Chapter 9 Wedding Blues

CHAPTER 9: WEDDING BLUES

September

"Ugh! My brain hurts." Bonnie closed her eyes and dropped her head between her hands. She'd been studying hard for her real estate broker's license, as in every spare minute. After two weeks straight of taking online classes, however, she was still a long way from completing the required 180 hours of coursework. She had to take six thirty-hour classes in all, and she'd only just now completed the third one.

I'm halfway to forever!

"It's supposed to hurt," Alice called cheerfully from her office around the corner. "The state of Texas has some of the most rigorous requirements in the nation for their brokers."

"Now you tell me," Bonnie groaned.

"If I'd told you sooner, you might've taken off running." Her future business partner breezed into the main area of the realty office. "Now you're too invested."

It was true. Bonnie groaned again as she raised her head. "I thought you liked me."

"I love you like the sister I never had. That's why I'm working so hard to bring you on board." Alice reached her desk and hiked a hip on the edge of it. She was wearing a rosy pink pantsuit today with autumn gold high-heeled sandals. As usual, she looked stunning.

"I'm already on board," Bonnie grumbled, feeling frazzled to the bone in her blue and white striped maxi dress and cowgirl boots. Her hair was in simple braids, and she'd pulled on a Stetson to avoid having to style her bangs. Unlike Alice, she didn't roll out of bed each morning looking like she'd just stepped off a super model runway.

"Well, this will bring you the rest of the way on board," Alice returned smoothly. "And it'll come with bigger responsibilities and bigger pay. You're going to thank me once you get on the other side of…how many hours of coursework do you have left?"

"Ninety hours," Bonnie squeaked. Though she'd reached the halfway point, the finish line still felt like a bazillion miles away.

"Wow!" Alice looked impressed. "Already halfway there. What a rockstar!"

Bonnie pretended to sing into a microphone, pulling a chuckle out of her friend. "Thanks for letting me plow through some of my coursework during our down time at the office." It would've otherwise taken her a lot longer to get this far.

"Hey!" Alice spread her hands. "It's work related."

"With a side of torture." Bonnie's brain was swimming with mortgage interest rates, credit scores, and debt-to-income ratios. Her only saving grace was that it was straightforward business math, not calculus.

"I might've had an ulterior motive for letting you study at work." Alice leaned closer to announce in a stage whisper. "I need you to get as many of your classes out of the way as possible before my wedding."

She was referring to the fact that Bonnie would be covering the office alone a few days before the wedding and the entire week afterward.

Before Bonnie could respond, her phone rang.

Holding up a finger, she answered it. "Underwood Realty. This is Bonnie. How may I help you?" For a moment, all she could hear was elevator music. Had the person who'd called her accidentally put her on hold?

A male voice emerged from the music. "This is Mr. Blackstone. I was hoping you'd meet me at Lane's diner in about ten minutes, so I can put in my offer on that fixer-upper warehouse."

"Absolutely. I'll be right over." Bonnie gripped the phone tighter, feeling suddenly woozy. She was probably dehydrated since she hadn't had much to drink this morning.

She disconnected the line, rolling her shoulders as she struggled to shake off the cobwebs.

"Everything alright?" Alice stood as Bonnie started gathering folders into her briefcase. "You look sleepy."

"You know why I'm sleepy." Bonnie rolled her eyes. The snoozy music on the phone hadn't helped. A few more minutes of it, and she'd have probably zonked out face first on her keyboard. "I'm meeting Mr. Blackstone at the diner, so he can put in his offer on that warehouse." She grabbed her favorite pen.

"Why isn't he meeting you here?" With a huff of irritation, Alice headed back to her office. "We're only a few doors down from the diner."

"Maybe he's hungry." Bonnie glanced at the clock on the wall. It was between mealtimes, so it was anyone's guess as to why their client wanted to meet at the diner instead of their office. It was a small sacrifice to make, though, for a hefty commission. Though the warehouse needed some work, it was sitting on more than an acre of prime commercial real estate. Great access to the interstate. Plenty of road frontage. It was going to be the perfect new location for Blackstone Solar Shade. They planned to convert the front of the warehouse into a showroom and use the back of it for storing supplies and equipment.

