Page 21 of Liam James
I twisted around. “Sweetheart—”
“I saw him,” she said suddenly.
My heart stopped. “What?”
“At the carnival.” Her voice cracked. “I thought maybe I was wrong, but… I saw him by the rides. He was looking right at me. I knew it was him.”
I reached for her hand, my stomach dropping into my shoes.
Why hadn’t she said something last night?
Because she was thirteen years old and terrified. That’s why.
Liam
I didn’t push her for details. Not yet.
She was pale, shaking, her eyes darting to the windows like she expected him to step out of the tree line.
But my brain was already moving three steps ahead—new routes, new places to hide, ways to stay off his radar until we knew more. Did he see the change of vehicles? Of course he did.
“We’re heading west,” I said finally. “Off the interstate. Smaller roads.”
Jenny looked at me sharply. “Will that be enough?”
“It’ll have to be.”
Because until Forest and Fraiser cornered Jarod Kennedy, the only job I had was keeping these two alive.
Jenny
Poppy finally fell asleep, but it was the restless kind, the kind where her head jerked like she was running in her dreams.
I sat in the passenger seat, hands clenched in my lap, watching the miles roll under the tires while Liam drove in silence, his jaw tight, his eyes scanning every car behind us.
He didn’t have to say it out loud.
We both knew it.
My brother was coming.
And Poppy was the one person on earth whom he wanted dead, even though he was her father.
16
Forest
Fraiser slammed his phone shut, his jaw tight. “Got him.”
I looked up from the map spread across the truck's hood. “Where?”
“Traffic camera two towns over. Truck matched the plates we pulled from the cabin wall.”
I leaned in, scanning the grainy photo on his laptop. Jarod Kennedy, driving as calm as Sunday morning, like he didn’t have half the law in three counties crawling over his trail.
“He’s headed west,” Fraiser said grimly. “Toward Liam.”
Of course, he was.
