Chapter Fifteen

Luke glanced to his right in time for amber light to wash over Claire’s face. She was sleeping, which brought him a small measure of peace after a long day.

Weighing everything now as he headed out of town on the last leg of their journey, he knew he should be glad they’d made it out. And he was. But it hadn’t been anything he’d want to do again.

Like the seven hours he’d spent with Detectives Arellano and Fisher.

He had a hard time believing neither of them was dirty, or at least being pushed from behind by the large, firm hand of one Vance Ballard. Weston still couldn’t offer insight into the two of them, which meant he had no way of smoothing things over or asking them to pull back a little. They weren’t his former colleagues, unlike the local San Antonio cops.

Luke had known that going in.

But seven hours of constant questions had worn his nerves to their breaking point. No amount of preparation could keep his frustration at bay, though he’d fought against it until the end. He repeated the story he and his brothers had come up with, right down to the smallest detail, giving neither detective so much as an inch they could slide a wedge into.

If he’d been frustrated, they’d been near the end of their ropes by the time the questioning wrapped up. It was clear they had an end in mind, a goal—drawing connections between him and Claire, figuring out what role he played in this. Whether they could use him to get to her or not.

They’d had no idea who they were dealing with going into the questioning. He figured they had a pretty good idea by the time they’d finished, though.

“Do you really want to protect a murderer?” Fisher had asked more than once.

“You know she shot that cop, too, right?” Arellano had demanded. Luke still wondered, hours later, how much the two of them knew. Whether they believed Claire had been behind it or if they were aware of Ballard’s henchmen.

Better to stick to the prepared answers Weston had helped coach him through before the interrogation. Claire was appealing, big-eyed and in need of protection. He hadn’t asked too many questions because he couldn’t have imagined she’d be wrapped up in something this big. She’d asked for help, had made him feel like the only one who could provide it—she’d played on his protective instincts.

Even as the words had soured in his mouth, he’d watched understanding dawn on the faces of the men in front of him. Probably identifying with the sentiment. He was surprised his teeth were still intact after grinding them so hard.

In the end, there’d been no way to prove he wasn’t telling the full truth, and no way to connect him and Claire. Even if they knew about her time in the Skyline Park group home, his name hadn’t been Patterson then.

His release had come as a relief, but not a total win because they’d still be watching.

Which meant doing something he couldn’t have imagined being capable of at this particular time—going into the office like it was an ordinary day and pretending to work for hours. All that had kept him in place was knowing Claire was safe. Brax had taken her someplace and was guarding her while Luke and the rest kept up the charade of everything being status quo.

One memory of those long, tense hours made him smile—the fact that two weeks’ worth of filing had been done for him by Maci Ford, the new office manager his brothers had hired. His office was much easier to kill time in without those files staring at him. It would be nice to meet the person responsible for that.

Once this was over. Once life felt like life again.

For the afternoon, all he could do was look forward to being with Claire. He trusted Brax with his life, but there was nothing that could touch the certainty of having her in his arms. Seeing as how Brax couldn’t tell him where he’d planned to take Claire for the sake of keeping Luke honest when he claimed he had no idea where she was, his anxiety had been through the roof.

Even Luke was impressed with what his brother had come up with. Chance always was the tactical mastermind. He’d found four cars of the same make and model, and working together, they’d crisscrossed all over town. Trading cars in parking lots, beneath overpasses. Talking on the phone all the while, just in case anyone was listening, comparing notes on their favorite teams and player stats the way any group of brothers would. Like there was nothing out of the ordinary going on.

That was what outsiders didn’t understand, and it was the Pattersons’ most powerful weapon—the fact that they were brothers, not simply business associates. They’d go out of their way to have one another’s backs, would spend hours leading anyone on their trail on a wild-goose chase. All for the sake of protecting one of them.

And what mattered most in the world to him.

After two hours, Luke had finally landed in the car holding Claire and Khan in the back seat, the two of them lying low to avoid notice. That was when he’d finally been able to breathe without a weight on his chest. Chance had continued the game with the tail following his car, thinking Luke was the driver.

Luke, meanwhile, was on his way out of town with his woman and her cat-dog safe and secure.

He was only a few miles away from his destination. Nobody knew about this place. It wasn’t even on the grid, using a generator and solar panels to keep it powered up. The perfect hiding spot.

