Outlaw Derek

by Kay Hooper

  Especially people like Derek. She wished then that she could steal a few hours from time and just talk to him. Learn him. She wanted to know why he remained in his business despite the drawbacks and dangers, wanted to know about those choices he must have made over the years. She wanted to know what kept him going when there must have been times when he didn’t want to go on, times when it would have been easier to just walk away.

  Times when it would have been easier not to be strong.

  And she wanted to thank him. Thank him, one human being to another, for being the man he was. For teaching her so much about herself and others. Thank him for being a caregiver, for being patient and strong and the single constant in the turmoil of the last days.

  It would have been so easy to go back to him right now. To crawl into bed beside him and just hold on to the warmth and strength he radiated. It would be so easy to let herself believe he loved her. To lose herself in that love until it wouldn’t matter whether or not it was real.

  Her instincts were silent.

  Shannon drew a deep breath and leaned against the cold bricks behind her, staring blindly at the brightly lit parking lot, which was empty of cars. No. This once, just this once, she was going to be strong enough to take control of her life. She was walking away from Derek, steadily, not running in panic but walking, because it was the right thing for her to do. It was the only thing she could do in her uncertainty. Because she had to find the strength and courage to go on within herself, and not look helplessly to him for it.

  That was it, really. She had never in her life depended on anyone else, and her dependence on Derek was unnerving. And that’s all it was, of course, all she felt about him. It had to be that, because it made sense. Like a patient who fell in love with the doctor who saved her life, she had … she thought she had … but it wasn’t real.

  It couldn’t be real.

  She watched a dark car roll into the parking lot, and pushed herself away from the wall as it stopped a few feet away. The driver’s door opened and he got out quickly, turning a tense and worried face to her.

  “Shannon—”

  “Hello, William.”

  Derek knew, the moment he came to full awareness, what had roused him from a sound sleep. The room was utterly silent, dark, and peaceful. And the place beside him in bed was empty. He was alone, and all his screaming senses told him that she was not with him, that the house was empty and had been for some time. Shannon was gone.

  No one had taken her away from him, he knew that. She had left on her own.

  He was out of bed and dressing even before the thought registered fully, his mouth dry and his heart pounding heavily. It took precious moments for him to dress and get what he needed from where it lay high on a closet shelf, untouched for so long, for what he had thought would be forever. It seemed like an eternity before he could go after her. He was swearing inwardly, a toneless and desperate litany, knowing that he had made a terrible, deadly mistake in not telling her all he knew and suspected.

  She was out there, unaware that her trust was a fatal weapon in cruel hands, innocently assuming that her own knowledge was correct. He had wanted to shield her if possible, break the truth to her gently, and only if necessary.

  It was too late for that now. God help him, it might be too late for Shannon.

  His one mistake could get her killed.

  Once outside the building, he hesitated and then trusted his instincts, automatically turning in a direction where there were lights in the distance, where he knew she would find businesses still open, people. She had no money, and she’d have to use a phone, he knew.

  He walked as swiftly as he dared, his gaze scanning the dark streets and shadows carefully, his moccasins silent. He could hear his heart thudding, feel the hoarse rasp of breath in his throat. He had known fear before in his life, like any rational man, but the icy dread that gripped him now was unfamiliar and brutal. He wanted to cry out wildly to the night, shout some ringing command against time.

  If she had only waited … Very soon it would be over, the events set in motion making her safe for good. But it was now, during these brief hours before morning, that she was the most vulnerable.

  I should have told her.

  He saw the convenience store and quickened his steps, fear clawing at his throat. Was he in time? He rounded the corner of the building just as a long black car rolled to a stop, and even as the other man stepped out and spoke, he heard his own voice emerge with utter calm.

  “Hello, William.”

  Shannon felt her heart stop and then begin to pound heavily, and she looked to her left to see Derek standing a few feet away and gazing at William Franklin.

  There was an instant of silence, almost as if everything had stopped, become frozen in an icy tableau of stillness, and then Franklin was smiling faintly at the other man. “Hello, Derek. Shannon called me.”

  “I know she did.” Derek was looking at Franklin, not Shannon, and his voice was soft.

  “I’ll take her back with me,” Franklin said, “so you can get on with whatever it is you have to do.”

  “No,” Derek said.

  The governor chuckled. “I don’t blame you for wanting to keep her. But she’s been through a lot, you know. It’ll do her good to get some rest.”

  “Come with me, Shannon,” Derek said, still looking at the governor.

  Franklin sent her a reassuring smile. “You’ll be better off with me, Shannon. Derek’s sense of responsibility is working overtime, but you don’t want to get in his way anymore.”

  “Bastard,” Derek said tonelessly.

  She looked from one to the other, bewildered, a chill of fear trickling down her spine. There was something wrong here, something terribly wrong. The two men were suddenly strangers, looking at each other with hard faces and cold, deadly eyes. And she was somehow in the middle, squarely between them, in a tug-of-war that was more than a game.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “Come with me, Shannon,” Franklin said, smiling at her with newly bright, warm eyes. “I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I? You know I’d never hurt you—I owe you my life. Come with me.” He held out a hand to her.

