seen.

Easy peasy.

She pushed through the thick bushes, moving slowly, thanks to the prickly branches that grabbed her clothes, her backpack.

Before stepping out, she peered along the road, then into the woods. Fear had her wanting to bolt to her car, but caution dictated she be sure nobody was out there.

She didn’t move, just watched for movement, for anything.

But all was quiet.

She was just about to step out when she heard a car. Maybe it’d be safer to go when a car was driving by. Witnesses would keep her safe.

Unless that was the smugglers.

She backed into the prickly hedge.

A black car drove past, going more slowly than the thirty-five mile-per-hour speed limit.

The car had no plates.

Acid pooled in her stomach.