Never Surrender Page 12

  “Do you think the other guys are going to be okay?” Angel’s voice dragged Maggie out of her reverie.

  “I don’t know.”

  Angel leaned into Maggie, pointed to Quinn, and whispered, “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Maggie smiled. Was he her boyfriend? It had been twelve months since she’d seen him, yet the effect he had on her was beyond intense. When she’d first contacted him, she’d only wanted his help. Nothing more. But his loyalty surprised her. Even when evidence presented to him colored her in a bad light, he still supported her, and she accepted she still wanted him. She needed to be wrapped up by him, devoured by him, to become part of him. So she gave in to the desire he ignited in her soul, her being, and followed her heart. He was her lover, her love. But boyfriend?

  “Hey, Quinn.”

  “What?”

  “Are you my boyfriend?”

  “You should be so lucky.” He met her gaze in the rearview mirror and winked.

  “Cassie,” Angel hissed, elbowing her in the ribs.

  Maggie laughed.

  Thoughts and images zapped Maggie’s brain in sync with the blurring overhead lights. They should contact Lydia before just showing up at her house.

  “Are we doing the right thing going to Lydia’s? Won’t that put her and Oliver at risk?”

  “James and Lydia know the facts and the risks involved and still want to help. Why else would James tell us to meet at his home?”

  “Logically I know you’re right. Still, I don’t feel comfortable putting others at risk.”

  Maggie lapsed into silence. One thought plagued her. How did Conrad’s goons keep finding them? Was Maggie still being watched? Or was it coincidence?

  She knew Conrad, with his thugs behind him, would do everything in his power to get his girls back. And he’d probably make Maggie’s last few hours as miserable as possible. But on his own, he was nothing. There was no way he could have traced her to that house. The only ones who could get that sort of information were the cops. They knew about Quinn and Maggie and their history together as well as the friendship between Quinn and James.

  She leaned forward to ask his opinion but her head snapped back as the car screeched in a cacophony of crunching metal. Quinn fought for control as for a second time their car was rammed from behind.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maggie tightened her strangle grip on the seat belt as another ram jolted the car. The pursuing vehicle’s huge spotlight glare filled the car making the interior brighter than a summer’s day.

  “Where did he come from?” Maggie threw at Quinn.

  He didn’t answer as he wrestled with the steering wheel as if it were a rampaging beast.

  Angel screamed a shrieking, nails-down-a-blackboard scream. “Let me out!” She pummeled Maggie with her fists. “I can’t stay here. Let me out. Let me out.”

  Maggie grabbed Angel’s fists, tucked the girl tightly against her side, and in a voice a hell of a lot calmer than she felt, said, “We will get through this.” Another crunch of metal rent the air. “Hold tight.”

  Angel wasn’t listening. She had retreated inside herself. Maggie couldn’t blame her. Angel felt safe there, protecting herself the best way she could by hiding. Maggie’s lips twisted. If only that option were open to her.

  The car’s tires squealed as they were rammed again. “Get away from him!” Maggie urged.

  “Doing what I can.” Quinn checked his rearview mirror, his eyes squinted against the spotlight’s glare. “I’ve got the pedal flat, and he’s still on my tail. Sit tight.”

  They flew along a back road filled with dips and bends, and still the menace lurked behind them. The car screeched around a bend practically on two wheels.

  Maggie’s eyes met Quinn’s in the rearview mirror. “You do this sort of thing often?”

  His lips stretched wide. “I completed pursuit-vehicle training years ago.” He braced his body back into the seat as again they were rammed. A grin spread over his face as his huge hands gripped the wheel with ease. “But I haven’t driven like this since I was undercover, driving for a drug lord and being chased by cops.”

  Maggie’s confidence in getting out of this situation grew.

  Glancing out the back window, Maggie sighed in relief. They seemed to have pulled away a little. The car screamed around the next curve and shot along the straightaway.

  “We’re getting away, Angel.”

  The young girl, like a limpet attached to Maggie’s side, nodded. It was only a slight movement, but it was a response.

  Maggie watched Quinn check the rearview mirror once more.