Though that wasn’t what his parents had intended, obviously. Back in the day, it was a getaway. Somewhere to disconnect from the pressures of the world, somewhere for their dad to teach them to fish, where they could breathe fresh air outside the city.

In other words, an ideal location for him and Claire to spend a few days. She needed the rest, needed to feel secure for a little while. They could come up with a plan for moving forward once they had the time to reset.

He was still thinking along those lines as he turned off the main road onto the rocky trail leading up to the cabin. The change in terrain left the car swaying a little, which stirred Claire into wakefulness. “Is this Lake Conroe?” she mumbled, still sleepy.

Even now, she struck him as hopelessly adorable, rubbing sleep from her eyes before immediately looking to check on Khan. “Almost. Just a few minutes more.”

“I can’t wait to stretch my legs.”

“I’ll bet. Cramped up in a car for hours.” But she’d held on, going with the flow. She might’ve been the strongest woman he knew, except for maybe his mom.

That thought lingered in his mind as he pulled closer to the cabin.

And found the lights on inside.

“Oh,” Claire breathed. “For some reason, I thought the cabin would be empty.”

“It should be...” He brought them to a stop, staring at the familiar structure with his mouth open.

She went stiff. “Are we in trouble?”

It was almost laughable. And he would’ve laughed if this latest twist didn’t complicate things even further. “No, we’re not in trouble. It’s just that this is happening earlier than I thought it would.” He got out of the car, shaking his head.

“What’s that mean?” Claire followed him, a note of fear in her voice even after he’d told her it was okay. She’d pulled Khan out of the car with her and held him to her chest, protective and a little scared.

“It means you’re about to meet my parents.” He put an arm around her waist and pulled her toward the house before she could ask any more questions or, even more likely, plant her feet and refuse to take another step.

Timing had never been his parents’ strong suit, but how were they supposed to know?

“Well, what’s this?” Clinton bolted up from his chair at the opening of the door, and a huge smile threatened to crack his face wide open. “What a great surprise!”

Sheila came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. “Luke! How terrific! I was just thinking about you!”

He’d only just been thinking about her, but there wasn’t time to explain that without explaining a great deal more about Claire than he was comfortable with just then. Besides, there were more important things to talk about.

Such as, who Claire was, for starters.

“Claire, these are my parents, Clinton and Sheila Patterson.” Not the way he’d hoped to introduce her one day, but these were strange times. “Mom and Dad, this is Claire.”

He didn’t know what else to say. Certainly, he couldn’t go into detail. He didn’t even want to use her last name since they might’ve heard it on the news.

The two of them jumped into action, with Clinton directing Claire to the chair he’d just vacated. “You two look half-starved,” Sheila decided. “I was just putting supper on. And look at that gorgeous cat! I’m sure I can dig up a little something for you, too.”

Either Khan understood English or his instincts were sharp enough to know who he needed to become best friends with. He took his leave from Claire and trotted into the kitchen on Sheila’s heels. Clinton added wood to the fire. “The cabin’s been closed up for a while now, and you’ll find the nights get fairly cool this time of year.”

Neither of them asked questions, either because they knew better than to delve into their sons’ lives—no telling where their work led them or how much they could share—or because they had enough tact not to make things awkward.

That was one thing the two of them had to spare, tact. It was what had made them ideal foster parents to four wounded, scared boys. They knew when to ask questions and when to leave well enough alone.

Before he knew it, the four of them were seated around the kitchen table, and Sheila was piling pasta on Claire’s plate. “One thing you learn as a mother to four boys is how to quickly double a meal. I swear, I don’t know how I managed to keep the kitchen stocked in those days.” She added vegetables to the plate before handing it over. Ever a parent.

“It must’ve been...interesting.” Claire’s gaze darted over to Luke, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart, it was a real challenge sometimes. Well, it was!” Sheila laughed when Luke rolled his eyes. “The four of you were so spirited and stubborn. Remember the one trip we took up here, where you almost drowned yourself in the lake? Convinced you’d caught a big one.”

“It was a tire.” Clinton laughed. “And I warned him, I did, but he insisted he’d caught something legendary. Lost his balance and ended up in water over his head.”

“This was before he learned to swim, mind you.” Sheila shook her head, laughing. “Life wasn’t boring, I’ll tell you that much.”

