Heavy Artillery Husband Read Online Free Page B

life for three decades. Impossible...
    â€œFrank?” In the darkness it was hard to tell. Maybe her vision had been compromised along with her common sense. “How?”
    â€œI’ll explain everything in a minute. Can you walk?”
    â€œOf course.” Offended, she took a step as he did, then stopped short. “My suitcase!” Her computer was in there; she wouldn’t leave it behind. “It’s in the back.”
    â€œAt least you came prepared to run.” He sounded relieved as he returned to pull her suitcase out of the backseat. “Tell me you didn’t check out of the hotel.”
    She hadn’t, though she refused to volunteer anything. “I don’t owe you any explanations.”
    â€œTrue enough.”
    She struggled to keep up with his longer stride even in her flats. Just like old times , she thought. At just over six foot he was eight inches taller than her, and those inches seemed to all be in his legs. Where were they going? Away from her car...back the way she’d come, she realized. The headlights of a car in the distance allowed her to make out a vehicle waiting in the ditch a few yards away. Black. SUV.
    He opened the passenger-side door for her, the way he’d done at every opportunity since their first date. Her stomach churned as her heart floated on a silly, girlish burst of hope. Could this really be Frank, alive and apparently well? She squashed the fluttery sensations. If it was, her husband owed her a great many answers. “Where are you taking me?”
    â€œDoes it matter as long as you survive?”
    â€œIt might,” she replied. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
    â€œOne of the many things I love about you.”
    Though he’d surely meant it as a comfort, his use of the present tense deflated her hopes and sent them crashing in an unwelcome thud in her chest. It couldn’t be true. If he still loved her, why had he let her suffer thinking he was dead? “The rental agreement is in the car,” she remembered, too late.
    The SUV bumped and lurched along the ditch until he found enough of a rut to get them back up to the road. “Sophie, they know you were driving the car. You were run off the road because they were following your movements. They’ve targeted you.”
    She studied what she could see of his hard profile, finally registering his all-black attire. In the dark sweater, cargo pants and matte jump boots, he’d dressed for an operation rather than a reunion. She suppressed the chill of concern about what he’d gotten himself tangled up in. “Who is ‘they’?”
    â€œIt’s a long story.”
    â€œThen start talking.” How could this be happening?
    â€œAs soon as we’re safely out of here. The story I have to tell you is too important to be interrupted.”
    â€œConvenient.” She crossed her arms. “You invite me to a conversation and then you won’t talk.”
    â€œIt’s better if you hear none of it rather than only some of it,” he insisted. “Keep an eye out for anyone on our tail.”
    â€œFine.” She wanted to ignore him and the outrageous situation, but she couldn’t afford such a childish indulgence. “At least tell me how you faked your death.”
    â€œSoon, I promise.”
    Anger surged through her, fueled by the adrenaline of sliding off the road into increasingly impossible circumstances. “Tell me now or take me back to the hotel.”
    â€œIf I take you back to the hotel, they’ll kill you tonight,” he claimed. “And Frankie tomorrow.”
    That got her attention and put her focus back on point. She pulled her cell phone out of her purse, her fingers brushing, in the process, the notes he’d written. Goose bumps surged up and down her arms. “I’m calling Victoria. She’ll send someone to pick us up.”
    He shook his head. “No. Turn it