Aftershock (16 page)

Read Aftershock Online

Authors: Jill Sorenson

BOOK: Aftershock
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It’s not your fault he lost interest.”

“Whose is it?”

“His. He got cold feet and wimped out. Finding a new girlfriend
is easier than dealing with your relationship problems.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

He glanced away, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “You don’t
understand.”

“I also don’t care,” she lied, rolling over in her seat.
Although Michael couldn’t hurt her anymore, Garrett had that power. He’d been
honest with her, but he was still a heartbreaker, wreaking havoc on her
emotions.

It didn’t matter, anyway. There was no possibility of a tryst,
or even another stolen kiss. She was dirty, and thirsty, and starving. If she
had to choose between a hot bath and a steamy night with Garrett, she’d pick the
bath.

“He was an arrogant bastard, if he thought he could do better
than you.”

“I’m no prize,” she said.

“Yes, you are.”

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. She squeezed them
shut, taking a deep breath. There was nothing more to say. She was exhausted,
and he was unavailable. They couldn’t be together, tonight or any other
night.

* * *

P
ENNY
DIDN

T
MOVE
from her spot on the bed as Owen knocked and let
himself in, locking the door behind him.

The baby had fallen asleep against her breast. He’d been
nursing every hour, and dozing off between feedings. Lauren said it was normal
for newborns to be groggy. As long as she snuggled him, skin to skin, he didn’t
cry much.

Owen had found a hooded sweatshirt to wear over his
wife-beater. It was too large, billowing at his lean waist and hanging down past
his wrists. All his tattoos were covered, even the one on his neck.

He studied her warily, his eyes drifting across her chest.

She adjusted the blanket over her upper half to make sure she
wasn’t exposed. “Thanks for the water.”

“Sure.”

“How’s Don?”

“He’s doing okay. Resting, right now. Cadence wanted to stay in
the semi with Lauren and Garrett.”

“Poor thing,” Penny said.

“Do you mind if I sleep on the floor in here?”

Lauren had disposed of the soiled sheets and newspapers, so the
mattress was clean. Penny and the baby took up about half the space. There was
no reason Owen couldn’t sleep beside them. “We can share the bed.”

After a short hesitation, he climbed in next to her. Using his
arm as a pillow, he stretched out on his back. “What are you going to call
him?”

“Cruz,” she said, kissing his downy head.

“Croose?”

She spelled it for him. “It means
cross
in Spanish.”

“Oh.”

Penny wasn’t religious like her parents, but she thought her
father might approve of a boy named Cruz. The baby had her dark coloring, not
Tyler’s light hair and eyes. He was going to look Mexican.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good,” she said. The pain wasn’t unbearable. Although she
should have been exhausted, she felt energized by her responsibility to Cruz.
His tiny hands and strange expressions fascinated her. She couldn’t stop
watching him.

“He’s, uh, eating?”

“I think so.”

“You can’t tell?”

“No. I mean, he’s been sucking, but maybe that’s just for
comfort. I don’t know if he’s getting anything.” She eased the sleeping baby
away from her breasts, buttoning up the front of her dress for modesty.

“Is he burping?”

Penny hadn’t even thought about that. “Should I be trying to
burp him?” she asked, wringing her hands.

Owen shrugged. “If he’s not upset, I wouldn’t worry about
it.”

“I wish I’d paid more attention at the child-care classes,” she
moaned. “I can’t remember what to do.”

“You’re doing fine,” he said. “I’m sure he’s getting milk.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, you look like you have plenty. And he seems satisfied.
Babies cry when they’re hungry.”

Penny relaxed a little, because his explanation sounded
logical. Lauren had told her to pay attention to his diapers, too. By tomorrow
or the next day, he should be wetting. “I hope we’re rescued soon.”

He didn’t echo the sentiment, which seemed telling. His life in
prison must have been hell if he liked this place better.

Moving gingerly, she got up to use the bathroom, and then came
back to the bed. Lauren had left her enough supplies to take care of the baby’s
needs. She had blankets, wipes and sanitary napkins.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Owen said.

“What if he wakes up and needs me?”

“I’ll watch him.”

“When will you sleep?”

“Let’s both sleep,” he amended. “We’ll hear him if he
cries.”

“I’m afraid you’ll roll over him.”

He massaged his eye sockets. “I’m a light sleeper. There’s no
way I’d roll over him.” Even so, he humored her by making a soft border with two
folded towels. They lay facing each other with Cruz between them.

