She’d already apologized, but she had to say it again. “I’m sorry…”
With a shudder, he rose up—pulling away as if she’d rejected him. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “This is crazy. We can’t do this—”
“We shouldn’t,” she said.
For so many reasons. The most pressing was that he couldn’t stay. He was a man on the run who had already brought her nothing but heartbreak and danger.
“But we can,” she continued. It wouldn’t make up to him the three years of his life that he’d lost, but it might help them regain some of the closeness and promise they’d had before he had gone off to Afghanistan and broken off their relationship.
“And I want to.” She grasped his shirt in both fists and tugged him down toward her.
His hands covered hers, and he stared at her, his gaze dark with a breath-stealing intensity. Then he pulled her fingers from his shirt.
At least one of them had the sense to realize this was neither the time nor the place for making love. But still she had to blink back tears of disappointment. Then she was blinking to clear her eyes as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor next to the couch. All rippling, sinewy muscle, he was so damn sexy.
Her breath caught as desire overwhelmed her. She touched him, sliding her fingertips across the hair-dusted silky skin. Then she lifted up to press her lips to his chest. His heart thudded against her mouth.
“Erica…”
He lowered his head and kissed her—deeply. And she kissed him back with all the passion she felt for him. It pulsed low in her body, winding a pressure tight inside her. It filled her ears with the sound of her own blood rushing through her veins.
But a rapid beep, beep, beep broke the grip of desire, clearing her head, so that she heard the broadcast announcement:
“Early this morning the governor has issued a special press release. In order to apprehend the convicts who escaped during the prison riot at Blackwoods Penitentiary in northern Michigan, he has put a bounty on the head of each of the prisoners. These bounties will be paid either to the person who actually apprehends these escapees or to the person who provides information leading to their apprehension.”
His voice quavering with excitement, the reporter stated the amount on each convict. “But the highest bounty will be paid for the apprehension of cop killer Jedidiah Kleyn.”
A pithy curse escaped Jed’s lips with a hiss of breath. “That’s not a bounty,” he murmured. “It’s a death warrant…”
He hadn’t been lying about the shoot-on-sight order. In light of the bounty, he’d probably actually downplayed how much danger he was really in.
“You have to leave,” she urged him as panic gripped her.
Mrs. Osborn might have believed that Jed was Erica’s friend, but that wouldn’t matter if she recognized his photo and thought she could collect that kind of money for reporting his location.
And she would recognize the photo that filled the television screen. It wasn’t his mug shot, with his full head of dark hair and clean-shaven square jaw, that they had previously shown. This was his prison ID that must have finally been retrieved from the ruins that was all that was left of Blackwoods Penitentiary. In this picture, there was more stubble on his jaw than his shaved head. And he looked hard and dangerous—like he did now.
He swore again. Then he grabbed up his shirt from the floor and dragged it over his head. “Erica—”
“Go,” she said, the panic stealing away her breath as it pressed heavily on her lungs. “You have to get out of here before it’s too late.”
But then a noise penetrated the thin window panes of her home. Sirens.
It was already too late.
The authorities were coming for him with orders to shoot on sight.
* * *
“Y OU MANIPULATIVE MONSTER ,” Drake Ketchum shouted through the bars of the Blackwoods County jail.
A smile tugged at Jefferson’s lips. “Are you supposed to be talking to me without
With a shudder, he rose up—pulling away as if she’d rejected him. “No, I’m sorry,” he said. “This is crazy. We can’t do this—”
“We shouldn’t,” she said.
For so many reasons. The most pressing was that he couldn’t stay. He was a man on the run who had already brought her nothing but heartbreak and danger.
“But we can,” she continued. It wouldn’t make up to him the three years of his life that he’d lost, but it might help them regain some of the closeness and promise they’d had before he had gone off to Afghanistan and broken off their relationship.
“And I want to.” She grasped his shirt in both fists and tugged him down toward her.
His hands covered hers, and he stared at her, his gaze dark with a breath-stealing intensity. Then he pulled her fingers from his shirt.
At least one of them had the sense to realize this was neither the time nor the place for making love. But still she had to blink back tears of disappointment. Then she was blinking to clear her eyes as he pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the floor next to the couch. All rippling, sinewy muscle, he was so damn sexy.
Her breath caught as desire overwhelmed her. She touched him, sliding her fingertips across the hair-dusted silky skin. Then she lifted up to press her lips to his chest. His heart thudded against her mouth.
“Erica…”
He lowered his head and kissed her—deeply. And she kissed him back with all the passion she felt for him. It pulsed low in her body, winding a pressure tight inside her. It filled her ears with the sound of her own blood rushing through her veins.
But a rapid beep, beep, beep broke the grip of desire, clearing her head, so that she heard the broadcast announcement:
“Early this morning the governor has issued a special press release. In order to apprehend the convicts who escaped during the prison riot at Blackwoods Penitentiary in northern Michigan, he has put a bounty on the head of each of the prisoners. These bounties will be paid either to the person who actually apprehends these escapees or to the person who provides information leading to their apprehension.”
His voice quavering with excitement, the reporter stated the amount on each convict. “But the highest bounty will be paid for the apprehension of cop killer Jedidiah Kleyn.”
A pithy curse escaped Jed’s lips with a hiss of breath. “That’s not a bounty,” he murmured. “It’s a death warrant…”
He hadn’t been lying about the shoot-on-sight order. In light of the bounty, he’d probably actually downplayed how much danger he was really in.
“You have to leave,” she urged him as panic gripped her.
Mrs. Osborn might have believed that Jed was Erica’s friend, but that wouldn’t matter if she recognized his photo and thought she could collect that kind of money for reporting his location.
And she would recognize the photo that filled the television screen. It wasn’t his mug shot, with his full head of dark hair and clean-shaven square jaw, that they had previously shown. This was his prison ID that must have finally been retrieved from the ruins that was all that was left of Blackwoods Penitentiary. In this picture, there was more stubble on his jaw than his shaved head. And he looked hard and dangerous—like he did now.
He swore again. Then he grabbed up his shirt from the floor and dragged it over his head. “Erica—”
“Go,” she said, the panic stealing away her breath as it pressed heavily on her lungs. “You have to get out of here before it’s too late.”
But then a noise penetrated the thin window panes of her home. Sirens.
It was already too late.
The authorities were coming for him with orders to shoot on sight.
* * *
“Y OU MANIPULATIVE MONSTER ,” Drake Ketchum shouted through the bars of the Blackwoods County jail.
A smile tugged at Jefferson’s lips. “Are you supposed to be talking to me without