The Past Between Us. Kimberly Meter Van
in exile.
Some days she couldn’t quite believe the life she was living.
But if she could put together the scattered puzzle pieces of Lionel Vissher then the whole picture of deception would become clear. At least that’s what she hoped would happen.
Her biggest fear, though, was that, even if she managed to prove that Lionel wasn’t who he said he was, no one would care and nothing would change. Lionel would continue blowing through her family’s fortune and she’d end up in prison.
A chill puckered her skin and she rubbed at her forearm. Just thinking it made her sick to her stomach.
She may have been born a spoiled princess but she’d become a soldier and she wasn’t about to let Lionel win this war.
“Sorry, Tommy,” she whispered and then pushed the thought of her childhood friend far away. She didn’t have the luxury of nostalgia.
THOMAS HURTLED DOWN the freeway, back to the city, his mind working quickly to assess the situation. He had to regroup, get his head on straight and apprehend the target. It was likely she was returning to her apartment to get whatever she’d left behind—probably the date book she’d asked about—and then she’d take off again. He wasn’t going to waste time going back to her apartment. By the time he reached the city, she’d have cleaned out her essentials and moved on, and he could expect to find his vehicle dumped somewhere. He’d already called in the theft, leaving out the part that it was his target who had stolen it. She would need transportation. The closest bus station to her apartment or her place of employment was the best bet as she’d need someplace quick and easily accessible if things got hot.
He grabbed the disposable phone he’d purchased and quickly dialed someone he trusted. Owen, his foster brother and someone he knew would keep things between them, picked up the line.
“Who is this?” Owen asked. It was nearing midnight in California but Owen was still awake, no doubt crunching numbers on some project or deal for his logging company.
“It’s me. I need a favor.”
“Tommy? What number are you calling from? You okay? You sound funny.”
“I’m fine but I have a bit of a situation I’m dealing with and lost my phone. I’m on one of those disposable things.”
“Like the ones drug dealers and pimps use so it can’t be traced back to them? Must be one helluva situation you’re in. So what’s the favor?” Owen asked, getting straight to the point. “I’ll help if I can.”
“You near a computer?”
“Yeah.”
“I need you to text me the addresses of the bus stations nearest to Gorkey and Landon Streets in New York City.”
“Going on a trip?”
“Not recreationally.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Everything’s fine.” Or at least it would be once he caught that little escape artist who had managed to make him look like a rookie and a dumb ass with one shot. “I’d do it myself but this disposable isn’t internet capable and I don’t have time to locate a computer.”
“This sounds personal,” Owen murmured, and Tommy didn’t waste time denying it even if it wasn’t exactly true. But Owen didn’t press for details, either, which was another reason Tommy picked him instead of Christian, who lived in Manhattan and was always interested in getting the dirt. “All right. Sent. Anything else?”
“No,” he answered, a short satisfied smile following as the cell dinged with an arriving text message. “That’ll do it. Thanks, man. I’ll explain later.”
“Can’t wait,” Owen returned dryly but then added, “Be safe.”
“Always.”
The line went dead and Thomas tossed the cell on the seat beside him. Both his brothers were solid guys in different ways. They didn’t share a drop of blood but Tommy knew Owen and Christian would have his back just as he would always have theirs. That’s how Mama Jo had raised them. He missed spending time with them, but the past few months had been consumed with tracking down Cassi, leaving little time to socialize and catch up. Besides, he wasn’t the only one whose personal life was submarined by the job. Christian was a bartender at some swanky place, pulling down more money a year than he was, while Owen had his hands full over in the wilds of the Santa Cruz Mountains in California trying to keep his logging company alive in an economy that had determined logging was something of a dirty word.
They’d scattered but it was rare that they didn’t connect a few times a month. And he was feeling the separation. He made a mental promise to pop in and at least say hello to Mama Jo after he dragged Cassi back to West Virginia.
He missed Mama Jo’s cooking.
And right about now he was thinking he needed one of her signature finger thumps on the back of his skull for being such a class-A idiot.
CASSI DUMPED THE CAR IN A relatively safe place so it wouldn’t get stripped overnight and then hopped a cab back to her apartment. She didn’t stroll through the front door but used the fire escape like before, only this time she did a thorough search of the place before she let her guard down. When she was certain Tommy wasn’t hiding behind a shower curtain or closet door, she gathered her essentials, including the stuffed date book and the prepaid bus ticket to Jersey and then with one last look around the small place she’d called home for such a brief time, she disappeared out the window.
With the familiar weight of her backpack against her shoulder blades and the ticket in her hand, her thoughts returned to her situation. She hadn’t exactly finished her business in New York when Tommy busted in on her but with the authorities closing in, she didn’t have a choice but to lie low for a while. She figured Jersey was a good pick since she could disappear fairly easily into Newark, due to its size. She tended to steer clear of small towns as anonymity was something she prized, and it was damn near impossible to get when everyone wanted to know your business.
She checked the time for the next bus. She had about a half hour to kill. Lucky. It could’ve been worse. Her stomach growled. Repositioning her pack, she went to the vending machine to check out what kind of toxic waste cleverly packaged as food was available. Hmm, the choices were slim. She settled for a candy bar, figuring the sugar kick might bolster her flagging energy if not help keep her focused.
For some reason she couldn’t shake the sense of guilt that shadowed her every movement. Damn Tommy. Why’d he have to be the one to come after her? If it’d been anyone else she could’ve left without a second glance or even a smidge of concern weighing her down.
She huffed a short breath and took a bite of the candy.
THOMAS SPOTTED HER STANDING in the bus station foyer, chewing slowly, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as if she were wrestling with something. She crumpled the wrapper and threw it in the trash can with a little more force than was required and the expression of consternation was replaced with resolve.
Whatever had her bothered was gone. Thomas pulled his cuffs. Time to make his move.
He moved quietly but with purpose, his eye on the target. He kept to her peripheral vision but bad luck must’ve been riding on his shoulder for she turned and they locked eyes. Panic registered in hers and she bolted.
Her long legs ate up the dirty tile, putting more distance between them, pushing past the other people waiting for the incoming charter. Desperation gave her the edge. His heart hammered with the exertion but he wasn’t about to give up. He’d chase her off a cliff if need be, but she wasn’t getting away this time.
“Freeze,” he bellowed, causing a number of people to stop and stare, but she kept going. He didn’t think it would work but it’d been worth a try. He put all his energy into narrowing the gap between them and he closed in on her. She was nearly within his grasp but she dodged just