The alarm blared, a wavering siren that pierced the night. I leapt to my feet, my stool clattering to the kitchen floor.
Elise clapped her hands to her mouth. âSomeoneâs breaking in.â
âI think so. Weâve got to get out of here.â
âHang on. What if theyâre upstairs?â She swung around and grabbed her phone from the countertop. âAustin sent me a link to the cameras. Here.â
Earlier today, while sheâd been sleeping, Iâd carried out a proper recon of the holiday home, noting the exits and any vulnerable windows. Iâd worked out how to activate the alarm system and now stared at the patchwork of camera views on Eliseâs screen.
She tapped on the first tile, and it filled the screen. A slice of the dark street displayed, empty of cars or people.
Side by side, we scanned the picture.
âNothing.â
She tapped an arrow to go to the next camera. Then on again.
Thank Christ for Austin and his excellent security setup.
At her next tap, something moved in the corner of the shot. We both froze, staring at the shadow.
âWhat are we looking at?â Elise whispered, fear in her tone.
âThe garage.â
We were only one floor up from an intruder.
Adrenaline punched through my muscles, preparing me for a fight.
Iâd already locked the internal door from the garage to the kitchen, and now swung around for the darkened stairs, gripping Eliseâs hand in mine. She jogged along with me, no hesitation.
At the bedroom floor, with the alarm still yowling, we kept going up until we entered the lounge then flew into the master bedroom.
âGet dressed. Grab your things,â I said low.
In thirty seconds, weâd thrown on our clothes and packed our bags. If anything had been left behind, too bad.
As I moved, I considered the options for how we could escape. With the intruder in the garage, that ruled out the main entrance. A second exit led from the bedroom floor to a fire escape and an alley that ran down the side of the house. Protected by the high fence, it would either give us a safe route out or leave us as sitting ducks.
The priority was getting Elise away from the danger. Being chased by photographers was one thing, but to have them, or an unknown entity, break into the house was entirely different.
Whoever this was meant business.
One thing was for certain, I wouldnât let Elise out of my sight.
With our bags over my shoulder, I pulled Elise closer and gestured for her to lift her phone. Now, the garage camera showed no movement, and we scrolled through the other views. No one could be seen.
Abruptly, the alarm cut out.
I put my mouth close to Eliseâs ear. âThereâs a side exit. Weâll leave the house by that, then weâre going to need to sprint fast.â
She shivered but gave a swift nod.
There was nothing for it but to make our escape.
One flight down, we paused in the stairwell. No sound came from the house, no creak of footsteps, and no lights shone. The exit waited at the end of the corridor.
I took a step into the hall.
A crack resounded, followed by the tinkle of broken glass from the kitchen below.
âShit,â Elise hissed.
As one, we darted for the external door, the sound of the waves louder here. Not that long ago, we had been on the beach and swimming. I was a fucking idiot.
I swung it open.
The alarm shrieked once more.
Fuck!
We both put our heads down and fled, down the steps and into the alley. Here, we had a choice. Either head out along the beach or take the street. On the road, weâd be faster. Plus there was more opportunity for finding a taxi or perhaps another place to hide.
The shadows concealed us. The alley ended right next to the garage door, but at least we knew that the intruder was likely still inside.
I yanked open the gate, took a fast glance around, then gave Elise a nod. Without further pause, we ran.
Of all the strategies we could have deployed for evading danger, this had to be the worst. An unfamiliar town, in the middle of the night, with no clear place to go. For all we knew, the paparazzi from earlier still hunted us. More couldâve been alerted.
The alarm alone would draw attention.
Up a quiet street we jogged, tall skinny palm trees marking our path. I followed Eliseâs better sense of direction, keeping pace with her.
Several streets clear from the house, Elise wrestled her phone from her bag, found something on the screen, then raised it to her ear. âAustin, Iâm really sorry but thereâs been a break-in at your house. We had to run.â
I couldnât hear the answer but I picked up the stress in the tinny response.
âYeah, call the cops. But weâre not there now and we had to abandon our rental car. I need another favour. We need transport. Do you have a friend or someone nearby who can loan us a vehicle right now?â
She listened, her breathing coming hard, though weâd slowed to a fast walk. âThe guy who runs the steakhouse? I remember.â
She hung up and gestured down the road. âAustinâs friend bought his car when he moved, but doesnât drive it very much. Heâs going to call him and ask if we can borrow it. He lives a few blocks this way.â
âPerfect.â
âBut where do we go? I guess the safest thing is to drive home.â
We kept moving, but even though my attention was fully on our surroundings, I couldnât help the feelings tightening my gut.
Going to Eliseâs family home meant an end to our time together.
Despite the urgency, the danger we were in, even as we drove power into our legs to reach the restaurant, that unhappy sense wouldnât leave me.
