Sweet Surrender: A MacKenzie Family Novella

by Liliana Hart

  “You fat bitch,” Caine said. “Did you really think you’d get away from me? Grant likes to put his women in danger. I think he has psychological issues, so I wouldn’t get too invested.” Caine smiled, and she was even more beautiful, but the insanity darkened it.

  Rage like nothing she’d ever known swept through Liza’s body, and she was hot all over. Other than driving her car into Richard’s house, she wouldn’t have considered herself a violent person. But she was feeling pretty violent at the moment.

  “Who are you calling fat?” she yelled back.

  Liza gripped the pistol and pointed it at Caine. The thick, rubberized custom-grip felt heavy yet conformed within her palm. She eased her finger through the trigger guard’s opening and settled it against the ridged curve of the short trigger.

  She pulled the trigger and a bullet pinged far to Caine’s right. Ceramics and a plate exploded off the bookshelf in the living room. Liza’s ears rang, and she hadn’t been expecting the kick from the gun. Her wrist was throbbing.

  Caine leapt back and away, but Liza didn’t stop. She continued to track her and ripped off another bullet, this one closer to the mark. They were doing a dance, Caine moving clockwise and Liza following her.

  She pressed her lips tight and squeezed the trigger again, this time into the pots and a black skillet that hung over the stove.

  “Fuck,” she yelled. They didn’t make it look so hard in the movies.

  She shot again, and this time the bullet embedded itself into the wall just a couple of feet from her nemesis. Liza’s eyes narrowed and she focused. This time when she pulled the trigger the bullet bounced against the top of the bulletproof window. The same window she’d opened earlier.

  Caine leapt through the open window and was gone just as Liza pulled the trigger one last time. But there was nothing but an empty click. She was out of bullets.

  “That’ll show you who’s fat,” she said.

  Chapter Eight

  “Open this damn door or I’ll blast through it,” Grant yelled.

  Liza stood frozen, the hot barrel smoldering in her hand. “Holy shit,” she said. “I’m like Annie Oakley.”

  “Liza,” Grant said, pounding his fist against the door.

  “Sorry,” she called out. “Coming.”

  She unlocked the deadbolt and Grant pushed through the door before she could open it for him. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his cheek against the top of her.

  “Jesus, woman. You scared the hell out of me.”

  “How’d she get past you?” she said, her body starting to shake uncontrollably.

  “She threw another flash-bang and laid down fire as she ran. Cooper’s going to be pissed. She shot through the windows downstairs. I’m not sure how she knew about the trapdoor that leads up here, but more than likely she was probably listening to us with a Bionic Ear or some kind of technology. It’s not hard to come by.”

  Liza gripped him harder. “Do you think she was listening to…everything?”

  “It’s probably best not to think about it.” He took the gun from her shaking hand and checked the magazine. “I don’t suppose you hit her?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “No, but I probably scared the hell out of her. I would’ve been better off throwing the damned thing at her. I’m sorry I let her get away.”

  “Don’t be sorry. We’ll get her. Let’s get you off that foot and take a look at it.”

  Her body shook uncontrollably and her teeth were chattering. If she’d closed her eyes in that moment, she thought she might have fallen asleep standing up. He helped her get settled in one of the chairs, and then he leaned in slowly to kiss her. It was so simple—just a kiss—and then his forehead rested against hers for a second. He went into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of ice before heading into the bathroom for the first-aid kit.

  They were both in need of patching up. Grant’s face was still covered in blood and it looked like he had some fresh wounds. She didn’t want to even think about what she looked like. Definitely not G.I. Jane material though.

  “You think she’s coming back?” she asked when he came back in with the supplies.

  “I think she’s close. But I don’t think she’ll come back up here. I closed the window, by the way. We’re secure for the moment. It’s more likely she’ll try to burn us out.”

  “Lovely,” she said, but she couldn’t muster up the strength to be more scared.

  He’d washed his face, but there were still cuts oozing blood. He didn’t seem to notice. But he handed her a medicated towelette to clean off the cut at her wrist, and then he knelt at her feet.

  “This is probably going to hurt like hell when I take your shoe off. It’s been keeping your ankle compressed. More than likely the swelling is going to go up.”

  “I don’t think it’s too bad,” she said, her hands turning to fists as he unknotted her laces and pulled very carefully at the shoe. “The more I walked on it the more it loosened up.”

  By the time he got both her sock and shoe off, she was shaking again and her cheeks were wet with tears.

  “Oh, baby. Don’t cry. I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.” His words were soothing and gentle, but she couldn’t seem to stop the tears.

  “I’m not crying because of that,” she said, sniffling loudly. Her foot wasn’t too terrible. It was discolored and a little swollen, and it’d probably keep her from wearing her favorite boots for a while, but she could live with it.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked as he started wrapping her foot in an ACE bandage, and then he stopped halfway and laid the bag of ice over the swollen area before he finished wrapping it.

  “I…I don’t know…why I’m crying,” she said, crying even harder. “I can’t help it.” Sobs wracked her body, and if she could’ve crawled into the nearest hole, she would’ve gone there gladly. She was mortified. “And now I’m crying because I’m embarrassed because I never cry. Do you think I’m crazy?”

