Blind Trust: A Military Romantic Suspense (Men of Steele Book 6)

by Gwen Hernandez

  Bam!

  Something hit the floor. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Was the cashier…?

  Blood trickled across the linoleum.

  “Now see what you made me do?” Megan screamed. “That nice innocent lady, just doing her job, and you got her killed.”

  Lindsey’s throat closed. I’m so sorry.

  She flipped a small switch on the side of her gun and tried again. Click.

  Bang!

  Lindsey dove behind a rack of chips at the back of the store near the drink coolers, the sound of blood pumping in her ears.

  “Your gun’s not loaded, dumbass. I didn’t want to accidentally kill you before I got my money.” She stepped over the cashier and moved behind the counter. “But I have plenty of bullets in this one. Come out, or I’ll shoot the next person who walks through that door.”

  Lindsey crouched on the sticky tile floor, her entire body pulsing as she peered between rows of chip bags.

  Megan’s gaze flicked between Lindsey’s hiding place and the closed-circuit television above the register. The tension in the room bloomed like an ominous cloud.

  Within seconds, an SUV pulled up to one of the pumps and two twenty-something women got out, heading for the glass doors.

  A wicked smile lit Megan’s face.

  “Okay.” Lindsey stood. She tried to raise her hands in surrender, but pain shot through her left upper arm, hot and throbbing. Pressure from her hand helped, but her fingertip found an open wound and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Nausea clawed at her stomach.

  Her legs went weak.

  Little black dots appeared in front of her eyes, and she broke out in a sweat. She dropped to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, sucking air through her nose.

  Holy fuck. She shook like a luffing sail.

  One of Megan’s earlier shots must’ve hit her. How the hell had she not noticed before?

  “We’re closed.” Megan’s voice cut through the fog in Lindsey’s brain as she turned off the OPEN sign in the window.

  Lindsey wiped her bloody hand on her dress and tried to gather her wits.

  The two women outside noticed Megan’s gun, their expressions of shock almost comical. One screamed. The other shouted, “Run!” They sprinted to the SUV and peeled out of the gas station, leaving Lindsey alone with a dead cashier and a revenge-bent Megan Lassiter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  TODD HADN’T WAITED for more info. He ran around the side of Dan’s house and jumped into his Charger just in time to catch sight of the black Accord running a yellow light to turn left onto the main road. Todd screeched to a halt as the light changed to red, unable to enter traffic without endangering anyone.

  The second he got the green, he made the same left and floored it, hoping to catch up.

  He had a chance as long as the other car didn’t turn off at any of the many side streets.

  But at least he was taking action.

  His phone rang through the car speakers. Jason. “What do you know?”

  “Reddy and Hamilton reported that Lindsey was seen getting into the passenger side.”

  “Willingly?”

  A pause while Jason spoke to someone in the background. “Appears so. No one was with her.”

  Why would she do that?

  Somehow Megan had lured her outside and convinced her not to tell him or anyone. His gut tightened and he punched the gas pedal to make the light as he raced toward one of the busiest commerce centers in NOVA.

  There was more muffled conversation on the other end of the line before Jason said, “Uh, she left you a message on the bathroom mirror.”

  Todd’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?”

  “It looks like it was written in eye liner, and it says, ‘Todd: Sorry. Had to go with M. Be safe.’” Jason cleared his throat. “‘I love you. L.’”

  She loved him? And this was how she chose to say it? What. The. Actual. Fuck?

  Fear grabbed him by the throat. Did she think she’d never get to tell him in person?

  “Kurt’s alerting the police that Megan might be in town, though we can’t confirm she was the driver,” Jason said.

  Todd gripped the steering wheel so hard his fingers hurt. “We need to find that car. And we need to figure out what kind of leverage Megan has over her to make her leave without telling anyone.”

  “Kurt’s on the phone with her parents now,” Jason said.

  She’d hate that. She never wanted them to worry.

  He banged his palm on the wheel. He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t. “Any idea how Megan contacted her?”

