The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery
know if that piece of information made her feel better or worse. She shrugged. At this point, she couldn’t afford to be picky.
Working quickly, he put his fatigues in his backpack. He transferred money and a mean-looking knife to his shorts pocket, then dropped the backpack into the trunk and closed it.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Andie nodded and picked up Bobby. Instead of letting him climb into the back seat, she sat down and pulled him onto her lap. Just in case, she thought. She wanted to be able to run with him, if she had to. Despite the fact Jeff hadn’t taken her to Kray, she still didn’t trust him.
Jeff slipped in beside her and started the engine. He pulled the Jeep in a tight circle, then headed toward the road. As they drove out of the brush, she held her breath, afraid that Kray’s men would be waiting. There was no one on the side of the road. Just her rental sitting in the shade.
He stopped long enough for her to drive it back into his vehicle’s hiding place; then he glanced both ways and hit the gas. They took off toward town.
Andie fought the urge to glance behind them. With the Jeep’s open top and low doors, she felt as if they were completely exposed. That as soon as they were spotted, they would be gunned down.
Violent pictures filled her mind. Not just her wild images about what Kray would do to her if he caught her, but ugly memories from six years ago. From the moment when the pieces had clicked into place and she’d realized her husband wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be.
“Just a couple more hours and you’ll be safe,” Jeff said. “Once you get off the island, you’ll be okay. When you get back to the States, you’re going to have to lay low.”
She nodded. She already knew that much. She had money stashed in a couple of safety deposit boxes in different cities. After Kray had stolen Bobby, it had taken her three weeks to figure out parental kidnapping wasn’t high on anyone’s list of crimes to be solved. Especially when the father in question had taken his son out of the country. Once she’d realized no one was going to help her, she’d come up with her own plan and had quickly put it into action. Ironically, the generous settlement Kray had given her at the time of the divorce would pay for her escape from him.
Bobby leaned back against her and closed his eyes. “You tired, honey?” she asked.
“Nope.”
But his eyelids fluttered shut. She couldn’t blame him. After the morning they’d had, she was exhausted, as well. She wished she could trust someone enough to watch Bobby so she could curl up and sleep for a week, but she couldn’t. She only had herself to depend on.
“There’s a private airstrip north of town,” Jeff said quietly, a few minutes later. “Is that the one you’re going to use?”
Andie glanced at him. He slowed the Jeep and met her gaze. Dark blue eyes, almost the color of her own, stared back at her. His lashes were thick and only a couple of shades darker than his hair, although the tips were lighter, as if they’d been bleached by the sun. He squinted slightly and lines fanned out to his temples.
He was good-looking enough to be the poster boy for the local tourist commission. Come to St. Lucas and find romance. Only, she wasn’t looking for romance, and from what she’d seen of Jeff, he wasn’t too fond of her. She wondered how much of that was because she was obviously in over her head and how much was because she was Kray’s ex-wife. Did it matter? As long as he helped her get away, he could think what he liked.
“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “I’m supposed to meet a pilot there named Michael.”
“How will you know him?”
She wrinkled her nose. “He has a tattoo of a snake on his left wrist.”
“That should inspire confidence.”
She smiled. “I’ll admit I would feel better if it had been of a flying creature rather than one that slithers. But he didn’t ask any questions.”
Jeff returned his attention to the narrow dirt road. “That doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“I know.”
“Do you have a story prepared?”
“Yes.”
“You want to try it out on me?”
“Not really.”
He chuckled. “Good.”
She stared at him. He was smiling. Honest to God smiling. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing. It’s good that you’ve already learned not to trust anyone unless you have to. At least you’re not as dumb—” His lips straightened.
“As I look,” she finished for him. “Thanks for the compliment.”
She was twenty-seven years old. She should be used to it by now. The average male assumed pretty equaled stupid. No doubt from Jeff’s perspective, her coming to Kray’s island and kidnapping Kray’s only son by herself did seem pretty stupid. So what? Kray hadn’t caught her yet.
Andie stared out the passenger side, watching the tropical trees and vines give way to flatter plowed fields. Her eyes burned. She told herself it was fatigue and the wind, nothing else.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Jeff said abruptly.
“Forget it.”
“It was just a knee-jerk reaction.”
“I’ll accept the ‘jerk’ part of the apology.”
“I guess I am, huh?” The Jeep slowed to a stop.
She turned and looked at him. He angled himself toward her, resting his left forearm over the steering wheel. Bobby murmured softly in his sleep. Andie shifted him so her legs wouldn’t go numb.
She studied Jeff’s short haircut, the lines of weariness around his eyes, the firm set of his jaw. She wanted to look lower, but she was suddenly aware of the fact that his loose tank top and shorts left very little of his lean, tanned body to the imagination.
Something flickered in her belly. Horror filled her as she realized it was attraction. Unnecessary, unwelcome, ill-timed attraction. Oh, God, not now.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“Nobody you want to know.”
She was willing to believe that.
“There’s a road to the airport that goes around the town. We can avoid most of the city. We’ll take that.”
“Fine with me.”
He reached his right hand toward her face. He was going to touch her. She didn’t know whether or not to bolt or lean forward. Bobby prevented her from doing the former and panic from acting on the latter. So she simply stayed still as he touched a loose strand of hair.
“People are going to remember this,” he said, then frowned and turned back to the road.
“Am I expected to cut it off?” she asked.
“We don’t have to be that extreme. There’ll be several carts selling things for the tourists just outside the city. I’ll get something there to help disguise you.”
“But I’m going to be getting on a plane in a couple of hours. No one’s going to see me but you and the pilot.”
“Exactly,” Jeff said, pausing to read signs at a crossroads, then turning left. “Better for all of us if the pilot can’t describe you in detail.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that.
Jeff drove through the narrow streets, careful to keep within the speed limit. As they neared the city, three-and four-story buildings rose up on either side. Wide wrought-iron balconies jutted out several feet above the ground. The architecture dated back to the first Spanish explorers, but its