  “No, I think you’re normal,” he said. “Though I did think you were a little crazy when you told me you drove through a man’s house, but I’ve reevaluated now that I’ve gotten to know you better.”

  She sniffed and laughed. “Good to know. I think that day was a culmination of years of pent up anger coming to the surface. Very un-Canadian of me.”

  “If it makes you feel better, you seem to be adapting to the American way of life pretty well. And what’s happening to you now is perfectly normal. I’ve seen the most hardened cop break down a hell of a lot worse than you just did. It’s all part of the experience. It’s just your body’s way of coping with the trauma.”

  He wrapped her in a soft blanket and then leaned in to kiss her again. “You did good, Carmichael.”

  Liza had never let herself get close to a man emotionally. She’d always had that fear that letting herself get in too deep would lead to disaster, like it had with her parents. She hadn’t really even loved Richard, and she certainly hadn’t had the connection with him where she felt comfortable bearing her soul. She’d always held part of herself in reserve.

  But she could feel that part of herself she’d walled off start to break down with Grant. Maybe because she hadn’t had a choice. The high-stakes circumstances had changed the game and made her reevaluate some things about her life. And the physical connection had only amplified the emotional connection. She was confused.

  Once they were bandaged and wrapped, Grant found a couple of bottles of water. She drank it down greedily. Grant went to check the back windows.

  “There’s no sign of her in the parking lot,” he said.

  He moved to the front window that overlooked Main Street. “I talked to Lane Greyson while I was in the bathroom getting supplies. He and a few others are putting the town on lockdown, going door-to-door and making phone calls. Hopefully we can spare innocent people from walking into this mess. I talked to Cooper again too, now that he’s not loopy with drugs, and he’s been in contact with MacKenzie Security. All
of the field agents are gone on a big assignment at the moment, so we’re kind of shit out of luck there.

  “Coop said he’s calling in favors, and they’re working on putting a task force together. But that takes time in this area, and Caine knows that. It’s mostly you and me, kid, until the cavalry arrives. The other deputies have their hands full making sure everyone else stays safe. She’ll strike before daylight and then get the hell out of town. If she doesn’t want someone to find her, they won’t.”

  “You’ve got a plan?” she asked.

  He smiled and said, “I’m going to scale out of the building through the roof. I’ll get your BMW and pick you up. We need to try and get to the MacKenzie compound. We’ll be safe there.”

  He reloaded her weapon and handed it back to her. Liza shook her head, feeling the panic claw inside of her. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m not Annie Oakley.”

  “You don’t have to be. All you have to do is make sure you protect yourself, and unloading a magazine full of ammunition at someone will accomplish that task.”

  “Right,” she muttered. “Just scare the hell out of her.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said. He handed her her purse, and she dug for the key fob to give to him. He turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm to pull him back.

  “Kiss me good-bye,” she said, the desperation in her voice unmistakable. She wasn’t stupid. She knew there was a chance Grant might not make it back to her.

  “It’s not good-bye,” he said. “I’m just going to get the car. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “A kiss,” she demanded. And then she hoisted herself up from the chair and hobbled toward him. He met her halfway, and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “And when you come back alive and we’re not being hunted by a maniac, I’m going to strip you naked and ride you until you can’t see straight.”

  He groaned and his fingers bit into her hips. She immediately felt the hardness of his cock against her stomach. Even with everything they’d been through that night, she wondered if there was time to feel him inside her one more time. The thought it might never happen again terrified her.

  Almost as if he’d read her mind, he kissed her hard, his tongue delving deep into her mouth.

  “I’ll be back,” he said. “Count on it. Listen for the beep of the car when it unlocks. Once you hear it, head downstairs and be ready to roll.”

  Grant pulled down the attic access panel stairs and climbed up. All of the shops on Main Street had roof access through the attic for safety reasons. He found the square window that led up to the roof and unlatched it, giving it a little extra shove since it had been a while since it had been used.

  The rush of cold air slapped his cheeks and dried out his eyes. If it hadn’t been dark, he would’ve been a sitting duck up there, waiting to be picked off. He lifted himself up and rolled so he lay flat on the roof. There was no sound, no explosion of gunfire. He belly crawled across the flat roof before dropping down onto the roof of Captured Moments Photography studio.

  Grant lay still and let his eyes and breathing adjust. The street awnings made it impossible to see if Caine was directly below him—he’d need a ladder down the backside of the row of buildings. He slithered across the studio’s roof and peeked over the backside. Nothing. He’d have to get over to the Mercantile building.

  The roof of the Mercantile was a half-level higher than Captured Moments, so he shoved his pistol into his jeans to climb the wall. He hated not having his gun immediately available. He sensed Caine’s presence, but he had to keep moving. Liza’s BMW wasn’t far away. They might even take a few bullets as they made their escape, but he knew there was no chance of survival if they stayed in Cooper’s place.

