by Dana Mentink
Lexie inhaled slowly, counting the seconds as they passed. He waited for a response, and she needed to give him one.
But the words refused to come. She buckled, and the emotions she’d held back for so many years burst forth and spilled over. Shaun closed the gap between them, wrapping his strong arms around her once again. How could she respond to a request like that? After everything she’d done to him in anger—blaming him for years, projecting her anger onto him—he’d been the wrong person all along. He’d tried to do the right thing. Here was a man who knew about honor and trust, and she’d given him neither.
“It’s not your fault,” Shaun murmured into her hair, his breath warming her chilled exterior. “I know you think it’s your fault because you made her go with you on the mission trip, but it’s not. Your sister had free will, and so did I. So do you. God allows free will so that we can make our own choices. It’s never been your fault, Lexie. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I’m sorry, Shaun,” she whispered into his shoulder. “I’ve been so angry at you all these years, but I forgot the very lessons I’d gone on that mission trip to learn in the first place. I hope you can forgive me.”
With a gentle laugh, Shaun smoothed his hand over her hair and kissed her forehead. “I already have.”
“I can’t give up on her.” Lexie hiccupped through her sobs. “I know Maria isn’t Nikki, but I can’t give up on her—on knowing what happened to her. God did, but I can’t.”
Shaun placed his hands on her cheeks, linking their gaze together like chains. “God never gave up on Nikki. Not once. And He’s never given up on you, either.”
It was a truth she knew from childhood, but how long had it been since she’d believed it? And yet, here was an undeniable case of redemption right in front of her. How could she have been so blind for so long? People changed, the same way she had. Only she hadn’t changed for the better. She’d allowed herself to become bitter and angry, blaming herself for something she had no control over and never would.
Life was too short to stay angry, to hold grudges. To say “later” or “can’t.” Who knew what would happen once they made their way out of this mess, if they ever did? What mattered was that they were here together, right now, in this moment. He cared deeply for her, she knew that—and somewhere, past the fear and the physical pain of the injuries of the past thirty or so hours, she cared for him, too. More than she’d been willing to admit. Her heart had been chained by anger for too long. And now, after so many years, the burden of anger and guilt, as heavy as a mountain, lifted from her shoulders.
She knew with firm certainty that she’d held back long enough. She tilted her chin upward, parted her lips and waited. Gently, and so tenderly, he took the invitation.
*
Shaun filled the empty space between them, knowing that this time, he wouldn’t pull away. This was no old memory. This was a new, here-and-now connection of two hearts that knew exactly what they wanted, despite the difficulties and danger.
Time had no meaning until the moment their lips parted, when an instant sense of loss enveloped Shaun.
Lexie drew a shaky breath. “We have terrible timing.”
Shaun threw his head back and laughed. Lexie joined in seconds later, and they giggled their lost years away until finally stopping to catch their breath. They rested their foreheads together, a small moment of peace amidst the hours of non-stop, hectic stress and danger.
Minutes ticked by, and while Shaun wished that he and Lexie could enjoy their moment of tranquility for a little while longer, the reality was that a madman still lurked about in the corners of the ship, searching for them.
“Do you think it’s safe?” Lexie pulled back, searching his face for answers. “How long should we stay here?”
“I was about to ask the same thing.” Shaun tucked a loose strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering on the soft skin behind her jaw. “We’re not in the clear yet, but if we just keep going the way we’re going, we’ll never know for sure.”
Lexie raised an eyebrow. “Are we still talking about the masked gunman?”
He shrugged. “You pick.”
They cracked another smile together, but Shaun noticed that Lexie had begun to tremble again. She’d warmed up enough to be out of immediate danger, but both of them needed medical attention to check for frostbite. “I know you’re going to try and shut me down on this, but we need to get you out of here right away. I’m going to make my way upstairs and bring the medical team here to retrieve you, okay?”
“Alone? No, I’m going with you.”
“Not this time.” He touched her feet and rubbed her toes. “Can you feel that?”
Lexie bit her lip. Clearly she didn’t want to tell him the truth. It was worse than he’d thought. “I can, but not well. My toes are still burning, but they don’t feel cold.”
“I don’t want to risk you walking. If you’re injured, you’ll only hurt yourself further—and on the off chance that the gunman is still searching these decks for us, you’re not going to be able to run. That said, I don’t think he’s close, or else he would have heard us by now.”
Lexie’s mouth curved into a tiny smile. “Guess we haven’t been all that quiet.”
“Not exactly.” Shaun rolled up into a crouch, checking his waistband to be sure that his gun was still tucked in place. “But if I’m out there moving around, I’ll be guaranteed to draw his attention away from here. We’ll move you to the corner of the room with the candles. You’ll have some warmth, but the light shouldn’t be visible from the doorway.”
Shaun kissed the back of her hand and moved the candles to the farthest corner. He hated the idea of leaving her here alone, but she really would be safer. He’d also try to find out why the power hadn’t been restored yet, and possibly get the lights turned on. Medical could bring a stretcher down and cart her off to someplace warm.
“What about you?” Lexie’s nervous smile intensified with worry, and she peeked over her shoulder at the empty doorway. “You were outside just as long as me, and I had a blanket. You can’t be feeling great, either.”
