Читать книгу Undercover Passion - Melinda Di Lorenzo - Страница 15

Chapter 4

Liz’s ears rang. Her eyes watered and her leg felt like it was on fire. Her head spun. And the world around her seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Plates spinning and wobbling.

A spice rack in pieces, green and brown particles settling among the shards of glass.

But in spite of it all, the only thing Liz could think about was Teegan. Where was her daughter? Still in her room? Was she hurt?

Oh, God. Please don’t let her be hurt.

Liz tried to stand, but the pain—seemingly everywhere now—made her stumble. She wanted to cry. Not from the way she hurt, but from the sudden certainty that under the circumstances, she might not be able to reach her daughter in time. She wouldn’t be able to protect her from whatever threat had just rocked their little apartment.

Maybe if I crawl...

But she no sooner dragged herself forward an inch than dizziness struck. The room swam, and her arms slipped, and her head started to slide toward the ground. She braced for impact. Thankfully, before it could come, a warm, rough hand landed on her shoulder and pulled her back. It only took her a second to clue in.

Harley.

Relief surged through her as he lifted her from the ground. Something told her he’d know what to do. So she let herself exhale as he pressed her body to his wide chest and carried her from her spot on the ground across the room.

Then panic hit again.

Across the room. No. That was wrong.

“Teegan!” Her gasp sounded far away and waterlogged.

His voice, on the other hand, was low and rumbly, and right in her ear. “On it already, sweetheart.”

Liz breathed out, and the world seemed to speed up again as Harley put her down and grabbed a hold of the small kitchen table, tilting it on its side right in front of her.

“Stay there,” he ordered, sounding far more in charge than Liz would’ve been able to manage. “I’ll grab the kid. If someone comes in, play dead. I won’t be more than a heartbeat away.”

Liz nodded her understanding. Partly because she couldn’t form any words, and partly because Harley darted away so quickly that she wouldn’t have had time anyway.

Play dead.

The only reason the frightening possibility didn’t render her completely useless was that her mind was preoccupied with her daughter. She needed to hold on to some semblance of sanity. But it felt like a lifetime was passing as she waited. Had passed already. Liz knew that in reality it’d only been a minute. Maybe less. The proof was in Harley’s phone. The black device had flown off the table, and it now sat on the floor, propped against the bottom of the stove. She could see that there was still almost a minute left on the countdown, and the pre-bang conversation had to have lasted for at least fifteen minutes.

But knowing just how short a time had actually passed did nothing to ease Liz’s sense of urgency. She itched to get up and make her way toward the hall that led to Teegan’s bedroom, and fixing her gaze on the doorway instead seemed like a shoddy substitute for action.

Please hurry.

She had to trust that Harley would be successful in retrieving her. He was stronger than she was. Obviously not as scared.

But he’s not her mother.

The thought spurred her to try to push up from the ground, but pain shot up her leg once again. And a glance down told her why. An inch-long gash in her jeans glared up at her. Crimson liquid oozing out a slash in the denim. It looked bad. Maybe not deadly, but definitely stitch-worthy.

Wincing at the way it hurt, she reached across the floor and grabbed a wayward tea towel. She balled up the fabric and shoved it into the cut in her jeans to stanch the flow of blood. Thankfully, the bit of counterpressure offered a small amount of pain relief, too. She breathed out and gripped the edge of the table.

“Liz.”

At the sound of her name, she dragged her gaze up, and her whole body sagged with relief. Harley stood at the edge of the room, one hand grasping Teegan’s and the other holding her favorite purple backpack. Liz’s throat constricted. Her daughter looked tiny beside the big man. An odd mix of safe and vulnerable at the same time.

Liz very nearly wanted to weep. And when Teegan disentangled herself from Harley’s grip and launched herself across the room and into her arms, a few unstoppable tears managed to squeeze through. But not many. Harley was quick to remind her that she didn’t have time to give in to the strong emotion.

“We need to move,” he said. “If whatever that bang was started a fire, we only have minutes to get out.”

“Right. Okay.”

