Resurrecting Charlie's Girl (8 page)

Rat-a-tat.

She
jumped and scrambled out of bed. She darted behind the door—her only exit. She
placed her hand on the wooden door. Not that her strength against a man the
size of Jared would keep the door closed.

"Charlise,"
a male voice spoke from the other side of the door.

She
pressed an ear to the wood, uncertain of the voice.

Tom's
low tones came through the door again. "Charlise, it's Tom. Let me
in."

Positive
of the identity of the knocker, she unlocked the door and stepped back.

Tom
hurried inside, shut and locked the door, and then stepped over to the
curtained window.

"What's
going on?" She walked over and gripped his arm. "Did Jared find
us?"

"We
need to get out of here." Tom peeked between the space he made in the
curtains. "Now."

But
how? How had he found them so fast?

"I
don't want to stick around and ask him how he managed to track us down."
He cussed under his breath. "I underestimated the asshole."

Charlise
moved to the door and waited for Tom to direct her on what to do. Fully awake,
ready to run, she'd rather get out of the room where they stood a fighting
chance. The hotel trapped them into an area Jared could pick them off, one by
one.

"It
looks like he brought company. Two black sedans have circled the motel every
fifteen minutes, give or take." He ran his hands up and down her arms.
"You've got to pull yourself together, be strong, and do exactly what I
say. No arguing, no going off on your own, understand?"

She
nodded, watching his face. She'd follow him around the world if that's what it
took to get away from Jared alive.

She
needed to tell him how he'd changed her life for the better and how the day he
helped her escape out of Jared's clutches gave her hope. He needed to
understand why she'd acted crazy in the car. Most of all, she wanted to tell
him she was afraid she was falling in love with him in case they didn't make it
out of here alive.

"We're
going to run to my car—"

"I
don't have shoes." Charlise looked down at her feet, then back up at him. "I'll
slow you down."

Tom
glanced down. She wiggled her toes. She'd run through glass to keep him safe.

"I'll
keep up, I promise," she said.

"No,
your feet will get cut to shreds. Let me think." He ran his hand across
his stubbled chin.

"Here,
wear my socks." He sat down on the bed, and made quick work of removing
his shoes. Tom handed her his socks. "Put them on, and roll the tops down
around your ankles so they don't come off."

She
held his sock, hesitating.

He
shrugged. "Sorry, it's the best I can do."

She
sat next to him on the bed and pulled the oversized socks on her feet. Her eyes
followed Tom as he rose to move to the window.

"Are
they still out there?" She pulled the elastic on her sweatpants over the
socks in an attempt to keep them on better. They bagged around her ankles. She
doubted they'd stay on for long.

"No
and their absence has me worried." Tom closed the curtain and stepped to
the door.

She
twisted her hands together and went to him. Tom gathered her hands in his and
squeezed. She swallowed hard.

"Ready?"
He gripped her chin and kissed her hard and quick. "For luck."

Charlise
nodded. They'd need all the luck they could get.

Tom
opened the door and holding her hand, jogged across the pavement. She ran to
keep up with his long-legged stride. He zigzagged on the outskirts of the
parking lot and kept to the shadows. She ignored the rocks biting into her
sensitive skin and the socks that threatened to come off.

At
the end of the parking lot, Tom pulled her down behind a row of hedges. She
squatted beside him. Her breath came out in puffs, more from the chill of the
night and nerves, than from exertion.

"We
have to move around the corner. I'm parked far enough away from that
streetlight—he pointed up ahead—so the light doesn't reflect inside the
car."

A
car downshifting and coming closer raised Charlise's awareness. Her fingers dug
into Tom's arm. Did it all come to an end now? Cowering in the bushes?

"It's
not them. Unless Jared's hired an older lady who drives a classic coupe."
Tom gave her hand a squeeze. "Breathe, Charlise. I'll get you out of
here."

Tom
moved away from the hedge. She gripped his hand and moved with him. They
sprinted across the parking lot to the car.

Tom
opened the door and she scrambled over the gearshift and landed in the
passenger seat. She reached over her shoulder for the seatbelt and buckled up.

"Hurry,
hurry, hurry." Her fists bounced on the top of her thighs.

Tom
followed her into the car and slammed the key in, but made no move to start the
car. She frowned. "Tom?"

He
held up his finger and tilted his head, and Charlise's heartbeat skittered. She
frantically looked up and down the parking lot for any sign of a black car.

She
urgently whispered, "We have to get out of here. If Jared brought others
to help, he's not going to let us leave alive."

Tom
shushed her. She watched his face in silence. The only sound was her breath
coming in gasps.

"Get
out of the car. Now!" He undid her seatbelt.

Charlise
groped for the door handle and scrambled out of the car. Tom motioned to her
and she hurried around the car to his side. She didn't understand why they
weren't in the car, where they at least stood a chance of outrunning Jared. On
foot, they were doomed.

"Let's
walk." Tom threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against
him.

"What's
wrong? Why aren't we driving away, Tom?" Charlise didn't want to move
until she had answers. Tom nudged her forward, and she said, "Talk to me,
dammit. What's going on?"

Her
protector leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and kept her tight against
his side. "Someone rigged a bomb in the car when I left to get you. I
could feel the catch in the ignition. All it would have taken was for me to
complete the turn to start the car and we'd be history."

Charlise
halted in shock. "What? A bomb?"

