Chapter 2

2

Grace Bailey wanted to stop running.

Exhaustion threaded through every fiber of her being. There was nothing more she wanted than to book into a motel, slide between laundered cotton sheets, close her eyes and fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

But right now, her priority was staying alive so she could testify in court in a month's time. Catching sight of her bruised cheek in the glass of the cooler cabinet, she tugged her baseball hat lower and pulled the sleeves of her winter jacket to cover the still fresh nicks on the back of her hands.

Her stomach rumbled. Gotta eat.

She tossed instant noodles in her basket and headed to the next aisle, where the faint aroma of coffee beans lingered in the air, mixed with the earthy scent of loose tea leaves. Her hands tightened on the wire handle of her basket, the cool metal contrasting with the warmth building within her chest. The packets of Earl Gray, her small comfort, were visible at the end of the aisle.

A young couple, their heads dipped in conversation, stood as an obstacle between her and the teas. Grace's heart raced; she could just leave, protect others by keeping her distance. Yet, the desire for something familiar and comforting gripped her.

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes, but she squeezed them shut. Self pity served no purpose. She needed to accept her situation and just enjoy the small fragments of normalcy that remained.

Damn it. Richard's taken everything from me. Tea isn't too much to ask.

She should go now, but she couldn't help herself. She hovered, soaking up the ordinariness of the couple choosing treats for a cozy night in, their lives still intact.

"Let's get this one." The man lifted a jar of drinking chocolate from the shelf.

"It's twice the price." The woman wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, that's because it is the most delicious." He kissed her on the nose and her frown softened. "You won't regret it." He lifted a bag of pink and white mini marshmallows and winked. "Essential."

Grace exhaled as they linked hands and moved away, their basket laden with edible comfort for a perfect night in. The woman bopped her head against the man's shoulder as they turned toward the end of the aisle. Grace hoped the woman had chosen well, that her love story didn't have a dark ending.

She surveyed her packs of dried noodles, her teeth pressed achingly together. She would never be like this young couple. Her heart was locked down, frozen, like the Alaskan permafrost, where it could never be disturbed. Surely a small price to pay for living her life on her own terms. She added Earl Gray to her basket and made her way to the checkout, where she mechanically placed her groceries on the conveyor belt.

As she waited for the customer ahead of her to finish paying, her gaze drifted over the shoulder of the scrawny cashier toward the entrance. The doors swooshed open and two men entered, heavy winter coats swinging. The beep of the checkout, the rumble of the store's ancient heating, all of it faded till there was only the thunder of her own heart in her head.

How had they found her? Panic constricted her throat, the meticulous care she'd taken unraveling before her eyes. She had been so careful.

"Ma'am? Excuse me, ma'am?"

Grace blinked and swallowed salt, focussed on the checkout assistant. He was barely a man. Soft down on his upper lip, a smatter of acne across his cheeks.

"Sorry? What did you say?"

"That will be twenty-five sixty."

"Of course." Grace fumbled in her purse and handed the cashier thirty dollars. The men had disappeared from sight, up one aisle. Maybe they hadn't seen her. Maybe it was a terrible coincidence? Too many maybes. Doubt gnawed at her as the hairs on her neck lifted.

She resisted the urge to look.

"Are you okay?" The checkout cashier studied her with worried eyes, concern in his voice. Probably thought she was going to have a heart attack on his shift.

Tingles raced across her skin, but she shook them off. "I'm fine," she replied, her tone harsh even to her ears.

He handed her the change, then offered her a brown paper bag from the pile behind him. "You want a bag?"

"No." Grace scooped her purchases off the counter, dumping them in her backpack. She tightened the drawstring, not caring that she crushed the elaborate packaging of the tea she'd been so intent on purchasing.

She ignored the cashier's raised eyebrows and hurried toward the exit. She was through the glass doors and across the lot before they had even fully retracted. The outside air, cool and biting, was a welcome relief after the stuffiness of the store.

She kept her gaze locked on her red Ford, parked at the far end under a bedraggled conifer. If she looked back, she'd panic, and then it would be all over and she would not give Richard the satisfaction. She would testify at trial, if it was the last thing she ever did.

She retrieved her car key from inside her jeans pocket and wedged it between her fingers. Not much, but better than nothing.

She passed a man loading his trunk, and for an instant her pace faltered. He was over six feet tall, his arms bare with sculpted muscle. He closed the trunk and for a beat his gaze, blue and intense, met hers. Despite the cold, he wasn't wearing a jacket, only a close fitting T-shirt bearing the Alaskan Coast Guard shield. A guardian. A man who could handle himself, who knew the difference between right and wrong.

Temptation flickered in her exhausted mind. She could tell him she was being followed. He would help?—

"Daddy!" A little girl with blonde pigtails popped up from behind the back seat. She waved a pink plastic pony at him. "Hurry!" She looked barely two years old.

Shit. Grace swerved, heading away from the man and his baby daughter. No way was she putting a kid at risk by asking for help. Some lines were not meant to be crossed.

She checked over her shoulder. The two men had left the store, their dark coats and sunglasses creating ominous silhouettes against the cloudy sky.

Shit, shit. Keep moving.

Grace reached her car, a cold sweat dampening her palms, not daring to check if they had spotted her. Tossing her backpack onto the passenger seat, she slid behind the wheel and threw the car into reverse; the tires leaving dark, ugly scars in the pristine snow. She slammed the gearshift into drive and tramped on the gas. The engine roared, the steering wheel biting into her palms as she white-knuckled it toward the exit. Maybe she was catastrophizing. Lots of men wore black coats and went to the supermarket. But they could have been looking for her and she'd die before she let him drag her back into his world.

Almost had already.

Her heart clenched as she floored the car, taking the first ramp to the busy freeway, where she merged with the traffic. Road signs flickered past in a blur as she lost all sense of time, every nerve honed searching for signs of her pursuers. Finally, her heart rate calmed. No one was on her tail.

Alone again.

Signage flashed overhead—Aurora Cove, five miles. The name meant nothing. She palmed the crumpled map on the passenger seat, but it was too difficult to read in the evening gloom that permeated the car. Fat snowflakes hit the windscreen, obscuring the surrounding landscape.

In her panic, she didn't know what direction she'd taken. How long had it been? It was dark already. She rolled her hands on the steering wheel. Her stomach was a hard knot of hunger and her eyes were dry from lack of sleep. She needed a break.

She eased up on the accelerator and took the first exit ramp, a thick forest rising around her. The road to Aurora Cove was narrow and twisty, overhung with trees that blotted out the small amount of moonlight piercing the cloud. A shudder thrummed against her palms, the steering wheel suddenly loose and unresponsive.

Black ice.

Desperate, she wrenched the wheel, but the car refused to deviate from its trajectory. adrenalin sluiced through her veins, forcing a sharp gasp from her lungs.

Time slowed, each thwack of the wiper blades marking the passing of labored seconds. Her mind raced, grasping at fragments of half-remembered driving lessons. Steer into the skid, right? Regain control.

Crowded tree trunks, illuminated by her flickering headlights, disoriented her. Everything blurred except the rushing approach of the forest.

The Ford slammed into solid wood. The seatbelt snapped taut, the sudden resistance sending shockwaves through her body as the car's rear lifted off the ground. Momentum carried her forward, into the detonating airbag with breathtaking force, before the world convulsed and went black.