Unfinished: A Small Town, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Suspense (Amber Ridge Book 6), page 17
But now, thirteen years later, she was still doing it—running from the good in her life.
She could. She would.
She threw off the sheets and climbed out of bed. The creak of the floorboard was loud in the quiet room, and the darkness made a shudder course down her spine.
She grabbed her phone and left her bedroom. She only wore an oversized shirt, but she didn’t bother to pull on sweats or shoes. She lifted both the keys to her apartment and Zane’s from the hall table.
The only moment she questioned her decision was when she stepped into the empty hall. It was late. Or early, depending on which way you looked at it. Two-in-the-morning kind of early.
Quickly, she locked her apartment and jogged to Zane’s door. It wasn’t until she’d stepped inside and locked the door after her that she breathed a sigh of relief and felt that this was the right decision. It slipped through her entire body and felt warm and safe.
Then, she padded down the hall.
She wasn’t sure why she’d expected to find him asleep. He was a former Army Ranger. Of course he’d woken the second she’d opened the door.
He lowered the gun back to the drawer. “Bonnie. What’s wrong?”
Without a word, she crossed the room, set her phone and the keys on his bedside table, and pulled back the sheets. But she didn’t slip into bed beside him. She climbed right on top of him, her entire body covering his. Then she laid her cheek on his chest, his heart thumping loudly beneath her ear. “It was a bad idea.”
“What was?”
“Sleeping separately. I want to be here with you.”
There was a moment of pause, when he didn’t move. And she almost wondered if she was alone in this realization.
But then he grabbed the sheets and pulled them over both of them. His strong arms wrapped around her, making her feel immediately safe. “I want you here too.”
That last bit of tightness eased from her chest and she breathed him in, his earthy scent filling her. It was crazy how one person’s scent could become so familiar so quickly.
“I’m sorry I ran earlier today,” she whispered, the frustration bleeding out of her. Frustration in herself. In the decisions she’d made in her life. “It’s my crutch. It’s what I do when things get hard.”
“You run, I follow, Bon. Always.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
His blue eyes seared into her, so intense. “You think there’s anywhere else I’d rather be?”
Her heart gave one of those giant thumps. The kind you felt from your head down to your toes.
Just like in her apartment, he lifted his mouth and kissed her forehead. “Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
She lowered her head back to his chest and closed her eyes, letting the strong beats of his heart lull her to sleep.
CHAPTER 23
Monty Cruz leaned his head back against the wall of the van, the low rumble of the engine vibrating beneath him. Two prisoners sat to his left and one to his right. There were more on the other side of the partition.
Nine in total. Everyone knew what was about to go down. There were others involved. The DOC Correctional Transport Officer. A couple more paid on the outside. The prison warden had been the hardest to get onboard. But even that was easier than it should have been.
He bit back a laugh. People were so fucking easy. Flash a few dollars in front of them and they fell at his fucking feet.
The best part though? Zane wouldn’t see this coming. It would hit him square in the fucking face—and Monty would enjoy every second of it. He’d waited long enough to get his revenge after what that asshole had taken from him. Too damn long.
Monty had given him everything. A new life in the UFC that came with money and freedom and the opportunity to fuck any bitch he wanted. And the one time Monty needed him, he hadn’t been there. No, instead of helping him cover up Sasha’s death, Zane had done everything he could to make sure he was locked away.
A familiar rage clawed at his insides, climbing up his throat like bile.
Well, cousin, your time is coming, and it’s coming soon.
Jeremiah tapped his foot beside Monty. The guy was just as excited. Maybe more. But then, he had a kid and a woman at the shelter in Amber Ridge. He’d probably kill her. Monty didn’t give a fuck what the guy did. As long as he fulfilled his end of things today.
He couldn’t see outside, but he knew the exact moment the van hit the dirt road. The ride changed from quiet and smooth to loud and bumpy.
They were close.
Jeremiah’s breathing quickened, like he was so fucking excited he couldn’t hold it together. The guy would probably get himself caught or killed within the first day. Again, not Monty’s problem. His plan was too perfectly laid out to care. Although, he might use a couple of them later on.
The bang of a gun being fired sounded from the front of the van.
The energy in the van changed, the guys sitting a bit straighter. The air felt thicker.
Monty didn’t so much as smile. He wouldn’t smile until he was out.
The van stopped. A few seconds later, the back doors opened and the transport officer stood on the other side. He didn’t look nervous. He looked excited. Apparently, offering him a million dollars to pull this off made a guy excited about shooting a colleague and freeing felons.
He pulled Jeremiah from the van, then Monty. Monty was uncuffed first. The moment Jeremiah was free—the first fucking second—he grabbed the pistol from the officer’s belt.
The officer’s eyes widened. “Hey, what are you—”
Jeremiah shot the officer in the forehead.
And that was why Monty needed the guy. Well…that, and to free everyone else while he got the hell out of there and make sure every one of them headed to Amber Ridge.
They should anyway. Because they knew that if they didn’t, every person they loved on the outside was at risk.
Jeremiah grabbed keys from the dead CTO. As he started uncuffing everyone, Monty jogged toward the mountains, the cool air slipping over his skin.
