The Only Way Out

“Jump for the last bit,” she said.

“Okay.” He hunched up for the drop. She released him and he hit the ground in an exaggerated crouch. “Made it, Mom,” he said, grinning up at her.

His familiar smile made her weak with relief. Whatever Kray had done to him in the past three weeks, it hadn’t destroyed his spirit. Now they just had to get away and off this damned island.

Using her arms as leverage, she pushed hard off the plastic chair and turned as she moved through the air so that she landed on the windowsill on her hip. She pulled one leg up and through the window, then the other. Motioning Bobby to step back, she dropped to the ground, then picked up the screen.

The footsteps were definitely louder now.

“Bobby?” a female voice called. “You can’t stay in your room all morning. It’s a beautiful day. Would you like to play in the water?”

The footsteps got closer. Andie ducked down behind the building, knowing at any second the nanny was going to try the door and find it locked. She glanced around frantically, wondering which path would be the safest. Fear gripped her, but she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let Bobby know the danger they were in. He’d been through enough.

A sharp ringing cut through the silence. At first she thought she’d imagined the sound. Then she leaned against the villa and exhaled her relief. The footsteps moved away from Bobby’s room as the nanny went to answer the phone.

After closing the window, Andie leaned the screen against the glass, hoping it would take the nanny some time to figure out how Bobby had escaped. With any luck the other woman would search through the house before realizing her charge was gone.

They had a few more seconds reprieve. It would be enough. She took Bobby’s hand and led him around the villa, back toward the way she’d come. She’d left her rented Jeep about a half mile away. It was parked on the side of the highway. All they had to do was get away from the villa and into the low bushes and trees. The undergrowth would protect them. She should know. She’d spent most of yesterday and the four hours since dawn hidden by a small bush, praying no one would discover her. Just thinking about it made her feel itchy all over. For all she knew the plant had been poisonous, but it hadn’t mattered. Getting Bobby out alive was her only priority.

She kept moving and kept low, hugging the building, making sure they couldn’t be seen from the windows. Bobby trailed behind her. She reached back and pulled him close to her body. He looked worried. Why wouldn’t he be? They were escaping from the man who had casually walked into their town house and kidnapped him on the day of his fifth birthday.

Big hazel eyes stared up at her. She took the time to brush the hair from his flushed face and smile.

She picked him up. They would move faster with her carrying him. Besides, they were about to cross open ground. If someone did shoot at them, her body would protect Bobby. She shuddered, not able to believe what she was thinking. This was so far from her regular, boring life. Yet it was painfully real. Kray had threatened to kill her if she came after her son. She believed him.

“I love you, pumpkin,” she said.

“I’m not a pumpkin,” he answered, slipping into the familiar game. “I’m a boy.”

“Really?” She pretended to be surprised. After dropping a quick kiss on his forehead, she took one last look around. “We’re going to run to those trees there,” she said, pointing.

Bobby looked over his shoulder. “Are you going to go fast?”

“Yup.”

“So Daddy can’t find us?”

He was so young to have had to deal with everything that had happened. Her heart ached for him. But there was no time to discuss it. That would come later. When they got away. If they got away.

“Yes, Bobby. So Daddy can’t find us.”

He gripped her arms and buried his head in her shoulder. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Let’s go, she echoed silently. She moved between two large windows and stood up. The stucco building felt warm. She could feel the sweat on her back. Shorts would have been cooler, but she’d been afraid of getting scratched as she crawled through the brush on her way to the villa.

“Here we go,” she said softly, and took off across the manicured lawn.

She moved as quickly as she could, keeping low. Bobby clung to her like a burr, but his weight pulled at her and she could feel the strain on her back and shoulders. Her breath came in rapid pants. At any second she expected to hear the nanny yelling at her to stop. Her muscles tensed in anticipation of the gunshot that would follow, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to stop for anyone.

She ran hard and fast into the low brush and trees, slowing only to avoid a fall. Just a few more feet, she told herself. Then they would be out of view of the villa.

