Virtuality Page 15

  He scooped Jess up in his arms. “We made it … sweetheart. We—”

  Jess stopped moving, except for her shaking, then drew a sharp breath.

  It had slipped out. The word he'd used in his mind a thousand times. The first term of endearment that had ever passed between them, other than friend, buddy, pal or occasional BFFs in a text message.

  With Jess in his arms, Vince stumbled into the darkness of the forest lining the west side of the river.

  Jess had buried her face in his neck. Now his neck seemed wetter than when he was in the river. Maybe that was because, now, he could feel his neck and the wetness was no longer numbing. It was warm.

  Vince set Jess on her feet and wrapped her up in his arms to keep her from falling. Thankfully, his arms were regaining strength by the second.

  Jess leaned against him, her body shaking, partly from shivering, the rest from her sobs.

  Was this relief that they had made it? Or was it his choice of words? He would bet money that it was his words.

  Next question—was she happy or hurting? After the awkward way the day had started, he couldn’t be sure.

  Somewhere between one and two o'clock in the morning, exhausted from the ordeal, Vince couldn’t sort it all out. Maybe Jess would eventually say something and—

  Jess cupped both of his cheeks and pulled his face down to hers.

  For a few sweet seconds, Vince poured the pent-up passion of years of loving this incredible woman into his kiss. But the real wonder was that Jess returned it the same way.

  An almost miraculous escape from gunmen through a deadly river that claimed several lives each year, his first kiss from the only woman he'd ever loved—maybe Vince’s meaningless life of living alone in the shadows was ending. Maybe …

  One thing he was sure of, now that it had warmed up, his taped hand hurt like heck. But that didn’t keep him from using it to pull Jess snugly against him.

  * * *

  After Jess pulled her lips from Vince's, she hid her face against his neck. But that was stupid. He couldn't see her face under the blackness of the forest canopy. She seldom showed her deepest feelings, but she shouldn’t be embarrassed for doing so.

  Jess raised a hand to touch her warm cheek. How could a freezing, hypothermic face become a hot, flushed face in a few seconds? An easy question to answer. She’d finally gotten the kiss Jess had looked forward to, the one she had expected all those years in high school. And the man who made his living using words had finally found a word to describe his feelings toward her, sweetheart.

  Had he always thought about her that way but just hadn’t said it?

  Jess put on the brakes to her analysis of Vince’s words, before it could make her angry and destroy the moment. But she had to do something to break the awkward silence. “I thought we were going to die … one way or another. I didn't want that to happen, Vince, before …”

  Maybe she had said enough. And she had initiated it, so maybe the kiss wasn’t as meaningful as she thought. Still, it was a kiss from Vince, and the passion behind it was undeniable.

  She pulled her head back. Vince’s gaze had grown so intense she could feel it, even in the darkness. Jess couldn’t meet that gaze after exposing her heart more than she’d intended. She couldn't chance being disappointed again. One more time of dying inside from his rejection would be too much. It would be easier to leave and never be sure than to get that final rejection from the only man Jess had ever loved.

  “Jess, I’m so sorry.”

  Big mistake, girl.

  “It's my fault.” Vince put a hand under her chin and tilted her face up toward his.

  She let him raise her chin. Probably another big mistake.

  Vince drew a deep breath. “You and I should never have waited until we were twenty-six, about to be shot, or drowned before …” Vince kissed her, a kiss he initiated.

  They had started over again. Vince had erased years of pain in a few seconds. And for the first time in more than eight years, Jess had no insult ready for him.

  For years, she had turned the pain and frustration that lay just under the surface into words that lashed out at Vince's rejection. Words he seemed to take as a joke most of the time.

  She hadn’t meant the van Gogh digs as a joke. But they were no longer needed.

  Vince pulled his arm from her and slipped out of his shirt.

  “Vince, what are you doing? We're still freezing from the water.”

  “Speak for yourself. I'm much warmer now.”

  “No matter how warm we are, we're not going to take off our—”

  “Jess, how could you think—”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “Vince, would you like to tell me everything that was going through your head a few seconds ago?”

  “Yeah. I mean, no. I mean—guess we did get caught up in the moment.” Vince paused. “But the gunmen will leave if they think we went over the falls. We came so close that they’ll have to consider that possibility. They’ll probably check below the falls.”

  He rolled his wet shirt into a ball and turned toward the river. “So I'm going to give them some evidence.” He threw his shirt into the water.

  Vince was thinking about their safety while she clearly had other things on her mind.

  Vince returned from the water’s edge and poked a finger at the neckline of her tank top. “If you really want to contribute something to the cause …” The teasing tone had returned to his voice.

  Instantly, they were two kids again. And Vince would not get the better of her.

  Jess pulled an arm down inside of her tank top, then her second arm. She slowly lifted the bottom.

  “Jess, you wouldn't—”

  “Wouldn't what? Contribute to the cause? I'll tell you what. If you cut off an ear and contribute it, I’ll keep my clothes on.”

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “That's up to you. But, right now …” She slipped her arms back through the arm holes. “… I think we need to get out of here before they decide to drive over the bridge and check out the forest on this side of the river. But what about your ear—I mean your car?”

