Page 107 of Running to You

Michael hit the main drag, crossed to the opposite side, and pulled into the lot where they’d met, then parked around the back. “Let’s go.”

Sam opened the door and helped Eliza out, but she didn’t go to the rental car. Instead, she stumbled a few steps and threw up in the bushes at the edge of the lot.

He stood behind her, rubbing her back and knowing exactly how she felt. Mrs. Jensen, that poor woman. Had she been there when the thugs came? Or had she let herself in, thinking Linda was home? Or had she thought she could thwart a burglary?

They might never know. She’d paid the price for being neighborly.

The people after Eliza were willing to kill to get what they wanted. The thought had Sam wanting to expel his own dinner.

“We need to go,” Michael said.

Sam nodded to indicate he’d heard, then leaned down to whisper to Eliza, “You all right?”

Her head shook, but she straightened. He pulled her against his side and turned her toward the waiting sedan.

Michael was on the phone, standing by the trunk with his suitcase. Only then did Sam register what he’d said. “We?”

He held up a just-a-second finger and spoke into the phone. “A suite or adjoining rooms. Text me the details.” He ended the call and held out his hand, palm up. “I’m driving. I got us a place.”

It’d been…two minutes, maybe. How had he already done that? And anyway… “Grant got us a safe house. We can get there ourselves.”

“The hotel is close to the airport. And not connected with anybody you know.”

“Michael, you’ve done enough.” Way more than Sam would have asked or expected. “Don’t you have to work?”

Michael turned his gaze to Eliza. He said nothing, just looked at her, waiting.

“He should come with us.” She looked up at Sam, eyes watery, skin pale as death. “He can help.”

Sam wished he could argue that he didn’t need his brother’s help, but he hated to think what would have happened at Eliza’s mom’s house if he hadn’t been there. “Okay. Thanks.”

He settled Eliza in the backseat and then climbed in beside her. As long as Michael was willing to drive, Sam would cuddle with Eliza. She seemed to crave the connection as much as he did.

“I need a bathroom,” she said.

“Okay.” But Michael drove ten miles down the road before he exited the highway. They passed a couple of fast-food restaurants that would work, but Michael drove another mile before stopping at a gas station. “I’ll watch the door. Make it quick.”

Sam didn’t love taking orders from his brother. He really didn’t love that his brother knew exactly what to do. “You need anything?”

“Sparkling water,” Michael said. “Something citrus, if they have it.”

Sam walked Eliza to the ladies’ room. “Wait inside until I knock, okay?”

She nodded and disappeared into the single-stall restroom, and the lock clicked.

He stepped into the men’s room and splashed his face, then stared at his reflection. He took a deep breath, blew it out, and tried to rein in his emotions. They were ping-ponging.

Eliza could have been killed.

Mrs. Jensen had been, and he didn’t think he’d ever get over the sight of her at the bottom of the stairs. The stench.

He hadn’t vomited, but he could have. Easily. Yet Michael…

What the heck? He was acting like a pro. Like he picked locks, drove evasively, and saw dead bodies all the time.

Thank God Eliza had insisted they call him. And now she wanted him to stay close. Sam couldn’t blame her for not counting on him to keep her safe, considering what could have happened tonight if not for Michael.

He went into the store, grabbed a LaCroix for his brother and a Coke for himself. Then, he knocked on the ladies’ room door.