  “Brace,” he demanded, as the car was rammed yet again.

  An explosion thundered through the car as the back window shattered, raining glass all over them. Maggie sucked in a couple of deep breaths. Keep calm.

  “Bastards are shooting at us. Get down!”

  The car surged forward as Quinn urged more speed from the bashed beast he controlled.

  “We’ll survive this, I promise. I will not let you down,” Maggie said to Angel. Are you persuading the kid or yourself? They would get out of this. They had to. After all the work that had gone into finding Angel, Maggie had to keep her safe.

  She would.

  They would.

  With that vow, the inner strength Maggie believed lost flooded back. Her edge, all sharp and raring to go, pumped her full of adrenaline. “Angel, let me go.” She pried the girl’s arms from around her waist, brushed some glass from the seat, and laid Angel down. Angel resisted at first then complied.

  “Quinn, where’s your gun?”

  “Center console.”

  Maggie grabbed the gun. It was larger than her Beretta. Beggars can’t be choosers. She checked that it was loaded and settled it into her palm.

  Another shot. More glass. Another scream from Angel.

  Maggie eased back onto the seat, sucked in a breath, then turned toward the blown-out back window. She raised her head and peered outside. The huge monster was still on their tail. She inched her gun hand forward, tightened her grip against the wind trying to rip it from her grasp, and fired. The car bore down on them. Fuck, how did you miss a target that size? She ducked back down, her heart knocking madly against her ribs.

  She shoved her trunk hard against the seat and raised herself up. Deep breath, Maggie. She focused on the grill of the pursuing vehicle. She saw the shot as clear as day. The car bore down on them. As the brightness from the one remaining spotlight burned into her retinas, she slit her eyes but refused to shut them.

  Use both hands, Maggie. Concentrate. Gentle. Now squeeze. Quinn’s voice inside her head issued the instruction, as he did so long ago when he’d perfected her shooting skills. Sounds of rushing wind and rubber on asphalt swallowed the shot. Missed. Big breath. Another squeeze. The car behind veered sharply to the left and drifted toward the dirt shoulder.

  “Yes.” Maggie didn’t know what she’d hit, but she watched the silhouetted driver struggling to get the vehicle on the road. They’d slowed to avoid losing control. Good, mission accomplished.

  She slipped the safety on the gun, placed it on the floor, and turned to Angel. “C’mon, we’re getting out of here. When I tell you, jump.”

  The girl sat up, her entire body shaking violently. “I can’t.”

  Maggie hardened her heart against the vulnerability in Angel’s eyes. “It’s not open for discussion. Quinn. Next bend, pull over, we’re getting out.”

  “Like hell.”

  “Witness safety comes first.”

  “Not going to happen, Maggie. You get out, you’re dead.”

  She craned her neck again and stared out the back. They had fallen farther behind.

  “We’ve got a head start.”

  “Won’t be enough.”

  Maggie racked her brain. They had to get out of this damned car. It was way too obvious. It would be a cop magnet. They would be pulled over and hauled downtown, and Quinn was right, getting out wa
sn’t a hot idea. C’mon, Maggie, think. She met Quinn’s gaze in the mirror, and as her breathing eased, calmness filled her. With calmness came clarity. “I’ve got another idea.”

  “I’m listening.” Quinn checked the rearview mirror.

  “Next bend, pull over to the shoulder. Then we wait.”

  “For what?”

  “For the first sign of his lights coming toward us.”

  “And?”

  She leaned toward him. “Angel and I stay down, and as soon as you see him, take off.”

  “That’s it?”

  “When he sees us take off, he’s going to ask himself, ‘Did they get out?’ He’ll probably pull over, and if he doesn’t get out, his off-sider will. They’ll have a quick scout around and probably contact their boss.”

  “And that’ll give us a minute, maybe two.”

  Maggie nodded. “We can be a couple of kilometers up the road.”

  He nodded. “Sounds crazy enough to try. Okay, let’s get this party started.” He pulled the car over to the shoulder, placed it into first, and revved the motor.

  The wait began.