  “Dan found Lindsey’s purse and phone in the neighbor’s front yard. Valerie’s working her scary hacker magic to check for messages and track the sender.”

  Todd pushed the accelerator as much as he dared. Traffic thickened as he headed into Tysons Corner, and despite his desperation, he forced himself to take care. A mistake could hurt or kill someone innocent. Not to mention, if he got in an accident, he’d be no good to Lindsey.

  “I’m putting Valerie on,” Jason said as Todd got stuck at another traffic light.

  A second later, Valerie’s voice filled the car. “Todd, I was able to trace back the sender of the messages that convinced Lindsey to leave. Bottom line: the sender threatened her parents if she didn’t comply, and sent an ominous photo.”

  A sick feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Lindsey was sacrificing herself.

  He took a deep breath and waited for the traffic signal to turn, every muscle poised.

  “The important part,” Valerie continued, “is that I can use the cell towers to triangulate that sender’s location. It’s not quite as precise as GPS but—“

  “Where?” Todd asked.

  “Heading east on Chain Bridge at International. Currently, they appear to be stopped.”

  Thank you Jesus, they were so close. His body thrummed in anticipation. “I’m two intersections back. Keep me posted.”

  The light glowed green and Todd followed the car in front of him, forcing himself not to ride the Audi’s tail. At the first opportunity, he swerved around the guy and accelerated toward the massively busy intersection of two major shopping malls and a bunch of strip malls and office buildings.

  Traffic in the right lane leading to International Drive was backing up. At the light, he could just make out the black Honda blocking the right turn lane, its doors thrown open.

  He relayed what he saw to Valerie. “Something’s going down. Call the cops.”

  Fear slithering over him like snakes, he cut right into the first available parking lot, snagged his tactical gear bag from the trunk of his car, and took off running.

  “You shot me,” Lindsey said as Megan approached with the gun in her hand, eyes wild. Lindsey was feeling a little wild herself. Wild and woozy, and frankly, pissed.

  “How bad is it?” Megan stopped in front of her, gun pointed at Lindsey’s chest. “I’d prefer you stay alive. At least for now.”

  Lindsey pointed at her shoulder. “I don’t know. Feel free to look.” A wave of nausea made her shudder.

  “I’m not a fucking medic.” She reached into the neighboring aisle and produced a roll of self-adhesive bandage, tossing it into Lindsey’s lap. “Maybe this will help.”

  Lindsey thought of Todd using a glove to staunch his own bleeding while he ushered her to safety and almost sobbed. She had to be strong if she wanted to see him again. It didn’t matter if she was scared out of her fucking mind. It was try or die. Maybe both, but she had to fight.

  She ripped open the box and removed the roll. Clamping one end between her chin and shoulder, she wrapped the stretchy cloth around her upper arm and pressed the end until it stuck.

  Gripping her thighs, she took slow deep breaths through her mouth to quell another flare of pain.

  “All patched up?” Megan asked.

  Lindsey just glared at her.

  Sirens cut through the din of traffic outside the store.


  “Fuck.” Megan looked around frantically, and ducked into the aisle with Lindsey. “Come back here,” she said, waving her gun as she sidled toward the tall refrigerators stocked with bottled water and energy drinks.

  Lindsey crawled one-handed on shaky limbs. To her left was an open door topped with a sign for the exit and restrooms.

  The front entrance rattled several times and a man called out, “Hello?”

  Megan carefully peered over the shelf.

  Lindsey dove through the doorway, crashing into a mop cart. She slithered into the dingy storage area, kicking the door shut behind her. Heart banging in her chest, she pushed to her feet and rammed the heavy-duty mop head under the door knob, bracing the end of the handle against a box pushed up to the opposite wall.

  “Hey!” Megan cried.

  Lindsey stumbled to the side and looked around the dimly lit space. To her right was the one-hole bathroom, but that was a death trap.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Lindsey screamed as bullets embedded themselves in the far wall.

