Chasing a Dream Page 4

  “Christ.” Justin ran a hand through his hair, knocking off his Stetson, which tumbled to the floor of the backseat. “No wonder you were acting so jumpy.” He tapped his fist on the steering wheel and expelled a deep breath. “Maybe you should tell me exactly what’s going on here. Why is this guy . . . what’s his name? Randy?”

  Tess fought a wave of nausea. “Randall.”

  “Who is Randall, and why does he want you dead?”

  Several tense seconds ticked by before she answered. “He wants to keep me quiet. He’s killed before. I just found out about the other murders, and—”

  With an abrupt jerk of the steering wheel, Justin exited the interstate for a small two-lane road. She grabbed the armrest on the door to steady herself. Easing onto the narrow shoulder, he stopped the car and faced her.

  “Who is Randall?” His blue gaze bore into hers.

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. She thought of the naive girl she’d been when she’d met Randall following the loss of her family. Ironically, she’d needed his protection and the home he’d offered. Now the man who’d vowed all those years ago to help her wanted her dead.

  She filled her lungs with a reinforcing breath, fighting a swell of shame. “My husband.”

  Calling Randall her husband, the role he’d claimed without benefit of making the title legal, was easier than explaining the truth.

  A shadow crossed Justin’s face, and he closed his eyes. “Shit!”

  She jumped at the harsh sound of his curse, and a tear trickled down her cheek. “You should go

  now. I was wrong to put you in danger when I picked you up.”

  The rugged features of his face hardened, and he narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  His declaration hit her in the stomach like a fist. “But you can’t stay with me. It’s too dangerous.”

  “No way am I leaving you alone with a killer after you.” His gaze and the resolve underlying his tone brooked no resistance.

  “This isn’t your problem, Justin. I can’t let you—”

  “I’m making it my problem.”

  When she shook her head, he leaned closer and cupped her jaw in his hand. Strong but gentle, his touch sent a heady sensation spiraling through her.

  “I won’t turn my back on you. I can’t walk away. This is something I have to do. Not just for you. For me. I made a promise to Rebecca . . .” He ducked his head, and his expression grew stormy. “Look, I don’t expect you to understand. But the thing is, you’re stuck with me.” His thumb swiped at a tear clinging to her chin. “We’ll be all right, Tess. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  His words stirred a warm reassurance inside her that battled with her icy fear of Randall’s power. She wanted to believe Justin, wanted to think she might survive this nightmare.

  Searching the bright promise in his eyes, she curled her bottom lip in and worried it with her teeth. His blue gaze dropped to watch her abuse her lip. Smoky desire filled his eyes. The muscles in his jaw tightened and flexed, and he slowly lifted a finger and dragged it over the roughened skin. His breath hissed through his teeth as he caressed her chapped lips with his fingertip. When he raised his penetrating stare to meet her eyes, the air stilled in her lungs. He intended to kiss her, she knew.

  The simple idea of his kiss sent a tremor racing from her head to her toes.

  Sliding his hand from her chin along the line of her jaw, he settled it at the nape of her neck. He drew her nearer, angling his head.

  She tensed and pulled away. “No.” Raising her hands to his chest, she pushed at him and averted her head. “Don’t.”

  Unable to meet his gaze, she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a trembling hand to her lips, left tingling from his touch. She heard his tired sigh, and a cool draft swirled around her, telling her he’d backed away.

  “Please,” she whispered, “we need to keep moving. Can we go?”

  She heard the crunch of gravel as Justin pulled back onto the two-lane road. Her head already swam with the lightning speed of events that had changed her life and set her on the road. His attempt to kiss her gave her mind too much to process. She shoved thoughts of it aside so she could think more clearly about her situation and what she must do to shake Randall’s henchman.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

  She heard self-reproach in his low murmur. Peeking over at him, she found him staring out the windshield with a hard, worried frown darkening his face. The concern and determination reflected in his expression reminded her of his vow to stay with her. She couldn’t fathom why he would want to put his life in jeopardy to help her. While his motivation puzzled her, she couldn’t deny a twinge of relief. The promise of his protection enticed her to ignore the doubts about his reasons for involving himself in her problems. But how could she justify putting him in danger? He’d already risked his life to save her from Randall’s man.