She gave her daughter a squeeze, then let her go, and braced herself for the pain of standing up. Sure enough, the fire bit into her thigh. But she refused to give in. She held her leg stiffly and raised her eyes to meet Harley’s gaze.

“What’re we waiting for?”

His stare dropped down. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s just a cut.”

“So prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove you’re fine. Walk from there to here.”

“I—” She bit her lip.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

He stepped forward, and she prepared for him to offer an arm. She bit her lip and pushed her pride aside. She’d lean on Harley—literally—if that meant getting her daughter to safety. She turned her face toward him to admit she’d need assistance. But she didn’t have to say it. Harley was already at her side, already bending down to scoop her up from the ground like she weighed nothing. It felt embarrassingly good to be cradled against his broad chest.

“You don’t have to carry me,” Liz protested, wiggling a little.

“I don’t have to,” Harley agreed. “But in the interest of expediency...”

“What’s expediency?” Teegan piped up.

“Getting somewhere faster than a snail can,” Harley replied easily.

“I think you should let him carry you, Mom,” Teegan said.

“Two against one,” he added.

“All right,” he said, directing his words down to Teegan in a far more enthusiastic tone than Liz would’ve been able to manage. “Our mission is to get out. It might not be easy, but I have faith we can do it. What about you?”

Teegan nodded. “Me, too.”

“Okay. You have to carry the bag, take the rear flank and protect us from back there. Oh. And hold on to the bottom of my shirt so you don’t get left behind,” Harley instructed.

“Got it!” Liz’s daughter agreed, her small hand coming out to clutch tightly to the dark-haired man’s clay-covered T-shirt.

But they only made it as far as opening the door a crack.

Acrid smoke was creeping up from the bottom of the stairs, blocking the escape route.

Harley stepped back into the apartment quickly, Teegan still clutching his shirt and Liz still held firmly against his chest.

He silently cursed the fact that he’d let his guard down long enough to not predict that something was about to happen. He’d known something was wrong. He was sure it had something to do with both the hooded man and Jesse Garibaldi. It was the whole reason he’d been so eager to stay for dinner. Yet he hadn’t pursued it. Hadn’t pushed Liz to tell him what she knew, when he knew perfectly well that was exactly what he should’ve done.

But you had time to kiss her.

He growled silently at himself for his weakness.

Even now, as he carried Liz up the hall and toward the kitchen, her ample curves fit against him in the most distracting way possible. That hint of floral perfume swirled up and filled his nose, making him want to draw in a deep breath after deep breath. The way he held her meant the soft skin on the inside of her arm stayed pressed firmly to the back of his hand.

It was both a relief and a regret to set her down.

It made him irritated at himself. Not because it took away from his ability to do his job—though maybe that should’ve been more of a factor than it was—but because it hampered him in keeping Teegan and Liz safe. He’d let down his guard, and now they were in danger.

They were just lucky that whoever set off the explosion hadn’t come upstairs first.

Or maybe luck has nothing to do with it. Maybe the culprits just didn’t care what happened after.

After all, he knew from experience that Garibaldi had a thing for using pipe bombs to cover his tracks. It was what had started this whole quest for justice to start out with. What killed his father.

“Harley?”

Liz’s small, worried voice drew him back to the moment and reminded him that he didn’t have time for heavy musings.

“What do we do?” she asked.

“We come up with a plan B,” he said. “Find another way out.”

Five minutes had gone by already. Any second, the fire could make its way up. It was a little surprising that heat and smoke hadn’t already permeated the apartment, really.

He needed to think. Fast.

Teegan tugged on his shirt, and he turned his attention her way, trying his damnedest to stay patient. The kid had a solemn expression on her face, and her finger extended toward the hall.

“What’s up, monkey?” Harley asked.

Her little blond head swiveled toward her mom, then back to Harley. “Promise not to get mad?”

“I won’t get mad,” he assured her.

“Not you,” said Teegan. “Mom.”

Harley flicked a raised-brow look toward Liz, who shook her head.

“I won’t get mad,” she said. “But just be warned that the last time she asked for that promise, she’d cut all of her socks into dresses for her dolls.”