Instead of heading to the employee parking lot behind the building, Bonnie exited through the front door and walked the short distance to the diner.

Though the sign on the silver building read Roper's, all the locals referred to it as Lane's diner since Lane Coben owned and operated it. She was a beloved icon of hospitality and generosity in town, known for feeding the homeless and donating food to various shelters and charities. She also happened to be the only sibling of Jude Westfield, a genius-level convicted felon who was currently serving his sentence in conjunction with serving as a consultant to the Hereford Police Department. It was a weird situation, but Sheriff Cade Malone kept the guy on a tight leash, so nobody complained about it.

Just as Bonnie reached the diner, her phone rang.

It was Mr. Blackstone again. He sounded harried, not at all like his usual calm self. "Sorry, but I'm running a few minutes late. If you'll just…can you hold on a sec?" The phone switched over to the same elevator music from earlier.

Bonnie yawned as she entered the diner, wishing the music playing in her ear wasn't so soft and soothing.

"Hey, honey!" Lane called from the counter. "Grab any booth you want. I'll be right there with a fresh pot of coffee." A cowgirl from her cut-off jean shorts to her well broken in boots, she was busy rinsing out cups and plates.

Bonnie smiled and nodded at her, pointing at the phone as she made her way to one of the booths against the wall. Mr. Blackstone was taking forever to get back to her. She was still waiting and listening to music when Lane sailed over with her pot of coffee.

Thank you, Bonnie mouthed gratefully. Water would've been better for hydration purposes, but coffee would keep her awake. She yawned again as Lane moved away to refill someone's coffee at another table.

The music on the phone was seriously putting her to sleep. She reached for the handle of her mug, but it suddenly felt like too much work to lift it.

I'm just going to sit here and rest my eyelids for a sec. She leaned her head back against the vinyl cushion and closed her eyes.

The next thing she knew, Lane was patting her shoulder and jostling her awake.

"Sorry to disturb you, sweetie, but you've been here for nearly an hour." The edges of Lane's eyes were wrinkled with concern. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"An hour?" Bonnie blinked at her. How was that possible? She'd just finished walking through the door. Glancing around for her cell phone, she was astonished to discover it was resting in her lap. It must have fallen off her shoulder when she'd dozed off. Her call to Mr. Blackstone was still connected, and the elevator music was still playing in the background. The timer on the call was ticking past, second by second.

Bonnie gaped at the number on the screen. Lane was correct. An entire hour had slipped past while she was resting her eyelids.

"I, um…I'm so sorry." She reached for her briefcase, feeling inordinately sluggish. "You didn't happen to see Mr. Blackstone come through the diner, did you? He was supposed to join me here."

Please, please, please don't tell me he came and went while I was asleep. She'd never live it down if Alice got wind of it.

"I haven't seen him." Lane shook her head, looking bemused. "It's been just you over here. Sawing logs," she added with a chuckle.

"I'm really sorry about that." Bonnie's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she disconnected her call to Mr. Blackstone. She shoved the phone in one of the outside pockets of her briefcase. "I must be more tired than I realized. I've been studying my brains out for my real estate broker's license."

"So I heard." Lane's expression lit. "Congratulations!"

"Don't congratulate me yet. I still have to pass the exam." Bonnie glanced guiltily at the mug of coffee in front of her that had long since grown cold. She hadn't taken a single sip out of it. "Here." She reached for her debit card and held it out. "For the coffee." She had no idea what had become of Mr. Blackstone, but she'd waited long enough. She'd call him when she got back to the office.

Lane waved away the payment. "It's on the house."

"Lane!" Bonnie protested, feeling more guilty than ever about hogging a booth for an entire hour without paying a penny.

"I insist," Lane said firmly. "You and Alice are two of my best customers."

"You're so sweet. I, um…thank you." Bonnie would never get tired of the small-town hospitality that flavored so many of the local businesses.