Fuck, this air tasted better than the stale shit he’d breathed in prison.
It didn’t take long to find the go car. The one the CTO had arranged for himself.
The key was affixed behind the back tire. Monty grabbed it and opened the trunk to find spare clothes. Quickly, he changed and tossed the orange jumpsuit behind a tree.
It was only when he climbed behind a wheel that he let the first smile curve his lips.
He’d done it. He was free. The officers were dead. There would be nine felons free, causing chaos in the small town of Amber Ridge. Murderers. Thieves. They’d be one huge fucking distraction while he did what he had to do.
Thank fuck for money. It bought allies. Freedom. And eventually, it would buy him revenge.
Zane stepped out of The Pit, sunlight hitting his eyes as he walked down the street.
It had only been a week since that mess after the call from Monty, but the second he’d made things right with Bonnie, he’d decided he wasn’t letting that asshole get into his head. It was what Monty wanted. Exactly why Zane wasn’t giving it to him.
He lifted his phone and texted her.
Zane: How’s your day been, Bon?
It was midafternoon, which meant they were both almost done. Bonnie was meeting him at the gym after work, and fuck, he was excited to see her. He was always excited to see her. Being with her, he actually felt normal and good and alive for the first time in over a year.
Bonnie: It’s been okay.
Zane: Uh-oh. What’s wrong?
Bonnie: I don’t know. I’ve just had this bad feeling all day, like something’s going to happen. And there’s been this strange heaviness around the shelter.
He stopped outside The Tea House.
Zane: You think it has something to do with Carlos?
Jesse hadn’t been able to find anything linking Carlos to the dead fucking mouse incident. Nothing. Just like the night Bonnie had been shoved against the building, he had an alibi, but this time he’d been with his wife. The same wife who’d sent that god-awful text to Bonnie.
Shit, he hated that family.
Bonnie: No. This feels different. I’m probably being silly. There are a lot of big emotions in the shelter today. You still want me to come to The Pit after work?
Zane: Come anytime.
Bonnie: I’ve only got a couple of hours to go. I’ll see you soon.
Nothing felt soon enough. He wanted eyes on her all the time, and he didn’t care if that was normal or not.
He stepped inside The Tea House, spotting Jesse at a table to the side of the room. He sat with his brother, Becket, and best friend, Holden. When the guys saw him, they waved. Zane dipped his head before stepping up to the counter.
Mrs. Gerald hung up the phone and faced him, brows tugged together. “Hi, Zane.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Um. I’m not sure. That was one of my girls. She was supposed to come in for the last couple hours of the day to do the close, but on her way here, she found a man on the side of the road. He was unconscious and naked.”
The fuck? “Like, someone beat him up and took his clothes?”
“That’s what it sounded like.”
“Jesse’s over there if you want to talk to him.”
“She’s called the sheriff’s station, but yes, I might mention it to Jesse too.” Another worker called the shop owner over. “Sorry. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Who the hell would beat someone up and take their clothes? Especially in this town.
He looked over at Jesse to see the three guys already heading his way.
“Hey. Everything okay?” Jesse asked.
“Mrs. Gerald just got a report that some guy was beaten up and his clothes were taken.”
Jesse’s head reared back. “Just now?”
“Apparently.”
“Here in Amber Ridge?” Becket asked.
“Yeah.”
Jesse pulled his cell from his pocket just as it started ringing. “It’s the station. Maybe that’s what they’re calling about.” He put the phone to his ear. “Sheriff Hayes speaking.” His eyes flared. “What?” There was a small pause. “How many?” Another pause, then Jesse cursed. “We need to call in everyone currently off duty, then I want everyone out on patrol in pairs, keeping an eye out for escapees.”
Zane’s pulse sped up. “Escapees?”
“There was a prisoner transfer from Montana State Prison. Contact was lost with the transport officers, and the van was just found in the mountains, here in Amber Ridge.” Jesse met his gaze. “Both transport officers are dead and the van’s empty.”
Zane flinched like someone had hit him.
“How many inmates?” Becket asked through gritted teeth.
“Nine.”
“Do you know any of the inmates’ names?” Zane asked quietly.
Jesse shook his head. “No. I’ve got to get to the station.”
“I’m coming with you,” Becket said.
“Me too,” Holden agreed, following them out.
Zane’s cell rang, Ethan’s name on the screen.
And he knew. He fucking knew exactly what was about to be said. He almost didn’t want to answer because that would make it real. “Ethan—”
“They transferred them early.” Air blew over the line. “He’s out, Zane. Monty’s in Amber Ridge.”
There it was. The confirmation he hadn’t wanted. And the start of his nightmare.
Ethan kept talking. About the other prisoners who were in the van. About driving to Amber Ridge to help find and contain them.
Zane was barely listening. He could only think about—only had the capacity for—one thing.
Bonnie.
“I have to go, Ethan.” He hung up and rushed out of The Tea House, hitting Bonnie’s name on his cell.
The call rang out.
Fuck.
He called again. And again, no answer.
No. This couldn’t be happening.
