Free Baby Breakout by Lisa Childs Page A

didn’t need to breathe anymore. She just needed him—needed the passion that warmed her blood and quickened her heart rate. No man had ever affected her like this one.
But those effects hadn’t always been good. He had broken her heart when he’d dumped her before his deployment. It hadn’t mattered that they’d been broken up, though. She’d spent a year worrying about him and yearning for him.
And loving him.
So it was no wonder she had fallen into his arms and his bed almost literally the minute he had returned home. But he hadn’t professed his love then. He had only used her—maybe not for an alibi. But he’d used her all the same.
And broken her heart again.
She lifted her hands between them and pushed against his chest. He had always been muscular, but now his chest was like a concrete wall—hard and immovable. But Erica didn’t have to struggle or scream.
He pulled back, his nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath.
“I didn’t want to do that now,” he said.
Finally she breathed, drawing in a sharp breath as his admission stung her pride.
And her heart.
“I wanted to do that the minute you opened the door to me,” he continued, “even when I thought you had betrayed me and left me to rot in prison.”
“Jed, I didn’t—”
“I realize now that you didn’t betray me three years ago, but you were about to do it now,” he reminded her. “You can’t call the police, Erica.”
“I can’t,” she agreed, “because you took my phone.” But even if he hadn’t, she doubted she would have been able to punch in that last digit. She was almost grateful that he had taken the phone from her.
Who had he called to help him? Who was the lawman he trusted? A guard from the prison? It had sounded like they were all corrupt. Or the DEA agent whose badge he had used to trick her into opening the door for him?
“You have a landline in your apartment,” he said. “So you’re not going inside without me.”
“But if Mrs. Osborn sees you, she will call the police for certain.” Taking the impossible decision out of Erica’s hands but putting custody of her daughter and Erica’s own freedom at risk.
Jed shrugged off her concern. “I doubt she’ll recognize me. I don’t look like the photo they keep showing of me on the news.”
No. He looked even more dangerous than the mug shot taken before his trial. After three years in Blackwoods Penitentiary, he was undoubtedly more dangerous.
“I’m not worried about her calling the police on me.” He narrowed his eyes, which were dark with suspicion as he stared at her.
He was worried about Erica. Even though she had explained why she hadn’t come forward at his trial, he didn’t trust her, and now that he was dead, Marcus Leighton couldn’t confirm that he was the reason she hadn’t provided Jed with an alibi. In addition to that, she had almost reported him to authorities, so she couldn’t blame him for not trusting her.
“I won’t call the police,” she promised. “I’m not sure I believe you completely about that shoot-on-sight order. But I can’t risk it.”
His gaze widened slightly, but then he shook his head. “Somehow I don’t think I’m the one you’re worried about losing.”
She had already lost him twice. First to Afghanistan and then to prison. But then, he had never really been hers to lose.
“I can’t risk Isobel’s safety,” she said as she pushed open the passenger door.
He didn’t stop her this time, and she felt a moment’s flash of disappointment as she stepped onto the snow-covered pavement.
“I can’t risk her getting shot in the crossfire,” she said. “That’s why you need to get into whatever vehicle you brought here—” she gestured at a car and a van parked in the alley “—and drive as far away from us as you can get.”
“You’re right,” he agreed—almost too easily as he slammed shut the driver’s door after joining her in the alley. “I never would have come to you if I hadn’t thought