At the steakhouse, a bleary-eyed man in his fifties waited by the entrance. He scowled, showing no recognition for Elise, and held a set of keys. âAustin said his niece was coming. That you?â
Elise summoned an award-winning smile and pressed her hands together. âI canât thank you enough for this.â
The man huffed. âWell, he said you had an emergency. It better be important for waking me in the middle of night.â
âIt really is, youâre a lifesaver. The car will be returned soon. Weâll take good care of it.â
âTell Austin he owes me big time.â
He handed over the keys, pressing a button. Farther down the street, a Cadillacâs headlights blinked to life. Our ride.
We thanked him again and jogged to the car.
Elise widened her eyes, her expression mirroring how I felt. The huge silver Caddie gleamed. It had none of the security of the Lincoln, no tinted windows, and I had concerns over pushing it too hard if we were chased, but we couldnât go any farther on foot.
We got in, and I started the engine.
A satisfying roar claimed the night air, but I didnât wait around to see if it gathered attention. We had to get away, now.
Next to me in the passenger seat, Elise curled in on herself. With her blonde hair still damp from our swim, and my oversized hoodie swamping her, sheâd transformed from being the angry, righteous, and strong woman to small and vulnerable.
Over and over, waves of emotion smacked into me. But I kept my mouth closed and followed her directions back to the freeway. We were a couple of hours outside of her city. Probably less with light traffic.
All I wanted to do was drive in the opposite direction, south, not north. Far away from Los Angeles.
I kept a lookout for anyone pursuing us, but no one hugged our path. No other cars accelerated toward us.
For a long while, we just drove.
Eliseâs voice broke my misery, and tension played out in her tone. âWeâre almost there. I had all these plans.â
I hid a sigh. âTo carry on the investigation.â
âNot that. Plans with you. I was going to show you San Diego and the places Dad and I used to go. Balboa Park. The beaches. And then I wanted to give you the highlights of LA, too.â
Her sentence drifted off, because we both knew that this had ended.
Though she hadnât heard from her blackmailer, the attack at the festival, the car chase, and the break-in all pointed to something far more dangerous. We were now on the run, and I couldnât protect her on my own. Nor was I fool enough to try.
Earlier, Iâd spoken to Gordain again. Heâd given me a talk on how to handle an escalating situation in case photographers discovered us. We were in a worse version of that scenario now. It couldnât be ignored.
She needed a safe house. Greater security. More than me.
The car punched into the black night, and I summoned my strength. âIâve had a blast with ye, princess.â
Elise uttered a sound of sheer frustration. âThereâs a place I used to run. Itâll be dawn soon. We can at least have breakfast then watch the sunrise together, beforeâ¦â
Before she and I were done.
I peered in the rearview to check the road behind. Weâd got away from La Jolla safely, I was reasonably certain. If she wanted this with me, even if it shredded my heart, sheâd have it.
At a roadside diner, Elise hunkered down in the car, and I ordered pancakes and coffee, their first customers of the day. Then we drove away from city streets and into the hills, following signs for Griffith Observatory while a pink sky glimmered overhead.
After winding to the top of a twisty, yellow-dust road, Elise indicated to a lay-by, and I pulled over.
âIâm an idiot.â She stared at the ridges of dirt and scrubby plants. âI brought you here because this is the hike to see the Hollywood sign. But that means getting out and walking. We canât do that. We canât go anywhere.â
I didnât care about seeing the sights. As pretty as they might be, I couldnât care about any of it. If weâd had the extra day or two weâd wanted, Iâd be telling her how I felt. That every time I saw her pretty smile, my stomach flipped. When she spoke to me, I was the luckiest man alive for having her attention. The way her eyes danced in amusement when she teased me woke up my senses. The bonnie Californian lilt to her voice populated my inner monologue.
Iâd never had feelings for a lass, but I had them for her. Hard and fast and serious.
To tell her any of this would be an exercise in cruelty. She didnât need my pain to add to hers.
âNae bother,â I muttered.
We picked at our food, neither of us hungry. I stayed alert for early-morning hikers or other cars. Elise had tucked her blonde hair inside her baseball cap, but my worry couldnât ease. Together we watched the dawn escape.
I gritted my teeth. âWe should get going. Iâm sorry I couldnae help you with your mystery.â
âDonât leave me,â she said fast. âItâs going to be hell at my place. Everyoneâs going to want a piece of me. Iâm going to be ruining plans, and theyâll be pissed.â
She needed an ally.
It was only delaying the inevitable, and though it turned my heartache into keen pain, I pulled her along the bench seat and into my arms. Then I buried my face in her neck.
