Desert Ice Daddy by Marton, Dana (best motivational novels .txt) 📗

She had no other choice, she told herself. This was his best chance. But knowing that didn’t make watching him go any easier.

“I still don’t see Uncle Flint, Mom,” he called back when he was just a blur through the darkness and her tears.

“Keep going, honey. He’s there somewhere. Just keep walking straight and I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”

She was sending him into so much danger. So many bad things could happen to a little kid out here at night. She didn’t even dare think of the wildlife. But with the desert, there could be some element of luck involved, a chance. When it came to a bullet at close range, the chance of lucking out was zero.

And she trusted Akeem, believed that whatever it took, he would come for them. Believed it enough to send her son into the wilderness.

She blinked her eyes, wanting to see him just as long as she possibly could, but Jake stepped between them, drawing up the gun to her chest.

“Now that the touching part of the night is over, where is my damn money?”

“You’ll have your damn money,” she snapped, her heart breaking because as she looked over Jake’s shoulder, she could no longer see Christopher. She had missed that last second, possibly her last chance to see that sweet little shape, to escort it a few steps farther with her gaze in all that darkness.

“Now,” Jake growled the single word.

Her heart was shattering into jagged little pieces as she pointed at the guardhouse behind them, behind the gate she’d just locked.

“You couldn’t say that when we were there?” Jake looked like he might backhand her again.

She couldn’t have said it, in fact. Christopher needed time to get as far from here as possible before Jake put his hands on that money.

He was going for the padlock already. “You better be right about this. Come on.”

But she couldn’t make her feet move as she heard her son’s faint voice call out, “Uncle Flint? I can’t see you,” in the distance.

Chapter Ten

Akeem bided his time until he could see the silhouette of the refinery chimney against the night sky in the distance. Then he slumped to his left as if he’d passed out or fallen asleep, went for the gun with his right hand, brought it around and smacked the butt of the weapon against the driver’s temple with full force.

The vehicle veered to the left.

He was grabbing the steering wheel the next second, reaching over with his other hand to open the driver-side door, then kicking the unconscious man to the ground, all with the pickup barely slowing.

And he was on his way.

He slammed the gas pedal to the floor, watching closely, the ground illuminated by the headlights, careful to avoid bigger rocks and potholes. Flipping the pickup over on this uneven terrain at this high speed would have been only too easy. He didn’t think of the dangers, or the hundred points of pain that was his body, he just did what he had to do in that moment, then the next and the next. He had one thought only now—to get back to Taylor and Christopher in time.

FINDING PETE’S BODY in the guardhouse did not improve Jake Kenner’s mood. He made Taylor pull the dead guy outside, so he would have more room looking around in there.

She took her time, groaning under the weight, which wasn’t all pretend. Pete hadn’t been the wiry cowboy type. He had at least thirty pounds on her. She’d never been more eager to be done with a task, but she dragged this one out to give Akeem time to get back before Jake decided that the game was over.

“Where is it?” he barked at her. “I don’t see anything. If you lied—”

“In there. I didn’t see exactly where Akeem put it, but in there, definitely.” She kept glancing toward the desert, but could no longer see or hear Christopher no matter how hard she tried.

“Stay where I can see you.” Jake tossed the chair out, and it crashed into the hard ground less than a yard from her, making her jump. Then came a rickety old desk that splintered into pieces on impact. He was ripping the place apart.

She moved back toward the desert, one step then another, small ones at that, the rope allowed little. Jake had left the gate open this time. Not that she thought she could run from him, not with her ankles bound, but she wanted to listen for Christopher—who she prayed was brave enough to keep going forward—and keep an ear out for Akeem, too, hoping to hear him returning.

“Don’t set your heart on it.” Jake grunted. He could see her from the open door, just as she could see him. He was prying up a floorboard. “Your boyfriend is already dead. Either way, whether he spilled where the money is or not. Those boys can be rough.”

She tried to tune out those words, and moved back a little more to put some distance between herself and the dead kidnapper. Then she sat on the ground. If she could untie the rope that bound her feet, she might be able to make a run for it.

“Get up,” he yelled at her when he stuck his head back out. “And come closer.” He pulled back to his work again. He had to turn his back to her to do that, which apparently he didn’t much like. “Better yet, keep talking.”

So he would notice if she moved, she supposed.

She pushed up to standing. “Once you have the money, you better hightail it out of here. Your friends can show up at any time, and if they do, they’ll want a cut. It’ll be two against one.”

She didn’t want him hanging around, looking for Christopher. She wanted him away from the area as fast as possible.

“You just worry about your own troubles,” he called