  “It's a rental. We leave it. Who knows about these dudes. They might booby-trap it to kill us. They've already hacked my ear once—I mean my car.”

  Jess giggled. How could she find anything humorous when they were in so much danger? The answer to that question stood beside her.

  Vince had never failed to protect her. His size, strength, and his heart had always prevailed, no matter the size of the obstacle or the power of the enemy. She had watched his WSU football games on TV and heard his football nickname. At strong safety, the announcers called him …

  Invincible Vince.

  Jess looked up at him and smiled. It fit. She curled her hand around his right hand. He seemed to be protecting his left hand.

  Vince kissed her forehead, then turned and led her through the forest, upriver, toward the town of Snoqualmie.

  He looked like he was cold. But, if the Snoqualmie River couldn’t freeze him, this warm, summer night surely wouldn’t.

  “We've got two miles of forest to get through and you don't even have a shirt.”

  “I'll be okay. The temperature’s in the upper sixties tonight, and we’ll be moving the whole time.”

  “I—I can keep you warm, Vince.” Why had she said that?

  Through an opening in the forest canopy, the crescent moon lit Vince’s face. The look in his eyes said, now that the ice had been broken, she could keep him warm just by being in eyeshot.

  He cupped her cheek with his left hand, sending a strange sensation across the side of her face.

  “You already are, Jess.” Vince said. “Now, let’s follow the edge of the trees back to Snoqualmie. I saw a twenty-four-hour convenience store when we drove through town. I can probably snag a Seahawks or Mariners T-shirt and call a taxi while you watch for three stooges carrying guns.”

  Vince paused and looked
at her. “Jess, those guys were mafia-type enforcers. Did you really take them out by kicking them when you got away?”

  “Remember what your dad used to say to me when I was just a kid.”

  “You’re avoiding my question.”

  “No, I’m not. He said things that my dad should have said to me, but never did.”

  “You mean like inside of every girl there’s a princess?”

  “Yes. And inside of every princess—waiting for just the right time to get out—there’s a warrior.”

  “So the warrior got out tonight?”

  “I guess so. But the princess waited until there was only one stooge guarding her before she let the warrior out.”

  “Smart princess. Strong warrior. How did you the leave the lone stooge?”

  “With a flat nose. Like you left Jimmy Grant on your front lawn. But, Vince, I never thanked your dad for all he did for me during those growing-up years. Now he’s gone.”

  “You can thank him when you see him … up there. But let’s not do that tonight. And as much as I’d like to focus on other things …” Vince’s gaze locked on a location a little south of her nose. “… let’s concentrate on getting to Snoqualmie and then getting back home. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

  It was nearly 2:00 a.m. when they found a convenience store in Snoqualmie. While Vince paid for his Mariners t-shirt with a twenty from his soggy wallet, Jess watched the main street through the store window.

  Vince slipped his shirt on, but he had barely used his left hand. And it was covered in duct tape like the tape they had carried on their harnesses.

  Something had happened to his hand. Jess had been too preoccupied to notice, and Vince hadn’t mentioned it.

  He came up behind her and laid the taped hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to call a cab, now. Have you seen any sign of them?”

  “No. But the SUV that just passed the store slowed and—Vince, it’s making a U-turn and coming back.”

  “Follow me. Jess.” Vince shot a laser look at the cashier. “We were never here, dude. Got it?”

  Chapter 20

  Jess glanced back before she and Vince slipped out the back door of the convenience store.

  Headlights of the SUV beamed through the glass door in front of the store.

  She closed the door behind them. “They just pulled in.”

  Vince led her at a trot past the delivery area behind the building and into the dark shadows of a grove of fir trees.

  Thirty yards in, Vince stopped.

  She craned her neck, trying to see the rear door. “I can't see the store, but I haven't heard them.”

  Vince took her hand and pulled her close to his side. “We wait here. After they leave, we'll go back in and I'll call.”

  “But what if—”

  “Jess, the guy in the store wants to help us.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “His eyes told me. And he couldn't keep them off you. Do you really think he'd hand you over to those Three Stooges?”

  She didn't reply.

  Somewhere an engine revved. Tires squealed, and the vehicle took off down the street, headed toward the Snoqualmie Falls end of town.

  “They left. Let's go.”

  “How can we be sure they left?”

  “It's 2:30 in the morning. How many vehicles have you seen on the street?”

  “Just one.”

  Vince led her to the store's rear entrance. He tried the door.

  It was locked.

  “The dude locked us out. We can’t go around to the front. They might spot us.”

  “Accept it, Vince. Some days you’re the pigeon and others … well, you’re Choss Master.”

  He looked at her then shook his head. Maybe Vince was out of comebacks. And maybe Jess needed to break her habit of spewing insults at the man she loved.

  The squeak of rubber-soled shoes on a clean floor came from inside the door.

  Vince pushed Jess away from the door, and they flattened against the rear wall of the store.

  Jess reached for his hand, but Vince had clenched his fists.

  A head popped out of the door. The store attendant.

  Jess took a calming breath.

  Vince’s balled fists relaxed.

  “I thought you two might be here. Those three dudes left in a big hurry. One of them pulled a gun. But I've been robbed before, so I could see he had something other than robbery on his mind. I told him you had left and the last time I saw you, you were headed north, keeping a block off Main Street.”

  “Thanks for covering for us,” Vince said. “Can I use your phone?”

  The attendant pointed to a phone on the counter.

  Vince reached for the phone with his left hand. “Doggone it!” He pulled his hand from the phone and cradled it in his right hand.

  “Vince, what’s wrong with your hand? I’ve heard you can fix anything with duct tape but, seriously, a hand?”

  “Uh, I slipped on the rocks.”

  “On Choss Master?”

  “Yeah. It’s just a little abrasion.”

  The picture came into clear focus of Vince on Choss Master and what it would take to produce such a wound. Vince would never cover his hand with duct tape unless he needed it to continue climbing.

  “How did you do that?”

  “Just took the roll of tape that you hung on my harness and wrapped—”

  “No, Vince. How did you get the abrasion?”

  “Thought I’d try a little stemming, but I slid a little.”

  “You slid while stemming, ripped the skin off, and had to cover your hand or you couldn’t—”

  “Something like that.”

  “Let me see your hand.” She reached for it.

  Vince pulled it away, but rotated it, showing her both sides.

  “Real funny, van Gordon. I want to see what’s under that tape.”

  “Can’t let you do that, Jess. Nobody touches that hand until I get to an ER or some other place with nerve block.”

  “If it hurts, I’ll bet it’s getting hot and inflamed. You know what could happen? You could end up in the hospital fighting for your life or lose your hand if you just let the infection run wild. How much skin did you lose? Was it the size of a quarter? A fifty-cent piece?”

  “It was the size of a dollar.”

  “You mean like a silver dollar?”

  “No. A paper dollar.”

  Jess sucked in a sharp breath. She looked over at the store clerk. “I’ve got to dress this, now. Have you got iodine, antibacterial ointment, gauze and bandages—maybe some small scissors too?”

  “I think so. Try the aisle beyond the candy.”

  “Jess, I didn’t agree to let you—”

  “Either you let me, or I’ll knock you out with a kick and do it anyway.”

  “I—I don’t know about this, Jess.”

  “But you do know what could be under that tape, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. A real microbial mishmash.”

  She huffed a sharp sigh. “Precisely. It’s full of pigeon poop.”

  In the first-aid section, Jess found a liquid disinfectant with some iodine in it, a tube of Polysporin, gauze, scissors and tape for bandaging. She grabbed Vince by his earlobe and followed the sign pointing to the restrooms.

  The fact that Vince didn’t try to break her hold on him told her this “little abrasion” was killing him. If she didn’t dress it, it could kill him. No telling when they could safely get to a doctor.

  Vince pointed at the door labeled, men.

  “No way. Men’s restrooms are gross.”

  “And how did you get to be an expert on that subject, Ms. Jamison?”

  Jess didn’t reply, but she opened the women’s restroom door and pulled on Vince’s ear.

  Despite her pulling on his ear, Vince turned to look at the clerk. “Dude, let us know if any suspicious-looking characters show up. You know, guys carrying AK-47s—anything like that.”

 
“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” The clerk pulled a handgun from under the counter, held it up, then tucked it away.

  “Thanks. When this is all over, we’ll have to come back and thank you properly.”

  Jess pulled Vince into the women’s room and pointed at the small, vinyl-covered couch. “Sit and don’t speak.”

  “Sounds like doggie obedience training,” he muttered, then looked up at her. “But no Husky is gonna make a Cougar sit in the doghouse.”

  “All you need to know is that Jess Jamison is going to make Vince van Gordon sit still until she’s done with him. Got that?” She pushed him onto the seat.

  While Vince sat, staring at his taped hand, Jess opened her supplies and lined them up on the edge of a sink. “Now to get that tape off. I’ll take it slow and easy. I promise, Vince.”

  “How about promising me you won’t hold it against me if I smack your head when you pull that tape off?”

  Jess stopped. Her eyes welled. “Vince …” She wiped her eyes. “… you’ve already smacked me on the head twice tonight. I didn’t hold it against you either time.”

  Vince reached out, brushed her lips with his fingers, and nodded.

  It was her go-ahead signal. She pulled on the edge of the tape, then blew out her relief when another layer of tape appeared below. Soon, Jess had peeled off the tape, leaving a single layer covering the abrasion on the palm and heel of Vince’s huge hand.

  After the filthy rocks, swimming the river, and fifteen or sixteen hours of time, the skin at the edges of the wound had turned an angry red. Adjacent to that, there would be raw flesh that looked like hamburger. Ugh.

  “I’ve got to get this tape off now, but …”

  Jess looked into Vince’s eyes and tears rolled down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I can do this to you.”

  Vince curled his good hand around the back of her neck, pulled her toward him, and kissed her forehead. In the next moment, his hand was gone from her neck.

  Jess looked down as Vince ripped the tape from his hand in one quick motion.