“I’m more accustomed to this kind of thing. I’ll be all right.”
Shaun found a few pillows in the cupboard where he’d found the candles, and tucked one behind her head so she could remain upright and comfortable. Several others he tucked around her back and sides.
“I’ll go as quickly as I can,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Keep quiet and I’ll be back in a jiff. If you hear anything out there, whatever it is, don’t come out. Stay here. I will come back for you.”
Lexie nodded, exhaustion plain on her face. What had he been thinking, dragging her into this? She’d had enough to deal with from that initial attack on the parking deck, and yet he’d gone and pulled her the rest of the way into this fight—a fight that wasn’t hers and shouldn’t be hers. Yet, if he hadn’t, they might not have spent all these hours together, and he never would have learned what a resilient and tender heart she possessed.
With a prayer that God would see him through this one way or the other, Shaun drew his gun, peeked around the corner and looked back at Lexie, sitting peacefully on the floor.
“I’ll be just a few minutes,” he said, mustering a weak smile.
“You’d better,” she said, a teasing sparkle in her tired voice. “If you think I’m going to let you disappear on me after that, you’re sorely mistaken.”
*
Shaun exited the room with a burst of speed, heading directly for where he assumed the stairs would be. With the main elevator out of the equation, he didn’t want to risk the maintenance elevator in case they were tied together on the same electrical system.
Despite the surrounding darkness, Shaun’s eyes had become conditioned enough to the near-absence of light that he maintained sure footing until he found the stairs. He threw open the door and took the steps three at a time, pushing his lungs to the point of exhaustion. He�
�d given Lexie the impression of being more certain of her safety than he actually felt, though she had to know that. The woman had a remarkable head on her shoulders. And soft lips, too.
Lips that, Lord willing, he’d be kissing again and again once this whole thing ended. He had at least a month’s worth of vacation time coming to him, and while he’d been planning to use it on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific, maybe he could hang around the rocky shores of Newfoundland for a few coffee dates with Lexie. If she was willing to spend time with him, of course.
Shaun blinked against the bright lights of the main deck, eyes aching at the shift after so many hours in darkness and silence. The air around him was anything but silent—noise and laughter filtered down the hall to where he stood. The sound came from the direction of the lounge, loud enough for Shaun to suspect that the room had filled with passengers evacuated from the affected areas on the lower decks…if there had even been passengers down there at all. The place had seemed deserted.
When he thought it through, it made sense, particularly if their pursuer wanted to be certain that the only casualties were himself and Lexie.
No passengers…because passengers would ask questions. Cause the ship to be shut down, maybe delay service while an investigation was underway to solve the crime. Customers would have to choose Atlantic Voyages’ competitor in the meantime. But an isolated incident with no witnesses? Much easier to shove under the rug or explain away.
That meant the Wolf’s identity matched that of someone invested in the ongoing success of this particular ferry service. Atlantic Voyages’ competitor must not be a viable option for criminal activities, which spun the compass directly toward the few people who could arrange things like GPS trackers in walkie-talkies or an extremely isolated bomb blast. Who had the authority to arrange for no passengers to be on the lower deck before the bomb went off? And why bother with such an elaborate scheme? Josh’s walkie-talkie had been missing, but pegging him as the Wolf? Josh didn’t fit the profile, but then, what did Shaun really know about the notorious criminal beyond the bare bones of how he conducted his operation?
The Wolf hadn’t escaped detection for a decade by allowing evidence to clearly point to his identity. He wasn’t a sloppy man by any means, and the missing walkie-talkie from Josh’s belt was an amateur mistake. Sure, they had the Wolf running scared, but that had been far too overt. Almost like a last-ditch effort at deflection.
Shaun rounded the corner to the security office, mind racing and hoping that Lexie wouldn’t have to sit alone in the dark much longer. He picked up speed and sprinted the rest of the way to Parsons’s office. Shaun gripped the corner of the door frame and came to an abrupt stop, startling the head of ferry security as he sat at his desk, typing on a computer.
“Parsons! My radio is toast. I need yours. We have to radio in medical and send them to deck three. Lexie’s hurt and she needs attention immediately.”
Parsons jumped up from his desk, quickly shifting papers around with a look of utter shock on his face. “Lane! We thought—I mean—the bomb! And then we didn’t hear from you. The woman, is she…”
“Lexie’s okay, she just needs help.” Now that he’d stopped moving, Shaun’s lungs had caught up to him. He doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. “And she needs it fast. Might be frostbite. The sooner we get medical to her, the less likely she’ll be to lose a finger or toe.”
Parsons frowned and grabbed a handful of papers off his desk, shoving them into a drawer that he locked with a key on his belt. “You all right, son? You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”
“Lexie.” Shaun wheezed, drawing deep breaths. “Go ahead. I’ll find the other guys and let them know what’s going on. I assume they’re dealing with fallout from the blast?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll deal with Lexie. Don’t worry. Third floor, you said?”
“In the prayer chapel.” Shaun released a deep breath, his lungs finally starting to calm. “Have medical bring a stretcher. She’s feisty, but she’s weaker than she’ll let on. Probably try to run a marathon tomorrow if we let her.”