“We’ll take our chances.” Harley smiled at Teegan. “Tell us.”

“You know the big tree outside?” the kid replied, still nervous. “The one I climb all the time?”

“Sure do,” said Harley. “Heritage oak.”

Teegan’s confession came out in a rush. “It has a big branch that goes all the way to my mom’s window. And I climbed up. And there’s a flower-thing under the window. But I stood on the flower-thing, and I could see into the window, so I think you could get out that way, too.” She paused. “Are you mad?”

“Not right now,” Liz said. “But I can’t promise I won’t be grounding you later. Do not climb up that high. Ever again.”

“Ever again after we’ve climbed down today,” Harley amended. “Show us.”

“Okay.”

Helping Liz up and supporting her as they moved, Harley followed the girl down the hall to the bedroom. Once inside, he helped Liz to the edge of the bed, then stepped over to examine the potential escape route. Teegan stood close beside him, pointing at the places she’d described just a few moments earlier.

Harley nodded his appreciation. He could see the potential. It might not be the easiest thing for Liz with her injury, but it beat the alternative of fighting through smoke and flames.

He reached out, unlatched the lock on the window, carefully removed the screen and surveyed what he could see of the outside. The thick branches blocked a large portion of the view, but a glance down and to the side made him frown. He could just see the back end of what appeared to be a white panel van. If he had to guess, he’d say it was just about lined up perfectly with the rear door of Liz’s Lovely Things.

And there’s no smoke.

He leaned out to get a better look, pretending to examine the stability of the tree’s branches. He still saw nothing.

What did it mean? And what was the vehicle doing there? Harley knew for a fact that Liz didn’t accept after-hours deliveries. He felt sure that if she’d made an exception for this particular evening, it would’ve come up in conversation.

Hell. She let me know last week when she ordered a pizza because she worried about the door startling me.

He stared out the window, frowning even harder. Even if someone was at the store for a legitimate reason, why would they be going in instead of out?

The bottom line was that he couldn’t reason through all of it. And that was saying something. His powers of deduction weren’t exactly subpar.

Unless there is no fire.

The thought made no sense. Except it also made perfect sense.

“Is everything okay?” Liz asked.

He pulled himself back into the room and decided to go with the most obvious observation. “We can’t climb down.”

“We can’t?” she replied, pushing to her feet a little unsteadily. “Why?”

He looked from her to Teegan, then opted for the truth. “There’s someone—maybe more than one someone—down there.”

“A bad guy?” Teegan asked.

“Well, hopefully not. But I’m not sure we can chance it.”

Teegan sucked in her lower lip in a thoughtful way that made her look an awful lot like her mother, then shrugged a little. “We could go up instead.”

“Up?” Harley repeated.

“To the roof,” she told him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Have you climbed to the roof before?” Liz’s voice was full of worry.

Blond curls bounced a negative. “No. Well. Not on the tree. But a bit up the ladder on the other side. Not all the way, though. But there’s some awesome branches there. I don’t think any bad guys could see us ’cause of the leaves. And the tree’s really strong.”

“Could that work?” Liz asked.

Harley took another look outside. He could see that a few bigger branches curved together overhead, forming a U-shaped bowl that stopped just a few feet from the roof.

“I think it could,” he confirmed.

“Think?” Liz repeated.

He started to amend “think” to a much firmer “know,” but before he could get the words out, a thump and a rattle from out in the apartment told him time had run out, and not in the form of fire.

Someone was breaking in.

Liz’s heart thumped so hard that it hurt. Her gaze flicked around, rapid fire. Teegan. The bedroom door. Harley. Teegan again. But in spite of the rapid movement of both eyes and her pulse, her feet seemed glued to the spot.

She urged herself to move, wondering when she’d become so good at being a damsel in distress.

Maybe since something exploded in your store a few minutes ago?

She shook the sarcasm and the inaction off, stepping toward her daughter. Harley was moving, too, with surprising stealth for a man of his size. He strode smoothly to the door, closed it with no more than a whisper of a sound, then turned to Liz. He put his index finger to his lips, shook his head once and gestured to the window. Liz nodded her understanding. She took a breath and started to lift Teegan. But she’d forgotten about her leg. The tiny bit of pressure made her bite down so hard to keep from crying out that she tasted blood.

