Hard Ever After

by Laura Kaye

  They jogged toward the truck, Nick’s gaze doing a constant scanning circuit as they moved. He got Becca into the truck’s backseat, shut her door, and moved to his own—­which was when his eye caught it. A glint of morning sun off metal. There at the corner of the building.

  Nick opened the passenger door just in time, the report of the gunfire reaching his ears only a second before the round pinged off the door. Close. Too damn close. He dove into the cab. “Go, go!”

  “Fuck!” Shane punched the accelerator and pulled the truck into a hard U-­ey. Another round hit the back quarter panel.

  “Get down, Becca,” Nick said as he reached for the Glock at the small of his back. But she was way ahead of him, tucked in a ball on the floor behind his seat. He didn’t have a clear shot of anything, especially with chaos already breaking out around the ER’s entrance as ­people dove for cover and the ­couple of on-­site police officers rushed into defensive positions.

  In what felt like long minutes but was only a few seconds, they were clear of the area. Shane ran a red light to get them away from the hospital altogether.

  Twisting in his seat, Nick looked out the cab’s rear window. “Watch for a tail.”

  “On it,” Shane said. “You need to alert the team, Vance, Chen.”

  “Yeah,” Nick said, but first he needed to check on Becca. Christ, every reassurance he’d offered the past week had just been blown to shit. His gut was a wreck, his mind unhelpfully crafting one horror story after another about what might’ve happened if Chen hadn’t called. Or if Nick hadn’t returned to the hospital immediately. Or if Coleman hadn’t been able to pull Becca off the floor. “Becca, are you okay?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, her voice shaky. When she looked up at him, her skin was ashen.

  He reached back and clutched her hand as he dialed Marz.

  “Yo, hoss, wassup?” Marz said.

  “We’ve got a situation,” Nick said, filling him in. “Let everyone know what’s going on. And if you have a chance, scan the security feeds around our neighborhood looking for anything potentially suspicious. We’ve been keeping an eye out for the wrong damn car.”

  “You got it,” Marz said.

  Nick had just hung up when his cell rang again. Chen. Nick put it on speaker.

  “I heard about the hospital. You okay?” Chen asked by way of a greeting. Nick wasn’t surprised that Chen had information that was only minutes old.

  “Yeah, we’re in one piece,” Nick said. “But it was fucking close. Too close.”

  “Damnit. Wanted to let you know we have a lead on where Woodson’s been staying. Putting together a raid for tonight as we speak.”

  “Well there’s a bit of good news,” Nick said. “You need backup?”

  “No, you stay hunkered down. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

  “I need you to take this guy out,” Nick said, anger lancing through the words. If it had just been him in danger, it would have been one thing. But now it was Becca. Now it was his family. And that was a whole other goddamned thing. “I need this situation to go the fuck away.”

  “I hear you,” Chen said. “And I’m working on it.” He clicked off.

  “If anyone can take care of this, Chen can, right?” Becca asked from the backseat. A little color had returned to her cheeks.

  “Yes,” Nick and Shane both said at the same time.

  When they got back to Hard Ink, Marz had everyone else assembled and briefed in the big unfinished space across from their apartment that was part gym, part war room. It was where they’d run the whole of their investigation against the Church Gang and the mercenaries who’d killed Becca’s father and smuggled heroin from Afghanistan into Baltimore. Nick wasn’t thrilled at all about the similarity of this meeting to the many they’d held during the investigation they’d thought was done. Closed. Behind them once and for all.

  Except it wasn’t. Because sometimes the past wouldn’t fucking die.

  “Chen’s ­people think they’ve discovered where Woodson has been holing up. They’re going after him tonight. His actions at the hospital demonstrate his intention to get revenge, so until we hear from Chen, we’re back on lockdown again. I don’t want anyone leaving the building today,” Nick said.

  “What if they don’t get him?” Becca asked from where she sat on a folding chair near Marz’s improvised desk.

