The Switch (15 page)

Shelby uncurls herself from the ball she’s wound herself in. I reach out my hand and we stand together.

“You’re willing to risk your job for me?”

“Yeah, I guess I am. Now can we stop with the morbid lovey-dovey shit and get on the road, please?”

Her lip juts out, and she nods her head slowly.

Before we leave the cabin, I grab the goons’ wallets and their guns with a plastic bag in an attempt to protect the integrity of their prints. I toss them in another plastic bag and put them in the cab of the truck with the shotgun. I don’t really know what protocol is here, so I
’m taking them with me, just in case. Last but not least, I grab that stupid fucking diamond everybody is making such a stink about.

A part of me feels like we’re leaving something important. Not an object. I’ve checked
, and we have everything we need. If I were a sappy guy, I’d probably think of the cabin as the beginning of us. If any place is symbolic of our relationship, it’s this cabin.

CHAPTER 20

Shelby

I think I’m in love with you.

CHASE PULLS OFF
the I-10 and follows the signs toward the airport.

I’ve been formulating a plan our entire ride here. In the nearly two hours we’ve been on the road
, I’ve gone over every scenario I can think of.

First I considered luring Chase out of the truck and taking the truck to go meet Victor. The trouble with that plan is it would leave them out in the open like sitting ducks. The second option was to try and hold Chase at gunpoint again. Unfortunately I’m kind of falling for him
, and I’m pretty sure shooting him would put a damper on our courtship. The last option is what I’m left with. I’m just going to have to wait until I have an opening to sneak away and contact Victor. When that’ll be, I have no idea.

“So what’s the plan?” I ask. I’ve spent the entire time silently caught up in my own plan that I hadn’t even thought to ask Chase what he
’s been planning.

“We’re going to get to the airport and pick everyone up. Then we’ll check into a hotel,” he says.

I stay quiet for a moment, considering this. I eye Chase even though it’s dark out. I’m not certain, but I’m thinking the stress of the situation has gotten to him. We’re in a truck. As in, there are two, maybe three seats available.

“Uh,” I mumble as I look behind me
the truck bed, worried that he expects my mother and father to ride back there, “we’re in a truck.”

Chase moves closer and slings his free arm over my shoulders
, pulling me in. A slight smile tugs at his lips. He stares at the road intently and then places a quick kiss atop my head before his eyes return to the road again. Then he breaks into this glorious, earth-shattering smile.

“Holy shit,” he says.

I scoot closer to him, practically tucked into his side, and smile at him. I don’t have even a fraction of a clue as to why he’s smiling so large, but it seems like a good thing, so I smile, too.

“What is it?”

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says.

I stop breathing immediately and just stay there in that moment for a while, letting his words play in my head on repeat.

I think I’m in love with you.

I think I’m in love with you.

Holy shit is right.

“We’re in a truck,” I say. My words come out breathy
, and I realize a moment too late that I’ve said the wrong thing. “I mean . . .” I trail off.

Chase bursts into a fit of laughter and tightens his grip around my shoulders. His smile brightens the entire cab of the truck and makes the situation seem less bleak.

For the first time since meeting Chase, I let myself consider where I’d be without him. Sure, back at the cabin I was grateful to have him to help me out in my state of limited mobility, but I still had it in my head that he went and mucked everything up by being a cop and having to do the “right” thing.

“I
know
I’m in love with you,” I say. The words spill out of my mouth before I can stop them. And it’s terrifying. But I love it. I feel alive in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. Not with all of the danger and excitement going around. I feel alive, like for the very first time there’s a reason to be good and to not take the easy way out. And I’m in love. Completely. And totally.

“I’m in love with a cop.” I sound a little astonished
, even to my own ears.

Chase steals quick glances away from the road and grins at me.
“You love me, huh?”

I curl closer into
his side, ignoring the seatbelt cutting into my lap, and turn my head, placing a kiss on his bicep.

“I do,” I admit.

We enter the airport’s maze of directions, and Chase surprises me by turning toward the long term-parking. I open my mouth to ask him why we’re not just swinging by the terminal, when he opens his mouth and then closes it. He waits another moment before speaking.

“Hold up, babe. We just said we love each other. No need to try to drag me off to the church or anything. You save that ‘I do’ business, got it?”

My laughter fills the cab of the truck. Chase parks in the departing flights area and near Concourse D. The moment he gets out, he takes several long strides around the truck and toward my side. I open the door and swing my legs out.

Before I can hop down, Chase slides his body between my legs and takes my face in his hands. His lips crash onto mine
, and we celebrate our admission properly. Our lips and tongues fight for dominance, as if to argue who loves who more. Eventually we break away, breathing heavy and faces flushed.

“God, I love you,” he whispers. I let out a breathless chuckle and peck his lips. “After this shit is over, I’m going to keep you naked for like a week.”

We stay there for another minute with soft kisses and breathless whispers until I pull back and look at him in all seriousness.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” I say.

“I won’t. As long as you’re safe, I’m safe. And I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

There it is—the previously unspoken promise of loyalty that I feared. Chase is good, too good to be caught up in this mess, not that he seems to care.

“I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Then don’t,” he simply says
, and like that, the lovey stuff is over and done with.

Now that we’ve talked about our feelings
, I feel even guiltier about my plan to undermine his efforts to keep me safe.

It’s just that I’ve gone ahead and
inadvertently screwed things up my entire life, and right now I have the chance to do something good and to protect the people I love. . .
all
the people I love. My parents and Becca, and Chase and his family. I don’t even know his mother and father, but knowing him, I love them already.

