Lucas shook his head. “No.” Something moved to his left. His head jerked around. He caught a glimpse of orange. Flames! He spun, barreled into Gilly and pinned her against the wall. He heard the crack followed by the whoosh and pop of fire igniting in another room.
“They’re torching the place!”
He looked over his shoulder and saw a blaze at the other end of the hall. Whoever was outside wanted to pin them in, leave them to roast alive. “Cover your mouth with your shirt!” He had to yell over the roar of the flames sucking the oxygen out of the house. “Is there a way out the basement?”
Gilly shook her head. “Back door!” Lucas glanced over his shoulder and looked in the direction she pointed.
The flames were still in the other room. They had time. “Don’t move!” Reluctantly, he drew away from her. More glass. Bent at the waist, he stayed low and moved to the back door. He peered outside, looking left and right and saw nothing. His eyes on the back yard, he held out his hand. “Come on!”
When she was at his side, he tugged her close. “Listen. When we open this door, the fire is going to rush us and light this baby up. You’ve got to haul ass. I’ll be right on your six.”
“You go first!”
Lucas squeezed her hand. “I’ll follow you.” Besides, if anyone was going to get singed it was him, not Gilly. “You ready?”
She nodded, her eyes wide, locked on his.
He wrenched the door open, heard the oxygen feed the fire, and shoved Gilly through the door in front of him. He wanted to shut the door behind him, but when he felt the lick of the flames against his heels, he tossed the idea aside and ran like a bat out of hell. He caught up with Gilly at the back gate where she struggled to get the latch open.
“Watch out!” She stepped aside and he rammed the fence with his shoulder. Wood splintered and the latch gave. “Go!”
She led with her weapon and moved out. He was right behind her, grateful for the cover of the trees.
CRACK!
A bullet hit one of the large oaks to their right. Gilly grabbed her head and looked back at him. “Keep going!” She turned back, her feet never faltering.
Another shot rang out. “Son of a bitch!” A limb dropped not a foot from him. He swung back and shot behind him wildly. He did not care. All he wanted was to give them some cover. Twisting back around, he added steam to his feet and was almost on top of Gilly. “Get the lead out!”
Her arms pumped faster and her strides lengthened. She succeeded in heeding his warning. When she took the corner, he glanced over his shoulder. He neither saw nor heard anything. Maybe the shooter had given up. In the next instant, he found out that was not the case. As he turned the corner, he heard the crack and whiz of a high-powered rifle then his heart stopped. Everything seemed to move in slow motion.
The bullet ripped into her flesh. A scream rent the air. Her body jerked then recoiled. Blood sprayed out and splattered the back of her shirt. She stumbled to her knees then got back up. From his peripheral vision, he saw a black clad figure move in the trees toward her.
“Maureen!”
She whirled to look at him and grabbed her arm. Agony creased her face. Lucas halted, planting his feet. He aimed his weapon in the direction of the shooter until he had a bead on him. He pulled the trigger. Twice. The guy’s head exploded, his rifle flew up and out, and the man dropped like a stone without a sound.
Heart hammering, Lucas sprinted for her. Without slowing down, he scooped her up and over his shoulder. He spotted the car. It was only another twenty yards away. He did not stop to ask her for the keys. Reaching under the front fender, his fingers located and removed the box that held a spare. His hands shook, but he managed to get the key into the lock. With slow, gentle movement, he let Gilly slide down his body and eased her into the passenger seat.
“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll be okay. I’ll get you some help. You are not going to die.” He shut the door, ran around to the other side, and fought to get the door unlocked. When he finally did, he slid in and keyed the ignition. Without looking, he pulled onto the road and stepped on the pedal. “Come on!” he yelled to the car, slamming his fist against the wheel.
“Luke.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. He answered her by taking her hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“Luke.” This time he glanced over at her pale, sweat-soaked face. His lungs searched for air and his heart squeezed as if in a vice.
“Yeah, baby.”