Penny had experienced several weepy moments since the birth.
Everything seemed to make her cry, and she wasn’t an emotional person. For some
reason, Owen’s small gesture struck her sentimental bone.

She blamed it on hormones. But she also reached out to hold his
hand, linking her fingers with his. The swastika looked different to her now.
Painful, like a black welt. This mark had been inflicted upon him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing for the hurt it caused.

“Me, too,” she replied, closing her eyes.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

O
WEN
AWOKE
WITH
A
START
.

He’d had a nightmare about running away from Jeb. He’d gotten
shot instead of Don. His knee had exploded in a violent burst and his leg
collapsed beneath him. But no one had dragged him to safety.

It was still pitch-dark outside. A crack of light shone under
the bathroom door, illuminating the space. Penny was sleeping with her back to
him. She’d switched the baby to her other side. Although he felt like he’d just
closed his eyes, he sat forward, listening for a disturbance.

Garrett’s knock sounded at the door.

He took a deep breath, pressing a palm to his galloping heart.
Penny didn’t rouse at the noise. Little Cruz must have fallen asleep nursing,
because her dress was unbuttoned, exposing her lush breasts.

Owen studied her with unabashed interest, his pulse thickening.
He should have been ashamed of himself. She’d invited him to share her bed, and
felt comfortable enough to feed her baby right next to him. It was clear that
she’d elevated him to “friend” category, and trusted him to act the
gentleman.

But he was no gentleman.

Garrett knocked again, interrupting his crude perusal. Owen
covered Penny with the edge of a blanket and rose to his feet, pressing the heel
of his palm against his fly. If he’d had any saliva left, he’d have been
drooling on her.

He opened the door for Garrett, who carried in a drowsy
Cadence. Lauren followed him, her blond hair mussed. After Garrett set Cadence
down on the bed next to Penny, he rifled through the cabinet, grabbing a soda
and some peanut butter. They stepped outside to share the meager breakfast.

Lauren locked the door behind them, her eyes sharp with
worry.

It was well before dawn. Owen had probably slept for two hours,
total. His arm muscles were sore from the hard work yesterday, his stomach ached
with hunger, and he’d kill for a glass of fucking water.

“I have to take a piss,” he mumbled, walking toward the
designated corner with Garrett, who used a penlight to navigate the space. They
didn’t want to turn on the lamps and draw too much attention.

Owen stood as far away from Garrett as possible and unzipped
his pants. His balls hurt from lack of release, and his stream was an
unsatisfying dribble. Garrett seemed to be experiencing the same trouble,
wincing as he shook it off.

The west side of the cavern smelled like death. They were lucky
the weather had cooled down, because the stench of urine and rotting corpses
would have been even worse in the heat. As they returned to the ambush zone,
Owen recognized the same stench on Garrett. To escape Jeb yesterday, Garrett
must have hidden among the bodies.

Gross.

They checked the tar pits and trip wires, making sure the traps
were ready to go. Owen gathered some weapons and stacked a pile of rocks near
his hiding place. Then he watched Garrett pour muriatic acid and gasoline into
plastic bottles, his tension rising.

They were getting into some serious shit here. Owen had been
involved in violence before, but the gang fights and armed robberies paled in
comparison. This was a full-on terrorist attack. Last night, their makeshift
bombs and deadly traps had seemed like a game. Now it was real, and Garrett’s
expressionless face was freaking him out. He was mixing dangerous chemicals
without breaking a sweat.

Was the man made of stone?

“Some people freeze up during survival situations,” Garrett
said in a near whisper, twisting a cap on one of the bottles. “They can’t save
themselves, let alone help others. I’ve seen it happen in Iraq. Even the
smartest guys with the best training can choke.”

Owen smoothed a hand over his hair, about to crack under the
pressure. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know I can count on you. You threw a rock at Jeb
yesterday, which was stupid, but brave. You saved Don’s life by tying a shirt
around his leg. You’re able to think on your feet, make quick decisions and take
action.”

“No,” he said, disagreeing with Garrett’s assessment. He wasn’t
brave or smart. Running and hiding were his two favorite strategies.

“Do you want to stay in the RV with the women?”

“Yes!”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Go on, then. I won’t
think any less of you.”

Owen didn’t move.

“You can’t go later,” Garrett warned. “No matter what happens,
you can’t run toward the RV for cover.”