Likewise, she tucked into me. So close, not even air could come between us. We kept our tight hold for longer than we should. But both of us needed this.
A goodbye.
âIâll brief your security people and stay as long as I can,â I murmured, the only words I could summon.
Yellow sunlight filled the car. Reluctantly, Elise and I withdrew into ourselves, and I drove down the hill. Then we were into the city and out of our world of two.
On Santa Monica Boulevard, a wide street bordered by businesses and smart shops, Elise sat up abruptly. âHold up.â
I slowed, and she glued herself to the window.
On the pavement, two women walked with a small child. They stopped outside the building, and the younger woman kissed the little girl on the forehead then waved as she went inside with the older woman.
âWant me to pull over?â
âOh yes. I know we donât have time, but there is no way on this planet Iâm not about to have this showdown.â
âWho is she?â
âKessler Matthews. The woman who took the shot in the Highlands.â
Energy and fucking indignance shot through me. That photographer was the reason behind so much of Eliseâs hurt.
âStay here. Iâll fetch her for ye.â I jerked the car to a halt then climbed out and jogged across to intercept the woman, still outside the building. Rosebuds preschool, the sign read.
I pointed at the photographer. âKessler Matthews. My name is Cameron McRae. I have someone who wants to talk to ye.â
Kessler blinked at me and pushed her dark hair behind her ear. âWhat? Who wants to talk to me?â
âMe,â a voice came from behind. Elise waited in my shadow.
Kesslerâs jaw dropped. âOh shit.â She fumbled for her purse, but Elise reached and yanked it from her grip.
âOh no. Youâre not taking a picture of me this time.â Her eyes brightened to a shade of crazy.
I stepped to create a shield between her and any onlookers.
âListen up. Iâve got thirty seconds to tell you exactly what you did to me.â
Kessler backed against the wall. âI didnât meanâ¦â
Elise cut her off. âYou donât get to talk. You just have to listen. When Iâve said my piece, weâll go.â Her cheeks flushed red, but she didnât drop Kesslerâs gaze. âWhat you did almost destroyed me. I was at one of the lowest points in my life, and you exposed me to the world. You degraded me and hurt me, and that makes you the worst kind of person. You did it all for moneyââ
Kessler gave a short cry. âI did it for my mom. She was sick.â
âAre you kidding me? I hear this every single time from every member of your tribe. Donât give me that.â
âIâm telling the truth. That little girl my nonna is checking into daycare is my baby sister. I look after her now because Mom died.â
Elise pulled up short, and Kessler continued fast.
âYes, I chased you down from LAX to Scotland, and yes, I sold you out. It took me until my last few hours in the country to find you again, and only because I worked out your connection to Leo, but the pictures I took of you at the doorway letting your boyfriend in wouldnât cut it. I had to sell that one dirty shot. I hate myself for it, but I would have done anythingâ¦â She blinked, and a silver tear ran down her cheek. âI did everything I could to save Mom. She had heart disease and needed surgery. The money I got enabled us to greenlight it with the hospital. But then she had a heart attack and died on us anyway.â
Elise opened her mouth and closed it again abruptly.
Her da had heart trouble, then heâd died unexpectedly.
Kessler swiped her eyes. âI donât expect you to care, but Iâm not a terrible person. I didnât do it for myself, and I would never do it again. Iâm sorry, okay?â She snatched her bag from Eliseâs grip, pushed between us, and fled into the preschool building.
We stared after her for a second, then I hustled Elise back into the car.
âIâve wanted to do that for so long. Why did it only make me feel worse?â
I started the engine and got back into the traffic. There was no answer I could give. Just the same, Iâd pictured finding the perpetrator of that crime over and over. The photographer didnât deserve forgiveness, but to hear her reasoning shook up my indignation.
It only added to the mix of feelings I already couldnât handle.
East of the city, we entered the quieter streets of Beverly Hills. The traffic grew sparser and the houses bigger, and we arrived at the entrance to a gated community, then on through tall trees, winding views, and up to another set of gates.
A guard peered inside, and Elise removed her cap. He barked something into his radio then waved us on, the gates sliding out to reveal a sprawling and modern white house sitting in manicured grounds.
Before we could say another word to each other, people descended on the car. My door was opened by a huge, shaven-headed man, a gun holstered at his hip. On the other side, a woman pulled Elise upright.
âHey, Janelle,â Elise mumbled.
The man at my door cast a cursory gaze over me. âIâm going to need a conversation with you, son.â
His uniform and attitude screamed long-suffering head of security. Perhaps from him I could find out more about the rogue guard his agency hadnât run good enough background checks on.
I turned to say something, anything to Elise, but she had already been swept away.
Comments(0)
Join the discussion — sign in to leave a comment
Sign In to CommentNo comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts!