I never did say why I was going to Miami. She assumed I was going to hook up with someone, and I never rectified that. But I don’t state the obvious.

  “Jessica’s in trouble. Six years ago, she testified against a member of the Russian Mafia who had committed some brutal murders down in Miami. His name is Ivan Borovsky, and I found out about an hour ago that he’s escaped from prison in New York.”

  “Via the app I created to track criminals we want to keep an eye on,” Bebe says with a satisfied smile.

  I manage a smile back. It’s her genius that’s given me the jump on Ivan. “He’s going after Jessica.”

  “That’s a bit of a leap, isn’t it?” Griff asks, seeking a better explanation. “I mean… I’d assume this guy would run. It seems dangerous to try to exact revenge against a witness.”

  “She’s not just a witness,” I admit with a fair amount of bitterness in my voice. “She was involved with him at the time. It wasn’t serious on her end, but he was sort of obsessed with her. When she went to the police with evidence—which was really what they needed to put the nail in his coffin—he took it as a serious betrayal. Trust me when I say… he’s going to kill her.”

  Griff and Cruce exchange a dubious glance, and I get that this is all conjecture. But Bebe doesn’t second-guess me at all. Stepping forward, she takes my hands in hers. “Then get your ass down there and get her to safety. I’ve got your back. I assume you’ll beat Borovsky there.”

  I nod gratefully. “I should be able to get to her before he does, but I am worried members of Borovsky’s family might try to take her for his use later. I can’t waste any time.”

  “Then we need to go,” Bebe says, stepping away and motioning toward the door. “Griff and I will drive you to the airport.”

  I should bolt, but instead, I pull my friend in for a hard hug. “Thank you.”

  “Always,” she replies.

  ♦

  It’s tense on the way to the airport. Griff drives and Bebe sits behind him, leaving me in the front passenger seat. I feel like we catch every damn red light until we make it to the interstate, and then I relax a little as Griff pushes the limits of speed set in place by the great state of Pennsylvania.

  “So dish,” Bebe says from the back.

  I’m startled by the break in the silence and glance over my shoulder at her. “What?”

  “Dish about Jessica,” she says, folding her arms over her chest. “And tell me why I’ve never heard of this woman, why you’ve let me believe you had a sugar mama in Florida for all your trips down there, and be honest… is she a better friend to you than I am?”

  The tinge of jealousy I detect in those last words breaks through my irritation. I glance back at her again. “Jessica is complicated, but you are my best friend, Bebe.”

  “Aha!” she exclaims, leaning forward and jabbing a finger my way. “She’s more than a friend. She’s a secret lover. No, that’s not right. You two love each other, but something is keeping you apart. No, that can’t—”

  “Bebe,” I say in a low rumble. “Slow your roll, and I’ll tell you about her.”

  Griff snorts, but Bebe settles back into the seat, prepared to listen.

  “Jessica and I met at the University of Miami. We became really close friends, along with another guy named Chase. The three of us did everything together.”

  “Oh God,” Bebe moans, shaking her head. “It’s a love triangle, isn’t it?”

  “No,” I censure. “Now be quiet and listen, because the minute Griff pulls up to the private terminal, I’m out of here, and you get no more.”

  She makes a motion as if zipping her lips and once again crosses her arms over her chest, as if to prevent any animation provoked by surprise.

  “Jessica and Chase ended up dating and got serious, but it was still the three of us all the time. After college, things obviously changed. I went off to Hamburg for my master’s, Jessica stayed in Miami and started a master’s program—she’s an artist—and Chase joined the Air Force.”

  “What did you go to Hamburg for?” Griff asks, interrupting.

  I grace him with an answer, since this is the love of Bebe’s life and I know she wants us to be tight. He’s still learning about me.

  “I was pursuing a master of science with a focus on intelligent adaptive systems.”

  Bebe snorts. “Because two bachelor’s degrees—one in mathematics and one in computer sciences—weren’t enough.”

  “Yes, we all know I’m fucking smart,” I reply dryly before returning to my story. “At any rate, we were all apart physically, but we kept in close contact. Jessica and Chase continued to see each other when he could get leave. He was stationed in California after basic training.”

  “Jessica didn’t go there to be with him?” Bebe asks.

  “He didn’t ask her to,” I reply, remembering precisely how shocked I was that he didn’t beg her to go.

  I don’t want to be pinned down, he’d told me in confidence, although he didn’t have the guts to tell Jessica that.

  But I knew that it wasn’t serious enough for the long run.

  I shake my head. “Jessica was concentrating on school, and Chase was training. It wasn’t a good time. However, they saw each other when they could, and on one of those visits, Jessica got pregnant.”

  “With your goddaughter,” Bebe murmurs.

  “Thea,” I reply, a smile coming unbidden to my face as it does one hundred percent of the time when I think about her. I blink, noting the exit sign ahead for the airport. “There was loose talk of marriage. It was assumed after he finished basic training, or when she finished her master’s, but—”

  “He didn’t propose to her?” Bebe asks, aghast.

  “No, he didn’t.” Fool and asshole that he was. “I think Jessica wanted that, but it never came. She was still in school in Miami, and Chase was in California throughout the pregnancy. He flew in for the birth and was head over heels in love with his daughter. I thought that might be the push he needed to become a family man.”

  “But?” Bebe prods.

  “But,” I continue, the words sour on my tongue, “Chase returned to California with no proposal, no further talk of marriage, and then three weeks later, he was killed in a motorcycle accident.”

  “Oh my God,” Bebe exclaims, clapping her hand over her mouth.

  “So our group of three stayed three, but Chase was gone and Thea was there in his place.”

  “And you go down to Miami to spend time with them,” Bebe concludes.

  “It’s why I took the job with Jameson,” I explain, and she blinks in surprise.

  She frowns. “I thought it was money.”

  Laughing, I admit, “The money was a good inducement. Scientists aren’t paid shit, but I wanted to be back on the East Coast to be closer to Jessica and Thea.”

  Christ, Kynan’s offer was good timing. I’d been working for NASA at the Ames Research Center in Mountain View, California, one of ten NASA facilities. Ames concentrated its research and development in the fields of advanced supercomputing, human factors, and intelligent systems, what is often called artificial intelligence. I was recruited straight from my computer science PhD program at Stanford, where I worked mainly in their world-renowned AI lab.

  I was doing important work, developing intelligent software to assist in several NASA Mission Directorates, including general aeronautics, the International Space Station, and Crewed Exploration Vehicles.

  Kynan offered me triple what NASA was paying. His goal was to pair my brain with Bebe’s ingenuity to create our own technologies to push Jameson to become a world leader in security.

  He definitely accomplished that mission, and I’ve never been happier in my work. It’s a bonus that it’s just a three-hour flight to Miami to see Jessica and Thea.

  “There’s something else you’re not telling me,” Bebe says, and I’m pulled out of my memories.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jessica’s not just a friend,” she asserts with a sharp nod.

  I could lie to Bebe, but she’d see through it. Besides, I’m not ashamed of my feelings. I just don’t speak about them because what’s the point?

  Griff enters the airport terminal, and I twist my neck to look back at Bebe. “She’s a friend, but… she’s always been the one for me. I’ve only ever loved her from afar, because I’m not it for her.”

  Bebe’s eyebrows draw close. “What makes you think that?”

  I shrug. “It’s just been friendship. That’s all it’s ever been.”

  “Have you tried to make it more?” she demands.

  Griff pulls into the parking lot for the private hangar where the Jameson plane waits.

  “No,” I say, admonishment in my tone. “I don’t want to ruin the friendship.”

  “Oh dear Lord,” Bebe grumbles as she glares at me. “You are an idiot.”

  “It’s not like that, Bebe,” I snap as Griff stops in front of the glass doors.

  “It’s not like that because you haven’t tried to make it like that,” she counters.

  “Whatever,” I say and open the passenger door. Bebe scrambles from the back, and Griff stays behind the wheel, but he lowers the window so he can see us.

  Bebe gives me a hug, and Griff wishes me luck.

  I grab my gear and head toward the door.

  “Dozer,” Bebe calls just as I reach it. “You should tell her how you feel. If anything, this should tell you that there are no guarantees for tomorrow.”

  I don’t acknowledge her advice one way or the other, but merely give her a smile before entering the hangar.

  Tell Jessica how I really feel?

  Ridiculous.

  CHAPTER 3

  Jessica

  It was a pleasant dream. One of those I didn’t want to wake from, but I can’t remember the specifics. There was a man involved—I couldn’t see his face—but we were walking on a beach together, and it just felt right.

  Peaceful.

  I struggle to hold on to that feeling, but a loud banging at my front door causes me to slowly open my eyes. It’s not daylight yet, but the bluish-gray light filtering in through my blinds tells me dawn is near.

  Rolling over, I glance at the digital clock on my bedside table. The red numbers seem to angrily proclaim it’s a little after six a.m. and no one should be banging on anyone’s door at this hour.

  Unless it’s an emergency.

  I fly out of bed, almost falling on my face because the sheet is tangled around one leg. I kick it free, lurch for the door, and careen off the wood casing, jamming my shoulder hard.

  “Fuck,” I snarl as I scramble down the short hallway, through the living room, and almost slam my face up against the peephole to see who’s out there.

  Relief at not seeing a police uniform courses through me.

  Then confusion.

  Because on the other side of the door stands Dozer, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why he’d show up unplanned, this early in the morning.

  Not that he’s not welcome.

  He’s always welcome.

  I unlock the door and quickly swing it open. Before I can even ask what he’s doing here, he’s pushing me backward and following me in. As he shuts the door, I start to turn on a lamp, but he utters a harsh, “Keep the lights off.”

  “What in the hell, Doze?” I say, my first words punching out past the shock of him being here.

  He turns to me after locking the door, and even though the light is dim, his eyes rake over me. My normal sleep attire in the Miami heat is usually a set of satin shorts and a camisole top. I’m even rocking a matching silk scarf over my hair. I’m only slightly self-conscious because Dozer is Dozer, and he doesn’t think of me as more than a friend, so he doesn’t care what I look like.

  Although a girl can hope, and now I wish I didn’t have my head wrap on. I finger it nervously.

  “You need to wake Thea, and both of you get dressed. Pack a quick bag of essentials, and then we’re leaving.”

  “What—”

  “Ivan Borovsky has escaped from prison. We have to go.” Dozer moves past me toward the hallway. “I’ll get Thea up, you start packing.”

  I scramble after Dozer. “Wait. Slow down a minute and explain what’s going on.”

  “I’ll explain everything in the car,” Dozer replies, which irritates me. I don’t like to be handled by anyone, much less Dozer.

  I flip on the hall light just as he reaches Thea’s door. “She’s not here. She stayed with my mom last night.”

  Dozer halts and turns to me, understanding dawning on his face. “Gigi night.”

  I nod with a smile. “Gigi night.”

  For as long as I’ve had Thea, she’s stayed almost every Saturday night with my mom, or rather, her Gigi. They give each other manicures and watch movies and eat an awful lot of junk food, but Thea loves it so much, and she’s building the best memories.

  Dozer doesn’t chastise me for turning on the hall light, and I don’t chastise him for taking another long look at me. We’re friends. I think that’s all we’ll ever be, but I’ve always wished differently.

  But I will accept what he gives and be grateful for it, because this man has been there for me for every major event in my life since we were eighteen and starting college. I can count on him for anything, and he loves Thea as if she were his own.

  Dozer’s eyes come to mine. “We need to call your mom. I was going to swing by and get her, but to save time, she should meet us at the hotel I’ve booked. Get dressed and packed. I’ll call your mom.”

  “Dozer!” I exclaim, feeling panicked. I’ve never seen him so focused on something, and the iron set to his jaw tells me he’s deeply troubled. “Just please take a minute and explain things to me. Then I’ll get hoppin’.”

  With a heaving sigh, he runs his hand over his bald head, eyes downcast for a moment as if to collect his thoughts. When they come up to meet mine, they’re no less troubled than when he was standing on my doorstep.

  “You said Borovsky’s escaped?” I prompt. “How? When?”

  “I don’t know the how of it, but it was reported roughly seven hours ago.”

  I consider the timing, mostly focusing on the fact that Dozer had to jump through some fast hoops to get here so quickly from Pittsburgh. “And you think he’s coming here for me?”

  “I know he is,” Dozer says irritably. “And you know he is too. Christ, JJ… he was obsessed with you. You going to the police was the biggest betrayal. He even tried to take a hit out on you while he was in prison.”

  I wave a hand dismissively. “All bluster. He got shut down, and he’s been very quiet for the last five years.”

  This seems to infuriate Dozer—which is an emotion I’ve only ever seen once on his face, and it was directed at Chase, not me, thankfully. In one stride, he’s standing before me and I have to tip my head back to look at him. His dark eyes are clouded with something I might name as fear. “That man threatened you in open court when he was found guilty. Said he’d hunt you down and gut you. Now, you might not think it’s a big deal, but are you willing to put Thea’s life at risk if I’m right and you’re wrong?”

  My blood runs cold at the thought. “You really think he’s coming?”

  Dozer nods. “Chances are high. All we have to do is get you to safety and hide out until he can be captured.”

  “But where?” I ask.

  “For now, we’re going to a hotel, but we can’t waste any more time, JJ.” Dozer’s one of the only people who calls me that. Jessica Jayne Anderson is my full name. Casual acquaintances call me Jessica, many of my friends Jess, but the only two people in the world who call me JJ are my mom and Dozer, and it’s used with either affection or irritation.

  “How much do I need to pack?” I ask.

  “At least a week’s worth,” he says and moves to my daughter’s room. “I’ll call your mom while I grab Thea’s stuff, and then we need to go.”

  “Okay,” I say, his urgency increasing my panic. I’m glad Dozer’s calling my mom—she’ll listen to him with no questions asked. She thinks the sun rises and sets on him and will move a lot faster than I did, merely because it’s Dozer telling her.

  I hurry into my room, feeling lost. Could Ivan really be coming after me?

  It’s so weird to think about him after all these years. I’d dismissed his importance in my life after he was convicted, and I moved on. Of course, he wasn’t Ivan Borovsky to me back then. He was a sham who went by the name Alex Smith. Had me believing he was a legitimate businessman when he was really a higher-up in a Russian criminal syndicate based here in Miami.

  He’s also a murderer.

  I shudder, thinking about how easily I could have died when I learned the truth about him. A wave of revulsion and self-disgust washes through me when I remember that I’d been intimate with that man.

  “If you have any cold-weather gear, pack that as well,” Dozer calls out from Thea’s room. It startles me into action, and I move for the dresser.

  “Are we going north?” I call back.

  “Maybe,” is all he says, and I know we don’t need to waste time or energy on these details right now. Dozer is the smartest man I know. Far smarter than most on this earth. He knows Borovsky escaped mere hours after it happened, and he’s got that mega brain that has probably already run all the probabilities of Ivan’s next move.

  I trust him that time is of the essence.

  I first grab some clothes to change into, and since we’re essentially going on the run, I make it practical. A pair of workout leggings, a tank, zip-up hoodie, and my running shoes.

  In the bathroom, I snag the wrap off my head, scrubbing my scalp lightly to fluff the mass of dark curls that spring out in all directions. To avoid a bursting bladder, I pee, wash my hands, and brush my teeth. While in the bathroom, I grab a travel bag from under my sink and sweep the array of makeup and skin care products into it.

  From the closet, I grab my suitcase and start tossing clothes inside, focusing on sensibility versus fashion. Dozer is back in my room before I’m finished. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”