"No. Thank you !" Lane gave her a quick hug before she dashed across the room to wait on someone else, hopefully a paying customer.

Unlike me.

Bonnie left a five-dollar tip on the table, knowing Lane would fuss about it the next time she saw her. Then she dragged her feet tiredly back to the realty office.

Alice was waiting for her with a stormy expression riding her normally smiling features. "Where have you been?"

"At the diner." Bonnie couldn't believe Alice had forgotten.

"I tried calling you." Alice sounded frustrated. "When you didn't answer, I almost jogged down there in person to see if you were still there."

"What's wrong?" You first. I'll lay my bad news on you next .

"Everything!" Alice threw her hands into the air. "While you were gone, we had an out-of-towner march in here and put in an offer on the warehouse. A higher offer than what Mr. Blackstone was planning on making." Her distress was palpable. "I told the man that someone else had gotten an offer in ahead of his, but he didn't seem to mind. He said to just get in touch with him if the other contract fell through." She glanced pointedly at Bonnie's briefcase. "Please assure me you're in possession of a signed offer from Mr. Blackstone."

"Unfortunately not." Bonnie shook her head ruefully. "He never showed up." Bless his heart! After his many visits to the warehouse and his endless dickering over his intended offer, he'd just lost the property to another customer. To an out-of-towner, no less. It was going to look really bad for their realty company when they told him the news.

She and Alice stared bleakly at each other.

"What are we going to do?" Bonnie was trying to decide if she should admit she'd fallen asleep on the job. "I was about to get back on the phone with Mr. Blackstone to see what the holdup was."

"No." Alice shook her head. "I'll call him. He's going to demand to talk to me, anyway, after he hears about this." She held the back of her hand to her forehead, looking feverish.

"This is my fault," Bonnie blurted in a rush. As much as she hated to admit what had truly happened, Alice deserved no less than the truth. "Mr. Blackstone called me while I was walking into the diner. Said he was running late. Then he asked me to hold. I grabbed a booth and a cup of coffee, while keeping my phone balanced against my ear."

Listening to that blasted elevator music. Just thinking about it brought on another wave of sleepiness. She stifled a yawn. "While I waited, I fell asleep."

"You fell asleep," Alice repeated slowly.

"For an entire hour, according to Lane." Bonnie added miserably. Who does that? "She's the one who woke me up."

Alice frowned. "What about Mr. Blackstone's phone call?"

Bonnie shook her head in confusion. "It was still connected, and the elevator music was still playing." She had no idea if he'd tried to get back on the line. She was betting he hadn't. Otherwise, he'd have hung up when she hadn't answered.

Alice's frown deepened. "He must have forgotten you were on hold."

"No matter how you slice it, it's my fault," Bonnie said miserably. "If I hadn't fallen asleep, I would've disconnected the line and called him back." Eventually. She probably would've waited a while first. At least five or ten minutes. "I'll totally understand if you fire me on the spot."

"I'm not firing you." Alice spun around and returned to her office without another word.

Bonnie stood there feeling awful, while she listened to Alice dial Mr. Blackstone.

What she overheard didn't make her feel any better. "I'm so sorry to hear you were involved in a car accident, sir." Alice went on to ask how bad his injuries were and if there was anything he needed.

Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse!

Bonnie moved behind her desk and slowly took a seat. She propped her elbows on her desk and leaned forward to massage her temples.

Several minutes passed before Alice returned to the room as silently as she'd left it. "Mr. Blackstone's failure to get his offer in wasn't your fault. He was involved in a car accident. So, even if you were still asleep at the diner right this second…"

Bonnie winced. "Not funny."

Alice snorted. "It kind of was."

"Is there anything we can do for Mr. Blackstone?" Losing the warehouse bid had to feel like a double whammy on top of his car accident.

Alice shrugged. "Other than taking him a meal or sending him a get-well card? No. Unless the other guy withdraws his offer, the warehouse is sold."

Bonnie wasn't ready to forgive herself. "I still can't believe I fell asleep in the middle of the diner. That's never happened to me before."

