Protector for Hire (22 page)

“I wish you could figure it out with me,” she said at last. “That you’d realize you deserve happiness. The kind of happiness I know we could have together.”

He shook his head, but he honestly couldn’t tell if he was disagreeing or just trying to find a way to make the pain stop. Make the words stop coming so he’d stop realizing he might be making the biggest mistake of his life.

“I can’t,” he said.

The words thudded like cold bricks into the space between them. He could still sense her standing there behind him, the heat of her body reaching him through the fibers of his flannel shirt. But she was a million miles away from him now. He’d done that. On purpose.

He heard her footsteps crossing the floor, moving away from him. He turned to look at her, to watch her back retreating as she made her way toward the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Back to the restaurant,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“You’re not alone.”

She turned to face him, giving him the saddest smile he’d ever seen. “Right now, I am.”

She hesitated, and for a moment, he thought she might change her mind and cross the room again to fall into his arms. Instead, she shook her head. “Here’s one thing I’m sure of, Schwartz—the only person who doesn’t know what kind of man you are is
you
. I hope you figure it out someday.”

She turned away again, pushing the door open before he could come up with anything to say. He watched her move through it, the dark wig a silken halo around her head, her shoulders rigid. She pushed the door closed behind her, and Schwartz turned to the window to watch her walk past it. He touched a hand to the glass, but she didn’t look back. The moonlight cast a chilly glow on her skin, and he could see tear tracks streaming down her face. She moved beyond the window, her gait stiff and even as she made her way across the street.

He dropped his hand and clenched it into a fist, wanting to scream, to run after her, to tell her he loved her, too.

But he couldn’t do any of that.

He didn’t deserve that kind of reward.

He sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. He knew he should go after her, but he also knew she needed space right now. Gordy and Laverne and Bill were there, and they were all just a few hundred feet away. She was safe for now, probably safer than she’d be with him.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there like that, his shoulders slumped, his breathing ragged and raw, his heart aching like someone had ripped it out of his chest and smacked it with a sledgehammer.

He might have sat there all night if his phone hadn’t buzzed with an incoming call. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the readout.
Grant.

He hit the button to answer. “Yeah.”

“Bad news.”

A bolt of ice shot down his spine, and Schwartz gripped the phone harder. “What?”

“The son of a bitch walked free.”

“No.”

“Yes. His lawyers got him out on some sort of technicality. I didn’t catch all the details, but Mac wanted me to call you right away.”

“Where is he?”

“Still in L.A. the last we knew. The cops said he’s not allowed to leave the state, but it’s not like this guy has a long track record of respecting the law.”

“Is Mac on him?”

“That’s the thing—he slipped the surveillance. Some sort of decoy trick.”

“Decoy trick?”

“I don’t have details. It must have been one helluva trick if he got past Mac.”

Schwartz nodded, which was dumb. Grant couldn’t see him.

“Anyway,” Grant said, “keep lying low. Tell Janelle to be patient just a little longer. We’ll nail the bastard eventually, I swear.”

“Got it.”

He disconnected the call but kept the phone gripped in his palm a few beats longer, holding that connection to his brother. Was it wrong to feel relieved? Was it wrong that a tiny part of him wanted Janelle to be stuck with him a little while longer?

He could still talk with her. Hold her. Make love to her.

Fat chance.

Okay, so he’d blown it. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe he could convince her to forget all about the love thing and just enjoy spending time together. Wasn’t that enough?

It’s not enough for you, and it sure as hell won’t be enough for her.

He grabbed his coat off the peg by the door, shrugging it on as he turned the doorknob. “Stay here, boy,” he told Sherman. “I’ll get your favorite belly scratcher and bring her back here.”

The dog lifted his head and whimpered, then laid his head back down on the rug. Schwartz pushed his way out the door, practically jogging by the time he reached the front of the Elk Horn. He shoved open the door, cringing as the bell chimed with a jubilance that seemed obnoxiously out of place. Scanning the room, he recognized a few familiar faces. Some drunk guy who always ordered three pieces of pie. A lady rancher who came in sometimes to play the jukebox.