  “Come back here, bitch!” Megan yelled through the fresh holes in the door.

  Something hit the door, putting a crack in it.

  And again.

  Lindsey flinched with each blow. The mop handle bowed and creaked.

  Across the room and down a small, dim corridor, something thunked. A breeze rattled papers tacked to a corkboard plastered with employee notices.

  Crack! Another blow to the barrier between her and Megan. The wood around the deadbolt had begun to splinter. Much more and Meg would be able to reach through and unlock the door.

  Nodding to herself, Lindsey sucked in a deep breath and nearly choked on the scent of mildew and urine. Focus. All she had to do was get to the corridor and around the corner. What were the odds of Megan getting in a good shot as Lindsey passed by? Didn’t matter. If Lindsey stayed put, she had zero chance of surviving.

  She waited for another kick to rattle the door. Stepping out with her right foot, she lunged and slid into a roll—something she’d practiced hundreds, if not thousands, of times in volleyball—crossing the open space quickly.

  Bullets slammed into the wall above her, the sound assaulting her eardrums.

  Lindsey popped to her feet in the corridor, ears ringing, left arm throbbing. She’d made it! All she had to do now was get around the corner and out the back.

  The door crashed open behind her. “Stop!”

  Lindsey plowed into the wall at the end of the hall, pushing off to fling herself to the right toward the wide-open exit where a panel truck had parked close to the building with its ramp lowered, and a stack of boxes sat just outside the doorway.

  A bullet hit the wall where her head had just been. The blast reverberated through the small space.

  Body amped on adrenaline, she made a final push.

  Megan grabbed the back of her dress.

  The fabric tore, but ultimately held, jerking Lindsey to an abrupt halt, her shoes slipping on the linoleum.

  Something hard jabbed into her ribs. “Don’t move.”

  Goddammit. She’d been so close.

  Could she twist and knock the gun out of Megan’s hand without getting shot? There had to be something. Lindsey scanned the hallway for inspiration, a weapon, anything, but it was empty. Warm air carried the scent of stale cigarette smoke, and a yellow glow from outside lit the space.

  A figure with broad shoulders peered around the doorway, face in the shadows.

  Megan’s head whipped up.

  Bang bang bang!

  The man stumbled and fell to his back, unmoving.

  Light spilled across Todd’s face.

  The scream surged out of Lindsey like flame from a dragon. “Nooo!”

  She spun and knocked the gun from Megan’s hand. Before the other woman could respond, Lindsey landed a solid punch to her cheekbone.

  Megan staggered into the wall. A beat passed, both of them momentarily stunned. Lindsey shook the pain from her hand and dove for the weapon.

  Megan reached it first.

  Lindsey grabbed her wrist.

  The bitch squeezed Lindsey’s injured shoulder.

  Fiery-hot pain doubled her over at the waist, stealing her breath. She put a hand on the wall for balance and looked up into the barrel of the gun.

  “Fuck the money. I’ll find another way.” Megan’s smile was a thing of nightmares. “Goodbye, Lindsey.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  TODD REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS and sucked in a harsh breath. The tactical vest had protected him, but three shots to the chest still hurt like a motherfucker.

  As did the back of his head.

  Scuffling and grunting noises pulled him back into the moment. Lindsey!

  He pushed to his knees, head spinning, and squinted into the dim hallway. Lindsey was kneeling on the floor in front of Megan, a gun aimed at her forehead.

  Nononononono. Why were his hands empty?

  He twisted and scanned the asphalt. There!

  Todd lunged for his weapon.

  “Fuck the money,” Megan said. “I’ll find another way.”

  He snatched up the gun and rolled to his side, getting a bead on Megan’s pale shirt in the shadows.

  Megan smiled. “Goodbye, Lindsey.”

  Lindsey flung her arms up.

  Todd pressed the trigger, firing again and again and again, until the gun clicked empty.

  Megan slumped against the wall and slid to the floor.

