No Chance

by Christy Reece

  “Are you okay?”

  After what she’d been through, she could ask him that? He held out his arms and Skye flew into them. Holding her close, he said a prayer of thanksgiving that she was safe.

  “Everyone okay?”

  Keeping Skye at his side, Gabe turned to Cole. “About as well as we can be. Did you find Kendra?”

  “Yeah. She’s in a room upstairs. She’s pretty out of it.”

  “Anyone else around?”

  “No. There were only three men and a woman upstairs. None of them the bodyguard type. More the weasel type. One of them was the photographer.”

  Skylar pulled away from Gabe’s arms. “We need to get these girls some help.”

  They all turned to look at the young girls who were now all huddled together on one bed. Arms around each other, they formed a small, sad group. But they were alive. And now they would be free.

  “Our backup is coming in. Authorities have already been called. I’ll go back and check on Kendra,” Cole said.

  Taking some plastic ties from his pocket, Gabe headed to Harrington. “I’ll tie the scumbag up.” He turned to Skye. “Why don’t you see if the girls will talk to you?”

  Skylar turned and looked at the young girls. What could she say to them to make them feel better? It would take years of therapy for them to overcome what they’d been through.

  She heard Cole stomp up the stairs. She began to walk to the girls and then stopped at the sound of an odd noise … like a soft grunt. Skylar turned. Time went into slow motion.

  William was back on his feet and holding a gun. He stood over Gabe, who was slumped down on his knees. Skylar saw blood pouring onto the floor. Somehow he had injured Gabe. And by the expression on William’s face, he had every intention of finishing Gabe off with the gun.

  Her only thought being to save the man she loved, Skylar dove for the gun lying only a few feet away from her. Harrington looked up at the movement. In one fluid move, Skylar grabbed the gun, rolled onto her knees, and pointed it at Harrington. Without hesitation, she fired.

  Harrington dropped the gun and clutched his chest where the bullet hit. He fell face-first onto the floor.

  With a sob, Skylar ran to Gabe. Pulling him up to face her, she let out a small scream. Blood poured from his throat. He’d been stabbed … an artery. Oh sweet God, an artery.

  “Cole!” Skylar screamed.

  Cole was beside her in seconds. He shouted for someone to bring him a towel. Skylar never looked up as she kept pressure on the gushing blood pouring from Gabe’s throat. His eyes were closed. She didn’t know if he was conscious. She only knew one thing, she could not lose him again. Please God, not again.

  “Lift your hand, Skylar. I’m going to press the towel down and try to slow the bleeding.”

  Her hand pressed against the wound, Skylar couldn’t let go. If she did, even for a second, she would lose him. She couldn’t lose him. Not again.

  “Let go, Skylar.”

  Cole’s even, cool voice calmed her. She lifted her blood-soaked hand and watched Cole apply pressure. In the background, she heard someone talking on the phone. Were they calling an ambulance? Would it be too late?

  “Skylar. Look at me.”

  Raising terrified eyes to Cole, she said the only thing she had in her mind. “Please don’t let him die.”

  “He’s not going to die. The gash is deep. Looks like it nicked an artery but it’s not severed. We just need to get him to a hospital. Okay?”

  Her head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds as she tried to nod. She could not lose Gabe. Not now. Not again.

  twenty-eight

  Ten days later

  Dressed in a tailored black suit, her hair pulled back at her nape, Skylar looked appropriately somber as she walked out of the police station. She had just given another statement, hopefully her last, on the death of one of the city’s most prominent citizens.

  Despite her name recognition, city officials were not happy with how things had developed. It was a media nightmare and every television station around the world had reported on the famous Skylar James shooting and killing the powerful and wealthy William Harrington III. The circumstances were sordid, which made the press love it all the more.

  William’s employees had been rounded up and were going through extensive questioning. It was everyone’s hope that the extent of Harrington’s business could be gathered from them and all of his victims over the last ten years identified. Gathering this information would have been easier if William had lived. And while Skylar regretted that his death made the investigation more difficult, she refused to feel guilty for killing the perverted bastard. Hopefully, he was in hell enjoying all the rewards he so richly deserved.

  Margo Harrington and her children had retreated to their vacation home in Portugal. Margo claimed to not know about William’s illegal activities. Skylar would have liked to believe that was true, but wasn’t so sure. On leaving the police station earlier in the week, she’d passed by Margo. Since she’d had no idea what to say to the woman, she had just looked at her. The expression on Margo’s face indicated antipathy and hatred, but absolutely no shame for what her husband had done. William had said that his family would understand why he did what he did. Perhaps he was right.

  Exhaustion tore at Skylar from every angle. The young girls William had held were being treated at a privately funded women’s health clinic. Kendra was there, too. All the girls were not only traumatized, but also suffering from various addictions and malnutrition. They would require extensive care and counseling. Somehow, Skylar thought that Kendra might need it more than any of them.

