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Alarms were still blaring.
But they were almost out. Beau curled his arms around Avalon and urged her in front of him. He glanced back.
Moses dipped his head toward him.
Moses Milroy had sure changed one hell of a lot over the years. Once upon a time, plenty of people would have been sure that Moses would be the one who wound up behind the bars. Being a prisoner. Not the individual keeping the prisoners in check. But Moses was a proud father of two now. His wife was finishing up nursing school.
They planned to move down to Pensacola in a few months. Fresh starts for them both.
Beau would make sure that Moses was given one damn fine housewarming present when that move came.
Then Beau and Avalon were being checked by more guards. Cleared. Sent out of the prison and into the sunshine as, behind them, chaos still reigned.
Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
When the last guards gave them the all clear, Beau opened the passenger side of his car and ushered her inside. He hooked the seatbelt across her, then ran his hands quickly over her arms and legs. “You’re not hurt.” Not a question.
Her hands fisted in her lap.
“Avalon, you’re not hurt.”
Still didn’t sound like a question to her, but she managed to shake her head because she had the feeling he was not going to move until she did something, and she very, very much would like for him to move. To get in the car and get them out of there. Now, please.
He slammed the door and rushed around to the driver’s side. In moments, the Jag’s engine was growling to life.
“He…knew you drove a Jag.” Her heartbeat thudded too loudly in her ears. “He’s been watching you. Having someone watch you. Everett knew this specific car. He mentioned your Jag.” He’d been taunting them. And now he was dead? It wasn’t that she felt bad about his death. He’d been a monster. One of the worst killers out there.
But, he’d had answers, dammit. Answers that she needed. And now she might never get them.
“He wasn’t talking about this car. The bastard was talking about the ride I was stealing the night you and I first met.”
She looked up from her fisted hands. Her stare flew to his hard profile. A muscle flexed along his jaw.
“Didn’t you wonder why I was there? In the middle of the damn night?”
“I was…” Avalon swallowed to ease the dryness of her throat. “I was just grateful you were.” She hadn’t stopped to question why he’d been at the scene.
The engine growled louder as they sped down the road.
“I’m surprised they let us leave,” she breathed. She truly was. “They searched us, and they checked the car, I know they did, but I-I thought they might hold us until the facility was secure.”
“No prisoners are getting out. You’re only out because the last thing the warden wanted was a PR nightmare on the news in which a pretty crime writer got attacked or killed in his prison.” A growl. Not from the car this time. From him. “You know what you do is damn dangerous. I do my best to protect you, but I can’t control everyone. They’re fucking killers and rapists. The worst bastards out there. You can’t control them. You can’t play your games with them. Dammit, what if I had not been there?”
“But you’re always there.” Her nails bit into her palms. “Aren’t you?”
That muscle jerked harder in his jaw.
“You do your best to protect me…” She let those words—his words—linger between them. “You knew the guard who led us out of the prison. Moses. I saw the way you two looked at each other.”
He didn’t deny her words. Didn’t confirm them either.
“You knew him,” she repeated.
“Yes.” A hiss.
“But you know others in there, too, don’t you? Maybe some guards. Maybe some prisoners.” Everything was slipping into place for her. “You’ve got connections everywhere, don’t you?” The implications of his true reach stunned her. “I once asked if you were a crime boss, and my God, I think you are.”
“Told you before, my businesses are legitimate.”