"I'm more concerned about the second phone call you said you received from Mr. Blackstone." Alice studied her shrewdly. "He said he got in his car right after you called him, asking him to meet you at the diner, and he was t-boned on his way out of the parking lot. There was no opportunity for him to make a second phone call."

"But I didn't call him. It was the other way around." Bonnie shook her head. "You were right here when it happened."

"Yeah, I'm not sure why he said that." Alice pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"And he most definitely called me a second time." Bonnie tapped her cell phone screen to turn it on. "There's the phone call I missed from you." So, so, so sorry! "And here's the second call I received from him." She held out her phone so Alice could see what was on her screen.

Alice looked troubled. "I can't explain that."

Bonnie stared at her. "If it wasn't him, then who was I speaking to?"

"I don't know. May I?" Alice reached for Bonnie's cell phone, presumably to take another look at her call history with Mr. Blackstone. "I'm thinking this might be something we should mention to Holt. He'll run it past K&G Security, and maybe they can trace the calls or something."

"Maybe." Bonnie nodded dismally. "Whoever it was, their stinking elevator music was worse than Mr. Blackstone's. It knocked me out." In light of everything else that had happened, it felt ominous. Like whoever had called her had deliberately gotten her out of the office for the sole purpose of beating poor Mr. Blackstone on the warehouse bid. Since she was supposedly meeting with Mr. Blackstone, Alice had safely assumed that he'd still be getting his bid in ahead of the out-of-town competitor. She'd had no reason to stall the paperwork.

Bonnie's heart ached for Mr. Blackstone. He was such a nice guy. He deserved better than this.

She and Alice dialed Holt together and put him on speakerphone to describe what had happened. He looked into it and called them back.

"The phone number the imposter used is a dead end," he reported grimly. "It's no longer in service."

"You're kidding," Bonnie gasped. Please tell me you're kidding! She was starting to feel like she was losing her mind.

"I wish I was." He was silent for a moment. "It looks like some sort of prank call, Bonnie. I'm sorry. K&G Security is looking into the warehouse deal to see if there's any connection between the two incidents. Alice, if you'll send us everything you've got on that out-of-town customer…"

"I'm on it," she promised in a brisk voice.

Bonnie's gut told her there was a connection. Whether she or anyone else could prove it remained to be seen.

Three weeks later

It wasn't easy, but Jackson managed to negotiate a seat across from his sister on their way to Alice and Zayden's wedding. They were in the back of the tall, black armored vehicle that the K&G Security crew fondly referred to as The Tank. One of the co-owners, Lyon Garret, was driving it.

Bonnie shivered as she caught Jackson's eye. "Are you having fun yet?"

Instead of answering, he raised his eyebrows at her. He was in no mood to joke about what was at stake today. Beneath his gray pinstripe suit, he had no less than two handguns, a hunting knife, and four solar flares strapped to his person. Thanks to a loan, he was also carrying ten thousand dollars in cash. If things went south today, there was no telling how long he might be on the run.

Or who I'll have with me.

Whatever Bonnie read in his expression made her shiver again and drop her gaze.

"Cold?" Looking concerned, Holt shrugged out of his beige suit jacket and draped it around the bare shoulders of her berry-colored halter dress.

Normally, Jackson saw ten shades of red anytime a guy looked twice at his sister. That hadn't been the case with Holt Winchester. The guy was so smitten with her that it was laughable. He was also clever, resourceful, and wildly protective of Bonnie. She was in good hands with him.

Or would've been if the two of them weren't still living beneath the long, dark shadows of their captors. It blew Jackson's mind that a group of criminals existed out there somewhere for the sole purpose of preying on good people like Bonnie and Holt.

Was there something about their intrinsic goodness that made them more susceptible to mind control? Or had they simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Two random victims caught up in a scheme that was so much bigger than themselves?

Bonnie pulled the lapels of Holt's suit jacket more tightly around her. "Not cold, per se. I just wish we could've ridden in the back of one of the limousines like we were supposed to."

