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Finally, she nodded. “You’re right. I can call a taxi, though. Go to a hotel for the night.”
“Don’t be silly. You should stay close, just in case.”
Just in case what? Her throat burned, but the question wouldn’t leave her lips. Instead, she said, “Okay. I hate to impose, but I don’t have a lot of choices right now.”
Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw that she had a text message.
Tell anyone and the boy dies
She gasped and dropped the phone. They wouldn’t really hurt little David, would they? She squeezed the skin between her eyes and began praying.
* * *
“What is it?” Christopher leaned down and picked up the phone. The words he read there made his blood go cold. He glanced up at Ashley and saw that her face was deathly pale. The woman looked as if she were on the brink of a breakdown. Who wouldn’t be, in her shoes? Two of the people she loved most in the world had been snatched right in front of her, and she was sure to feel helpless about what to do.
A tear trickled down her face. She looked so alone with her arms pulled across her chest. Christopher put her phone on the table and impulsively pulled her into his arms in a feeble attempt to offer comfort.
She stiffened in his embrace. Bad idea, he realized. Really bad idea.
He released her, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m sorry, Ashley.”
She sighed. “I am, too.”
The way she said the words made him wonder about their meaning. What was she sorry about? That he was the only one who could help her?
Her eyes met his, and he could see the emotions pulling at her.
“I didn’t come back to rekindle a romance, Christopher,” she whispered. “You know that. Right?”
He nodded, picking up on the compassion and sensitivity in her words. “Of course.”
Part of him had never forgotten about Ashley, but he knew she wouldn’t forgive him for calling off their engagement. It was just as well that way. At least their rift would help them both keep their distance.
He pointed toward the back door, ready to end this conversation. “How about if I show you upstairs?”
Maybe some time away from each other would be just what they both needed. Put them in the same room for ten minutes and fireworks had begun exploding—and not the good kind of fireworks, either.
He grabbed some sheets and blankets before they stepped out the back door. Darkness surrounded them. Christopher reached back inside to flip on a small light, but nothing happened. “Must be burned out,” he muttered. “Just watch your step.”
The full force of winter was evident in the dried leaves along the wooden floorboards beneath them and the skeletal outline of trees in the distance. The entire back side of the house faced the beautiful and massive James River. The grass faded into marshland and then into glimmering blue water—when you could see it during the daytime hours, at least. Tonight, all that was visible was the blackness.
“Follow me.” Christopher led her up a flight of wooden stairs, pulled out some keys and unlocked the door just as another breeze swept over the area. “I heard we might get some snow,” he muttered, pushing the door open. Their conversation somehow seemed awkward, like they were strangers trying to fill the silence.
“Yeah, I heard that, too. It’s been a while since we’ve had a good snowstorm in this area.” Her cheeks flushed as she said the words.
Christopher remembered a snowstorm they’d had here nine years ago. He and Ashley had spent the whole weekend huddled inside together by the fire and talking about forever. They’d talked about marriage and children and how they were going to celebrate their 25th anniversary. Too many memories for his comfort.
They stepped into the apartment, which was located over a detached garage. He tried the light switch, but again, nothing happened. “Must be a breaker. I’ll check on it in a second. Let me just put these sheets down.”
As he placed the sheets on the bed in the darkened room, his gaze scanned the place quickly. He’d only been up here once since he’d been back, but the place appeared untouched. He turned back toward Ashley, who stood uncomfortably in the center of the room, her arms wrapped around herself again. His gaze latched on to her a moment. Was it even possible that she was more beautiful than before? She’d filled out more, but the extra weight looked good on her. She looked more naturally beautiful with only a little makeup on and her hair straight and long—fuss-free, if he had to guess.
She looked up at him, the strain in her eyes obvious. “I know this is awkward, and I’m sorry about that. I’ll repay you for your help. I don’t know how, but I will.”
How did Christopher tell her that he was the one who needed to repay her for all of the heartache he’d caused? He bit down on his lip. He couldn’t.
All he could do was to help her find her brother and nephew.