  “The first thing we have to do is figure out how he found you.” Justin glanced at her. “Have you used a credit card or seen someone he knows? Did you tell anyone your plans?”

  “No. Except . . .”

  His brow furrowed, and she swallowed hard.

  “There was the guy at the car dealership where I traded in my car.” Shaking her head, she rubbed her arms, fighting the damp chill that seeped to her bones. “Someone could have followed me, I guess, but I didn’t see any one specific car behind me.”

  Justin dragged a hand down his cheek. “We should go to the cops and—”

  “No!” Alarm sharpened her tone. “No police. Randall might have . . . he has contacts everywhere.

  Probably within the police department. I can’t be sure, but I can’t risk it either.” She bit her lip and shivered. “You don’t understand about Randall. He’s a powerful man, and he holds a lot of influence over—”

  “The phone,” Justin said as his gaze swung from the road to Tess. Glancing down at her cell phone, he slapped the steering wheel. “Of course! They traced the phone. You had it on. It rang earlier.”

  Tess gaped at him as his assertion sifted through her mind. A knot formed in her stomach, and she groaned. “How could I have been so stupid! I thought I’d been so careful!” Frustration and anger over her slip-up churned inside her, and she balled her fists.

  In her mind, she heard Randall’s scornful laughter. Dumb bitch! You thought you could get away from me? You don’t have the nerve or the brains to outsmart me!

  A rock lodged in her chest, and she sighed. “Stupid, stupid—”

  “Hey!” Disapproval colored Justin’s voice. “You were scared. You made a mistake. Now let it go.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing.” He snatched up the phone, jerking the recharging cord from the cigarette lighter and rolled down his window. In a smooth motion, he flung the phone out of the car. “There. Problem solved. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  The tension in her stomach uncoiled a fraction, but she couldn’t forgive her screwup easily. Her mistake may have blown her best chance at escaping Randall. Her carelessness endangered Justin, an innocent in her grim situation. Neither was forgivable.

  So why did Justin’s eyes hold such tenderness and absolution when he glanced to her from watching the road?

  “Tess, I meant what I said before. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not Randall. Not his flunkies. Nobody.”

  Her uncertainty must have been written in her expression, because he gave her a half smile, adding, “I know you don’t believe me. Things probably look pretty hopeless right now. But you’ve only lost when you quit fighting. Remember that, okay?”

  His attempts to encourage her touched her, though she couldn’t quite muster even part of the optimism he had. Justin didn’t know Randall.

  He didn’t know Randall’s capacity for cruelty or his relentless and ruthless tactics for getting what he wanted. He didn’t understand the scope of Randall’s power or the terror his wrath caused. And
Tess could only pray that he never did.

  ***

  “Hello, Randall. How’s the golf swing, friend?” Dalton Montgomery said brightly, and Randall grimaced. The insufferable bore probably wanted to play eighteen holes. No matter how valuable his alliance with the banker, he was in no mood to endure the man’s company anytime soon. Tess’s disappearance had eroded what little patience he had.

  “Dalton,” he replied coolly. “What can I do for you?”

  “Oh, nothing for me. I was calling to see if there was anything else I could do for you and Tess. She didn’t say what was wrong, but I got the definite impression she was upset when she stopped by the bank this morning.”

  Randall gripped the receiver tighter and pushed away the file he’d been perusing. “You saw Tess today?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? When she came in to make the withdrawal . . .” Montgomery paused. “You know I won’t say anything about whatever private business you have that requires such a large cash withdrawal. We pride ourselves at First National on our discretion.”

  Gritting his teeth, he fought to control the rage flaring inside him. He couldn’t let the banker know the sneaky bitch had bested him. “Just how much did Tess withdraw?”

