by Dani Pettrey
Slipping the pill in his mouth at the appointed time, Xavier fell to the floor, thrashing and jerking as it foamed inside. The white foamy liquid spilled over his lips, dripping onto the floor in a puddle around his face.
“He’s having a seizure,” Antonio hollered. “We need help!”
The lights clicked on, and Sergeant Beauford came running.
“Oh, dang,” he said. “Open cell three-seven-two and call an ambulance. Fuentes is having some sort of seizure.”
Xavier clenched his teeth, swishing his eyes about.
Beauford and two guards kept watch over him as the paramedics rushed in, rolling him onto the stretcher and strapping him in before raising it up to roll out.
“Hang on,” Beauford said. “He needs to be cuffed.” He moved, clicking the handcuff in place on Xavier’s flailing hand, securing him to the stretcher rail.
“Officer Trent will accompany the prisoner in the ambulance,” Lieutenant Russet said, “and I want a follow.”
“I’ll go,” Officer Garret volunteered, not realizing he’d be slaughtered.
They rolled Xavier out. Prisoners rattled and banged on their cell doors as he passed.
He was transferred to the ambulance and sighed with relief as the bay door shut and they pulled out of the prison.
Ten more minutes and he’d be free.
sixty
Xavier braced for impact, feeling fairly secure in his restraints. He couldn’t say the same for Officer Trent. Tonight was not his lucky night.
The ambulance jolted hard as the truck rammed into its side as planned. Tires squealed, and the horn blared. Officer Trent’s head collided with the side of the vehicle, knocking him out. The crunching sound of metal crumpling beneath the impact resounded through the otherwise still night.
Sliding sideways with skidding tires, they slammed into something else. The impact heaved him up, but he clamped onto the stretcher railing as the rocking vehicle tipped onto its side and stopped with a screeching thud.
Glass shattered in the front cab, gunfire retorting.
Two swift thwacks sounded on the other side of the wall separating the back from the cab.
The paramedic glanced up at Xavier from the floor, her eyes wide with fear. She scrambled to her feet.
The doors opened, and he smiled at the sight of his right-hand man, Max.
“Please,” the paramedic cried.
Max didn’t hesitate. Two swift shots and she fell to the ground.
“You okay, sir?” He stepped in, kicking the dead paramedic out of his way.
“Better than ever. Now get me out of these.” Xavier rattled his restraints, the cuff cutting into his wrist.
Max moved to assist.
“The paramedics up front taken care of?”
“Yes, sir.” Max removed the thick straps binding Xavier, then picked the cuff lock—the metal bracelet falling open.
Xavier rubbed his wrist, then climbed off the stretcher and out of the ambulance.
The follow police car was smashed into the concrete divider, the windshield shattered. Officer Garret wouldn’t be volunteering for any more follows.
“This way, sir.” Max led him to the waiting green minivan, a baby-on-board sticker on the back-hatch window.
His brows arched. “A minivan?”
“A good cover until you’re out of town.”
Xavier climbed inside.
“Hello, sir,” Hector greeted him.
Max lowered the hood—the “broken-down” vehicle had provided an excellent roadblock. He climbed in behind Xavier and shut the sliding door. “Ready,” he said, and they drove into the night.
Now to finish Gabrielle Rowley.
Finn kicked off his flip-flops and lay back on his couch to watch a rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond, trying to distract his mind from their kiss. But there was no way his mind would stop replaying it. The feel of her warmth against him. The featherlight touch of her lips . . .
He bunched his hands into fists, scrunching the couch pillow into a distorted mess. Releasing a shaky exhale, he tossed the remote on the coffee table and stood. Layla padded after him. Time for a cold shower.
His cell rang.
He glanced at the screen as Layla licked the back of his leg and he bent to pet her. Noah.
He answered, but before he even uttered a hello, Noah blurted, “I need you to get to Gabby now!”
His chest squeezed the air from his lungs. “What’s wrong?”
“Gabby’s boss called. Fuentes escaped.”
Tossing his phone, he grabbed his gun and a flashlight. The dew-covered grass soaked his bare feet as he sprinted for the loft, praying Gabby was okay.
sixty-one
Gabby let the hot water stream over her, rinsing the jojoba shampoo from her hair. Then she applied a thick lather of conditioner—to counteract the ocean’s salt water drying her ends—let it sit for a few seconds, and rinsed it out. Turning off the water, she stepped onto the plush bath mat and rubbed herself down with an oversized fluffy white towel.
She had just pulled on her pj’s when she heard footsteps racing up the outside steps. Her chest tightened. Rushing for her purse, she pulled out her Springfield and positioned her back against the wall, aiming the gun at the door. It swung open and she jumped out, gun in hand.
“Whoa!” Finn held up his hands, a gun gripped in his left, a flashlight in his right.
“Finn!” Her heart thwacked in her chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I could say the same. You mind putting the gun down?”
She looked at the Springfield 9mm still clutched in her hand. “Sorry.” She lowered it to her side.
