- CHAPTER THIRTEEN -
SCOTCH
In my panic I began to half sprint, stumbling in the shadows. The hotel lights illuminated the side of something huge up ahead. A gentle snort and the scent of horses helped me regain my sense of direction. The barn.
Breathing heavily, I put my palm on the rough wood. I need to think. He told me to run, that has to mean he’s afraid for me. Ice chilled my veins. What if Darien died and now he can’t clear my name so everyone thinks I’m a murderer and and and—
“Hello?” a voice hushed at me.
Yanking my hand off the barn, I squinted at the figure partially illuminated by the white ball-shaped lamps. Lulabelle was wearing a pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, her hair undone so the late-season wind curled it into lazy loops. Anyone else in such a ridiculous getup would have been a giant joke. This woman . . . she still looked as elegant as a queen in her court.
“Heather?” she asked. My belly did a tiny flip; hearing that name reminded me of why I was running. “What’s wrong? You’re white as a ghost.”
I started toward her. Then I backed away. Both of us sensed my distrust. She moved her eyes over my shoulder; I copied her nervously, half twisting to see if Maverick had followed me.
She whispered, “Someone is after you.”
I spun back around so sharply that my neck spasmed. “I—how did you . . .”
The smile she wore was apologetic. “Let’s just say I’m familiar with being chased.” Her eyes narrowed. “Who’s after you?”
Once more I cast a wary look at the hotel behind me. Some of the windows were lit up; I pictured Maverick behind one of them, gazing down at the grounds and searching for me. There was a chance he wasn’t looking for me at all; he’d let me leave, so clearly he had no idea who I was. But what if Costello had betrayed me by now and told him?
Run. He told me to run. Until I knew more . . . that was what I’d do.
My hand closed on Lula’s. “I need a car.”
Her moon-colored skin was so much like Costello’s, but where he was made from fire, she was as cool as the grass beneath my naked feet. “Tell me why, then I might.”
What choice did I have? It wasn’t as if I could hot-wire a car. Hiding in the woods was bad, too; I’d freeze before the sun came up. “I’m . . . kind of the main suspect in a violent assault. I swear I’m innocent, though.” Imploring her with my eyes, I squeezed her hands harder. “More importantly, someone I trust just told me to run. So I need to run.”
Lula breathed in deeply. Her fingers twitched on mine, then she let me go. “In the parking lot there’s a white Charger. Wait there for me.” I found the car sitting among all the other expensive-looking vehicles. I ducked behind the rear wheels, my chest straining under my tight half breaths.
Each minute that passed without her arrival made my tongue tingle with nerves. I could taste my own fear, metallic and sour. I was debating checking the other cars until I found one with keys left inside when footsteps scuffed on the asphalt.
Standing, I peered into the darkness, my voice a whisper. “There you are! I was starting to think you’d . . .” My sentence faded into the air. Lulabelle had indeed come back, but she wasn’t alone.
Costello was wearing his leather jacket over the button-down shirt from the wedding. The vest was gone, and seeing that reminded me of how I’d peeled it from his solid body.
His lips were in a neutral line, the centers of his eyes two black abysses swimming in pure frost. It took some effort, but I managed to look from him to his sister. Had she betrayed me? Had she gone looking for someone from her family to help her catch me before I could flee? She didn’t know Costello had been on my side; what other reason could she have than to seek him out as backup?
I tensed, ready to sprint off into the parking lot. Costello exploded forward, all muscle, a blur of long arms and legs. One hand snatched my wrist, the other covering my mouth. “Shh,” he hissed. “Relax. She brought me here to help.”
My heart was in my throat; I couldn’t have screamed anyway.
“She’s smart,” Lula chuckled. “She knows not to trust this family.” He shot her a quick look. She melted under it, stunning me with how tenderly she put her hand on his shoulder. “That came out wrong.” Her eyes danced to me. “You can trust Costello. Out of everyone in this family, he doesn’t break his word when it matters most.”
Lula’s breath fogged the air, lingering long after her heavy promise. She’s speaking from experience, I thought. What secret did these two share? I vowed I’d find out—but not now. There wasn’t time.
Costello looked uncomfortable. Turning back to me, he eased his palm off my lips. “Sorry,” he said. “I just didn’t want you to alert anyone about what we’re doing.”
“What are we doing?” I asked, rubbing my mouth—not to be rid of his taste, just to feel the fleeting remnant of his body heat.
“Running,” he said, standing tall and searching the area. “Before Dad realizes I’m about to do the opposite of what I told him.” A shiver brought my teeth together. Without pretense he slid his jacket off and draped it over me. “You’re cold, put this on.”
I was delighted to be swimming in his warmth and scent again.
Lulabelle handed him a set of keys. “Get moving. I’ll tell Dad I gave you my car because you didn’t bring one. Hopefully he won’t guess you betrayed him.”
Betrayed. It was such a severe word. Again and again, Costello kept risking his reputation . . . his life . . . all for me. What could motivate a man to act so recklessly? I know he promised I’d be okay, but is a promise really worth all of this?
He opened the driver’s side door. “We have to leave, Scotch.”
“Scotch,” Lula repeated. She hugged herself like she was cold, except she didn’t shiver. Not even a bit. “So that’s your real name.”
I debated how to answer her. “It does the job.” Reaching out, I scooped up her wrists. “Hey . . . thank you. You didn’t need to help. I mean, you barely know me.”
She stared down at my hands as if she’d never seen them before. Under her thick lashes, her eyes had no shine. “My father has a history of shooting first, asking questions later. Especially when it comes to what he thinks is best for this family. It’s not like I could have looked the other way.”
Costello was sitting with one leg out of his door. “We need to leave. Now.”
The two of them shared a look. Lula released me, then bent down to offer me her slippers. “Take these. Now you’ll be wearing one of my full ensembles.”
Touching my sweater, I turned cherry red. “I didn’t know these were—”
She shoved the slippers at me. “It’s fine. That’s old stuff, I haven’t seen any of it since I left years ago. I’m actually surprised anyone kept it after all this time.” Her words were cryptic, and she stiffened as if she’d just realized what she’d said. “Take these and go before my brother pops a vessel.”
The car was already warm when I climbed inside. But the slippers on my feet were warmer. With a final wave at Lula, Costello drove us out of the lot and into the night.