Page 88 of Hot Pursuit
Please, she added silently.Please, Dad, please.
But she couldn’t bring herself to beg. Not with her father. The small part of her still holding on to the belief that he was a good man deep down wouldn’t let her. He had to make this decision for himself. Jo’s choice would be the same either way—either her father would confess or she would confess for him, no matter the consequence.
He lifted his palm to her cheek. His hand was warm from the sun, soft the way it always had been, loving. Jo covered his fingers with her own, feeling the wrinkles on his hand she hadn’t noticed before, noticing the silver sheen of his hair, the deep grooves around his eyes. But when she met his gaze, he didn’t look old. He looked lighter. Full of a bright glow nothing could dampen. Freed from a weight that had made the years longer.
“Will you ever forgive me, pumpkin?”
Jo squeezed his hand as a tear spilled from the corner of her eye. “Of course, Daddy.” She couldn’t stop the endearment from slipping out. “I love you.”
He nodded. Jo could see the walls come up, the defenses refortify. He stood from the floor and went back to the captain’s chair, where he sat tall, with dignity, with newfound strength. “Make the call, Jolene.”
Like father, like daughter. Jo wiped the salty droplet from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing the emotions back as she straightened her spine and reached into her purse for her phone, getting back to business. She’d completely forgotten to turn it off airplane mode when she’d landed, too wrapped up in her thoughts, so she did so now, waiting for the signal to connect. As soon as it did, her phone began to buzz with missed calls, voicemails, and messages. Half were from Thad and half from Nate.
Jo clicked on Thad’s first, then put the receiver to her ear. She flinched at every gunshot, holding on to the calmness in his voice as he warned her to run, not an ounce of accusation in the tone, only fear—fear for her, not for himself.
Oh, Thad.
Jo sighed when the line went dead, a heavy weight in her chest. But there was nothing else from him. No messages. No more calls.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He’s Thad. He’s the king of the getaway.
He’s fine.
He’s safe.
Jo wanted to believe it, but deep down, she didn’t. Deep down, there was nothing but a pit of dread, a chasm growing wider and wider by the second.
She didn’t bother to read Nate’s messages. She needed a distraction now, immediately.
“Jo?” His voice sounded rushed.
“Nate.” She breathed the word, so it sounded almost like a sigh of relief. Just hearing his voice made everything seem a little easier to manage. Her father glanced over, frowning at her tone, at the affection she hadn’t bothered to veil.
“Jo! Are you all right? Are you safe? Leo and I are here. We’re in a boat, on our way. I must have just missed you at the airport. I thought I— I thought you— I thought—”
“I’m okay,” Jo soothed. Her gaze darted out the window, to the island only a few hundred yards away. “I’m almost home. My father picked me up. I think, maybe, someone was on the plane watching me, but we got away before he could do anything. We’re fine.”
“Ohthankgod.” It came out in a whoosh, one connected thought. Jo smiled, perfectly able to envision how he must have been sitting, his thumb and pointer finger squeezing the ridge of his nose, all stress and hard lines, until her assurance forced the tension away, finally letting his firm muscles release. “Are you sure the island is safe?”
“I don’t see any foreign vessels,” she said slowly, skimming the shoreline for anything out of the ordinary. Jo glanced to her father. “Dad, has the alarm been disturbed? Were the motion cameras alerted to any activity?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve been checking the system every ten minutes since the moment I left. No one’s been inside the house.”
“Once we get inside, they won’t be able to touch us,” Jo told Nate. The glass was bulletproof. The vault acted as a safe room. Hidden cameras would give her a view of the entire property. Steel bars could be dropped in front of all the entrances at the push of a button. And she could dispense tear gas from the air ducts if she needed to. The island villa wasn’t just a home—it was a fortress, designed for this exact purpose. “You don’t have to worry. And, Nate, I have good news.”
Her father pulled into the slip.
“What?” Nate asked over the line, hesitant.
Jo followed her father out of the cabin and leapt over the edge of the boat, onto the dock, happy to have solid ground beneath her feet, happy to be home safe. She signaled him to keep walking, that she’d take care of the boat. As she tied the rope, phone squished between her shoulder and her ear, she said, “My father agreed to confess.”
“He did?” The shock in Nate’s tone was evident.
“I’ll explain everything when you get here, but I promise, he’s not as bad as you’ve made him out to be. He’ll tell you everything you want to know. He just wants all of this to end. For me to be okay.”