  The pursuers weren’t that far behind, but each second ticked by like an hour. From her position crouched down in the back, she watched Quinn as he focused on the obliterated rear window. His brow was creased, his mouth a firm, unrelenting slash. He looked ready to slay. She closed her eyes as memories of their time together earlier replayed in her mind. She sighed. Her heart ached for him.

  “Angel, keep your head down. Listen to Maggie, and do as she says.”

  “I will.”

  Hearing the girl respond lifted Maggie’s spirits. An eternity passed, then lights speared the night. Quinn left the hand brake on and revved hard. The second the car flew around the bend, he released the brake, flattened the accelerator, and surged forward. The tires spat gravel and dirt into the air as he snaked out onto the road.

  “Zero to a hundred in eight seconds. I’m impressed,” Maggie said.

  “Stay down,” he demanded. “They’re pulling over.”

  Maggie’s breath lumped in her throat.

  “Passenger’s out, mobile in hand.”

  “It worked.”

  “Sometimes you get a break.”

  Maggie helped Angel onto the seat then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s shoulders and pressed her lips against his nape. “Thanks. Now, how fast can this baby go?”

  They were well away from their pursuers, but there was no guarantee there wouldn’t be another vehicle waiting for them farther up the road. “Get on the motorway. It will be harder for them to get too close.”

  He nodded and continued driving. They were a few kilometers before their turn off when the engine began to splutter.

  “What the hell?” Quinn maneuvered off the freeway and limped the vehicle into a shopping center car park, pulled over, popped the hood, and climbed out. Maggie followed and stood beside him as he inspected it.

  “Not good. We need another car.”

  “Maybe James can send that driver.”

  “I’ll get onto that, but first, we need to dump this one,” Quinn said.

  “Why?”

  “If they’re still hunting us, they’ll be looking for this.” He slapped the bonnet of the car.

  Maggie looked back the way they’d come. “Do you think they are?”

  He frowned. “They just keep showing up. I’ll dump the car in one of the other car parks and meet you and Angel over there at that charity food van. You sit and keep watch. I’ll be five minutes max. You’ll be safe.” He turned and opened the car door. “C’mon, Princess, out.” He helped Angel from the car.

  Angel’s stomach grumbled.

  “Hungry?” Maggie asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s get you something to eat.” She turned back to Quinn.

  “Take this.” He placed the mobile phone in her hand. “Our numbers are programmed in.”

  “You’ll need it to organize transport for us.” She shoved it in his pocket. “Go. We’re fine.”

  “Wait for me,” he insisted.

  “We will,” Maggie assured him. Before he’d taken more than a few steps, Maggie called, “Quinn, hang on.”

  “What?”

  She walked into his arms, gripped his head between her palms, and kissed him hard on his mouth. Heat flared between them, and she reluctantly stepped back. “Thank you.”

  He trailed his knuckle across her lips, smiled, then climbed back into the car.

  Maggie gave him a wave as he drove off and turned toward the food van. Kids crowded the busy streets. Some of them were obviously friends on their way home from celebrating something. They laughed and cheered, wrapped up in themselves. No problems there. Street kids hung back in the shadows, and they also hung in groups, but there was no laughter. Maggie shivered when she remembered her time as one of those kids. She put the images away. Now wasn’t the time.

  “Cassie Lee?”

  “Call me Maggie. Cassie Lee belonged to that club. She’s gone. Finished. Okay?”

  “Maggie, when can I go home?”

  What to say? Should she be straight up and honest or make up some bullshit story and lie to Angel? No, Maggie wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t right.

  Their footsteps echoed as they walked. The charity food van sat in a well-lit area, with tables and chairs set up for the clientele, a menagerie of race, age, and society dropouts. Maggie knew local police monitored these places looking for runaways and almost changed her mind to wait for Quinn farther up the street when Angel’s tummy rumbled again.

  She scanned the area. No uniforms in sight. She couldn’t see anyone who looked as though they didn’t belong. “Let’s go.” Maggie urged Angel forward and sat her at a table well away from the van. “Don’t let me out of your sight. If you see anyone approach me, stay where you are. I’ll get rid of them as soon as I can then come get you.”