No Laverne. No Gordy.

But most importantly, no Janelle.

Bill ambled out of the kitchen, and Schwartz practically rushed over and tackled him. “Where is she? Where’s Janelle?”

“Janelle?”

“Rebecca,” he said. “My friend. My—my fiancée.”

His heart twisted at the sound of those words. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins as he scanned the room, thinking he might have missed her. Had she run to the restroom?

“She’s gone,” Bill said.

“Gone?”

“Gone. Came in crying and carryin’ on over there with Laverne and Gordy. Then the three of ’em up and left.”

“Together? Where?”

Bill shrugged. “Didn’t say where they were headed.”

Schwartz felt his blood turn to ice. This couldn’t be happening.

“How long ago?”

Bill glanced at his watch. “Hour, maybe? There’s a storm coming in, so you might have a tough time catching them. Bill and Laverne had their motor home and had been talking about some anniversary getaway, but they didn’t say where.”

Schwartz squeezed his eyes shut, willing this to be a bad dream. All of it. The argument, Jacques’s release, Janelle’s departure, her declaration of love.

His chest squeezed at that, and he realized it wasn’t true. That part, anyway. He didn’t want her not to love him.

He wanted to be worthy of her love.

His hands were shaking now as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He stared at the screen, knowing what he needed to do. Knowing ten years was way too long to have waited to do it.

He punched in the numbers he knew by heart, making the one phone call he swore he’d never make. The second the call connected, Schwartz said the three words he should have said a long time ago.

“I need you.”

Chapter Fourteen

Janelle snuggled back into her down jacket as the motor home sailed along the interstate. She stifled a yawn, not wanting to fall asleep despite the fact that Gordy and Laverne had insisted it would be okay.

“Just lie down in back and rest,” Laverne had told her. “It’s a long drive to Washington. Might as well make yourself comfortable.”

But sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. All she could think about was that she might have just made the dumbest move of her life.

It wasn’t Jacques that worried her. The bastard was behind bars, and she felt secure with Gordy and Laverne and their promise to deliver her safely to Fort Lewis. They could surprise their son, and Janelle could have Grant watching over her and a safe bit of distance between herself and Schwartz. This was better for everyone, wasn’t it?

Okay, so maybe fleeing hadn’t been the smartest decision. It had been impulsive, and probably a little reckless.

But how could she possibly stay after what she’d said to Schwartz?

Or more importantly, what he hadn’t said to her.

God, why did she have to tell him she loved him? She’d known Schwartz only two weeks. A regular guy would freak out at having a woman drop the L-bomb after that amount of time.

Schwartz was no regular guy.

Wasn’t that what she loved about him?

Okay, fine, she
did
love him. So what? She didn’t need to go broadcasting it to him like some sort of twit. She’d known from the start he wasn’t the sort of man to want love and marriage and commitment and happily ever after. Why had she gone and pushed it?

Because she loved him. Because she honestly adored him so much she couldn’t keep it to herself. If that was enough to drive him away, then so be it.

The thought depressed her, so she gazed out the window at the passing cars, at dark lumps on the horizon that were probably cars or cows or those big round bales of hay that seemed to be everywhere in the vast farmland they passed through.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, and when she woke up, there were faint cracks of daylight seeping through dark clouds. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, then got to her feet and shuffled to the front of the motor home. Gordy had his eyes on the road, but Laverne had nodded off in the passenger seat.

“Where are we?” she asked Gordy

“The Puget Sound area.”

“That’s near Fort Lewis?”

“Yeah. We’re just about there.”

Laverne stirred, then opened her eyes and smiled when she saw Janelle. “Did you get some rest, pattycake?”

“A little.”

“You sure about this?” She reached out and touched Janelle’s hand, a look of concern knitting her brows together. “I know you can’t share what you’re running from, but at least promise us you’ll be safe.”

“I promise.” Janelle swallowed, willing herself to believe her own words. “I’ll be in good hands with my brother-in-law.”

