of clawing at Rod’s unyielding arm, Clyde slumped to the side, slack-jawed.
Callie slid her legs from beneath his inert body. As she staggered to her feet, the driver of the Cadillac hooked an arm around her waist. He dragged her toward the open door of the car, lifting her off her feet. She drummed her heels against his shins and dug her fingernails into his arm.
Rod delivered a final blow to the prostrate lump on the ground and then charged the man holding Callie. He slammed his fist into the man’s face, which spurted blood.
“Damn you, stay out of this.” Her abductor released her and barreled into Rod, who welcomed his advance with a kick to the midsection.
As the driver doubled over, Rod grabbed Callie’s hand and they sprinted to his truck. Ever the gentleman, even in a time of crisis, Rod opened her door and lifted her onto the seat. He slid into the driver’s seat and turned the ignition.
He pulled away from the curb, and a sharp crack propelled Callie about two feet off the seat. “What the hell was that?”
“Your scorned groom took a shot at us.”
“That’s not my groom. He sent his cohorts to do his dirty work.” Clutching her belly, she peered into the side mirror. “Are they following us?”
“Not yet, but let’s make it hard for them.” Rod skidded around the corner, and then another, before careening down an alleyway. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Who are you calling?”
“The police.”
She grabbed his arm. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not? Two men tried to kidnap you. Even ditching a wedding doesn’t justify that.”
“It’s not that simple, Rod.” She covered her face with her hands, massaging her temples with her fingertips. He had to know she’d given him only the barest of details. The way he’d studied her with his guarded green eyes told her that much. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her. Peeking at his bulging bicep through her fingers, she decided she’d chosen the wrong analogy.
Rod slammed on the brakes, and she lurched forward, straining against her seat belt.
“What are you doing?” She glanced at his profile, as rock-hard as his bicep, as he clenched the steering wheel with hands still bloody from the fight.
“You tell me what’s not so simple, Callie. I want to know everything. Right now.”
Licking her lips, she craned her neck around to look out the back window. “I’ll explain everything, but can we get out of Truth or Consequences first?”
He peeled away from the curb and headed for the on-ramp for I-25…south. She swallowed. “Y-you’re not taking me back, are you?”
He snorted. “Why would I want to deliver you into the hands of your irate groom and deprive myself the pleasure of strangling you myself?”
He jabbed a button on the console and classical music filled the truck as he dragged in a deep breath.
“You’re kidding…aren’t you?”
He snorted again, but he’d loosened his grip on the steering wheel and the harsh lines at the sides of his mouth disappeared.
The desert landscape whizzed by, and the cacti hunched like little alien creatures with their arms raised to the sky, begging to return home. She could relate—not that L.A. held any charm for her anymore, except for her foster child Jesse, but she wanted to get back to her makeshift studio. She had the perfect subject for her next sculpture. Her gaze slid to the silent man beside her, his thumbs tapping in time to the music from the CD.
Could she tell Rod everything? When she had his face beneath her hands, she knew he’d accept nothing less than the truth. When he’d rescued her from those three morons on the side of the road, she knew a woman could depend on him. And yet… The man had his own demons to slay. Years of photographing and sculpting faces had taught her a thing or two about reading people.
Yeah, like you did such a good job reading Bobby Jingo.
She’d been watching the highway since they left Truth or Consequences. When a pair of headlights came up behind, Rod would slow down until the car passed them. No white Cadillac so far. Had Bobby’s men continued north? She shivered and clutched her bare arms.
“Are you cold?” Rod turned down the music and flipped off the air conditioning.
“No.” If Bobby had tracked her down, what had he done to her father? She gripped her hands in her lap. She’d better find out. “Can I borrow your cell phone to call my father?”
“If your father was at the wedding, do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Even if Bobby’s monitoring Dad’s calls, what’s he going to do with your cell phone number?”
“Harass me.”
She held out her hand. “You’re a big boy. You just single-handedly disposed of two of Bobby’s goons. What’s a little harassment?”
Rod plucked his phone out of his shirt pocket and dropped it into her open palm. “Be careful. Don’t tell him anything.”
Nodding, she punched in her father’s cell phone number. Dad picked up after the first ring.
“Dad, it’s me.”
He coughed. “What are you up to, Slim?”
He’d never called her Slim before. Didn’t much bother with nicknames. “Is Bobby there?”
“Yep. I bet on that pony once. Why’d you bet on him? Why’d you do it?”
“I’m sorry, Dad. I—I overheard a conversation.” She sent a sidelong glance toward Rod. “After that, I couldn’t go through with it.”
“That pony put me in a tight spot.”
She clenched her jaw. “Are you okay? Has he hurt you?”
“Not yet. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t. What are you going to do now?”
“I’m not sure, but I’ll get you out of this. I promise.”
Her father grunted, and then Bobby’s rough voice assaulted her over the line. “Where are you, bitch? I guess you found out that dear old Dad didn’t screw me over in a business deal. What else did you discover? My men told me you’re with some cowboy who rushed you off in his truck.”
“Did they also tell you that cowboy kicked their asses before we rushed off in his truck?”
Rod jerked his head around. “Is that him?”
Bobby cursed. “Nobody can protect you and nobody can protect your father. He owes me over a hundred grand for a gambling debt, and he’s going to pay. Then you’re going to—”
Rod snatched the phone from her hand. “Listen, you sonofabitch, the next time you send a couple of jokers after Callie, I’ll send them back to you with more than a few cuts and bruises. I’ll send them back to you in matching body bags.”
He snapped the phone shut and tossed it into the cup holder. Callie laughed. She grabbed the phone, powered down her window, and tossed it out.
Rod jerked his head around. “Why’d you do that?”
“Bobby might be able to trace your phone and track us down.” She brushed her hands together as if ridding herself of a pesky bug.
In the few months she’d known Bobby Jingo, she never heard anyone talk to him like that before. It gave her confidence that she could handle the man. Rod gave her confidence.
“Is your father okay?”
“For now. Where are we going?”
“Here.” He took the next exit toward