Colton's Fugitive Family. Jennifer MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Chapter 2

      Wolf’s cries overpowered Demi’s fear. Holding him against her in the baby carrier pack she’d put on, she tried to calm him and keep him quiet. How had Devlin found her? Had Lucas led him here?

      The Jeep was useless with a flat tire. She’d have to change it, and how would she do that without being noticed or being killed? Had she been able to reach the Jeep before the gunfire exploded, Wolf wouldn’t be in tears and she’d be gone. Now only her baby’s safety mattered. She had to get back to the cabin.

      If she could find Lucas’s keys, she could still get away, but that would have to wait. Her conscience nettled her that she’d be leaving him here with a killer. No matter what he said, he intended to hand her over to authorities. What else could she do? She had to think of Wolf. If she was arrested, what would happen to him?

      Seeing Lucas disappear into the woods, she ran to the cabin, going in the front. She took a moment to calm Wolf, rocking him and looking down into his teary green eyes. He had red hair and a cute face. Right now his cheeks were bulbous with his open and crying mouth.

      “I’m sorry.” She kissed his head. “I’m sorry.” This was all Devlin’s fault. Her son should not have to endure this. He should be sleeping in his crib, warm, safe and dry.

      The baby began to quiet, looking up at her in a way that always melted her, with such trust and love. His sleepy eyes closed and opened. She’d put him to bed once she was sure he felt safe again.

      Demi looked around the cabin. Lucas had left nothing behind. She went to the window he’d broken in through and looked outside. There was a backpack there.

      She covered Wolf in the soft blanket and checked her surroundings on the porch, making sure the gunman had fled. Lucas had no doubt chased him through the woods. She hurried to the side of the cabin. Crouching at the backpack, holding Wolf securely against her, even though the baby carrier did that for her, she saw he’d fallen asleep. She dug through the contents of Lucas’s bag. The main compartment held nothing but extra clothes and water bottles. The smaller pockets held other essentials like trail mix, a GPS and a small first aid kit. No mobile phone. No handcuffs. No keys.

      Standing, she returned to the front, not seeing Lucas and not hearing any gunfire. He had his keys on him. She was trapped here. She closed and locked the door and put Wolf to bed. Seeing that Lucas had closed the window, she locked it and then the secret door before going back into the living room. It was cold in the cabin. She went to the window he’d compromised and closed and locked that. Getting duct tape from the kitchen junk drawer that served as her tool box, she taped up the hole in the glass. Before closing the drapes, she saw that two or three inches of fresh snow already covered the ground.

      A knock on the front door told her Lucas had returned. He’d spent a while out there, tracking the shooter.

      She went to the door and said, “Just go away, Lucas.”

      “I can’t leave, Demi, especially now. Devlin got away.”

      He was that sure it was Devlin who’d shot at them? Devlin could afford to hire a gunman. He’d hired witnesses. Why not a hit man?

      “Go away.”

      “Let me in.”

      “No.”

      “Demi...”

      “No! Go away. You should have never come here.” She kept her voice low enough not to disturb Wolf but loud enough for Lucas to hear her.

      “You need me. Let me in.”

      “I don’t need you,” she snapped, her defenses flaring. What made him think she needed him?

      “You have a baby. You need help. You can’t defend him on your own. Surely you can see that. I can protect you both.”

      A few months ago, when she responded to Shane’s text saying that the baby was okay, she’d immediately known she’d made a mistake. She could trust her brother, but he worked with cops. They’d know to look for a woman and infant. That had been a rare error on her part.

      And Lucas did have a good point. When the shooter had fired at her, she’d gone wild with anxiety that Wolf would be harmed.

      But this was Lucas offering his protection.

      “How can I be sure you’re going to help me?”

      “You won’t be. This storm is getting bad and you have a flat tire and broken windows in your Jeep. You need a vehicle. You can’t stay here anymore, Demi. Once the storm clears, I’ll get you out of here.”

      Did he speak with a silver tongue? Although she could not argue his points. Would she be better off finding another way to get herself and Wolf somewhere else?

      “Let me in. We can talk about what to do in the morning. Devlin won’t try to come back tonight. If he does, he’ll be trapped in this storm.”

      With them? No, Devlin or his hit man would kill her and possibly Wolf. Then he could just take shelter in her cabin until the storm passed. The thought of Wolf hurt like that, or dead, made her sick.

      Lucas could make it to town before the storm really got bad, but he’d return once the roads were passable again and she’d be hard-pressed to get away before he did. On the other hand, if she allowed him to stay, she could ride the storm out and wait for another opportunity to escape. She could take his keys while he slept. He’d be okay in the cabin until he found a way out. An outdoorsman like him could hike to the road or even town. By then she’d be long gone.

      She unlocked the door, pulled it open and stepped back.

      Lucas stood with snowflakes covering him, his gun held down at his side and his pack slung over his other shoulder. He looked manly and strong and sexier than she’d ever seen him.

      “I knew you’d see reason.” He grinned.

      “This doesn’t mean I trust you.” She folded her arms.

      He walked inside. “Oh, believe me, I know.” He brushed the snow off himself and stomped his feet. He looked around. “Where is the baby?”

      “In bed.”

      He looked at her. “Can I see him?” He put his pack down.

      Indecision gnawed her. He must be wondering if the baby was Bo’s child—if he had a nephew. What harm would it be to allow him a look?

      She led him to her bedroom and the secret door, which she unlocked to allow him inside.

      “This is a little overkill, isn’t it?” he asked as he walked to the crib.

      “You think it’s overkill after being shot at tonight?” She came to stand at the foot of the crib. Wolf lay sleeping on his back, the blanket up to his chin.

      Lucas turned on the light on the side table. Then he used his finger to pull the blanket farther down. He gazed at Wolf for endless seconds. Then his eyes lifted to catch hers. She saw the unvoiced question. Was the baby his nephew? Next she saw the pain of loss and a wish for some kind of link to his dead brother.

      Empathy took her by surprise. She met his eyes for a while, flustered and reeling. This felt like a connection, but there could be none because this was her enemy.

      To her amazement, Lucas averted his eyes first. “What’s his name?”

      “Wolf.”