  “Uh, about twenty-four thousand, I believe. Do you mean you didn’t know?”

  “Certainly I knew.” He kept his voice even through sheer force of will. “Just making sure she did as I asked. You’ll excuse me now. I’m in a meeting.” Randall carefully depressed the switchhook to disconnect the call.

  Slamming down the receiver, he cursed viciously under his breath. Then again, louder. He didn’t bother having his secretary call Morelli. He dialed the number himself.

  When Morelli answered, Randall began without preamble. “She stole twenty-four thousand dollars from me. Did you know that? Have you found anything out, or do I have to find her myself?”

  “No, boss. We’re on her trail. She traded her BMW for a Jimmy. We know that much. I’ve got men all over the state lookin’ for her. But she hasn’t used her credit card yet and—”

  “Of course she hasn’t! The bitch has twenty-four thousand dollars cash of my money!”

  “She’s a smart broad, boss. Don’t look like she wants to be found, and she’s sure made it tough.”

  “Are you telling me she’s smarter than you are? That you can’t find her?” His barely suppressed rage darkened his tone. “Because if you are—”

  “No, sir. Like I said, we’re on her trail. One of our boys even had her for a while, but she got away. We’re close—”

  “What?” When he shot to his feet, his black leather desk chair toppled over. Fury pumped through his veins. “She got away? Who the hell’d you send after her? A damn Boy Scout?”

  “No, sir. Dominic’s one of the best in the business. But she had help. Some do-gooder jumped him from behind—”

  “I don’t want excuses. I want my wife. And, Morelli, the stakes have changed. She stole from me. If she gives you any more trouble, use force to bring her back. Understand? The little thief has to pay for what she’s done.”

  “Right, I’m on it.”

  “And be sure to let Dominic know how disappointed I am in his failure.” Silence answered him. “Morelli?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it myself.”

  “Good.” Randall slammed down the receiver and braced his arms against the side of his long mahogany desk. He tried to cool his anger with deep, slow breaths, but the rage in him had a life of its own. Images of another woman who’d betrayed and manipulated him taunted him, and his fury boiled to a peak.

  With a roar and one swipe of his arm, he cleared his desk. Files on multimillion-dollar mergers fluttered in the air like a flock of pigeons startled from their roost. Hoisting a crystal vase filled with dried willow branches, he hurled the arrangement across the room. The crystal shattered against a window offering a panoramic view of San Antonio’s Riverwalk, but his anger remained intact.

  An image of himself shone from the polished mahogany desktop he’d cleared. Staring at the face of the fifty-two-year-old man reflected in the dark wood, he saw not the successful businessman he’d become, but the scrawny, frightened little boy he’d been. That boy still lived inside him, reminding him daily of how it felt to be helpless and under someone else’s control. Never again, that boy swore.

  In his dark brown eyes and graying chestnut hair, Randall saw the man his father would have become . . . if he had lived to fifty-two. Of course, his father’s hair would have been shaggy and needing a wash rather than neatly groomed by the best barber in San Antonio, as befitted a businessman of Randall’s stature. The tailored shoulders of his Armani suit emphasized the wide span of strong shoulders, but he saw the thin frame of a boy starving as much for his father’s acceptance as for food. The only recognition of his existence he’d ever received came in the form of beatings from a worn leather belt.

  I’ll teach you not to run from me, you little snot! Who do you think you are? You’re nothing! You’ll never be anything but a burden to me!

  He’d proven his old man wrong a million times. Every dollar in his bank account showed George Sinclair that his son was somebody. Money was power.

  Randall had surrounded himself with people who jumped when he snapped his fingers. He’d scraped and clawed to build a business empire that stunned the competition. For years, his life had been filled with the best of everything. Even his wife drew the envy of his peers. Bending the young girl he’d taken in to his specifications had been simple, using the technique he’d learned well from his father.