  The other team members traded looks with Nick. “I don’t know the answer to that yet,” Nick said.

  Becca nodded. “Do we need to think about postponing the wedding?”

  The question was like a punch to the gut, especially because he’d been asking himself the same thing. Fuck. “Not yet,” Nick said. A bleak sadness filled Becca’s baby blues, and the fact that this scumbag had managed to hurt her yet again lanced boiling hot rage through his blood. Enough was efuckingnough.

  The meeting broke up, and the day crawled by like an inchworm moving in reverse.

  Nick spent hours worshipping every inch of Becca’s body, hoping to keep them both distracted from everything that was at stake as long as he could. The women made six batches of homemade chocolate chip cookies. They watched movies until they were all cross-­eyed. And still it wasn’t time for the raid.

  Finally, a little after ten o’clock, Nick’s cell rang with a call from Chen. The devastating news was that they’d apprehended a number of former Churchmen—­but Woodson hadn’t been among them.

  “Well, what’s next?” Nick barked into the phone. “This guy came after Becca three times. He’s not going to stop.”

  “I know, Nick,” Chen said. “We’re interrogating the Churchmen we brought in. We’ll find him.”

  But how fast would they find him? And would Chen find Woodson before Woodson found Becca again?

  Because Nick would never survive if something happened to the only woman he’d ever loved.

  Chapter Ten

  CHEN SHOWED UP at Hard Ink Friday morning. His ­people still hadn’t caught Woodson. And Becca was beside herself. She couldn’t believe . . . so many things. That Woodson was back. That they might have to cancel the wedding. That maybe she really had seen Woodson some of the times she’d chalked it up to her imagination.

  The whole group gathered in the gym, and Chen sat in the middle of them, wearing his usual, nondescript khaki pants and light blue button-­down. Chen wasn’t his real name, but it was the only one they knew him by—­the one that had been on the nametag fastened to the stolen doctor’s coat Chen had been wearing the first time Nick had seen him. They’d been at the hospital where Jeremy and Kat had been treated after the funeral.

  “I have a proposal for dealing with Woodson,” Chen said, scanning the group and finally settling his gaze on Nick and Becca.

  “Let’s hear it,” Nick said.

  “I get the word out on the street that Becca is going to be at the restaurant tonight for her rehearsal dinner. We lure Woodson to us rather than wait for him to come at you.” Chen’s matter-­of-­fact words hung there for a long moment.

  “No,” Nick said. Just as matter-­of-­factly.

  This wasn’t the first time it had ever been proposed that they use Becca as bait. Nor was it the first time Nick had reacted negatively to the idea. “Nick, Becca said.”

  “No, Becca. We’ve been there, done that, and you got hurt,” he said. The fierce protectiveness in his gaze made her love him even more.

  “I know, but the last time, we also caught Woodson and got information out of him that saved Charlie’s life. So it worked,” she said. Tension hung so thick in the room you could cut it with a knife. “The alternative is that we cancel the wedding, stay shut up inside the building, and wait it out, right?”

  Chen nodded. “We will get him. It’s a matter of when, not if.”

  “I believe you,” Becca said. “But when kinda matters a lot right
now. The wedding can be rescheduled if we need to, of course, but none of us wants this hanging over our heads. If we can end it tonight, let’s end it.”

  “I agree,” Kat said, looking at Nick with sympathy in her eyes.

  “So do I,” Beckett said. “We’ll all be there. We’ll all be armed. Nothing’s going to happen to Becca or anyone else.”

  “And my team will be there,” Chen said.

  “Is this what everyone thinks?” Nick asked, his voice like gravel. He crossed his arms and surveyed the group. Nods and affirmatives all around. “Fuck. Then what’s the plan? Because I want it to be goddamned foolproof.”