He started running, sprinting down the street. He didn’t even stop at The Pit to get his car. Running was faster. And he needed to get to her as quickly as possible. Because if Monty got to her first, Zane could lose the only good thing in his life.
CHAPTER 24
Bonnie’s fingers flew over the keyboard. She’d already responded to a million emails today. A lot of them about donations, but not just the monetary kind. They needed things like hygiene kits and clothing and bedding. There was also a baby here, which meant they needed diapers and formula and baby clothes. The list was extensive.
Other emails, like the one she was writing now, were about activities she was planning. She typed out the message to the women’s law center, which would be giving them a Zoom presentation to talk about protective orders and safety planning.
She loved this stuff. Organizing meaningful, helpful activities for women and children in need. It made her feel like she was doing something important and making a small difference.
The smell of food from the Crock-Pot in the kitchen filled the air, and the TV’s background noise filtered down the hall. Even from her office she knew exactly what was on—Bluey, Chett’s favorite.
This morning, she’d arrived to him waiting with a picture he’d drawn, of her and him sitting on Bluey’s porch steps.
She smiled as she glanced at her bag on the floor, the corner of the picture poking from the opening.
Would she have a kid as cute as Chett one day?
A boy with laser-blue eyes flashed in her mind.
She blinked. Where had that come from? It was far too soon to be thinking about kids with Zane. Sure, the last week had been good—no, great. But they were still fairly new.
She’d just hit send on the email when the piercing scream of a child cut through the house, followed by the sound of breaking glass.
Bonnie shot out of her seat and raced down the hall. All the women in the living room were on their feet and staring into the kitchen, where Sarah was crouched in front of Chett, who looked terrified.
Bonnie ran over to them.
“Chett, it’s okay, darling,” Sarah said.
“No! I-I saw…” The little boy’s chest heaved, his face completely devoid of color.
She cupped his cheek. “Baby. Breathe. Tell me what you saw.”
Bonnie glanced out the window, but all she saw was the backyard.
“I saw D-dad,” Chett whispered, the words so quiet that Bonnie almost missed them.
Sarah flinched, and for a moment was completely still. Then she shook her head. “No. That’s not possible. He’s in prison.”
“I saw him!”
As Sarah spoke to her son, Bonnie inched around them, taking slow steps toward the kitchen window. She scanned the yard. The bushes. The trees. The fence that bordered the property.
He couldn’t have seen his father. Even if the guy had somehow gotten out of prison, the gate was coded. He couldn’t get in here.
She was about to turn away when she saw it—a flash of orange from behind a tree.
She stumbled back.
“Get upstairs.” Her words were quiet.
Sarah heard them. She rose, face paling. “What?”
“Get upstairs,” she repeated, louder now, almost yelling as she glanced at the women. “Everyone. Now.”
The last bit of color drained from Sarah’s face. “He…he’s really here?”
Bonnie gripped Sarah’s shoulders. “I’m not sure. Maybe. I need you to take Chett upstairs, and all of you, lock yourselves in the bedrooms. As quickly as you can.”
Another woman stepped forward. “What about you?”
“I’m going to make sure no one gets inside this house. Go. Now.”
Sarah gave her one more scared look before lifting Chett and following the women upstairs.
Bonnie’s heart thundered as she raced to the shelter phone. Shelley had left early today, which meant, for the first time since starting here, it was just her. She was the only staff member in the house.
Her fingers shook as she typed in her cousin’s number.
Jesse took so long to answer, she thought he wasn’t going to. Fear bled into her body, making her knees tremble.
She was about to hang up when—
“Bonnie, now’s not a good time.”
“I need you to get to the shelter as soon as you can.” She raced to the back door and checked the handle. Locked. Good. She put on the safety chain.
“Why?” Jesse’s voice shifted to one of urgency. “What’s wrong?”
“Sarah Parlor, one of the women here, has an ex who’s in jail for murder. Her son thinks he saw him, and I just saw someone wearing orange in the yard.”
She sprinted to the front door and checked the handle. Also locked. Again, she pulled the safety chain across just for that extra bit of protection.
Jesse cursed. “I’m coming now, Bonnie. Lock the doors. Stay safe.”
“I will.”
She hung up and ran to the living room window, where she pulled the blackout curtains across.
Stay calm, Bonnie. You’re trained for this. You’ll be okay.
But how did he even get here? The guy was supposed to be in prison, for God’s sake!
He was wearing an orange jumpsuit. That meant he’d escaped, right?
She raced to the first bedroom off the hall, checked the window, then pulled the curtains across. Then the next. She’d just reached her office when the sight of a tall man in a jumpsuit on the other side of the glass made her screech and fall back. He had dark hair and a scar on the left side of his face.
She opened her mouth to scream just as he lifted a gun and fired.
She covered her head and dropped to the floor, glass shattering around her.
A ringing sounded in her ears.
Get up, Bonnie. You need to get up.
She forced herself to move. To crawl out of the office and into the hall before stumbling to her feet. But she didn’t run up the stairs. She couldn’t lead him to the women. But she also couldn’t leave the house and desert them.
She sprinted to the kitchen and dove behind the island. She didn’t have a weapon. But all the knives were in drawers, and he’d have heard her rummaging around for them.