* * *
As much as Ashley resented the man in front of her, God had been trying to teach her a lesson in forgiveness lately. Yet she’d kept holding on. Now she would have no choice but to face her feelings of resentment and abandonment head-on.
Christopher stepped closer, the raw look in his eyes making her throat go dry. She wondered what had changed in him over the past several years since she’d seen him last. “I’m glad you came to me, Ashley. I want to help.”
Nothing will ever make up for your choosing your career over me. She didn’t say the words aloud. Instead, she reached for the sheets on the bed. “I’ll be fine. If you don’t mind hitting the breaker, I can take care of the rest in here.”
He continued staring until finally he stepped back and nodded, his hands on his hips. “Good night, Ashley.”
She hugged the sheets to her. “Good night, Christopher.”
He took a step toward the door when gunfire exploded outside.
“Get down!” Christopher threw her to the floor, covering her body with his.
Her heart pounded louder than a drum in her ears as prickly fear took hold of her. What was going on? Had those men found her?
Her gaze skittered across the room. They had to hide—but where? There was only this room, a closet and a small bathroom. There was no other escape except the door they’d entered through, and stepping outside now would make them open targets.
The gunfire continued. Glass broke. A car alarm wailed. It sounded like a war outside.
She turned enough to see Christopher. She flinched when she saw the expression on his face. She’d seen a lot of expressions on him before, but never one like this. His face was tight, his eyes livid, his lips pulled into a rigid line. He looked like a cat ready to pounce.
The war. Karina had warned Ashley in their brief conversation earlier that the war had changed him. Was this what she meant?
Fear unlike anything she’d ever felt before today threatened to suffocate her. It was only a matter of time before the gunmen found them up here. It was only a matter of time before they killed her and Christopher.
Ashley scooted from beneath him and crouched by the wall. “Do you still have your gun?” she whispered.
Christopher pulled himself up and squatted beside her, alert and ready to spring into action. He shook his head. “I left it on the table inside. Wasn’t planning on needing it.”
“They’re going to kill us.” Her voice cracked as the gunfire continued. Was it her imagination or was the sound getting closer and closer?
He gripped her arm, his voice stern. “Don’t say that. We’ll get out of this somehow.”
Was he in the same place she was? “We’re sitting ducks. It’s just a matter of time before they find us.”
“Don’t talk like that. I’ve gotten out of worse before.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “Stay low and go into the bathroom. We’ll buy ourselves as much time as possible.”
Her hands trembled against the floor as she dragged herself toward the small space. He’d gotten out of worse than this? She couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to imagine.
Nausea roiled in her gut. Lord, help us. Help David and Josh.
Just who were these men? Why did they want her dead? How had they found her? The questions repeated themselves over and over.
Her hands connected with the cool tile of the bathroom floor. Gunshots continued to explode outside. They were trying to make sure Ashley was dead, weren’t they? And out here in the country, there was no one else around to hear the commotion and come help.
Fear threatened to seize each of her muscles. Christopher jetted into the bathroom behind her and quietly shut the door. Ashley climbed into the bathtub—located against an interior wall—and Christopher sat beside her. She pulled her knees to her chest and tried to even out her breathing.
The cold air seemed to crackle with fear, with certainty of death.
Then everything went silent outside.
Ashley wasn’t sure which was worse—the gunfire or the silence.
What were the gunmen doing? Had they gone inside the house to look for them, to make sure a bullet had pierced their flesh?
When they discovered Ashley wasn’t there, would they come out to the garage to finish the job? She pressed herself harder into the cool tile.
Christopher leaned close enough that Ashley could feel his breath on her cheek. “Stay here. Understand?”
“Where are you going?” She grabbed his arm, desperate to keep her only known ally close—even if he had broken her heart at one time.
He locked gazes with her, that same confidence that had always made her feel safe shining in his eyes. “I’m going to find something to fight with.”
“But they have guns!” She squeezed harder, her own fear creeping in.
“If I go down, I’m going to go down fighting, Ashley.” His voice was steady, holding not even a hint of disbelief. “I want you to stay in here. Lock the door when I leave. Understand?”
She couldn’t answer. She only stared at him silently. Despair threatened to bite deep.