Her haunted expression made Jackson wonder if the dimly lit, closed-in feel of The Tank was tickling the darkest edges of her memories again.

Holt slid an arm around her shoulders and cuddled her against his side. "I hear you, babe." He caught Jackson's gaze, as if knowing he would agree. "But with everything going on today, I'm glad to have you behind bullet-proof steel, if only for a few minutes."

"Hear. Hear." Jackson gave him a two-fingered salute.

His words dragged a long-suffering sigh out of Bonnie. "I would much rather have had the sun pouring through the windows on the drive to Town Square." She wrinkled her nose. "I can't believe Alice ever agreed to have her wedding included in a sting operation."

Jackson had been equally surprised. Weddings were supposed to be full of light, joy, and laughter. He probably wouldn't have been so accommodating if it was his wedding. Not that he had any prospects in sight. He didn't even have a serious girlfriend.

"I can give you two good reasons." Holt gave Bonnie a squeeze hug. "For one thing, she's marrying a police officer. For another thing, she's anxious to see you and your family get the justice you deserve."

"You and your family deserve justice, too." She snuggled closer to him, making his expression soften.

Jackson agreed with his sister's statement. Holt's abduction, and the after effects of it, had been every bit as harrowing as what his sister had endured.

"And if the police succeed in drawing our captors and their associates out of the woodwork today, we'll get that justice." Holt's expression, however, told a different story. Like Jackson, he was bracing himself for the worst.

They reached Town Square and were escorted by yet more K&G Security guards to an enormous white canopy. All four of their guards were dressed like ordinary wedding guests in suits and dresses.

The sun that Bonnie had been missing inside The Tank beat down on the park-like setting, making Jackson shoot a speculative look up at the sky.

One of the guards caught Jackson's eye as she fluttered a hand at her face. "According to the forecast, it's gonna be the hottest day on record in September."

"Nice." Though his primary mission was to ensure his sister's safety today, he couldn't resist giving the guard a sideways glance when she wasn't looking.

He decided on the spot that she was way too cute to be a security guard. She was a petite redhead in a black cocktail dress and simple pumps. He had no doubt that the silver sequined shrug she wore over it was hiding a weapon. It was impossible to pinpoint her age beneath her heavy eye makeup, though. She could've been anywhere from twenty-five to thirty-five.

She abruptly stepped closer to him. "Are you checking me out, Jackson Yates?" she asked softly.

"What if I am, Miss, ah…?" He boldly met her startlingly green eyes that were searching his. "I don't believe we've met before." Her classical features were dotted with faint freckles, an unforgettable combination.

"Summer Rose." She glanced away from him, scanning the grassy area beyond the tent.

He did the same. "Is Rose your last name?" He figured he deserved to know at least as much about her as she knew about him.

"No. It's Gardener."

He liked her name. He liked the woman beneath the name even more. "Any interest in catching dinner with me sometime, Miss Gardener?" He'd never asked a woman out the first time he'd met her, but the tension crackling between them emboldened him.

"I've brought bigger men than you to their knees for asking that same question," she retorted.

"Yet I'm still standing." He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her from beneath his Stetson. He was neither short nor scrawny. She was probably half his body weight.

"I was told you're off limits today." She tossed her head, making the red ringlets around her temples and cheeks dance. "Can't so much as bust your kneecaps since you're helping us monitor our targets."

"My kneecaps are grateful." He dipped his head over hers. "Lemme know if you change your mind about dinner. Something tells me you already have my number. And the make and model of my truck. And my address." He was enjoying teasing her. "Probably even the color of my favorite socks."

"Is it just me?" She tipped her face up to his again. "Because you strike me as sorely out of practice on your pickup lines."

Instead of being offended, he winked at her. "If I were you, I'd take it as a compliment." He felt no urge to apologize for failing to be some smooth-talking, dime-a-dozen playboy. If that's what she was looking for, he'd pegged her wrong.

Sirens sounded in the distance, delaying her response. Seconds later, a firetruck whizzed past Town Square.