  Lindsey looked on, wide-eyed, mouth open in a silent scream, but still alive, thank God. Scrambling to get away from the other woman, she threw herself toward Todd.

  “Are you okay?” His ears rang in the sudden hush as he charged into the narrow space, dropping to his knees to scoop Lindsey’s trembling body into his arms. “I’ve got you.”

  They clung to each other as if tentacled, twined so tightly he could hardly breathe. Or maybe that was the latent fear, the discharge of adrenaline. He’d come so close, so close to losing her.

  Never again.

  He gripped her tear-stained cheeks and met her gaze. “I love you, Lindsey.”

  His ears were so cottony he could hardly hear his own voice, but he could read her lips when she responded, “I love you, too.”

  Then she kissed him with all the desperation, residual fear, and frantic desire pulsing through his own veins. And underneath it all: love.

  So much love.

  The only thing that mattered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, three days after killing Megan, two days after the docs cleared him and the police released him, Todd stood on the balcony of Lindsey’s Hermosa Beach apartment. His body wrapped around hers from behind as they watched the first light of the day wash over the rooftops below and the Pacific Ocean beyond. The cool, humid air ruffled their hair and encouraged her to snuggle deep into his embrace.

  The moment was about as perfect as it got.

  And they’d almost never had it.

  A tight band squeezed his chest. The memory of a gun in Lindsey’s face made it hard to breathe. He’d come so close to losing her…

  She had lost him. Or thought she had. Thank God his vest had worked as advertised, or they’d both be dead.

  Thank God it was over.

  For Megan too. Her death brought him no joy, but it did bring relief. It meant Lindsey was safe now. It meant she and Todd had a chance to move forward without the threat of reprisal hanging over them like a teetering boulder.

  They’d spent the last two days making love and traveling, both of them avoiding talking about the nightmare they’d barely survived.

  “This view is amazing,” he said, focusing on the woman still very much in his embrace, soaking up every moment. “I can see why you like it here.”

  Her one-bedroom apartment was small, but bright and airy, with plenty of light and vaulted ceilings. Her furnishings were cozy and inviting, the space neat but not sterile. Framed w
atercolors of ocean scenes kept the white walls from being too stark.

  His townhome was dark and cramped in comparison, despite being larger. And he couldn’t even dream of matching her view.

  “This little sliver of blue is all I can afford right now, but I love it. And I’m only about half a mile from the beach. We should go down.”

  After dressing, they walked through hilly, tightly packed neighborhoods with a mishmash of homes from different eras, all vying for ocean views.

  When they reached the Strand—the concrete path that edged the beach—it was already busy with walkers, joggers, and bicyclists. Out on the sand, volleyball players staked out boundaries around tall nets, or toted large mesh bags full of practice balls. Two middle-aged men wearing wetsuits and holding surfboards studied the waves.

  Lindsey led Todd through a break in the low stucco wall, and they stopped to remove their shoes.

  Once they reached the shoreline, Todd dug his toes into the soft, cool sand and watched the waves roll in. Endless, mesmerizing, meditative. “I haven’t been to the beach in years.” Not for vacation anyway. “I almost forgot how nice it is.”

  “Well, now you can stay with me anytime you need some ocean in your life.”

  He tugged her closer and brushed his lips across her cheek. “This is great, but you’re the draw here.”

  Wrapping her uninjured arm around his neck, she plastered her body to his and kissed him on the mouth. “I love you.”

  He would never tire of hearing her say those words.

  “I love you too.” He kissed her back, and things quickly heated with tongues tangling and hands wandering.

  Someone called out, “Get a room!” followed by an eruption of laughter.

  Todd glanced up to find several teenagers in wetsuits carrying surfboards under their arms, grinning as they walked toward shore, dripping wet.

  He grinned at the little fuckers. Someday, they’d understand.

  For the rest of the week, Lindsey and Todd made the morning beach walk part of their daily routine, often after a round of lovemaking, sometimes taking coffee in travel mugs and sitting in the dry sand to watch the waves.