“I know.”

At the last minute, they parted ways. Owen crouched behind a
car on the west side of the cavern while Garrett raised the dummy toward the
ceiling. They’d placed a chisel in its gloved hand. Although the decoy didn’t
move like a real man, his body language was convincing. He appeared ready to
strike the concrete.

After the dummy was in the right position, Garrett tied off the
rope and hurried to his lookout point on the northeast edge, near the ambulance.
Owen couldn’t see him, so he listened for his signal: three sharp raps against
the wall.

They wanted Jeb and Mickey to hear the sounds of concrete
chipping, and respond accordingly.

Owen waited in the dark, motionless. The outline of a climber
was visible at the crevice, and he had Garrett’s build. At noon, the ruse
wouldn’t hold up, but in the eerie predawn light it was perfect.

This was going to work. He could feel it.

The chipping noise would draw Jeb and Mickey out into the open.
Jeb couldn’t take a shot from the safety of his truck. He’d have to move closer
to hit his mark. Once they were in motion, Garrett’s acid bomb would prevent
them from retreating. As the men moved south, toward Owen and away from the
fumes, they would encounter a series of traps. No matter which path they took,
they’d find trouble.

But there was no such thing as a foolproof plan.

The first problem was that Jeb and Mickey weren’t in their
camp. They must have crept away from the truck last night. As soon as Garrett
hit the wall, Jeb popped up from behind one of the demolished vehicles in the
middle of the cavern. He fired at the decoy, setting the events into motion much
more quickly than expected.

His bullet struck the dummy in the back of the neck, almost
severing its head from its body. The “climber” showed no reaction. He continued
to hold up his right hand, chisel poised. It was a dead giveaway.

“What the fuck?” Jeb muttered.

The attack hadn’t even started yet, and their enemy already
knew he’d been duped. They’d lost the element of surprise.

Owen tightened his grip on the hammer, his pulse pounding. When
he squinted, he could just make out Mickey’s shadowy figure crouched next to
Jeb. They looked poised for a counterattack.

Garrett was forced to throw the first bomb before he was ready,
and it didn’t quite reach the target. Anticipating an explosion, Jeb ducked down
with Mickey, protecting his face with the crook of his arm. A gray cloud rose up
between the cars. Although the poisonous gas worked to create a barrier, it
didn’t come close to crippling their opponents. Both men were able to avoid the
worst of the fumes.

Owen cursed under his breath, unsure what to do. This suddenly
seemed like a very stupid idea. Instead of crashing headlong into the trip
wires, Jeb and Mickey exercised caution as they moved away from the smoke.
Garrett advanced with another acid bomb, and followed that up with several
gasoline cocktails. Small fires illuminated the space. It was difficult to tell
which clouds were toxic.

Panic set in—for Mickey. He started running.

Owen’s heart lodged in his throat as Mickey hit a grease slick,
tripped over a wire and landed facedown in a glass-shard-studded tar pit. He
screamed in pain, his high-pitched voice shriller than usual.

Jeb kept a cooler head. Aware that he was being directed south,
he ignored Mickey’s plea for help and turned to fight. He went back through the
smoke, his gun ready, actively seeking a confrontation with Garrett.

Once again, the events had taken an unexpected detour, and Owen
was faced with a dilemma. Did he go after Jeb, finish off Mickey or cower behind
this car and wait until the smoke cleared?

He wished he’d stayed in the RV.

“Shit,” he muttered, standing up straight. Garrett was counting
on him. Hammer raised, he strode toward the pit Mickey had fallen into.

* * *

G
ARRETT
COULDN

T
BELIEVE
he’d made such a stupid mistake.

He’d never even considered the possibility that Jeb and Mickey
wouldn’t be in the truck. It threw off his timing and damned near wrecked the
whole plan. If he’d waited another second to throw the bomb, they’d have gotten
away.

The good news was that Jeb hadn’t been close enough to spy on
them, so he didn’t know about the decoy. He took his shot, as anticipated, and
entered the ambush zone. The bad news was that Jeb had a few extra seconds to
process the chaos. He smelled a trap. Only Mickey had fallen victim to one of
the pits.

Jeb, that crazy son of a bitch, was coming back through the
smoke for Garrett. He’d simply held his breath to prevent inhaling the
fumes.

Fuck!