She circled around a tall mahogany tree and ducked behind it. Coming to a stop, she leaned against the massive trunk to catch her breath.

In between her rapid panting, she listened for the sound of someone following. Nothing. Just the call of the gulls and the crash of the waves on the shore. They’d made it.

Andie clutched Bobby closer and nuzzled his neck, making him giggle. She chuckled with him, then raised her head and took off to her right. After going about ten feet, she turned and doubled back.

Something moved. She spun around.

Her scream never got further than her throat. The man had appeared from nowhere. She’d never seen him in all the time she’d been waiting by the villa or heard him moving through the trees. Now he stood in front of her, dressed in military camouflage with a pistol pointing directly at her head.

Chapter 2

“Who the hell are you?” Jeff asked, staring at the woman clutching the child to her chest.

She blinked at him but didn’t answer. The boy in her arms twisted until he could see Jeff; then his mouth dropped open and fear filled his big hazel eyes.

“Mommy, that man has a gun.”

“Hush, Bobby, I know.”

The child looked to be about five or six. Not much older than J.J. had been when he’d been killed in the car explosion. Jeff didn’t want to think about that now. He glared at the woman in front of him. What was going on here? Who was the woman and what was she doing with that kid?

“Is he going to hurt us?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know.” She adjusted her hold on the boy, pulling him more securely against her. Long blond hair had been pulled back into a braid. Her face paled under her slight tan, her eyes were wide, her mouth trembling.

“Who are you?” she asked with an obvious effort to keep the fear from her voice. “What do you want?”

“That’s what I’d like to know about you. I saw you climb out of the villa with that kid.”

His gaze drifted over her cotton T-shirt and jeans. She wasn’t concealing a weapon. He flicked on the Beretta’s safety, then shoved the pistol into the holster attached to his waist.

Her breathing increased and he could smell her fear. The boy was confused, but not frightened. His mother looked as if she expected to have her throat slit.

“It has nothing to do with you,” she said, desperation adding an edge to her voice. She sidestepped him and continued moving away from the villa. “Please just let us go.”

“I can’t do that,” he said. Not after she’d seen him. Whatever kind of game she was playing with Kray, he didn’t want any part of it. Once his old enemy knew he was on the island, Jeff would be marked and hunted until they found him. Some woman with a grudge against her old lover wasn’t about to interfere with what he had to do.

She spun toward him. Blue eyes met his. He saw her panic. “Oh, God, you work for him.”

He didn’t answer.

“You’re going to kill me. No, you can’t. I won’t let you. He can’t have Bobby back. He can’t.”

She took off running. At first, Jeff was too startled to do more than stare after her. What the hell was she going on about? He didn’t look like one of Kray’s men. They dressed like businessmen and tourists. He glanced down at his camouflage fatigues. He looked as if he were going to lead jungle warfare exercises. But if she was with Kray, she should know all that. And if she wasn’t—

He loped after her, moving quietly through the dense brush. As he got closer, he heard the sound of her breathing. Bobby clung to her shoulder and stared behind them.

“I don’t see him, Mommy,” he said quietly.

“Good.”

“Was he going to hurt us?”

Jeff didn’t bother listening to her response. He circled around them and stepped into her path, two feet in front of her. She saw him and stopped instantly.

Perspiration had collected on her forehead and upper lip. A single drop rolled down to her damp T-shirt. It was barely after ten in the morning, but the temperature was already in the mid-eighties. Warm for late April in the Caribbean.

Her lips moved, but there was no sound. He realized she was praying. She started backing away from him.

“No,” she whispered. “No. No. No.” Her breathing came in rapid pants. The child clung to her.

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

This was more than a lover’s spat, he realized. She was genuinely terrified. “Who are you?” he asked, frustrated and confused. “What are you doing on Kray’s island and who is that kid?”

The woman stared at him, then bent over and let the boy slip to the ground. “Run,” she ordered him.

The child hesitated, hovering near her.

“Run!” she screamed.

Bobby took two steps away. Jeff moved toward him. The kid could get lost in the tropical jungle and not be found for weeks, if ever.