Harley was there in an instant. He scooped Teegan up, carried her to the window and placed her on the sill.

Liz’s throat closed a little as she watched her daughter step out. But another noise out in the main area of her apartment, followed by what sounded like a muffled voice, made her sure it was better than the alternative. Harley was already back by her side, anyway. He slid his hand—warm, big and reassuringly solid—to her waist and helped her limp over to the window, then through it.

As she stepped into the cool air, she took a shaky breath, her eyes fixed on the spot where she stepped. A small modicum of relief hit her. The platform below—the “flower-thing,” as Teegan had called it—was actually a two-foot wide ledge. Maybe it was designed to hold window boxes, but it was definitely not some flimsy little jut. She lifted her gaze and sought her daughter. Teegan stood to the side, her pose relaxed. Like standing on the side of a two-story building was the most normal thing in the world. She even smiled enthusiastically and offered a little wave as she caught sight of Liz. The height clearly didn’t bother her tree-climbing daughter.

Liz breathed out, closed the gap between her and Teegan, then swiveled her attention back to the window. Harley was making his way out now, too. He paused to get his footing and set Teegan’s backpack down on the ledge, then reached into the house. For a second, Liz was puzzled. Then she saw the screen in his hands. Carefully, he lifted it up and positioned it in the frame. There was a slight click as it found its place, and not a breath later, the sound of the bedroom door opening.

Harley spun. He stepped closer, then pushed himself flush against the brick exterior of the building. Liz followed suit, grasping her daughter’s hand to encourage her to do the same. She no sooner had Teegan’s palm pressed into her own than she felt Harley reach for her on the other side. His fingers threaded between hers and squeezed.

A near-hysterical laugh bubbled just under the surface as Liz imagined what the neighbors would think if they spotted them up there. But the laugh died before it ever made its way out. Two men’s voices came from inside the bedroom, close enough that it was easy to distinguish between the two. And the conversation made Liz shiver.

“Looks like the whole place is clear,” said the first man. Then he paused and added, “Where the hell did they go, though? Awfully late to be out running around on a school night.”

The second man was dismissive. “Who knows? Maybe they ran out of milk. Maybe the lady had a hot date and dropped the daughter with a sitter. I can’t pretend to know a damn thing about what it means to have a kid. Nor do I want to.”

The first man chuckled. “Amen to that.”

There was another pause, followed by the sound of feet crossing the floor, and the first man spoke again.

“Window’s open,” he said.

His words were so loud that they might as well have been spoken in Liz’s ear. She had a sudden feeling that if she turned her head and leaned forward to see around Harley, she’d be able to see the speaker. Which meant that if he turned, he’d be able to see them, too. Her hand tightened on Harley’s, and his thumb stroked soothingly over her knuckles. She willed herself to stay calm. Prayed for Teegan’s continued silence. And was utterly thankful for Harley’s presence.

“It’s a nice night,” said the second man after a moment, his voice just as clear but less suspicious. “Probably wanted the fresh air.”

“Wanted the fresh air, but went out?” There was more than a hint of doubt in the question.

“C’mon, man. She probably just forgot to close it.”

“I dunno. What if she smelled the smoke and was trying to get away?”

“You think a woman smelled smoke, took her kid out a second-story window, put the screen on, then didn’t call the cops about the smoke?”

The first man let out a rough guffaw. “Okay. When you put it like that, I just sound—Hey. What the hell is that?”

“What?” said the second man.

Liz tensed.

“There’s a car down there.” The first man sounded worried.

“A car?” repeated the second. “Where?”

“Right through the tree. A white—Dammit. That’s not a car. It’s a van. Someone’s in the store.”

The second man dropped a responding string of curses that made Liz cringe on behalf of her daughter. But her concern only lasted for a few moments before relief took over. Because judging by the quick, heavy footfalls, the two men were leaving at a run. When she couldn’t hear them anymore, she pulled Teegan in for a sideways hug and sagged against the wall, tears threatening.