Finn lowered his hands, sliding his gun into the back of his faded jeans.
“Wh . . . what are you doing here?”
“Fuentes escaped.”
She swallowed, her heart constricting. “What? When?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Noah just called and told me to get to you.”
“Do you think he knows I am here?” Please don’t let anything happen to my family.
“I don’t know, but I imagine it’s only a matter of time.”
She shook her head, moving for the closet.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting my bag.”
“What?” Confusion marred his brow.
“I’m leaving.”
“Why?”
“I can’t stay here.” She moved to the dresser and started throwing the few clothes she had in the bag.
He gently laid his hand on her arm. “You don’t have to run, Gabby. I’ll keep you safe.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Tell Rissi I’ll bring her stuff back as soon as this is over.”
“Over?” He shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“I have to leave.” She finished shoving things in the duffel—leaving out a shirt and pair of jeans.
He tightened his hold. His voice dropped an octave as he said, “I will protect you with my life.”
She swallowed. “I know you will. That’s why I have to leave.”
“Come again?”
“You will all give your lives to keep me safe, and I can’t endanger you all like that.”
“So you’re just going to run in the hopes he doesn’t catch you?”
“Yes.” She clutched her outfit in her hand, trying to move into the bathroom, but Finn held her tight, not letting go.
“And if he catches you?” His jaw tensed along with his shoulders.
“Then at least you guys will be safe,” she said.
He shook his head. “You can’t do that.”
Her shoulders dropped. “I don’t have a choice. I won’t let him hurt the people I love.”
He stilled. “You love?”
She nodded. “My family and the team.”
“Of course. The team.” He swallowed.
“And . . . you.” She might be dead come morning. She might as well tell him the truth.
He cocked his head, his brow furrowing. “And me?”
She nodded.
“You love me?” He closed the gap between them.
Tears bit at her eyes, and she nodded.
He pulled her hard against him and lowered his mouth to hers. She kissed him with all the feelings she’d been holding back. Everything dissolved except the feel of his arms holding her tight, and—
“Seriously!”
Gabby jerked her flustered gaze to the door.
Noah gripped the doorframe, half panting.
“Noah.” Gabby swiped her mouth. “What are you doing?”
“I just ran every light getting here, fearing you were in danger, and meanwhile you two are making out.”
She swallowed. “We weren’t . . . I wasn’t . . . I’m okay.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” Noah stepped inside, his breathing uneven. “Do me a favor? Answer your phones!”
Gabby bit her bottom lip. “Sorry. I was . . .”
“Yeah.” He linked his arms across his chest. “I saw.”
Heat rushed to her face.
“I . . . can explain,” Finn said, raking a hand through his hair.
Noah arched a brow. “And I look forward to hearing that explanation, but for now let’s focus on the fact that Fuentes is loose.”
“I heard, and the best solution is for me—”
“Is not for you to leave,” Finn said.
“Leave?” Noah’s brows shot back up. “You have got to be kidding.”
sixty-two
Gabby changed, and they managed to calm Noah down somewhat. Finn insisted for Gabby’s safety it would be best if she stayed in his guest room rather than being alone in the loft, and Noah agreed. While both acknowledged she was well able to protect herself, this was Xavier Fuentes—a ruthless drug lord and killer.
After fifteen minutes of arguing, she’d relented, and Finn helped her move her stuff into his guest room, happy she’d be where he could keep a better eye on her—to know she was safe and near. Noah was bunking on his couch, not wanting to leave his sister, period.
Finn tried to focus on her as his friend’s younger sister—his boss’s younger sister, but after that kiss and her declaration of love it was nigh impossible.
The heat of it all simmered beneath the surface, making it excruciating to say good night. His lips and heart longed for just one more kiss. But this was not the time to get distracted. His sole focus had to be on protecting her.
He doubted he’d sleep with so much energy coursing through him, but before he knew it, his eyes fell shut.
He rode through the tube, streams of sunlight reflecting off the water in rainbow prisms.
Cody had ridden along the wave, instead of in it. He had yet to ride inside one. Catching it just right was hard, but it was also the best feeling in the world. It was addictive to be in the center of something so powerful and beautiful. But he had no doubt his younger brother would master the skill one day soon. He was a fast learner.
Seafoam tickled Finn’s toes as he glided out of the tube into the open air.
Cody offered a chin lift of congratulations as he headed back out for the next gnarly line of mounting waves.
The surf was rougher than expected. Its churning and swelling made for sweet rides. Having a half hour before their mom would wave them in for breakfast, Finn swam back out. Sitting on his board beside his brother, he waited for the perfect wave. Then he spotted it.
Gripping his board, he swam for the oncoming swell. Cody swam beside him. They dipped their boards, diving under the thrashing wave.
Surfacing, Finn looked over to Cody, but he wasn’t there. He spun around, searching—waiting for his brother to surface, but there was no sign of him.
“Cody?”
Nothing.