The woman sprang between him and her child. She raised her fists in front of her and balanced on the balls of her feet as if she expected him to physically fight her.

“Listen, lady, let’s just calm down.” He didn’t need a hysterical woman on his hands.

“Run, Bobby,” she called and lunged forward.

Jeff sidestepped neatly, letting her run harmlessly past him. The boy hovered by a large mahogany tree and clasped his arms tightly in front of him. He began to rock back and forth.

Jeff started toward him when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned to the right as the woman barreled into his left side. Before he could reach out and steady her, she’d curled her fingers into claws and started going for his eyes.

“Damn it, woman, be careful,” he muttered, grabbing her upper arms to hold her off.

She wrenched free of him and kicked at his knees. Great. She’s had just enough self-defense training to hurt herself, he thought grimly as he jumped out of the way and caught her neatly around her midsection. She screamed and fought him, her hands pulling at his hold. He hauled her hard against him. Her heel came down on his foot. He barely felt the impact through his heavy boots. Her elbow connected with his belly. He exhaled audibly.

Then something or someone rushed him. Small hands grabbed his shirt.

“You let go of my mommy. Let go!”

Jeff turned toward the boy. The woman took advantage of his distraction and went for his gun. He read her intentions before she even got close to the pistol, but it was enough. His brain shut down and he reacted instinctively.

His left hand clamped down hard on her right wrist. With one quick, fluid movement he jerked her arm around behind her, pinning her hand to her back. She winced in pain. He spun them both, putting the woman between him and the boy, then wrapped his right arm around her neck, cutting off her supply of air. He applied enough pressure to frighten her, but not enough to kill.

“Now that I have your attention,” he said softly, “you’re going to answer a few questions.”

He could feel the heat of her body and the curve of her breast where it brushed against his elbow. She trembled against him.

“I’m going to let you breathe enough to talk, but I’m not going to let you go. If you give me any more trouble, I’ll make you very uncomfortable. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

He loosened his hold on her throat. She gasped in a breath of air, then coughed. Bobby rushed at her. “Let her go! You let go of my mommy. My daddy will come back on his big boat and he’ll hurt you.”

Sunlight filtered through the trees and brush around them. The scent of the saltwater and the faint crash of the surf drifted toward them. Jeff stared at the boy, hearing his words, but not wanting to believe them.

The child moved closer and angrily swiped at the tears on his face. Sunlight caught the brown of his hair, then highlighted the shape of his nose and chin. Raw anger radiated from the child’s eyes. Anger so like another man’s rage.

“Let her go,” Bobby demanded again.

Jeff released the woman and stepped back. He bumped into a tree and grasped its smooth trunk for support. Bobby continued to glare at him. Those eyes, so large and expressive. So like his father’s.

Jeff swallowed hard, remembering another child with big eyes, a boy about four years old, laughing as he climbed down the plane’s steps and flew into his father’s arms.

“I crossed an ocean,” J.J. had said proudly as Jeff had swooped him up.

“Did you?”

“I wasn’t afraid.”

Jeanne had followed her son down the steps, moving a little slower, the long flight and time changes making her weary. “He’s not afraid of anything.”

Fierce pride had burned through Jeff, as though he had something to do with his child’s bravery. Perhaps he had taught him something about courage, but more likely, J.J. hadn’t encountered anything to be frightened of. He’d been surrounded by loving parents and family from the moment he’d been born.

So much life snuffed out by a single explosion. An explosion meant for his father.

Jeff stared at the boy in front of him, and at the woman crouched down beside him. She held the child to her and watched him fearfully, as if he’d gone mad. He had gone mad.

Loathing rose up inside of him until he could taste the bitterness. Hatred, anger, rage. Revenge.

He advanced slowly. “What’s your last name, Bobby?”

“C-Cochran,” the child answered.

There had been rumors, of course. Whispers of a brief marriage, hints of a child. But few had seen the mysterious woman or her son. Word on the street was that she’d left Kray after six months of wedded bliss. Kray had kept his secrets. And the woman had kept hers.