"We're
okay." Tom put his arm around her shoulders and forced her move forward
again. "See that big sign down the street?" He pointed in the
direction. "It looks like a restaurant. If we can get in there and
surround ourselves with people, I can call G.P.I. and figure out our next move.
Let's go. We've still got three blocks to clear."

Charlise
slid her arm around Tom's waist and hooked her thumb in his back pocket. A cozy
scene of two people holding on to each other and sharing the night, but she
knew Tom held her close to protect her body from being shot at if Jared's car
showed up.

Traffic
picked up the closer they got to what she could now see was an all-night diner.
Tom's arm over Charlise's shoulders tensed.

"Let's
cross here." Tom didn't go to the intersection crosswalk, but jaywalked
across the road.

The
streetlights lit up the sidewalk. Tom stopped and wrapped his arms around
Charlise, his legs spread wide. He kept his back towards the oncoming traffic.

"What?
Tom!" Her voice was muffled against his chest. He wasn't budging. She
couldn't get her hands free to push back to breathe.

"Hang
on, keep your head tucked." Tom whispered in her ear. "There're two
black sedans cruising down the street, back to back."

"Oh
God." She squeezed every muscle in her body, trying to shrink herself.

"Keep
your head down. One of the cars stopped across the street." He nuzzled her
neck. "Let's pretend we are a couple making out on the middle of the
sidewalk."

She
found it hard to breathe smothered against Tom's chest with his mouth on her
neck. "Let's make a run for the diner."

"No.
I can't protect you on the run." He kissed her temple. "They can't
see our face, and I'm guessing there are too many witnesses out and about right
now for him to take us out."

"Oh
God, I didn't want this." Charlise clutched at his chest.

"I'm
going to try something. You'll have to trust me and not react, okay?"

Charlise
nodded against his chest.

Tom
rummaged in his pants pocket with one hand while keeping his other arm around
her, and removed his car keys. "I have a remote starter, and if I'm
guessing right, starting the car is going to set off the bomb."

"What's
that going to do besides lose the only car we have?" She tried to pull her
head back to get a breath of cool night air, but Tom pushed her head back down
on his chest.

"Maybe
Jared and his goons will think we're in the car. It'll buy us some time and I'm
willing to gamble my plan will work to our advantage."

"He's
not dumb," she said.

"Trust
me, Charlie's girl. A car bomb will draw lots of attention to the area and
it'll take them awhile to figure out if anyone is inside."

Tom
wrapped his arm around her and held the remote on her shoulder. "Blackwell's
got an APB out for his arrest. He won't want to stick around when the cops show
up."

The
jingle of keys sounded in Charlise's ear. She held on tighter to Tom, and
squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of a big boom.
Please don't let
anyone be near that car.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

Chapter Nine

The
blast knocked the breath out of Charlise. Her stomach rolled in protest. She
pushed away and peered around Tom's wide chest. She bounced on her sock-covered
feet at the sight of Jared's cars racing down the street.

"It
worked," she said on an exhale.

"Come
on—Tom grabbed her hand and started to run—Let's get inside the diner before
they realize we weren't inside the car."

Together
they ran the rest of the way down the street.

People
peered out the windows of the diner, trying to figure out where the explosion
came from. Tom and Charlise walked to the back, skipping the hostess station
and sitting themselves next to the kitchen entrance. No one paid any attention
to the woman walking into the restaurant in a pair of ratty, dirty socks ten
times too big for her feet.

"I
can't believe it worked." She slid into the booth and picked up a menu to
shield herself. Jared might be distracted now, but he'd be back and furious at
being made a fool.

"We
got lucky. I need to call in and ask for backup." Tom pulled out his cell
phone and punched a button.

"Can
I take your order?" A waitress stood at the table. Her pen and tablet
ready to take their order.

"Could
you give us a few minutes, please?" Charlise smiled at the woman.

With
her hair tangled, clothes wrinkled, and in desperate need of a shower, it
should have bothered her for others to see her at her worse. It didn't.

She
and Tom could've died in that explosion. Right now, she was lucky they both
escaped alive. Even if they were a mess.

The
waitress pocketed her tablet in the checkered apron and left to help more
customers. Charlise's stomach growled. She hoped Tom had his wallet on him.
They both needed food for energy if they were gonna stay one step ahead of
Jared and his thugs.

Tom
ended the call, closed his phone, and set it on the table. The frown on his
face told Charlise his partners were still coming up empty and were no closer
to figuring out how to capture her ex-husband.

She
leaned forward. "What did they say?"

"A
squad car will be here in about twenty minutes to pick us up." He picked
up a menu.

"And?
What are the police going to do? They won't believe me after they find out I
reneged on my complaint last time I tried to get away from him." She
slouched down in the booth. "Besides, I don't trust any of them. Jared can
buy his way out of any situation."

"They're
taking us to meet Garrett. We're not saying a word of what we've been through."
Tom closed the menu and slid it to the edge of the table. "I think I'll
have two double cheeseburgers with a basket of fries. How about you?"

 Tom
motioned to the waitress.

"We
have time and money to eat?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She
studied the menu again like she needed to pass her high school calculus final
exam. "I'm starving."

 She
ordered cheeseburgers and fries, too, and figured if she didn't eat it all now,
she'd take the extra with her. Who knew the next time she'd be able to eat?

The
shrill of sirens pierced the air even inside the diner and the flashing lights
from the cop cars reflected on the windows. She gave a slight shake of her head,
not believing they got lucky enough that they'd escaped a car bomb.