Her lashes fluttered and her eyelids opened revealing a pained expression. “I’m not going to die.”
Lucas shook his head. “No, you’re not. I’m not going to let that happen.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her dry, ashen lips. “I mean.” She sucked in a breath and winced, her nose and eyes scrunching up. “You can patch it up.”
His mouth dropped open and then he shut it, compressing his lips together, and gave a shake of his head. “No. You need a hospital.”
She rested a hand on his thigh. Even through the denim, he felt the chill of her skin. “No hospital. You can fix it.” Gilly drew in air. “Please.”
His teeth clenched, Lucas debated with himself. A hospital or doctor would be better. They could care for her with very little pain and not leave a scar. Not that she would give a damn about a scar. He did not want to hurt her. However, a hospital would leave a trail. They would ask questions. He could patch her up. He had the knowledge and skill. You could not be in the military and not know how to fix up a buddy or yourself. It was either sew or die.
Exhaling a long sigh, he made the decision. With the first-aid kit in the trunk of his car, he took an exit into DC and stopped at the first no-tell motel he came to. Engine running, he ran inside and registered then hopped back in and drove around to the backside of the building and parked.
He got out of the car on the run and went around to her side. Gently, he slid his arms behind her back and under her knees, and maneuvered her out. Once he got the motel door open and Gilly settled on the nearest bed, he hurried back to the car and retrieved the first-aid kit.
THIRTEEN
Damn! The pain was excruciating! She would not tell Luke for fear he would take her to the hospital in spite of his better judgment. The wound burned and the aroma of cordite mixed with her own blood wafted up her nostrils. Her stomach lurched in revolt, but Gilly held it back on a gag.
“Come on, Lucas,” she begged between clenched teeth.
“Someone call my name?”
She popped open one eye and regarded the man standing next to the bed. His face pale, his lavender eyes rimmed red, his hands stained with blood trembled. If she did not know better, she would think he was the one with the bullet hole in his shoulder. When she felt the mattress dip, she opened the other eye and watched Lucas set the first-aid kit on the small table beside the bed. Then she felt his fingers glide along her arm and quiver against her cold skin.
“It will be fine,” she assured him.
Lucas pressed his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Gilly closed her eyes, comforted in his words. “Then don’t.” She smiled when he leaned back and peered down at her.
“You are such a smartass.” She giggled then coughed as the movement caused ten thousand needles of pain to shoot through her backside.
“Do it,” she ground out. His hands slid up the hem of her shirt and instinct had her pushing back in resistance.
“It’s got to go.” Lucas lifted the shirt, freed her good arm and then her head before he expertly slipped the shirt down her bad arm pausing when the material got stuck. “Some of the blood has dried. The shirt is stuck to the wound.”
She nodded once, turned her head, and squeezed her eyes shut. When he managed to get past the spot, she blew out a long sigh. It only stung a little more. Lucas gasped. Her eyes flew open, searched his face. “What?” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his gaze not on her face, but at her wound. “What is it?”
<
br /> “It must have been a high-powered rifle.” Lucas used her shirt and wiped at the sweat on her face. “It came clean through and exited out the front.” His fingers palpated her collarbone. Gilly bit the inside of her cheek as a sharp jolt ran through her body. “I don’t think it’s busted, but it may be cracked. After we get you stitched, we’ll rig a sling.”
Great! She did not have time for this. She had to get somewhere and put Morpheus back together, or rather rebuilt. Her arm in a sling would slow her down. She groaned aloud.
“What? Maureen, are you okay?” His voice frantic, she laid a hand on his thigh.
“Fine, I’m just not happy with the situation.” The muscles in Luke’s jaw tensed and flexed. Apparently, he was not too thrilled either.
When she thought he would move, his gaze caught on something and she felt his fingers between her breasts. She sucked in a sharp gasp and slapped at his hand. “What are you doing?”
His wry grin irritated her and if she had been in a better position, she might have punched his lights out. “Lucas.”