  “Okay.”

  With Angel settled, Maggie joined the queue. The couple running the service was friendly and didn’t ask questions. After introducing themselves, they offered Maggie her choice of food. She accepted two sandwiches that still looked appetizing. They placed fruit on the side of the plates and handed her some pamphlets for different welfare agencies. She helped herself to cups of coffee and, balancing everything on a tray, moved back to Angel.

  After a grateful smile, Angel tucked into her makeshift meal. Snippets of football talk and chatter about the new mobile medical clinic, run by a female doctor, filtered back from the van, comforting Maggie. Someone mentioned another van run by a different charity mob. Maggie cautiously scanned the area, listening, watching.

  She smiled at Angel and was rewarded with a big grin in return. Until then, Maggie hadn’t noticed the dimple in Angel’s cheek. Or the sweetness of her smile. Until now, Angel was just a scared, young girl, Maggie’s much-needed witness. Maggie couldn’t wait to get her home, so the kid could put this behind her and get on with her life.

  Angel was stuffing the last of the apple in her mouth when her whole demeanor changed. She snapped her mouth shut and wiped the juice on her lip with her sleeve. Her eyes grew huge in her ashen face. Her fingers crept across the table and clutched Maggie’s.

  The hairs on Maggie’s arms lifted. She slipped into cop made and scoped out the area. A couple of uniformed cops stood near the van. They didn’t look familiar to Maggie, but Angel wasn’t looking at the cops. Her gaze was on the individual standing a bit farther behind them, and Maggie realized why the kid looked sick.

  It was Paul Benson, head of security from the club. Thug number one. The one who’d taken great delight in beating Angel and whom Maggie suspected of murdering Beth. He approached the woman serving some of the street kids and showed her a picture.

  Hysteria bubbled. That’s probably a photo of us. A little while ago her edge, her street smarts, buoyed her. Now Maggie wanted to run away and hide. Her control slipped. Then Angel’s soft, dark eyes filled
with trust snared Maggie’s gaze. Maggie’s confidence surged, and she knew there was no way she would let Angel down.

  Maggie swallowed her nervousness and leaned toward Angel. “I need you to be strong,” she whispered. “That creep will not get us. Okay? Quinn will be back in a minute.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Maggie believed her. The change in Angel was amazing. Her eyes were alert, her mouth determined. Angel didn’t want to be a victim anymore. When Angel hissed, “He’s going to get his,” Maggie knew the kid wouldn’t freeze. Now all Maggie had to do was get them out of here.

  “Pull up your hood.”

  Angel did.

  “Now turn slowly. See the power pole to your right?”

  A nod.

  “There’s a pathway there. It leads to a park.”

  “How do you know?” the whisper demanded.

  “You can see the floodlights. It’s probably a football field or something.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “When I tell you, get up, pick up your rubbish, walk toward the bin and dump it, then just stroll toward the path. Don’t look back. When you get to the field, there will probably be a swing park or a kiddies’ sandbox. Wait there. I’ll follow. Be brave, Angel. I won’t let you down.”

  Maggie turned her attention back to Paulie, who was still talking to the worker. She didn’t seem to giving him any help whatsoever. Good. The uniforms questioned a couple of kids and seemed oblivious to the slime behind them. They didn’t look in Maggie and Angel’s direction.

  “Go.”

  With no other prompting, Angel rose, gathered her rubbish, and strolled toward the pathway as though she didn’t have a care in the world. The person moving away from the table had momentarily snagged Paulie’s attention. Maggie was grateful for the unisex clothing disguising Angel’s figure when Paulie turned back to the woman beside him.

  Maggie leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her fists to give the impression of being cool, calm, and totally disinterested in her surroundings, when what she really wanted to do was chase after Angel. But she had to see if Paulie approached the uniforms first.

  She had no definite proof cops were involved. Even if Paulie spoke to these cops, it proved nothing, so why was she still hanging around tempting fate? Did she want a confrontation here? Did she want to bring it to a head now with no proof, then be dragged off to a holding cell and charged with a murder? No, she wasn’t stupid. She’d get them. Then they would rot in jail.