“SO, TELL ME about your childhood,” Norah said as they ate dinner that night.
“What about it?”
“Everything. I’ve told you my story, depressing as it is. I want to know about yours.”
“There really isn’t much to tell. I’m an only child. My dad was a cop, mom was an English teacher, she’s retired now. I played hockey growing up, wanted to make a career out of it for a while. When I was seventeen my dad was killed, I already told you about that, and that’s when I decided I wanted to be a cop.”
“Did you have any animals growing up?”
Harley smiled softly. “We had a black lab named Layla; she was the best damn dog ever.”
“I always wanted a dog. When I get married someday, I want a dog. That is if we survive this, I suppose.” She laughed darkly and turned back to the goulash she had thrown together with ingredients Gerry had brought them.
“You’re going to survive, Norah. You’re going to fall in love one day and you will get married.”
“Do you want to get married one day?” she asked him, suddenly curious.
“I like to think I will one day, I suppose. But I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do once all of this is over. The agency was my life. I worked crazy long hours, and other than professional hockey player, I never wanted to be anything other than a cop. That’s out the window permanently, especially now.”
“Surely once you bring down Clayton’s organization and Tom’s corrupt ass, they will bring you back on the force.” She was more than slightly irritated for him. Why wouldn’t they? He was risking his life to take down a murdering son of a bitch, didn’t that stand for anything?
“Unlikely. I almost killed a man, Norah.”
“A man who was beating your mother.”
“They won’t see it like that.”
“Then they are idiots.”
Harley laughed and ran his hand over his lengthening beard. “No argument here.” He studied her as she pushed her food around on her plate. “You want any kids?”
His heart jumped when she smiled. Harley had seen her smile before a few times, but never like this. Her entire face lit up as if a light bulb had been turned on inside of her soul.
“Absolutely. Clayton had told me that it was an unnecessary expense when we could use our money to help other people. I had agreed with him even though it broke my heart. But now, I’m going to have five.”
Harley choked on his beer. “Five?”
“Maybe not that many, but I absolutely want kids one day. I want to be a good mom—I hope I’ll be a good mom. I didn’t have much of an example.”
“You’ll be a great mom, Norah.”
She beamed at him and he stood to clear the plates. “I’ve got dish duty tonight. Thanks for dinner.”
“I’m going to go and take a shower. Sure you don’t want help?”
He wanted to ask her if she wanted help, but managed to resist. “Nah, I’ve got this. Go get your shower.”
“Thanks.” She turned and headed for the bathroom.
Harley heard the shower come on and all he could think about was Norah’s naked body, wet and soapy under the spray. It was rather distracting, and he broke a damn glass.
He bent over to grab the pieces and heard his beer bottle shatter.
“What the hell?” It took him two seconds to long to realize he was being shot at. “Fuck!” he yelled, and crawled for the bathroom.
Finally, out of sight from the open window in the kitchen, Harley stood, and, drawing his gun, ran the last two steps into the bathroom.
“Harley, what is it?” Norah’s face was pale as she stared back at him when he thrust the door open and threw a towel at her.
“They found us. We have to go, now.”
What color had remained now drained from her face, and she nodded.
“We are going to have to sneak out through the cellar,” he whispered, and pulled her towards the door. He peeked out and verified no one was in the house yet, but he could hear them moving to the front door.
Harley pulled her into the bedroom, locked the door, and pulled the closet open. He pushed the clothes aside and pushed the release for the hidden passage and led the way down.
Just as the door was secured behind them, gunshots sounded again.
* * *
NORAH CLUTCHED HARLEY’S hand. Darkness surrounded her as they descended the stairs down into the cellar, but he pulled her through it as if he were a seasoned guide.
He stopped, and she could hear him moving around in a bag. She heard the click of a flashlight and the darkness was partially beat back by a strong beam of light.
“We can use this until we get out of the passage,” he whispered.
Had she not been terrified, she might have wanted to explore the surprisingly large cellar. Instead, she followed Harley over to a wall that held shelves sporting various drinks and other canned goods.
He reached underneath one of the shelves and she heard the click of a latch releasing.
The door swung open and Norah bit back another dose of fear. She hated small spaces—was terrified of them, actually—and this was a damn tunnel. A dark, dirty tunnel.
“Let’s get some distance. It’s only a matter of time before they realize where we’ve gone.”
She nodded and clutched at the towel she wore, shivering.
“Here.” Harley pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “I’m so sorry, Norah.”
“It’s no-no-not yourrr fault,” she said, her teeth chattering from both the fear and the cold.
“Yes, it is. Once we’re safe, we will get you some clothes.”
Norah nodded, and after taking a deep breath, she once again followed him into the dark.
11
They walked for what Harley knew had been an hour before they came to the exit. He thought he had everything planned out. Believed that the cottage would have been untraceable. It should have been. Fuck, he needed to call Gerry, he needed to know not to show up, and it was probably better if the man got out of town for a while.
Harley reached up and pushed the door open to peek outside. He pulled himself up, and then reached down for Norah. “Coast is clear.” She reached for his hands and he pulled her up and into his arms.
He could see that she was exhausted and cold. He was freezing himself, and he hadn’t gotten out of the shower only to be immediately thrust into damn near freezing weather in nothing but a damn towel. Shit, she didn’t even have shoes on.
He carried her to the truck stop that was just in sight and pulled her into their outdoor bathroom.
“Fuck, Norah.” He sighed when he saw her feet. Dirty and bleeding, she hadn’t complained once, and he had been so focused on getting out he hadn’t thought about anything else.
“It’s no-no-not th-tha-that baddd,” she stammered. “Y-y-you don’t e-even h-h-have a sh-shirt on.”
“I'm fine.” He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her back, trying desperately to help her get warm, and pulled out the burner phone Gerry had given him.
“Hello?” He heard the old man’s tired voice over the other line and felt a wave of relief.