“Shut up.” His warm fingers slipped under the lace of her bra. Her eyes widened at the same time she tried to shy away from his touch. Then his hand was gone.
“What’s this?”
Gilly blinked and focused as realization hit. “It’s a FLASH drive.”
“Yeah. And?” His gaze narrowed on her.
“That was what I went to Jimmy’s to get. It’s the files I need to finish what we started.”
“I see.” His flat tone and the corded muscles in his neck bulged, belying his words. “And this?” He held an envelope up for her to see, the one addressed to her. “Or are you just a human mail slot?”
“Ha. Ha. I found it with the FLASH drive.” She inhaled and urged the emotional pain away. She would rather deal with the pain of a bullet than the torture of grief. “I haven’t had a chance to read it yet.”
“We’ll put it aside for now. I need to get you patched up.” He stood and the mattress leveled off. “Let’s get you cleaned up and stitched.”
Her gaze followed the FLASH drive as he stuffed it into his front pocket. She watched his retreating backside as he shoved the envelope into another pocket and went into the bathroom. He really did have a very fine ass. She heard the ping of old pipes followed by the rush of water. A couple of minutes later, Lucas walked back into the room carrying gray-faded white towels and washcloths and plastic cups wrapped in plastic. After setting his paraphernalia on the bed beside her, he stood with his hands fisted on his hips staring at her.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.” Picking up the first-aid kit, he sat on the bed and opened it. From the white box marked with a red cross, he extracted a…silver flask? “Whiskey,” he answered her unasked question. “You need to drink some.” He eased her up and supported her back with one arm while tipping the container to her lips.
She swallowed then gasped as the liquid went down in a scorching trail to her stomach. “Jeez.”
“More.” Lucas did not give her an opportunity to argue, he just poured it into her mouth.
“Enough,” she wheezed. He laid her back down and damned if the room did not spin. A fuzzy glow shifted and swirled around Luke’s head. “Pretty,” she slurred, dragging fingers through his soft, dark hair.
Lucas cleared his throat. “You never could hold your liquor.”
“I beg—hic—your—hic—pard—hic.”
“I think you’re ready.” Hic.
Slapping a hand over her mouth, she attempted to stifle the uncontrollable sound. Her eyelids wanted to drift shut, but she forced them to stay open, stay alert. When she saw him take out a needle and thread that was no longer a problem. “I hate—hic—needles.” She groaned.
“Big baby.”
Her lower lip jutted out. Luke had another bottle in his hand. “What’s that?”
“Antiseptic wash. Hold on tight to me.”
“You—hic—wish.” Gilly grinned. Then she screeched and her nails dug into his leg as the liquid made contact with the wound. She bit down on her lip.
“You don’t have to be so tough.” His cool breath washed over the area and soothed. “You’re allowed to cry.”
The roughness of the cloth against her skin contrasted with the tenderness of Luke’s eyes. When he stopped washing, she once again saw the needle and tensed. He grinned at her, a flash of pure sex appeal that melted her insides. She sucked in air. The prick stung.
“Breathe,” he reminded her.
Gilly blew out the breath she held. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead and rolled over her ear. When she felt the tug of the thread, her fingers reflexively curled into fists.
“Relax. You’ll only make the pain worse.”
Was he kidding? If she hadn’t been incapacitated, she would have slugged him. Instead, she winced when he punctured her skin again. “Damn!” A tear slid down her cheek. “Can’t you do it any faster?”
“No.” He didn’t even bother to look at her or offer any sympathy. The bastard. “Shut your eyes and concentrate on something else.”
Easy for him to say. She rolled her head away, her gaze landing on a painting of dogs. She squinted. The dogs were smoking cigars, drinking, and playing poker. She choked back pain and laughter. What kind of hotel were they in?