  He’d have never imagined his mouse of a wife would have the balls to defy him like this. Yet she’d proven herself disloyal and ungrateful for his generosity. A fire smoldered in his gut, and he dug his fingers into the edge of his desk, struggling to regain control.

  “When I’m finished with you, Tess, you won’t make the mistake of betraying me again.”

  ***

  Tess remained silent and withdrawn as the miles ticked off on the odometer. Justin used the time to do his own thinking. His journey to Nashville had taken a giant detour, and he couldn’t help but think God had thrown Tess in his path as a test.

  When he’d finally quit talking about his aspirations in the music business and dedicated his life to making his dreams a reality, his past returned to haunt him. God couldn’t have given him a clearer message if he’d written it in gold across the sky.

  You can’t have your dream until you make amends for your failure. Before I give you the future, you must pay for the past.

  He glanced at the woman riding beside him, her hazel eyes still wide with fright and unwilling to close for much-needed rest. Beneath the fear, however, he sensed a fighting spirit. She’d had the courage, the good sense to get out of Dodge, away from her husband. Granted, layers of self-doubt, intimidation, and pessimism still choked out the spark inside her, but he intended to nourish that spark, fan it to life and help her find her inner strength. Rebecca would have accepted no less.

  They’d outrun the worst of the rain. Only a light sprinkling remained, and the sun managed to peek out through tiny breaks in the clouds. He took the change in the weather as a good omen.

  The silence in the car dragged on for several more minutes, until Tess spoke. “Why?”

  Without asking for clarification, he understood her terse question. She needed more than platitudes, more than the because I have to that sprang to mind. She wanted to understand what compelled him to force his way into her life, and she deserved to know the truth.

  “I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Right now, why don’t you try to get some sleep.”

  She gave him a tiny, humorless laugh. “Sleep. I’ve almost forgotten what that is.”

  Massaging the stiffness out of his neck muscles with one hand, he blinked his gritty-feeling eyes. “Well, I could use a good night’s sleep. There’s a town in about another forty miles. What’s say we stop there and get a room for the n
ight?”

  Her head whipped around, and the apprehension in her eyes now focused on him. “Get a room?”

  “Yeah. We have to stop sometime.” Tugging up one corner of his mouth, he flashed her a gentle grin. “You do plan to stop for food and sleep, don’t you?”

  Her hands moved restlessly in her lap. “I . . . I . . .”

  “Is it stopping that bothers you, or sharing a room with me?”

  She turned away and watched the passing scenery for a moment before answering. “Either. Both.”

  “Tess, we tossed the phone, so he’s not tracking us anymore.” Justin rubbed his chin and returned his attention to the highway. “He won’t know where you are. It’s safe to stop.” With a sideways glance, he found her chewing her bottom lip again. “Will you stop that? You’re going to make it bleed.” When she cast him a startled frown, he grinned. “Your mouth is too pretty for you to go around mistreating your lip that way.”

  Dumbfounded silence was her only response.

  “As far as the room goes, just get used to the idea. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not after what happened back there.” He paused and tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. “I’ve been thinking. If we register as Mr. and Mrs. Justin Boyd, your name doesn’t appear in the hotel records. That’s added protection for you, right?”

  She blinked, her eyes still full of distrust, but she nodded.

  “I’ll ask for two beds, of course. And I won’t try to jump your bones, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Her eyes grew even wider. Then she turned away with a swift, jerky motion. She raised a neatly manicured fingernail to her teeth, and he reached over to catch her hand.

  “Same goes for the fingernails. No biting allowed. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” He wrapped his fingers around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Try to relax.”

  She shivered. “Easy for you to say.” Lifting her chin, she faced him, irritation blazing in her eyes. “Look, I don’t know why you’ve decided I’m your charity case or your personal damsel to save, but I didn’t ask for a bodyguard. Not that I don’t appreciate the help you gave me back at the restaurant, but the thing is, I’d rather do this alone. I don’t want to be responsible for putting you at risk. I don’t want a roommate. And I don’t need a nag telling me not to bite my nails if I feel like it!”