Page 150 of Running to You

She gave him a sideways look. “The fear is genuine.”

“You don’t have to be afraid. That man is not getting anywhere near you.”

That didn’t change anything, of course. She worried for the people she loved.

Sam did too.

They’d continued south on the interstate to Hooksett, then took surface roads into Manchester and parked between the back of a dingy strip mall and a chain-link fence.

He texted a number Michael had given him when he’d directed them to this address. He knew a guy who could hook them up with equipment.

Thirty seconds later, an old man with gray hair and a beard Santa would envy walked out a rear door carrying a cardboard box. He peered both ways as if checking for enemies and then approached the sedan.

Or, more appropriately, the trunk. He knocked on the lid, Sam popped it open, and the guy dumped the box inside and returned to the door without a word.

“Uh, that was weird,” Eliza said.

Weird indeed, making Sam wonder what was in the box. But at least they were done.

They’d returned to Franconia a little after six and ate in the hotel restaurant. The place was definitely date-worthy—tables with white linens, gold-trimmed stemware, and vases of fresh flowers, none of which held a candle to the vista the glass-fronted room overlooked.

He wasn’t sorry the guys weren’t back yet. He definitely wasn’t sorry to be alone with Eliza. He peppered her with questions about Levi, gleaning as much information as she would share. They’d talked about the year they’d dated—lighthearted memories that made them both laugh.

Neither of them mentioned the future. He didn’t know why Eliza avoided the subject, but he knew why he did.

Because the future felt like it was right there, so close he could almost touch it, this life with his son and the woman he loved. He could taste yummy meals shared around a table. He could hear the thump-thump of a basketball, the echo of childish laughter. He could smell the bonfire at the family camp and see the glow of the flames reflected in his little boy’s face.

He was afraid to vocalize all of that, as if speaking it would jinx it. So they kept the conversation light, never getting close to the terror they both felt. After dinner, they cuddled by the fire in the living room. He’d had every intention of sitting there until the guys got back, but exhaustion caught up with him.

“All right, mister.” Eliza stood after his third yawn in five minutes. “Off to bed with you.”

“But I wanna stay up.” His whine elicited a grin.

“Now I know where Levi gets it.”

The thought that his son inherited anything from him—even an annoying whine—made him ache with longing. How could he miss somebody he’d never met?

How could he love somebody he’d never met? And yet he did. So much.

Eliza took his hand and tugged until he stood. “We both need a good night’s sleep.” She led the way to the staircase. “We’ll find out in the morning what they learned.”

* * *

Sam rushed through his shower the next morning, eager to find out what Jon, Grant, and Michael had learned. Hair still wet, he hurried to the sunroom.

As he approached, the door opened, and one of the waitstaff stepped out carrying a tray of empty mugs and plates. He nodded at Sam, who smiled and grabbed the door before it closed.

“…make sure you’re safe,” Jon was saying. “We’ll be listening to everything through the earpiece and watching the video feed. That way we’ll know what we’re stepping into.”

“What would I have to do exactly?” Eliza asked.

Sam didn’t hide, but he didn’t announce his presence, either, just stood at the door. Because…what were they talking about? Eliza’s and Michael’s backs were to him. Neither Grant nor Jon seemed to notice him.

“You’ll just move through the space, and we’ll see the video.” That from Grant.

“That’ll give us information about the layout and how many people are there,” Jon said. “And when we come in, you can get innocents down.”

Wait.