“Roger.” Parsons pulled a walkie-talkie from a wall mount and handed it to Shaun as he headed out the door. “You need a sec?”
“Yeah. I’ll shut the door behind me, don’t worry.” With a grunt, Parsons sauntered off, a little less speed in his step than Shaun would have liked. He stood a little straighter to call after the man and reiterate the need for expediency. “Say, Parsons—” Shaun’s words froze in his throat as his gaze swept across Parsons’s office. In the far corner of the room, on the top shelf next to a tackle box and a rusty-looking dive helmet, sat a display box of antique hunting knives.
That’s not so strange, Shaun thought, shaking off the immediate alarm. Plenty of people keep antiques. Having it placed on a shelf next to old gear only told him Parsons was sentimental, not a criminal. If it was a crime to own old wilderness equipment, someone should have arrested Shaun’s father a long time ago.
Shaun chastised himself for wasting time with absurd speculation. He needed to be on the move, find the other guys and figure out how to confront Josh regarding his suspicions. Shaun reached in to grab the door handle, pulled the door halfway shut and froze again. Directly across from him, peeking out of the top of the drawer Parsons had just shoved papers into and locked, was a slip of red.
With his visual acuity honed through years of training, the flash of color stood out to Shaun in an otherwise understated but messy room. It looked as if something inside the drawer had been displaced when Parsons shoved his handful of papers inside. Shaun released his hold on the door handle and stepped into the office, light-headedness creeping up his spine and into his skull.
Using two fingers, Shaun grasped the red paper. It was firm and stiff. Like a folder. He tugged on it, hearing the sound of tearing from inside the drawer. The drawer had locked, but the lock was now jammed on the folder. No problem. What kind of CIA agent would he be if he didn’t know how to pick a simple lock?
It took all of thirty seconds for Shaun to open the drawer and pull out the folder. He realized with surprise that his hands were trembling. Inside his gut, he knew exactly what would be inside this folder once he opened it—but he desperately hoped he was wrong, because if this folder was what he thought it might be, he’d been very, very wrong this whole time.
It took a fraction of a second to confirm his suspicions. Instantly, all the pieces fell into place. With a burst of adrenaline, Shaun raced through the door to follow Parsons—only to find himself nearly face-to-face with Reed.
“We need to find Lexie,” Shaun shouted as he ran full tilt toward Reed. “She’s in—”
Reed’s arm shot out, clotheslining Shaun as he tried to run past. Shaun tumbled to the floor, clutching his throat. He rolled and came up in a crouch, but the combination of shock and surprise had thrown him off his game, putting Reed in an advantageous position. Shaun reached behind him to grab his gun, only to see it lying on the floor three feet away. It had fallen out of his belt when he went down—and Reed saw it, too.
A million scenarios swept through Shaun’s brain, but only one of them left him alive at the end. Rather than take Reed on in a diving match for the gun, Shaun rushed his opponent, fist ready to swing, but being clotheslined had lowered his reaction time.
Reed landed the first punch, and Shaun’s vision faded to darkness.
SEVENTEEN
Lexie shivered in the candlelit prayer room. She wasn’t blind—she’d seen the fear on Shaun’s face. He worried that she’d lose a finger or toe after being outside for too long, and Lexie couldn’t blame him. But after the way he’d kissed her and told her it would be okay, she believed him. Despite everything that had happened so far, he still trusted in God’s ultimate control. She didn’t know if she’d take it quite that far just yet…but she was working on it. Actively. Like, right now.
A soft rustle in the hallway sent alarm bells ringing. Could that b
e Shaun? When the rustle stopped and no further sound came, her heart skipped a beat. No, not Shaun. Suddenly, the light from the candles seemed overwhelmingly bright. Surely someone would be able to see that from the doorway. She should snuff them out.
With aching fingers, Lexie picked up the candles one by one and blew them out with a quick huff, her lips as close to the flames as she could get them without burning. The smell of extinguished flame wafted through her corner of the room.
Seconds later, the rustle returned. The footsteps were more distinct this time. Lexie held her breath as they came closer and closer.
A bright light shone from the doorway into Lexie’s face, and she squinted up into it. Not Shaun, but at least whoever had the light hadn’t shot her on sight.
“Miss Reilly,” said a familiar voice. “There you are. I hear you’re injured?”
Who was it? She couldn’t see past the light. “Yes…did Shaun send you?”
“Not exactly.” The beam of light moved off her face, allowing her to see clearly around the gleam. Josh stood in the doorway, flashlight in one hand and stun gun in the other, the latter pointed directly at her. “But I suggest you come with me. I’m afraid I won’t take no for an answer.”
Lexie hauled herself to her feet, wincing at the ache in her leg. She’d been so cold, she’d forgotten all about the bullet that had grazed her leg while she and Shaun were on the run. “I’m not going anywhere without Shaun. He’ll be back at any second, and he’s bringing the rest of security with him.”
To her surprise, instead of capitulating, Josh only laughed. “He thinks so, does he? Then that should make the next few minutes very interesting. Come on, out of the room. No funny stuff.”