Jeff continued to approach. The woman stood up and moved the boy behind her.

“You can’t hurt him,” she said. “He’s just a boy.”

“He’s Kray’s son.”

“No. He’s mine. Until three weeks ago, he’d never even seen his father. He thought he was dead. Bobby is nothing like Kray. Nothing.” Her voice grew louder with each word.

“Mommy?” Bobby clung to her leg and whimpered.

Jeff reached for the custom grip of his pistol. His hand brushed against the cool steel. He froze. What the hell was he doing?

He shook his head to clear away the anger, then tamped down the remaining emotions. He couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of his job.

He gave the boy a half smile. “Don’t be scared, son. I won’t hurt you.”

Bobby sniffed, but didn’t release his death grip on his mother’s jeans.

Jeff returned his attention to the woman. She, too, had large eyes. High cheekbones sculpted her face. For the first time he realized she was beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks and make him think about the forbidden. Or beautiful enough to tempt a man to try to own her, much as Kray owned objects from all over the world.

“How old are you?” he asked Bobby.

“F-five.”

His gaze narrowed as he studied the woman. That meant she’d married Kray about six years ago. Six years ago, when J.J. had been three and growing faster than he’d believed possible. Six years ago, when Jeff’s marriage with Jeanne was crumbling around them and it didn’t seem to matter how much they’d been in love. Six years ago when his wife had accused him of loving his job more than he’d loved her and he’d known in his heart she was right.

Jeff moved closer. The woman froze in place. Fear flickered across her features, tightening her jaw and making her body tremble. But she didn’t back away. She kept herself between him and the boy.

Her run through the jungle and wrestling with him had loosened her braid. Strands of hair drifted across her shoulders. He reached forward. She flinched. Slowly he grabbed the loose hair and pulled it away from her face. His gaze narrowed as he studied her features. Six years ago she hadn’t been blond. He pictured her eyes green instead of blue, her hair cropped above the ears and bright red. His gaze flickered over her T-shirt and jeans. She hadn’t been as curvy then, or dressed so casually. He searched his memory recalling all the pictures of Kray he’d pored over, memorizing everything he could about the man.

One photograph clicked into place. He stared at the blonde, seeing instead a tall, painfully thin party girl in a designer gown. She’d been clinging to Kray’s arm, gazing up at him adoringly. The powerful telescopic lens had caught her perfect features, her wide eyes and mouth. He remembered everything and knew exactly who she was.

Jeff stepped back from her. “You’re the bimbo model.”

“And you’re some macho jerk who gets a kick out of frightening little boys.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’d always assumed Kray liked his women submissive and decorative. Guess I was wrong.”

“I was a great disappointment to him.”

He glanced at Bobby. “Obviously not. You’re the wife,” he said, wondering how any woman could become involved with low-life scum like Kray. Was it the money? The power? He shook his head. It didn’t matter. He didn’t have time for this.

“Ex-wife,” she said.

He ignored her, then glanced back the way they’d come and wondered how long it would be before someone noticed the kid was missing. Kidnapping Kray’s only son wasn’t going to make the crime lord happy. The woman was in a lot of trouble. No doubt she already knew that.

Damn. If only she hadn’t picked today to try her heroics. Kray would be dead by now and all their problems would be solved.

“Are you going to turn us over to him?” she asked.

He returned his attention to her. She’d squared her shoulders and folded her arms over her chest. Bobby still stood behind her, watching him warily. The kid had spunk, he thought, then frowned. It wasn’t right. Kray’s child lived and breathed while J.J. was long since dead and buried.

The familiar sense of loss swept over him, making him wonder if he would ever be able to look at a young boy and not think of his son.

“I won’t turn you in,” he said shortly and shifted his backpack. He wasn’t going to turn them in, but if he let her go, and she was captured by Kray’s men, she would tell them about him. Once they knew he was on the island, he would be dead before he got another shot at Kray.

He glanced up at the sun in the clear blue sky, then back at her. “You’ve got the boy. How did you plan to get away?”

She clamped her lips shut.