  His hands ached and the sharp edge of the Mercantile roof cut into his stomach as he hefted himself up and dragged himself over the edge. Grant grunted as he kicked his right leg up. He hooked his heel onto the flashing. It took everything he had left to hoist his body onto the elevated pitch. There was a break in the awning. All he had to do was get down and get across the street. That was when he’d be most vulnerable.

  Grant squatted at the ledge’s edge, letting the wind slap him in the face. He was exhausted, but there was still work to be done. He’d been through hell and back, but between Caine’s deadly cat-and-mouse game, and Liza’s tempting him with every thought, Grant looked forward to putting this nightmare behind him.

  He climbed down until he hung from the edge, and then dropped the rest of the way to the ground, staying crouched low and on the balls of his feet in case he needed to move quickly. He looked to his left and to his right. Both seemed clear. He yanked the 9mm out of his jeans and then fished the key fob from his pocket.

  Almost there.

  And then he felt the barrel of a weapon press into the back of his skull.

  “Tag, you’re dead,” Caine said.

  Chapter Nine

  “He’s taking too long,” Liza said to herself. The window was open just a crack, enough that she could hear, but there’d been nothing but silence. “Come on, Grant.”

  In all honesty, she wasn’t great at waiting. Waiting made her a nervous wreck. And the thought of Caine out there with Grant was driving her crazy. Caine could only watch one of them at a time, and Grant was by far the bigger threat. If he was in trouble, she’d be damned if she just sat there and waited for Caine to come pick her off.

  She dug in her purse for the spare key fob, and she shoved the pistol into the pocket of her sweatshirt. Or whoever’s sweatshirt she was wearing. Getting down the ladder was going to be the tricky part. Her foot was aching, and since she’d been off it for a bit it was starting to stiffen up.

  She’d been listening for the double beep that the car made when it was unlocked, but so far she’d heard a big fat lot of nothing. And she hadn’t seen him cross the street to the bakery side, where she’d parked the car. Liza knew that would be when he was most vulnerable, and maybe he was just biding his time, but her gut was telling her it was something else entirely. He’d had plenty of time to get down to ground level and make a break for it across the street.

  She opened the trapdoor that led downstairs and tried to hold back a whimper as she put pressure on her ankle.

  “Be tough, be tough,” she whispered over and over again.

  She felt the draft immediately at the back of the sheriff’s office, where Caine had opened fire on the cargo door and windows. Grant was right. Cooper was going to be pissed at the damage done.

  Since the hole was already made, she went out the back, taking the pistol from her sweatshirt and keeping it pointed at the ground. Her teeth chattered as she made her way around the side of the building until she stood at the outside corner of the sheriff’s office, directly facing the bakery.

  There was no sign of Grant, and she eased around the corner, looking both directions up and down the street. There wasn’t a soul. And part of her wondered if maybe he found another way of escape and had decided to leave her behind.

  “No, he wouldn’t do that,” she assured herself. Grant had a strict moral code. She’d known him less than twenty-four hours and already she knew that about him.

  The bitter bite of the March winds whipped hair across her face. She could see the shiny red Beemer from where she stood, still parked illegally at the side of the bakery. Thank goodness she’d parked out of range from the corner windows. No one would be able to see her get into the car unless they were standing with their face pressed against the glass and looking toward the parking lot.

  She was just about to take a leap of faith and head to the other side of the street when she heard the muffled sound of voices and jumped back so she was protected by the wall of the sheriff’s office.

  “Keep moving,” Caine said.

  Liza knelt down and tried to make herself invisible as she watched Grant being marched across the street, a gun to the back of his head. He looked entirely too calm for her peace of mind. Which meant he was probabl
y going to play the hero and get himself killed in the process.

  “Stubborn man,” she hissed, and then her own plan formed in her mind and she scooted around to the back side of the businesses along Main Street.

  The good thing about the street was that it was barely a block long. She hobbled past the photography studio, the Mercantile, the ice cream parlor, the bookstore, and the florist before she got to the opposite end of where she’d been. Caine and Grant were already inside the bakery, and she knew every second was precious, so she sucked in a deep breath and ran as fast as her ankle would allow across the cobbled street.

  Then she hobbled her way behind the buildings on the other side of the street until she saw the Beemer sitting there in the lot. She moved closer and chewed on her bottom lip, her finger hovering over the unlock button.

  “To hell with it,” she said and ran to the driver’s side door, hitting the remote start as she went.

  She waited until the quiet engine purred to life and then put her hand on the handle, the doors automatically unlocking. If she was lucky, Caine wouldn’t have heard a thing. If she was unlucky…well…it was best not to think of that.

  The leather seat molded around her aching body, and she cut the headlights off. Then she threw the car in reverse and headed back the exact way she’d come, only she pulled behind and to the far side of the library because there wasn’t a direct shot from the bakery to where she was sitting.

  The front light was on in the bakery and she could see the two of them in there through the corner window. The front windows had been boarded up by some kind soul. It didn’t look like Grant had much to say. Caine was doing all the talking and she looked to be getting more irritated by the second.

  The sky had turned a pearl gray at some point, but Liza could still see them clearly. What she didn’t know was if Caine would be able to see her once the sun was fully out.