“Cody!” His chest and throat squeezed. He scanned the sea. No sign of him. He rode up on the next wave to gain height. Finally, he spotted his brother’s feet tumbling in the midst of a crashing wave, but Cody was at least fifty feet to his right.
The undertow yanked Finn out to sea, and he swam hard against it, trying to reach his brother. The harder he pushed forward, the tighter its grasp yanked him back.
Finally reaching the general area he’d seen Cody’s feet, he glanced frantically around, searching. Surely Cody would have worked his way to the surface by now. Finn scanned the surface, his heart pounding in his ears over the ocean’s roar.
Cody was nowhere to be seen.
“Cody!”
Finn jerked upward, perspiration sticking to his skin in a thick layer.
A warm hand landed on his forearm. “It’s okay,” Gabby’s sweet voice said.
He tried to shake himself awake, to catch his bearings in the dark room. “Gabby?”
“You were having a nightmare,” she whispered.
He flipped on the bedside lamp, his heart thwacking in his chest.
Gabby stood over his bed, concern creasing her brow.
He rubbed his eyes, confusion marring his vision. “What happened?” Why was she in his room? He certainly didn’t mind her presence, but what had pulled her to him?
“You screamed, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. She looked adorable in her maroon tank top with a multicolored elephant in the center, her black sports bra straps sticking out from under the thin tank straps, and a pair of black knit shorts.
She shifted her stance, shuffling her feet along the floor. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Thanks.” He propped his back against the surfboard headboard. “Sorry I woke you. Everything’s okay. I was just . . .”
“Having a nightmare?”
He swallowed, heat rushing to his cheeks. “Noah?”
“He’s still asleep.” Gabby rubbed her hands along her arms. “I have them too.”
He climbed out of bed, grabbed his Panthers T-shirt off the chair in the corner, and slid it on, the edge hitting halfway down his gray sweat shorts. He moved to stand in front of her, cupping her face, his gaze soft and searching. “What wakes you up at night?”
She sighed. “Memories of the moment I thought my life was over.”
“By Fuentes’s man?” He caressed her cheek.
She shook her head. “By Asim.”
———
Gabby never talked about it, not even with family, barely even with God. She knew she had to release the hurt, anger, and terror of that moment to her Savior, but she feared if she did, she’d be vulnerable again. And that was a place she never wanted to return to.
But somehow Finn eased those anxieties. Maybe it was the way he looked at her or the utter genuineness of his words. Or perhaps it was the realization that something haunted him in the depths of night too.
He was waiting for her to say more, but she couldn’t quite go there yet. “What about you?” she asked.
Loss clung to Finn like a dry suit on a cold November day.
“What were you dreaming about?” she asked, not wanting to prod but wanting to be a listening ear and a place of support.
He looked down, raking a hand through his tousled hair. “Losing my brother to the sea.”
“Your brother?” She did a poor job of hiding the shock. She hadn’t even realized he’d had a brother.
He sank down onto the corner of his bed and rubbed his hands along his thighs, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“Cody.” His voice cracked. He looked up at her, a torn-up, bittersweet smile on his lips. “I haven’t said his name out loud in years.”
Just as she hadn’t spoken Asim’s in months.
He exhaled and, with a look of utter vulnerability, reached out his hand. She took hold, and he pulled her to sit with him on the bed.
“I was fourteen,” he said, the words coming out hoarsely. “Cody was twelve. We went surfing every morning before school. The ocean was our backyard. One morning we were out, and the
waves were swelling great.” A tiny muscle in his jaw flickered, and she moved her hand to his face, caressing the spot, trying to ease him as he continued.
“We went under a wave, but Cody never came up. I spotted him a good ways away, his feet kicking above the surface. The undertow must have pulled him down.” He shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. “We never found him.”
“Oh, Finn.” Her chest squeezed, tears burning her eyes. “I can’t even imagine . . . I’m so sorry.”
He clasped his hands, tightening his grip until his knuckles were white. “He was my responsibility, and I failed him.”
“You didn’t fail him. It was an accident.” She rested her hand atop his.
“That’s what everyone said, but I should have saved him. He’s gone because I wasn’t watching him closely enough.”
She laid her head against his chest, praying for him, praying for them both.
“Is that what propelled you to become a rescue swimmer?” she asked.
“I lost my brother to the sea, and I believed being a rescue swimmer would help me make sure the sea took no one else’s life. At least not on my watch. But I failed again.”
“Noah told me he read your file. What happened with the rescue wasn’t your fault. He said you had a torn rotator cuff, the copter was in jeopardy of going down if it stayed any longer, and the man was pinned in a sinking ship. He said you did everything right.”
“If I had, Stan Larson would still be alive, and his wife, Margie, wouldn’t be a widow.”
“It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure Mrs. Larson knows that.”
He inhaled. “How could she not blame me?”
“Have you asked her?”
He pulled back, his brow furrowing. “What?”
“Have you talked to Mrs. Larson since that day?”
“No. Of course not.”
She rubbed his clutched hands. “Maybe you should.”
After a moment of silence, he said, “I’ll think about it.”