  Kendra still hadn’t spoken to Skylar. Wouldn’t even look her in the eye. And even though Skylar understood why, it still hurt so much. She had introduced that monster to Kendra. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know what he was. She’d brought Kendra to his attention and for that she would never forgive herself.

  The counselors had said Kendra needed time. Skylar understood, but God, it still hurt so much.

  “Hey, Skylar, are they going to charge you with anything?”

  “Skylar, look over here. Did you know William Harrington was a pervert?”

  A small pocket of reporters gathered around her at the bottom of the steps. She had successfully avoided them for days. And had hoped with her dark glasses and somber dress, she could escape their attention once more. It wasn’t to be.

  “Are you and Ben getting back together? Didn’t he visit you yesterday at your apartment?”

  If her mouth didn’t feel so frozen with pain, she would have smiled at the question. The reason Ben had come by would be laughable if it didn’t infuriate her so much. His “Gabe sent me to make sure you were all right” almost got him a punch in the face.

  When she’d asked the obvious question, “Why the hell doesn’t Gabe find out for himself?” he’d grimaced and had been stubbornly silent.

  Ben was the fifth person Gabe had sent to make sure she was “all right.” First there had been Cole, who’d assured her he was merely following orders to make sure she was eating and sleeping.

  Then, of all people, her father had come by, again at Gabe’s request. Seemed that her dad was now warming up to his son-in-law. Not only had Gabe saved his daughter’s life once again, but her father was seriously reconsidering his opinion on a lot of things. After all, his best friend, the man he’d known for years, had been a human trafficker and sexual predator. Jeremiah James’s faith in his own judgment had been shaken to the core.

  Then, just this morning, Noah McCall and his wife, Samara, had come by … with Micah, their beautiful little boy.

  Noah and Samara had perhaps been the most helpful, though still not as forthcoming as Skylar needed. While Micah dozed on the couch, his head propped on Noah’s thigh, Samara had explained that Gabe had issues to resolve. And that each person at LCR, at some point, had to deal with them in their own way.

  Issues? What was she? Chopped liver?

>   All the people Gabe had sent to check on her had been kind. All had been helpful. But none had told her what was going on or where Gabe had gone. It had taken every bit of her stamina not to scream at them: If Gabe Maddox is so concerned for his wife, then why the hell doesn’t he come see for himself?

  If only she knew where the man was, she’d … what? What would she say to a man who’d made her love him all over again and then once again abandoned her? “Go to hell” didn’t seem appropriate—she’d only run into him because she was already there.

  For four days she’d sat by his bedside. Four days when, because of his blood loss, along with two cracked ribs, a partially collapsed lung, and a dislocated shoulder, she hadn’t been sure he would make it. The doctors had assured her he would. She hadn’t believed them. She’d needed to see for herself.

  And then, when she’d gone home for a few hours to change clothes and grab a nap, what had he done? He’d woken, discharged himself against doctor’s orders, and disappeared. Without one word to her … he’d disappeared.

  “Come on, Skylar. Give us some news! What did Ben come see you about? Are you going to get back with him? What about that real estate man, Gabe Maddox? Did you two break up? What happened?”

  And finally she’d had enough. After years of allowing inappropriate, stupid questions, putting up with these people hounding her day and night, taking photographs, nosing into her business for no good reason other than a story they could sell for their own benefit, it was just too much.

  Her eyes roamed the four photographers and five reporters who shouldered one another as they tried to get the best spot. She zeroed in on one of the reporters. The one who was always following her, always asking the rudest questions.

  When she began to advance toward him, his expression was one of excitement. But it quickly changed to fear. She could see the questions in his eyes. After all, she’d recently killed one of the wealthiest and most influential men in the country. Maybe she wasn’t completely sane.

  Skylar stopped within inches of the man’s face. She was well aware that the photographers were snapping shots left and right. She couldn’t stop that, but she could damn well turn the table on the questions.

  Hands on her hips, she snarled, “What gives you the right to ask me about my life?”

  His cocky bravado no longer apparent, the man swallowed audibly and said, “The people want to know.”

  “What people?”

  “The public.”

  “And what right do they have to know about what goes on in my private life?”

  “Well … I … they …” He swallowed again. “You’re a public figure.”

  “And that gives you the right to ask anything you want?”

  “Well … I …” The man glanced around for help, but his gaze only met faces that looked as astonished as he did.

  “Let me ask you a few questions. Are you married? Do you sleep around? What did you have for dinner last night? Are you breaking up with your girlfriend?”

