Free On The Run by Iris Johansen Page A

I gave Blockman a card with my cell number to give you. If you need me, call.” He strode away from her toward the road.
    She was glad he was gone. That moment had shaken her and she didn’t want to deal with him right now. She had thought she had put him out of her life but evidently that didn’t include physical instincts.
    She could handle it. Maybe their affair had ended too abruptly for there to be closure. Some remaining tendrils of emotion were probably natural in situations like this. Maybe the next time she saw him it would be with no sexual tension at all. She had to remember who he was and what he had done and everything would be back to normal.
    Normal?
    What was normal in this world where sweet guys like Charlie could be killed for no reason?
             
    I like Mr. Kilmer,” Frankie said as she settled down in bed that night. “I mean Jake. He told me to call him Jake. I think he’s cool. But you don’t like him, do you?”
    “I used to like him,” she said noncommittally. “Why do you think he’s cool?”
    “He listens. Most people don’t really listen to kids. But he does.” She yawned. “And I think he’s smart. He doesn’t say much but he sort of— Is he smart, Mom?”
    “Very smart.”
    “And you worked with him when you were a super-duper spy?”
    “I wasn’t a super-duper anything. I just did a job.” She kissed her forehead. “Are you feeling any better, baby?”
    “I don’t know. When I was in the barn, I started crying again.”
    “That’s natural. You think you’re okay and then something happens and you’re crying again.”
    “You too?”
    “Me too. But the important thing is that we did what Charlie would have wanted today. And that we remember him every day with love. And we can do that, can’t we?”
    “Sure.” Frankie reached up to brush Grace’s lashes with a gossamer touch. “They’re wet.” She suddenly buried her head in Grace’s breasts. “It hurts me when you hurt. What can I do?”
    Grace’s throat was tight as she hugged her close. “Love me. And I’ll love you. That’s the cure for almost everything.” She pushed her back down on the pillows. “Now go to sleep.”
    “Everything’s going to be okay, isn’t it?” Frankie whispered. “Nothing bad is going to happen to us again?”
    Grace nodded. “Nothing will happen to you. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”
    “And you,” she insisted.
    “And me.” She tucked the blanket around her. “I have to keep myself safe so that I can keep you safe. It’s a package deal. Good night, baby.”
    “Good night, Mom.”
    Grace turned out the bedside light and turned back the sheet on the other bed. She doubted if she could sleep, but she wanted Frankie to have the comfort of someone in the room if she woke in the night. Her daughter had had enough insecurity and terror in the past few days to last her for a lifetime.
    Frankie was already asleep. She could hear her steady, deep breathing.
    Grace went over to the window and looked down at the parking lot two floors below. What did she expect to see? An elite militia force invading this small town? Perhaps. Marvot could afford an elite force if he could afford that bounty he’d put on their heads.
    But no force he could hire would be as good as Kilmer’s team.
    Her hand clenched on the drape. Her lack of shock at that thought demonstrated that it hadn’t come too far out of left field. No matter how she wanted to push his offer of help away, it kept returning. Kilmer was qualified to help Frankie on a scale that no one else could come near. If Grace went off on her own, it would mean being on the run and a million times more vulnerable. She’d scoped dozens of possible bolt-holes, but none of them was as safe as being under Kilmer’s wing.
    Frankie was murmuring in her sleep. Dreaming?
    And would that dream become a nightmare? Grace had promised her she would be safe. Did she have the right to turn down Kilmer when he could guarantee