And as dangerous and cliché and stupid as it is, in my brain we’ve already walked down the aisle and have a couple of kids. We’re old and gray
, and we’re sitting on our front porch in our rocking chairs as we watch our grandkids and dogs play in the front yard.

Nowhere in that fantasy does an ankle monitor, an orange prison jumpsuit, and a criminal record come into play. And just like that
, my perfect life with Chase comes crashing down to reality, and I take a moment to realize that I’m going to need one damn big miracle to get myself out of this pickle.

But I don’t have time to dwell on that now
, because Chase is pulling me out of the truck and we’re walking toward the terminal to do God only knows what.

He isn’t much for explaining
. He just walks with determined strides, slow and mindful of my injured leg. Suddenly I realize what we’re wearing. Chase is still in his pajama pants and T-shirt. I’m in an outfit much the same as his. We’re both wearing old, beat-up sandals. Neither of us is dressed for running. I at least managed to grab my bra and put it on before we left, so there’s that.

We walk into the terminal
, and I’m immediately greeted with the sight of my mother. She looks years older and quite terrified. The moment our eyes lock, she runs up to me and we embrace. She lets her bag drop to the floor. I unabashedly let the tears spill out of my eyes.

In times of distress there’s nothing like being with
my mama. No matter how old I get, she’s always the cure for whatever ails me. I love my father, as well—he’s always going to be Daddy—but he’s the fixer. My mom’s all about the comfort, and he’s all about figuring out how to solve the issue.

When we pull away
, I see that she’s crying, as well. My father stands behind her, and his deep-set eyes are clouded with worry. He’s watching me in a way that makes me nervous, like he knows something I don’t. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t know anything. Well, I can’t exactly help him there. Chase has left us all mostly in the dark. Speaking of Chase . . .

I look to my right and see him standing with an older, taller man who’s as skinny as a bean pole. He has Chase’s dark hair
, though it’s speckled with gray, and a leathery complexion from years of working offshore, I’m guessing. Chase’s arms are wrapped around a woman of medium height with pitch-black hair. I can’t see anything else as his body is blocking hers, but her arms are wrapped around his midsection. After a beat, he turns and she pulls herself away from his chest. She has a large beach bag on her arm, and his father has two black duffle bags in his hands.

Chase is speaking rather quickly, trying to explain the situation
, I guess. I don’t have any idea what he’s going to tell his parents. I mean, I kind of hope he doesn’t share everything with them. I’d like for them to like me, and him introducing me as the felon who caught his heart isn’t likely the way to go about it.

Chase walks over with his parents
, and without any preamble, he says, “Cab. Now.” Then he turns and walks outside.

His mother’s eyes find mine
, and we size each other up for a good bit. I have every intention of staying in her son’s life if I can help it, so I better figure out how to get along with this woman. I give her the faintest of smiles, but she doesn’t return it.

Her small, dark brown eyes are rimmed in red, irritated skin. She’s obviously been crying. Her complexion is slightly yellow under the florescent lights
, and I wonder where she’s from. She looks like she could have been an exotic beauty back in the day. She’s of medium build, and her face is complemented with very averagely pretty features. Her nose isn’t too small, nor is it too big, as are her lips and her chin. As we walk to the two waiting cabs, I make a mental note to ask Chase about her one day.

We break into two groups. Chase walks to his parents’ cab and tells the driver where to take them, though where it is I can’t hear
, and then the cab speeds away. I begin to panic, wondering why the cab left without Chase, but my mother pushes me into the cab regardless. I climb into the cab as gently as possible and move to the far end to make room for my mother and father, who climb in after me.

It isn’t until we’re in our rooms at the hotel that I’m left alone.
Sitting on the bed, with my cell in hand, I take several deep breaths, talking myself up, I swipe the screen over Victor’s name in my contact list and wait while it connects. The phone rings twice before Victor picks up.

I remind myself that I’m doing this for Chase. So far, we have no leads, nobody on the force who’s clean enough to work with us, and eventually we’re going to run out of money. If there’s one thing I know about running, it’s that it gets expensive and quick.

“Shelby, Shelby, Shelby.” He snickers into the receiver. His voice, smooth and knowing, used to be attractive. He’s always been so sure of himself, so confident, that I was drawn to him. He also kept up this mask of kindness, and he had a wicked sense of humor. Still, I feel nothing but hatred for the man on the other end of the line. “Nice of you to call. Becca and I have had to find some . . . creative means of amusing ourselves.”

The air in my lungs leaves me
, and I’m breathless. There’s so much to that implication that my brain cannot even begin to imagine the despicable things he’s done in the name of creativity.
Becca
. Gathering my strength, I clear my throat and say what I’ve meant to.

“That’s not how I wanted it to go down at the warehouse, Victor. I had every intention of bringing you the diamond like we planned. Chase was an
 . . . unfortunate complication.”

As the words leave my mouth, a sour taste overcomes me. My stomach churns with nerves. I hate that I’m disregarding Chase like this, even if I’m doing it for him. I absolutely hate having to say the words. They couldn’t be f
urther from the truth.

“No?” he asks, his voice a pitch higher than before.

I let out a fake exasperated breath and force a chuckle even though I can practically feel myself turning green with dread.

“Listen, enough about that. I want to make this right. I have the diamond. Let’s make the trade like we planned.”

“Like we planned? Oh no,” he says with a sleazy curl to his words. “I’m going to need something more than the diamond now, Shelby.”

I close my eyes and grit out the only response I can give.
“What’s that, Victor?”

“You.”