  For the next hour, the guys strategized. Chen had brought plans for the Italian restaurant where they were scheduled to go, as well as a big map of the surrounding streets and alleys. He’d arranged to have surveillance on the restaurant starting immediately, to make sure no one arrived early and found a place to lay in wait. When they were done, Chen put in calls to his undercover contacts to get the word out. He was apparently confident enough in the way information moved within and between gangs to think that the word would make it to Woodson in time if in fact he was actively looking for her. Worst-­case scenario, it didn’t, and he didn’t show. And then they were right back to square one, but no further behind.

  After Chen left, Becca turned to Nick, where they were all still gathered in the gym. “I want to be armed tonight.”

  “Me too,” Kat said.

  Nick and Beckett traded a look, but then Nick nodded. “Everyone who’s comfortable handling a weapon should be armed. I want redundancies on top of redundancies where safety is concerned. And for the record, I fucking hate this.”

  Becca wrapped her arms around Nick and laid her head against his chest. “I do, too. But I hate being scared more.”

  Nodding, Nick said, “I’ve got a few calls I want to make. But then I’ll be wrapped up here.”

  “Okay,” Becca said. “Maybe I’ll go throw together some lunch for everyone.” Staying busy was the best way to keep from going crazy. At least, it had worked for her during the team’s investigation. No reason why it shouldn’t now.

  “I’ll help,” Emilie said.

  “Me too,” Sara said.

  In the end, all four women made their way back to the apartment with Becca, and she appreciated the silent show of support. She really did. They decided on tacos, and everyone got to work chopping veggies and browning the meat. Emilie apparently made a mean spicy Spanish rice, so she took charge of that.

  As Becca stood at the stove, the whole thing suddenly crashed over her like a tidal wave. The shooting at the hospital. Knowing everyone would be in danger tonight. The prospect of facing Woodson again—­for real this time. “Can you watch this?” Becca asked Emilie, laying down the big spoon with which she’d been stirring the ground beef. “I’ll be right back.”

  She rushed down the hallway and ducked into Kat’s sometimes-­room rather than her own—­the one she shared with Nick. First, because she wanted to be alone in case Nick returned from making his calls. Second, because her wedding gown was in this room, hanging on the outside of the closet door. Luckily, they’d picked up their dresses from the bridal boutique before the lockdown had started, and now it was here waiting for her.

  For whenever Nick and Becca were finally able to get married. Because her gut told her it wasn’t going to be tomorrow.

  Becca sagged down onto the edge of the mattress, her gaze drinking in the gleaming white satin and the sparkling beadwork at the waist. Her lip quivered and her eyes pricked, but she wasn’t giving in to tears. She was done crying. Now she was just fucking angry.

  It doesn’t matter, Becca. The wedding is just one day in a forever that lasts the rest of your life. It’s just one day.

  And it was. She knew it. But their love had overcome big obstacles—­Nick’s initial belief that her father had betrayed him, sophisticated and numerous enemies, multiple attempts on their lives. What they had was hard-­fought and well-­earned. They deserved a day of celebration and happily ever afters.

  Two soft knocks sounded against the door.

  Becca straightened her back, took a deep breath, and said, “Come in.”

  “Hey,” Kat said, leaning in the doorway. “Can I join you?”

  “It’s your room,” Becca said with a small smile.

  Kat shut the door and sat down on the bed next to Becca. “It really is an amazing gown. Nick is going to swallow his tongue when he sees you in it.”

  It might’ve been the first time all day Becca smiled. “I am looking forward to seeing him see me in it for the first time.”

  Grasping her hand, Kat nailed her with that Rixey stare. “You just have to hang in for a few more hours. This is almost over.”

  “I know,” Becca said. “I know. But is it bad that I want to be the one to end this asshole’s life once and for all? I just want to see the consciousness bleed out of his eyes so I can know it’s over for good.”

  “Not even a little bad,” Kat said. “You guys deserve a happily ever after.”

  Becca chuffed out a humorless laugh. “We all do. But sometimes I’m afraid all we’re going to get is . . . a hard ever after. You know?”

  Kat’s gaze was full of determination. “This guy’s going down one way or the other, Becca. And besides, a hard ever after sounds like it could be good to me. I mean, you know, hard can be good.”