Luke couldn’t help but marvel at his mother’s ability to draw Claire out of her shell. They weren’t more than a few minutes into the meal before she was laughing, not to mention the way she tore into her supper like she hadn’t eaten in ages. It did him good to see her with an appetite.

It was just like being a kid again, when he’d first arrived at the Patterson home. How scared and wounded and untrusting he’d been. How Sheila had worked her way into his trust, how she hadn’t pushed but instead pulled him into the warmth of her love with food and laughter, letting him come around in his own good time.

He could almost forget what was happening around them, the cloud hanging over their heads. It all felt so right, being there with her, sitting down with his parents...like Claire was already part of the family.

There was no more awkwardness until it came time to turn in. Naturally, his parents expected to take the master bedroom with its king-size bed.

Leaving the second bedroom to Luke and Claire.

“Bunk beds.” Claire’s amusement was evident, no matter how she tried to hide it.

“Two sets.” He leaned against one set with a sigh as memories bumped against each other, almost too many for him to handle.

“This is where you boys slept?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Which bed was yours?”

He jerked a thumb toward the top bunk just behind him and Claire nodded. “I want that one.”

“You’re serious?”

“I am. What?” she asked when he chuckled. “I want to sleep in the bed you slept in. Is that funny?”

Funny? No. In fact, it was sort of sexy in a weird way. He kept that thought to himself in favor of sliding his arms around her waist. “Not much room for more than one person in these beds.”

“Good thing I’m too wiped out to think about anything but sleep right now.” But she was smiling, and for a moment, it was almost possible to forget there was anything more important happening in their lives than an unforeseen meeting with his parents.

“I’m glad you got to meet them, even if this wasn’t what I had planned.” He pressed a kiss against her forehead while her arms linked around his neck.

“They’re wonderful people.”

“They are. I had no doubt you’d get along with them.”

“And they love you. That much is obvious.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, almost playfully. “I mean, not that I blame them or anything. You’re pretty wonderful, too.”

“Mom’s superpower is loving,” he murmured, careful to keep his voice low, the way they used to when they were kids pretending to be asleep. “They’re perfect for each other, those two. They are both very special people.”

Claire changed into pajamas and climbed into her bunk while Khan took the bottom bunk across from her. Watchful, but comfortable in his own right. “Keep an eye on her,” Luke whispered to the cat once Claire was sound asleep.

T HE CABIN WAS DARK , quiet, though Luke knew better than to accept things at face value. His father would want to talk. They’d only exchanged a single long look before retiring to their respective bedrooms, but that look had carried a lot of weight.

He was waiting on the small porch overlooking the lake. The water was still and smooth under a cloudless sky, giving the illusion of there being two moons thanks to a motionless reflection. “Beautiful,” Luke whispered. There was nothing like being out here, away from the rest of the world.

Clinton nodded, staring off in the same direction. “I recognize your friend from TV.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“I figured as much.”

“We only need to lie low for a few days. It’ll give us time to regroup and come up with a plan. The people after her are dangerous and connected enough to use law enforcement as a personal tool to catch her.”

“Your brothers are helping?”

“As much as they can.”

“Who is this girl that she’s important enough for you to go to all this trouble?”

“I knew her back at Skyline Park. She was important to me then. She still is.”

Clinton sighed, finally turning his face toward his son. “You know your mom won’t want to leave now, not with another baby bird to take care of. But I can’t put her in a situation where she might be in danger, either. Not with her blood pressure.”

“I wouldn’t want to put her in danger, believe me.”

“That being said, if you think it’s okay, we’ll stay tomorrow. Give her a chance to mother you both for a while. It’ll do her good.”

“I think it’ll do Claire good, too.” He didn’t bother mentioning himself, as his needs were fairly far down on the priority list. But he suspected it would do him good, just the same.

They fell into an easy silence while nature’s sounds filled the air. Even at night, there was never real, true quiet. An owl’s cry pierced the air. Leaves rustled. There were sounds of scurrying as some small animal foraged for its supper.

At least they had a natural alarm system all around them. If intruders decided to approach, the animals would sound an alert.

Luke’s heart swelled when he looked over at his dad, whose profile stood out against the moonlit sky. They didn’t share blood, but Clinton had taught him everything he knew about being a man and about what mattered in life. He’d set Luke’s feet on the path they currently trod.

“I know that whatever you do, it’ll be the right thing,” Clinton decided. “I don’t know a lot of things, but that much I know for sure.”

Luke hoped his father was right.