Melinda Di Lorenzo

Last Chance Hero


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and in moments, she found a stiff piece of plastic. When she closed her fingers on it, it sprung up with surprising ease. And as she nudged the seat with her shoulder, it folded forward. For a second, Jordynn was surprised into stillness.

      Her brain caught up first.

      You did it! Now go, go, go, it urged.

      And her body was quick to listen.

      She wriggled over the flattened seat, careful to keep low and out of sight. It wasn’t exactly easy to be subtle with both her ankles and her wrists tied together. When her hips got stuck in the narrow opening, it took every bit of core strength she had to pull herself through. Her lungs burned with the exertion, and she was as sweaty as she got running her mile-a-day workout. But her hard work paid off. In under three minutes, she made it through to the back. Another thirty seconds—and a fight with the center console—put her in the driver’s seat. The keys jangled in the ignition. Waiting.

      What now?

      A glance out the window told her she didn’t have long to decide.

      Dono’s familiar form had appeared at the end of the alleyway. And Denny was already slithering along the fence toward him.

      * * *

      The woman he loved, in easy reach.

      The woman he loved, trapped in the trunk of a car.

      No one in sight and the car in question running for too many minutes.

      Logically, Donovan knew it was a trap.

      But logic has nothing to do with it, he thought. And besides that...I’ve waited long enough.

      He slowly stalked toward the sedan, his eyes on the prize, but stopped short when a flash of red in the front seat caught his attention. He stared for a long second. There it was again.

      “Holy hell,” he murmured. “She got out.”

      Impressed and encouraged, he took another step forward. It was that one extra stride that saved him as a silenced bullet flew through the air. Instead of hitting him, it dug itself deep into the ground near his foot.

      His eyes flew up in surprise.

      There.

      A man in the shadows and a flash of silver. And the click of a gun cocking.

      Donovan dived, and this time the shot went wide, lodging in the fence beside him.

      He threw himself forward, aiming his full body weight at the shooter, who clearly wasn’t expecting an attack. The other man edged away clumsily, and a fist came flying toward Donovan’s gut. The punch was a wild one, though, and it just grazed his T-shirt.

      Donovan stumbled, sending up a cloud of dust from the gravel beneath his feet. Even though he recovered quickly, the gray dirt was already in his eyes and mouth, blinding him and making him cough. A second punch came quickly, and the blur of movement was Donovan’s only warning. And this time, he wasn’t quite fast enough. Thick knuckles landed on his shoulder. He spun to the side, then dodged as the attacker jumped forward again. He scrambled backward, cursing as he dug the dust from his eyes. He cleared it just in time to see that the other man was headed toward him once again—and he was surprisingly quick for a big man. He flew at Donovan, fists coming in rapid succession. The action forced Donovan to take on a defensive stance, blocking blow after blow with his elbows and forearms.

      Finally, desperate to change the exhausting rhythm, he dropped his arms and let the big man land a hit to his chest. The move had the desired effect. His assailant was surprised into letting the pattern drop, and the extra heartbeat of time was all Donovan needed to gain some control.

      He stepped back, then lifted his foot in a sharp jab. His boot landed on the other man’s shin and sent him down to one knee. Donovan followed the initial kick with a second one, this time to the stomach. He started to issue a third, but the man beneath him reached up a meaty fist, gripped his ankle, then twisted it and brought him to the ground.

      Donovan landed with a grunt, then rolled out of the way as the other man pushed to his feet and stalked toward him. As he moved, the sound of tires on gravel filled his ears.

      He lifted his head and saw the sedan inching down the alley.

      Jordynn.

      Relief filled him as he realized she’d decided to get the car going and stood an excellent chance of escape.

      As the car sped up, he turned his attention back to saving his own rear end. Though the other man had paused for a second to observe the car’s movement, too, he’d already turned his attention back to Donovan.

      “Looks like your girlfriend’s leaving without you,” he said with a smirk.

      “Suits me just fine.”

      His attacker lunged. Donovan sidestepped. He crouched and readied his fists.

      The vehicle had passed them now, and was almost at the end of the alley.

      Thank God.

      But then it came to a full stop.

      What the hell?

      The car kicked into Reverse and tore backward instead. It came in wildly, picking up speed, its back end bumping and turning with the acceleration.

      “Guess she changed her mind,” the other man said, then lunged again, seeking to take advantage of Donovan’s temporary stillness.

      It was a mistake. At the exact moment that he moved, the car’s random path took on a purpose. It angled toward the big man. Then kept going, straight and steady. It slammed into him, knocking him aside with a thud.

      Donovan stared at the man’s crumpled form for a moment, then brought his gaze up. From the driver’s seat Jordynn stared back at him, her face a mask of pale, pale shock. Like she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. Then she blinked, and her mouth moved.

      Get in, she was saying.

      It only took him a second to comply. He darted to the other side of the car, flipped open the door and jumped in.

      “Thank you,” he said.

      Jordynn licked her lips nervously. “Did I kill him?”

      “No, honey.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “He was twitching just fine.”

      “Okay.” She turned her attention out the front windshield.

      “We should go,” Donovan said gently. “Before the rest of them figure out what’s going on.”

      “I know.”

      She didn’t move, and he tried again. “If you want me to drive—”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Are you sure?”

      “Yes.”

      “Jordynn...”

      She exhaled. “Let’s just...not talk right this second.”

      She took her bound hands and slipped the car from Reverse into Drive, then placed them on top of the steering wheel.

      He obeyed her need for silence, but Donovan could only stare at her delicate wrists for a moment before taking action. He fumbled through the untidy stack of objects in the center console until he found a box cutter. He promptly snapped it up and flicked it to the narrow wire that held Jordynn. She didn’t quite flinch as his fingers dug between her wrists and worked in a sawing motion to set her free.

      “Thank you,” she said softly.

      Donovan issued a short nod, then leaned away again as she guided the car to the end of the alley, this time slowly, then into the street. He fought the urge to ask again if she was all right.

      Dumb question. No matter what she says about being fine, it doesn’t make it true.

      She