Her eyes closed, she let her mind drift back to a time Lucas had taken her to another motel. One a little more upscale, without dog art. It had been their six-month anniversary. She met him at the house where he waited on the front porch, a suitcase at his feet. She remembered pulling into the drive and her heart dropping like a lead weight to her stomach thinking he had intended to leave her. When she stepped out of the car and looked into his face, the grin he wore, one of a cat after leaving its prey on the doorstep, brought her heart back into her chest. Before she reached the stairs, he swooped her up into his arms, spun her around, and planted an earth-shattering kiss on her lips. In that one kiss, her world had righted itself and at the same time flipped it completely upside down.
When he let her come up for air, the words tumbled out of her heart and her mouth. “I love you.”
Lucas stopped and stared at her. She thought it impossible for his smile to get any brighter, but she had been wrong. “I thought you would never say those three little words.” He kissed her again. His tongue invaded her mouth and her toes curled inside her shoes. Heat shot straight to her core. He broke the kiss and nuzzled her ear. “I love you, too.” Then he set her on her feet, left her shivering in the wake of his declaration, and picked up the suitcase.
He held a hand out to her and without hesitation, she placed her palm in his. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
The surprise had been a small, but beautiful motel in Kennebunkport, Maine, appropriately named The Hideaway. They spent the weekend doing just that. They hid away. They made love, ate, made love. Went for walks, made love, watched the sunset, and made love some more. Those three little words crossed her lips more easily and more often in that three-day weekend than she ever remembered since. She had loved him.
“This side is done.” Huh? She turned her head and blinked at Lucas. “Told you if you thought about something else you wouldn’t feel it.” His words broke into her thoughts and brought her back to reality. She had loved him. Then he broke her heart.
“Let’s get you rolled over so I can stitch the other side.”
Without a sound, she nodded and moved to flip onto her stomach. The tug and pain that shot through her stopped her and she flopped back.
“Don’t!” His sharp order came a tad late, she thought. “I can get you turned over without any help from you.”
He did just that. His strong arms slipped under her, lifted her slightly off the bedding, and then gently rolled her from her side to her stomach, supporting her the entire time.
“Go back to dreaming and it will be over quickly.”
She didn’t think she would be able to foc
us on anything but the pain, but at the first stick, her eyelids drifted shut.
FOURTEEN
Either from the liquor or the pain, before he finished stitching Maureen’s wound, she had passed out. He was grateful. The thought of causing her any more grief twisted his gut in knots. Right now, all he wanted to do was protect her and keep her safe from whoever shot at them and burned down the house. Shit!
He had to call Mickey. After quickly cleaning up the bed and laying a blanket over Gilly, he washed his hands then stepped outside and placed a call. The phone was answered after only one ring. “Where are you?”
Yeah, that was what he liked about his boss. Mickey cut right to the chase. “In a motel off the unbeaten path.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought it best to patch up Gilly’s bullet wound—”
“Bullet wound! Is she okay?” His boss was not always as unflappable as he led everyone to believe. When it came to the women he cared about, whether lover, friend, or employee, he did not take kindly to anyone hurting them. It was something Lucas admired and had in common with the man. “How the hell did that happen? Let me talk with her.”
“She is kind of indisposed at the moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s sleeping and I’m not about to wake her up so she can feel the pain again.” Lucas paced the cement in front of the room. “We do have a few issues that need to be dealt with.”
“Go ahead.” Mickey’s tone calm, but authoritative rang through the phone.
Good. “First, somebody torched that guy Jimmy’s brownstone.” The expletive his boss muttered didn’t ruffle his feathers. “That’s not all. There was a dead guy inside the freezer in the basement.”
“What dead guy?”
“According to Gilly, the dead guy inside the freezer was an engineer that worked for Jimmy on their project. We determined cause of death, a bullet to the chest, but not where or who shot him before glass started flying.” He tugged at his hair. “Hell, we were lucky to get out of there alive.” The vision of the bullet striking Maureen, her blood spraying, twisted him in knots. He should have protected her.
Never Tempt Danger Page 7