Gordy nodded. “He’s a marine, he’s your man’s brother, and Schwartz trusts him. That’s good enough for me.”

Seemingly satisfied, Laverne turned back to the road as Gordy pulled the motor home to a stop in front of a building Janelle had seen only once when she and Anna had come to visit Grant. She probably should have called somehow instead of showing up on his doorstep like this, but she hadn’t wanted to risk him telling her to stay put with Schwartz. She couldn’t bear the thought of spending one more night with a man she loved who couldn’t love her back. Who couldn’t love
himself
.

“This is the place, right?”

Janelle turned to Gordy, blinking back the tears filling her eyes. “Yeah, this is it. Thank you so much, you two. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Laverne said. “This was a great excuse to come visit Scotty.”

Gordy glanced at his watch. “If we hustle, maybe we can have breakfast with him.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Laverne said, turning back to Janelle. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

Gordy reached for his seat belt. “Let me walk you to the door.”

“No, really, it’s okay,” she said. “It’s just a few steps away, and you guys need to catch your son in time for breakfast. I’ll be fine. Really.” She fished in her purse, grateful she’d had the foresight to bring it along when they’d left the cabin. She didn’t have the rest of her things, but she could have Schwartz send those along later. Much later.

“Here, let me give you some cash—”

“Nonsense,” Laverne said, waving her off. “It was our pleasure.”

“Please?”

“You go on,” Gordy said, waving her along. “Just promise us you’ll be in touch to let us know everything’s okay.”

“I promise,” Janelle said, relieved she’d have enough cash to pay for a few groceries. Even with Jacques in custody, she wasn’t dumb enough to risk using one of her credit cards. Not with his thugs still out there possibly looking for her.

“Thanks again,” she said as she opened the door to the motor home. “Happy anniversary.”

“Bye-bye.” Laverne stood up and gave her a hug that squeezed all the breath out of her. “Take care of yourself, Miss Rebecca.”

Rebecca. Right. She’d almost forgotten she was using her middle name. She nodded, turning away so they wouldn’t see her tears. She was crying in earnest now, big, sloppy tears she knew had nothing to do with Gordy and Laverne. She hitched her purse up on her shoulder and stepped out of the motor home, trying to keep her posture straight.

“I’ll be fine,” she called over her shoulder, knowing nothing could be further from the truth.

…

Thirty minutes later, Janelle stood at the counter of a convenience store, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Okay, so her plan hadn’t worked out so well. Apparently she’d picked the one weekend Grant had decided to travel to Portland and surprise her sister with a visit. It was fine; everything would be fine. Portland was only a couple hours away. She just needed to get to Anna’s place, that’s all.

“Good morning,” she said, and the clerk looked up from his newspaper and regarded her with a bored expression. “Is this where I catch the bus that’s headed to Portland?”

“Yeah.” He nodded at the clock on the wall behind her. “Should be along in about forty minutes. You can buy your ticket from the driver.”

“Thank you.”

She turned to study the selection of snacks, her gaze drifting past granola bars and potato chips to rest on a box of strawberry Pop-Tarts. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and then she felt dumb for crying over toaster pastries.

“You have a way to heat these?” she asked, picking up the box.

“There’s a toaster over there. Next to the coffee machine.”

She bought the Pop-Tarts and a sad-looking orange, then made her way to the coffeemaker where she filled up the biggest cup they had while she waited for her Pop-Tarts to get warm. She carried the whole thing out to the bench outside, surprised to realize how ravenous she was. She devoured the Pop-Tarts in seconds, eyes welling with tears as she licked the crumbs from her fingers. She ordered herself not to think about him, not to remember that slow, guarded smile or the broad hands on her back or the way he whispered in her ear as she was about to break beneath him.

Swallowing back emotion, Janelle reached into her purse and found the disposable phone Schwartz had mailed her before she’d made the trip to meet him. She was surprised to realize it still had a bit of a charge. Not much of one, but it wasn’t dead yet.