“Understand?”
Finally, she nodded as reality set in.
He tried to stand but Ashley pulled him back down. “I came here for your help, not to get you killed.” Her voice cracked with fear and regret. How had her life turned into this?
His eyes softened for a moment. “I know. Trust me. Okay?”
She didn’t know if she could ever trust him again. But in this moment, she had no choice. She nodded. Her heart pounded in her ears as he pulled the door open. She held her breath, waiting for more gunfire to break out—only this time closer.
There was nothing.
He pointed to the lock before closing the door. Tears rolled down her face as she turned the button and heard the mechanism click in place.
Lord, be with him. Please. He may have broken my heart, but I never wanted this.
Something creaked outside.
The steps. Someone was coming up the steps.
Fear squeezed tighter as she braced herself for whatever was about to come.
THREE
All Christopher had been able to find in the closet was an old metal pipe that was probably leftover from some plumbing work. It wasn’t a gun or a grenade, but it would work. He didn’t have any other options.
He stood on the other side of the door frame, pressed into the wall and ready to swing into action. Adrenaline surged through him, intensifying his heart rate and causing sweat to dot his forehead. If he could catch the shooter off guard, maybe he had a chance.
The problem was that he’d estimated there to be at least three shooters. All of that gunfire had come from more than one weapon. These men carried semiautomatics, and they’d brought no shortage of ammunition. One man he might be able to take. But an unarmed man taking on three men with semiautomatic weapons?
Another round of gunshots cracked the air outside of his home. Flashbacks of the Middle East pounded his memories. Mortar shells, improvised explosive devices, enemy combatants. Men bleeding, women crying, children searching for their parents.
He ran a hand over his eyes. No, he was in Virginia now. Not a dusty village in Afghanistan. So why could he practically smell the burning of C-4? Why did his skin feel gritty with sand and dust?
He shook his head. Snap out of it, Jordan.
But the memories continued to batter him. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could turn off his thoughts as easily as turning off a TV.
Another creak on the stairs pulled him back to reality, back to the here and now. Someone was definitely coming up. Christopher gripped the pipe tighter, bracing himself for the coming struggle.
Another creak. Then another. They were getting closer. They had to be only a few steps away.
Christopher would swing as soon as they opened the door. Best-case scenario, he’d knock the man out and grab his weapon. Worst-case scenario...well, he wouldn’t go there.
All he knew was that he and Ashley might be the only hope for saving a little boy. That was worth fighting for.
A wooden step outside moaned under the weight of an intruder. Whoever the man was, he was right outside the door now. Christopher could practically hear him breathing, could almost feel his presence only inches away, separated by the door.
He tightened his grip on the cylinder in his hands. His muscles were wound tight enough to spring. Sweat trickled down from his temple. It was do or die.
Just then, a bullet pierced the air. His gaze darted across the dark room. Where had that gunshot come from? It was too far away to have come from the man outside the door. Even more concerning—had it pierced the garage? Was Ashley okay?
He stared at the door, waiting to see the handle jiggle. He anticipated more shots exploding. Something hit the landing outside the door with a loud thud. A moan followed, then a grunt.
He willed himself to remain still. Everything in him wanted to open the door and see what was happening. He had to remain silent, though. Patience could mean life or death; winning a battle or losing it. He’d learned that through experience.
Afghanistan flashed into his mind again. At once, he was transported back in time and pressed against the wall of an abandoned house. Rags—or were they clothes?—were strewn across the dirty floor. The air smelled like death.
Where was Liam? Why wasn’t he answering his radio? The insurgents were—
Another thud sounded outside. Christopher snapped back to reality, shaking his head to dislodge his memories of war. The thud was followed by what sounded like something large being dragged away. What in the world was happening out there? The sounds repeated for a few minutes until finally there was silence again.
He waited. And waited.
Were these men planning something else? Or had their original plans been thwarted? By what, though?
Staying low, he crept back to the bathroom. He tapped on the door once. “Ashley. It’s me.”
The door opened so quickly that Christopher was certain her hand had been on the knob the whole time. She practically fell into the room, fell into him. Her limbs shook with fear.