Jackson's gaze narrowed on the long red truck and the patrol car following closely behind it. An ambulance blew by next.

Summer Rose tapped her earpiece and started speaking in a low voice. "Status on the emergency vehicles?" Whatever she heard made her lips tighten.

"What's going on?" Jackson demanded tersely.

"There's a fire in an old, rundown warehouse a few streets over." She spoke in a clipped tone.

Jackson shared her concern. He could think of only one old, rundown warehouse this close to Town Square. It had to be the one that the out-of-town investor had maneuvered Mr. Blackstone out of. It didn't feel like a coincidence that it was now going up in flames.

He lost track of Summer Rose as the wedding party assembled. The hired string quartet played the opening notes of the Wedding March.

Holt escorted Bonnie down the aisle, gazing down at her with his heart in his eyes. It was clear to anyone who was watching them that he was madly in love with her.

Alice walked down the aisle next, clinging to her father's arm. Though she and Zayden had tried their hardest to keep the event small and cozy, so many guests were packed beneath the canopy that several were forced to remain standing behind the wooden folding chairs in the back.

Unfortunately, the standing guests hampered Jackson's view of what was happening beneath the white rose trellis at the front of the tent. He had to elbow his way past a few of the guests to get his eyeballs back on Bonnie.

Reverend Jeremy Morgan opened the ceremony with prayer, making it easier to tell which of the guests were security guards working undercover. None of them closed their eyes, and none of them ceased their watchful scan of the room at large.

Jeremy then launched into a short message about love, loyalty, and lifelong commitments. His conclusion was that those were the same things the Lord desired in a relationship with His followers.

Then came the exchange of vows and rings.

A feeling of anticipation swept through Jackson. Not the good kind of anticipation, either. It felt like the calm before a storm.

Another set of emergency vehicles drove past, screaming their sirens during Jeremy's closing remarks.

Jackson watched several of the guests standing on the perimeter reach up to touch their earpieces, lips moving.

Only one of them didn't have their lips moving. He was wearing a Stetson and a dark navy suit, which faded nicely into the background of those gathered around him. Unlike the other men, however, his boots weren't cowboy boots. They were combat boots.

Jackson was standing at just the right angle to follow the man's line of vision. His gaze was trained right smack on Bonnie!

Jeremy invited the guests to bow their heads in a closing prayer.

A voice sounded in Jackson's ear. "You see him, too?" It was the voice of Jude Westfield.

"Yep." From his peripheral vision, Jackson watched the convicted felon edge forward on his right — tall, slender, and eerily pale. What in the world was he doing at the wedding? He highly doubted the man had made the official invitation list.

Jude stepped closer to rasp, "The police are divided between two emergencies on opposite sides of town. An accident? I think not."

Someone nearby shushed them.

Though Jackson agreed, he wasn't sure what to do. The rogue group of criminals hadn't revealed their ultimate move yet. If he made his move ahead of their move, he'd be guilty of interfering in an official police investigation, which could land him in the clinker. He was already on shaky moral ground for consulting the advice of a jailbird during the days and weeks leading up to today.

The prayer ended, and the adoring groom led his blushing bride up the aisle amidst a flurry of clapping and cheering.

A kitten shot into the aisle in front of them, pausing in their path to frenziedly chase his tail. Something was tied to it. Jackson couldn't see what it was.

A cameraman leaped in front of them and took a knee, flashing his camera bulb.

All eyes were on the bride and groom and the happenstance kitten who was quickly stealing the show.

"It's a diversion. You need to get to your sister before they do." Jude's voice grated harshly in his ear.

Jackson hesitated. Had it really come to this? He had two choices — continue waiting for the criminals to show their hand, in which case it might be too late for him to make his move, or make his move now and incur the consequences if he was wrong.

Here goes nothing. Clenching his jaw, Jackson jogged around the side of the tent, away from the melee unfolding in the center aisle. Though it was the long way around, it was the quickest way to get Bonnie back in sight.

The man in a navy suit and combat boots started moving at the same time. Jackson found himself elbow to elbow with him as they hurried in unison toward Bonnie.