  That eked a smile out of Becca, and that smile turned into a chuckle. “Yeah, hard can be good.”

  “No,” Kat said, grinning now. “Hard is good. Really fucking good.”

  It was stupid and childish and ridiculous, but as the hard jokes started flowing out of them, they descended into outright crying giggles and really unattractive snorting that was a helluva better release than tears could ever be.

  “Thank you,” Becca finally managed. “I really needed that.”

  “Good. Now come on, let’s go eat.” Kat pulled her up from the bed.

  “I’ll catch up,” Becca said. “Need to use the bathroom.” She headed back toward her room, passing Shane and Sara’s on the way. Their door was open, and something caught Becca’s eye. She stepped back to the opening and peered in at Shane’s big medic case just inside the doorway. Becca shut herself inside the room, knelt, and opened the lid to the case.

  When her gaze finally landed on a bottle of injectable diazepam, an idea came to mind. Nick wanted redundancies upon redundancies; well, this certainly fit. And given that Woodson had gotten his hands on her twice before, she wanted a way to hurt him up close if it happened again. Without letting herself question what was probably a totally useless idea, she filled a syringe with a dose guaranteed to induce sleep in a man Woodson’s size. Quickly, she put everything away and tucked the syringe into the pocket of her dress, which hung in Nick’s closet. No one even had to know the syringe was there.

  One thing was for sure, Becca Merritt was done feeling like a victim. She was ready to fight for this life she wanted, once and for freaking all.

  THEY ARRIVED AT the inn early for the rehearsal. Before Becca even stepped foot out of the stretch Hummer, Nick wanted to take a look around and discuss a plan with the security he’d brought in extra for the rehearsal. This was the same team who’d be running things at the wedding, so they already understood the nature of the threat from when he’d met with them earlier. To add another layer of security, Chen had arranged to put agents from his detail at either end of the long block on which the inn sat, providing an effective roadblock and a defensive perimeter.

  It was all likely overkill. Nick knew it was. The bait would lure Woodson to the restaurant, not here. Hell, they hadn’t even published a wedding announcement, so the details of their arrangements could only be known by ­people with whom they’d shared invitations.

  When he was satisfied, he opened the door to the ladies�
� limousine. “Let’s practice us a wedding,” he said with a smile. He might be tense as hell inside, but he didn’t want to do anything—­well, anything more than what had to be done—­to take away from the joy of the occasion. Becca deserved a happily ever after, and Nick was determined to give her one. No matter what it took.

  Becca stepped out of the limo in a stunning long blue dress that made the color of her eyes almost glow. She adjusted the long decorative chain of her purse on her shoulder. He’d given her a small handgun that would fit the bag, and even though she knew how to use it—­thanks to her father—­Nick really fucking hoped she never had to. But he couldn’t have agreed more that she should have the protection on her. It was always wise to be prepared for a snafu, that was for damn sure.

  Sonya greeted them at the gatehouse and guided the group of them inside. The first floor of the inn was where the cocktail party immediately after the ceremony would take place while they were taking wedding photographs. A tall round table filled with champagne flutes stood in the center of the floor. “Please help yourself while you wait for the minister to arrive.”

  “Do you want to see the upstairs where we’ll hold the reception?” Becca asked the women.

  Even though the security team had assured them that the house had been locked up tight all day, with no one coming or going until they and Sonya had arrived to open up for their rehearsal, Nick wasn’t comfortable letting Becca go alone. In the end, everyone went along for the tour. It really was a nice place. The kind of place where happy memories were made. Nick wanted that for Becca. For both of them.

  They didn’t have to wait long for the chaplain to arrive. Nick didn’t know the man personally, but Thomas McAdams was a military chaplain who was a friend of a friend, which was how they’d managed to book him on such short notice. Nick guessed that McAdams was not much older than he was, and the chaplain seemed eager and interested and kind. Nick immediately liked him.