  “Shannon.” Derek’s voice was quiet, expressionless. “Trust me. Please trust me. Come to me.”

  On some detached level of herself, Shannon realized that she stood physically between them, and that neither could move, neither could get a clear—shot at the other. Shot? Why was she thinking that? Why? “I was leaving,” she said.

  “I know.” Derek was still looking at Franklin, offering her nothing of reassurance in a glance or smile. “We’ll talk about that. But come to me now.”

  The silence then was eternal, a screaming silence she didn’t understand. But in that moment, the only certainty she felt was her certainty in Derek. It was a crystal-clear realization, stripped bare in a moment of stark need, and there was nothing muffled or distant about her feelings then, nothing unsure. For the first time since she had met Derek, she knew exactly what she was feeling, and knew why.

  Without looking back, she turned away from Franklin and walked straight and steady into Derek’s arms. She felt him shudder as he gathered her close, felt his chest rise and fall with harsh breaths, and then the strength and warmth of him surrounded her like a blanket of peace.

  Derek had half turned as she reached him so that she was partially protected by him, by his powerful body, and she could see Franklin clearly as the governor stood stiffly, staring at them with a bitter look on his face. He took an abrupt step toward them, beginning to reach inside his coat, then halted as Derek freed one hand to pull a businesslike automatic from the small of his back and level it in a smooth, practiced movement.

  Franklin didn’t move. The utter shock on his face would have been amusing if the circumstances had been different. “I thought—but—you never use guns.”

  “I never have.” Derek’s voice was still quiet. “This time, there
wasn’t a choice.”

  Franklin nodded. “Because of her.”

  “She was almost killed, William. Do you really believe there’s anything I wouldn’t do to keep you from finishing the job?” There was nothing particularly cold or menacing about Derek’s voice. It wasn’t a loud voice, or a hard voice, or even a sharp voice. It was a gentle voice. But Shannon, held securely in the strong curve of his arm, shivered. And she saw Franklin’s face go deathly pale.

  “How long have you known?” the governor asked woodenly.

  “Almost from the beginning. You gave Shannon someone to run to, William, and that wasn’t like you. It didn’t make sense to me that you suspected trouble at Civatech and yet didn’t do anything about it. Not when you obviously cared so much about Shannon. I would have thought you’d get her into the governor’s mansion instantly and then blow the whistle the moment you realized something was going on. But you didn’t. It bothered me. And it bothered me to remember that blackmail threat against you years ago. A man can only be blackmailed when he’s done something wrong. I knew of at least one very bad mistake you’d made in your career, a greedy mistake. It was entirely possible you’d gotten greedy again. And then, when your paid assassins found the loft so quickly, I knew it had to be you. No one else who was involved had the clout to find deeds with my name on them that fast.”

  “I never wanted her to be hurt,” the governor said, almost pleading. “That’s why I sent her to you. Moreton panicked and set that bomb in her apartment, it wasn’t me. I made sure she knew to go to you. I knew you’d look out for her. But it was supposed to be over before you could act. I never counted on that shipping delay giving you time to get your hands on Cyrano. After that … I never had a choice, don’t you see? I never had a choice. You had to be stopped.”

  “I could forgive you that, William,” Derek said. “Going after me was the only practical thing to do—I was a threat. It’s Shannon I can’t forgive you for. Blowing up her home and nearly killing her. Having her hunted like an animal. There was no need for that, and you know it.”

  “It was Moreton who panicked and had the apartment—”

  “You’re responsible. Ultimately, you’re responsible.”

  Franklin straightened shoulders that had slumped. “I see.” He drew a deep, unsteady breath, and asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

  “Your little toy’s been disarmed. I let your driver go deliberately, William: I recognized him, and I knew he’d tell you Cyrano had been taken. I made sure you couldn’t get in touch with Moreton. I knew it was the only way to draw you out. I thought you’d go for me. I didn’t—I didn’t expect Shannon to call you.” He sighed roughly. “Anyway, it worked. We stopped the truck long enough to disarm the device and wipe the programming. And it was delivered, on time, in Norfolk. Moreton thinks he’s delivering the real thing to Yaltan in person.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath from Franklin. “He’ll be killed.”

  “Yes.” Derek’s voice was flat. “But before he’s killed, he’ll no doubt talk. Yaltan won’t be happy with you, William. You’d better find a deep hole.”

  “I’m the governor,” Franklin said, a last attempt at dignity and forcefulness.

  “You’re nothing.” Derek sounded weary. “Leave office, resign in the morning. If you don’t, I’ll break the whole thing open before Yaltan gets the chance to.”

  There was an instant’s silence, and then Franklin said constrictedly, “You’re letting me go?”

  “For her sake.” His arm tightened around Shannon, and the gun never wavered. “Yaltan might get to you. He might not. But look over your shoulder for the rest of your life, William. One day, I’ll be there.”

  “I sent her to you,” Franklin said dully.