Great. “Listen, lady, I just saw you kidnap Kray’s son. If I was one of the bad guys, don’t you think I’d turn you in and get some kind of reward for my trouble? Kray would pay big money to get you and the kid back.”

She balled her hands into fists. “He doesn’t want me back. I told you, I’m his ex-wife. It’s been over five years since we—” She shook her head. “Why am I explaining this to you? I don’t even know who or what you are. Look at how you’re dressed. My God, you’re probably some paramilitary psycho who gets his kicks out of torturing innocent women and children.” Her voice trembled on each word, and by the end of her speech he could see she was fighting tears.

“Mommy?” Bobby looked up at her. “Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She blinked several times, then smiled down at her son. “I’m fine. We’re going to go now.” She took Bobby’s hand and turned away.

“Not so fast,” Jeff said, starting after her. “Not until I know exactly what is going on here.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “It’s not your business.”

“You made it my business when you crashed my party. I don’t trust you. You’re not going anywhere without me.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Help? If things hadn’t been so twisted, he would have laughed out loud. “Who said anything about help? Lady, I don’t care what happens to you. I just want to stay alive on this stinking island. You’re in my way. I want you out of my way. End of story.”

The woman recoiled visibly. “Don’t hurt my son,” she pleaded. “I don’t matter, but he does. Please, please just get him away from Kray. Bobby’s the innocent one in all of this. Surely you can see that. He didn’t even know who his father was. Kray had never even seen him until three weeks ago. I’m begging you, help him.”

“I won’t hurt the kid,” Jeff said in disgust. She was Kray’s ex-wife. She’d known what the man she’d married was and now she was paying the price. That wasn’t his problem. But he understood about the child being a victim. Like J.J. had been a victim. “I can’t let you tell Kray I’m here.”

She laughed. The sound had a slightly hysterical edge to it. “Mister, if he finds me, he’s not going to bother with questions. Trust me.”

“It’s not that simple.”

They stared at each other. The woman blinked first.

“I guess we have a standoff,” she said. “What happens now?”

“You tell me your plan and then I decide what to do with you.”

She swallowed hard. He could see her weighing her alternatives. Her gaze strayed to the gun at his waist.

“If I wanted you dead, it would have been done by now,” he said.

“Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

He shrugged. “If you don’t want me coming with you, then you’re coming with me. Willing or not.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That’s smart. But the way I see it, you don’t get a vote. I’m stronger, armed and I know what I’m doing.”

He could see her weighing her alternatives, and knew the moment she’d realized she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She must have figured out that he’d been telling the truth when he’d said if he’d wanted to kill her, she would be dead by now.

She’d been strong so far, but she was beginning to unravel around the edges. She had a lot of nerve to keep talking back to him. He would guess she was so close to the edge she either had to fight back as best she could, or fall off the other side. He gave her about four more hours on her own before she lost it completely. She didn’t know it yet, but he was her best hope for survival. What irony. Here he was, standing in the middle of some goddamn tropical jungle talking to Kray’s ex-wife. Somebody somewhere was having a good time at his expense.

“What do you want to know?” she asked quietly.

“A short version of the truth.”

She nodded. “I met Kray six and a half years ago while I was in Europe. I was young and stupid and…I suppose that’s no excuse, is it?”

Bobby crept out from behind her and stared up at him. Jeff forced himself to smile at the boy. The woman rested her hand on the child’s head.

“It was a whirlwind courtship. We were married for a short time. When I realized he wasn’t—” She paused, then grimaced. “When I found out what he was, I left.”

“I find it hard to believe he let you go.”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t nearly ornamental enough and was far too outspoken. I came back to the States and—Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not fit to clean your boots. You have a real attitude problem.”

Jeff stared at her. She was right. He did. He hated everyone involved with Kray. “An occupational hazard.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry.”

She crouched down next to her son. “I know you are, Bobby. You haven’t had any breakfast yet, have you?”

He shook his head.

She placed one knee on the ground and pulled a mangled roll out of her jeans pocket. “Here. Have this. We’ll get some more food later.”