Garrett was out of acid bombs. They were too dangerous to
stockpile. He’d stashed a couple of gasoline cocktails about twenty feet away,
but he didn’t have time to grab them. He needed to stop Jeb now, before he
escaped, or this was all for naught.

Heart racing, Garrett crouched in front of the last car,
holding his crowbar in a death grip. He couldn’t attack from a standing position
because Jeb was sure to spot him. A blow to the knee was his best hope of taking
his opponent down. He had to disarm him; Jeb didn’t have a chance against
Garrett without his gun.

If Jeb kept ahold of his weapon, and his wits...it wouldn’t be
pretty.

Everything was riding on Garrett’s ability to obliterate Jeb’s
kneecap, so he waited for the perfect moment to strike. His palms grew slick and
his pulse thundered in his ears. He couldn’t fuck this up. Not again.

When Jeb passed by on his left side, Garrett swung with all his
might, cracking both of Jeb’s knees with the flat of the crowbar. The impact
reverberated along the metal shaft, stinging his hands. He almost lost his grip.
Garrett heard a sickening pop as connective tissue snapped away from bone.

Jeb cried out in agony and crumpled to the cavern floor.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t stunned enough to drop his gun.

He rolled onto his back and fired at Garrett, point-blank.

Garrett had to act fast. He abandoned the crowbar and dove
across the hood of the vehicle, toppling over the edge. Jeb fired twice more in
rapid succession. One bullet ricocheted into the undercarriage. The other struck
Garrett’s left arm.

It hurt. Really fucking bad.

He clamped a hand over the wound and kept moving, ignoring the
pain. Wetness seeped between his fingers. Staying low, he ducked behind another
vehicle. Jeb couldn’t follow him with a busted kneecap, and he didn’t have a
clear shot.

How many more bullets were left?

Garrett considered his options. Cornered animals were the most
dangerous, but retreating now would be a disaster. The job wasn’t finished. He
needed to draw more fire. Once Jeb wasted the last of his ammunition, he’d be
helpless.

On the other hand, Garrett didn’t want to get shot again. His
shirtsleeve was soaked with blood, and the wound was killing him. Mickey hadn’t
been accounted for, either. Garrett had no idea how long the tar pit would keep
Mickey occupied.

A woman’s scream rang out from the ambush zone, sending a chill
down his spine. It was Lauren.

God
damn
it. She’d promised not to
come out of the RV for any reason. He wasn’t opposed to accepting her help, and
he’d asked for her input. But he couldn’t put her life at risk. She was the
medic. They all needed her.

He
needed her.

She’d probably disregarded his instructions because Owen was
hurt. Garrett hoped he hadn’t run to the RV.

“Sounds like your bitch is in trouble,” Jeb crowed. “Go save
her, hero.”

Garrett gritted his teeth in frustration, knowing that Jeb
would take this opportunity to slither back into his hole. “How’s the knee
feel?”

“Better than your arm.”

Seething, Garrett pushed away from the vehicle and crept
through the dark cavern. Defeating Jeb would have to take a rain check. On his
way back, he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his stash of supplies. Using his
teeth to get the tape started, he kept walking, winding a tight bandage around
his upper arm. It would stanch the blood flow for a few minutes.

Hands free, he went to Lauren.

* * *

A
LTHOUGH
L
AUREN
HAD
agreed
to lie low in the RV, she rose at the sound of gunshots, racing to the front
seat to look out the window.

The dummy’s head was destroyed, hanging from its neck at an odd
angle.

She clapped a hand over her mouth in horror. That could have
been Garrett. He was right about Jeb’s intentions.

“What’s happening?” Cadence cried. She was on the bed with
Penny, their arms clasped around each other, baby Cruz between them.

“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “I can’t see anything.”

While Cadence’s eyes radiated fear, Penny appeared calm. She
cared only about protecting the newborn. As long as he was okay, she was
okay.

Last night, when the men had gone to raid the enemy camp,
Lauren had followed Garrett’s orders. She’d stayed inside the RV, hugging the
girls and listening to the gunfire, her pulse racing with anxiety.

She couldn’t do that again. She wanted to know what was
happening. If Garrett got shot, she’d be devastated. Her heart dropped as she
realized how deep her feelings for him went. She was tempted to go outside and
risk her life for a man she couldn’t even
have.

Other books

Assignment - Ankara by Edward S. Aarons
Not My Wolf by Eden Cole
Prince of Magic by Linda Winstead Jones
Cold Blooded by Amanda Carlson