The man's fist shot out as fast as lightning, but Jackson was ready. He ducked and parried with a kick to the man's knees, sending him sprawling and yelping in pain. He didn't immediately curl back to his feet, probably because he'd been temporarily immobilized. He did, however, reach inside his blazer.

Jackson spun back in his direction, kicking again as he spied a flash of silver. A handgun went flying through the air, skidding to a halt a few feet away. By some miracle, it didn't go off. Jackson leaped toward it, kicking it out of reach.

Holt sprinted his way, whipping out a gun and training it on the man on the ground. "Don't move," he warned the man icily.

Jackson reached Bonnie's side. "Let's go!" He tugged on her arm to get her moving.

"What about Holt?" She twisted her head around, clearly reluctant to leave her boyfriend behind.

"He's safe," Jackson growled. You're not. He highly doubted that the folks after her had sent only one would-be assailant her way. Not with how much trouble they were in the middle of stirring across town. Something bigger was going down. Something he had every intention of making sure his sister didn't get caught up in. She'd suffered enough already at the hands of these goons.

Curling an arm around her shoulders, he ran with her out of the tent.

"Where are you taking me?" She tried to wiggle out from beneath his grasp.

"So help me, Bonnie," he gritted between his teeth. "Let me get you some place safe, for crying out loud! Then we'll talk." He steered her in the direction of his truck that he'd parked about a block down the road.

Before they'd made it even half the distance, a black Land Rover skidded to a halt on the road beside them. The window rolled down.

"Get in," a woman shouted.

Her words were followed by a volley of gunshots behind them.

Jackson was surprised to see Summer Rose behind the wheel, but there was no time for questions.

Fortunately, Bonnie offered no resistance when he yanked open the back passenger door and lifted her inside. The sound of gunfire had probably underscored to her just how much danger they were in.

"Get down," he ordered, slamming the door shut.

More shots were fired. One of them pinged into the side of the vehicle.

Bonnie hit the floorboard, and Jackson followed, shielding her with his body.

Summer Rose gunned the motor and took off.

Jackson waited until her speed slowed before addressing her. "The next time a guy asks you out to dinner, you could just say yes." His voice came out rough and gravelly.

"Aw, honey! You think this is about you?" she crooned, meeting his gaze in the rear-view mirror as he sat up.

"Partly," he countered, winking at her. "My gut says you're more than capable of multitasking."

Bonnie scrambled out of the floorboard to take a seat next to him. "You two know each other?"

"Yep," Jackson drawled.

"No," Summer Rose intoned at the same time.

"Well, which is it?" Bonnie's gaze swung dazedly between them.

He started laughing. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind for a dinner date. Like Summer Rose pointed out earlier, though, I'm a little out of practice."

"Feel free to drop me off on the side of the road," Bonnie groaned. "I have no interest in third-wheeling it with my oldest of five annoying brothers."

Tough! There was no way he was letting her out of his sight until he was sure she was safe.

"Smooth." Summer Rose admonished in a mocking voice as she met his gaze again in the rear-view mirror. "You have a real way with the ladies."

He leaned his head across the seat as he answered. "I know." Because of his position, he was the first person in the vehicle to catch sight of the dark, windowless van hurtling their way from the right.

"Look out!" He reached for the wheel, pulling hard to the left.

Because of his quick thinking, the van crashed into the side of them, grazing them hard instead of fully t-boning them.

The SUV skidded off the road, hit a curb, and bumped through a shoulder.

More shots were fired.

"Get down," Jackson shouted again to his sister.

A window shattered, and shards of glass went flying as they dove for the floorboard a second time.

Summer Rose revved the motor and drove up the side of the ditch. Soon, Jackson could see buildings flashing past the windows on both sides. Tall buildings. Close buildings, telling him they were zipping through a back alley.

He held on to Bonnie, protecting her head as best he could. The buildings flashing past their windows disappeared as Summer Rose reached another road. She increased her speed, and the sound of gunfire faded.