  “Yes. That’s the only reason you’re still alive. Now get out of my sight.”

  With the jerky motion of a puppet with half its strings cut, Franklin turned and got into his car. A moment later, the dark car was rolling quietly out of the parking lot, and soon disappeared in the shadowy streets.

  “Derek—”

  “Shhh.” The gun fell to his side as Derek turned her, keeping his arm around her and guiding her back the way they’d come. “We’ll talk at the house, honey.”

  The tone of his voice, deadened and hollow, frightened her. She walked beside him in silence, grappling with the knowledge that it had been William all along, William who had intended to see her dead. That fact didn’t feel quite real to her, and yet she believed it.

  And she knew there was something else that had happened, something so vitally important that the knowledge of William’s perfidy had been blunted in its impact on her. She had … what had she done?

  She had chosen. With no idea of what was going on between the two men, she had been asked to trust only one of them. And she had done just that. Partly instinctively, but also consciously, she had chosen only one.

  She should have chosen William over Derek. In her mind, he had been no threat, had been the good friend, undemanding, trustworthy. She had known him longer, trusted him longer. He hadn’t made her nervous or wary, hadn’t mixed up her emotions. Like the father she just barely remembered, he had represented stability and comfort and wisdom. The known quantity.

  And Derek … a man who might well have done terrible things in the name of a greater good. A man who was adept in darkness and shadows. A man with old, sapphire-flecked eyes, and a hard, handsome face that had doubtless broken hearts. A man with scars, like her own. She had known him a matter of days, had been bewildered and unnerved by him, had felt wariness and mistrust and wild passion because of him. He had stripped away her walls with deliberate thoroughness, leaving her achingly vulnerable. He had held up a mirror to her soul and shown her a reflection she’d never seen before and could hardly believe.

  And she had chosen him.

  “Trust your instincts. There are moments when you have to make choices, especially in this world. And it’s in those moments when your instincts will tell you the truth. Just listen to them.”

  And her instincts had finally answered.

  Not just trust. Not just need. Love.

  Shannon realized with a start that they had reached the house, that they were inside. She watched Derek turn on lights in the living room, and she felt light-headed and dizzy.

  He looked down at the gun in his hand, and his mouth twisted. Flicking on the safety catch, he dropped the automatic into a chair with a weary gesture. “It’s almost dawn,” he said.

  Shannon couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Yes.”

  He avoided her gaze, rubbing the back of his neck as if it were tense. “It’ll be safe for you soon. The news will break in a few hours about William’s resignation,” he said flatly. “You’ll be able to leave then.”

  “Will I?”

  A muscle tightened in his jaw. “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to?”

  Derek turned away and went over to the window, staring out at a graying darkness. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” he said in a low voice. “You were leaving me. I’ve pushed you too hard, and I’m not going to do that again.”

  After a moment, she said, “I think I said once that love was—an illusion.”

  His shoulders tensed. “Mirrors and lights. I remember,” he said in a rough tone.

  “I was wrong.”

  Derek was still for a long minute, and then turned slowly to face her. He was a little pale, his expression masklike in its immobility. “What’re you saying?” His voice was uneven.

  “I shouldn’t have chosen you,” she said wonderingly. “By all rights, I shouldn’t have chosen you. It wasn’t because of trust; I trusted both of you. And I didn’t realize he’d done those—terrible things, so that wasn’t it. I chose you because … because …”

  He crossed the space between them in three steps, his hands lifting to catch her shoulders. “Shannon …”

  “Because I love you.” It was said on a sigh, astonishment
and delight glowing in her eyes.

  Derek pulled her against him suddenly, holding her possessively. “I hope you’re sure, sweetheart,” he said unsteadily, “because I love you too much to ever let you go.”

  “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she told him, and in the tender heat of his kiss, she finally found the truth.

  It didn’t matter which world was real.

  He was.

  BANTAM BOOKS BY KAY HOOPER

  THE BISHOP TRILOGIES

  Stealing Shadows • Hiding in the Shadows •

  Out of the Shadows

  Touching Evil • Whisper of Evil •

  Sense of Evil

  Hunting Fear • Chill of Fear •

  Sleeping with Fear

  Blood Dreams • Blood Sins • Blood Ties

  THE QUINN NOVELS

  Once a Thief • Always a Thief

  ROMANTIC SUSPENSE

  Amanda • After Caroline •

  Finding Laura • Haunting Rachel

  CLASSIC FANTASY AND ROMANCE

  On Wings of Magic • The Wizard of Seattle •

  My Guardian Angel (anthology) •

  Yours 2 Keep (anthology) •

  Golden Threads • Something Different •

  Pepper’s Way • C. J.’s Fate •

  The Haunting of Josie • Illegal Possession •

  If There Be Dragons • Rebel Waltz •

  Larger than Life • Time After Time •

  In Serena’s Web • Raven on the Wing •

  Rafferty’s Wife • Zach’s Law •

  The Fall of Lucas Kendrick • Unmasking Kelsey •

  Outlaw Derek