  Gabe stood a few yards away from the small group of astounded reporters and photographers and enjoyed the show. Never in his life had he seen a more beautiful, exciting, or wonderful woman than this lovely creature he was married to. How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

  He knew she would be furious with him. She had every right. But during the time when he had been locked up in that hellhole of Harrington’s, he’d faced some home truths. Every man has defining moments in his life. Moments that change, reshape, and re-form opinions about life and about himself. Gabe had thought he’d had his share.

  Lying beside his dying brother and father in a collapsed mine. Being held captive in a foreign prison and treated like an animal. Those two events had hardened and toughened him, but they hadn’t been the mind-altering, soul-shattering experience he’d had in Harrington’s vault. Not knowing if Skye was alive or dead … if he would ever see her again … had transformed him.

  Rarely does life give another chance. In the eight years since he’d been separated from Skye, despite his inability to end it completely, Gabe had believed there was no chance in hell for them.

  But in those moments of stark terror for Skye, Gabe had questioned everything and had come up with one definitive truth: he loved Skylar James with a depth he hadn’t known existed. Nothing else mattered but that. And if given another chance, he would do everything within his power to save her, make her his, and be with her for all eternity.

  When he’d woken in the hospital, he’d known there were things he had to put to rest before he could come to her a whole man. So, despite the doctor’s strong discouragement and the knowledge that Skye would be hurt, he’d left to get those things done.

  And now it was time for a new chapter. A very long chapter and one he planned to spend the rest of his life on, perfecting, refining, and thanking God he’d been given another chance to make it right.

  Now he just needed to see if Skye was going to give it to him.

  He sauntered over to the small group, where Skye was continuing her tirade on the right of people to be informed versus the right of privacy. The stupefied faces that surrounded her told him they’d stand there all day and listen to her. She’d even collected a few passersby who’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared, seemingly mesmerized.

  Poor Skye probably thought they were learning a well-needed lesson. But Gabe had seen that expression on men’s faces before. Hell, it was on his face every time he looked at this beautiful woman. Fascination and adoration. Awe. These people were loving the hell out of being this close to a real-life goddess.

  Time for an intervention.

  Gabe shouldered between two photographers who were knocking against each other, trying to get the best shot. One of them whined, “Hey, who do you think you are?”

  They didn’t recognize him. Every time they’d seen him before, he’d been clean-shaven and dressed in designer clothes. His worn jeans, black T-shirt, and scruffy face looked totally different. But this was the real Gabe Maddox.

  One person recognized him, though. The only one he cared about. She stopped in the middle of her lecture and just stared at him. Her expression one of uncertainty, hope, and not a little anger.

  “Who are you?” a reporter asked.

  His eyes on the amazing woman in front of him, he admitted to the world what he’d hidden for so long. No longer wanting to keep it a secret. Proud to be able to say it.

  “I’m Skylar James’s husband.”

  Her eyes brimming with tears, Skye flew into his arms. Holding her tight, Gabe swung her around, glorying in the knowledge that he had indeed been granted one more chance.

  * * *

  Lying beside her husband, his arms locked around her, hearing him breathe the slow, easy breaths of deep sleep, Skylar knew she’d found true peace. They hadn’t taken a moment to talk yet. The instant she’d let go of him, reporters had started clamoring with even more questions. Cameras had clicked furiously.

  Gabe had grabbed her hand and started running. He hailed a taxi, they jumped inside, and then she was back in his arms, his mouth on hers. No words had been necessary. She’d seen the truth in his eyes. What ever demons had been eating at him had been slayed. This time, Gabe was here to stay.

  They’d rushed into her apartment building and she’d almost suggested they use the stairs. Gabe never gave her a chance. The instant the elevator doors had opened, he’d pulled her inside and his mouth had been on hers again. If this was his way to handle his problem with enclosed spaces, he would get no complaints from her.

  Now, hours later, secure in the knowledge that she and Gabe were indeed forever, she needed to get a few things out of the way.

  “I can hear your mind working.”

  She smiled at the gruff growling voice in her ear. “And here I was trying to think quietly.”

  Gabe drew her earlobe into his mouth and bit gently. Skylar shuddered with arousal. Soon, very soon, she was going to seduce her husband into exhaustion. Bu
t not yet.

  “Why, Gabe?”

  There was no need to explain what she meant.

  His arms tightened around her as he sighed. “I’m sorry, Skye. I needed to go back home and see Ruth before I could go forward with you.”

  “You saw your stepmother?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it difficult?”

  “It was until I saw her face. You were right. I should have gone back a long time ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “She cried a lot, apologized, which I told her she didn’t need to do.”

  Skylar disagreed with him but she wasn’t going to argue the point. Gabe had punished himself for surviving a horrific accident. And while she could understand his stepmother’s grief, she would never understand how she could have treated Gabe with anything but gratitude that he had survived. Gabe had needed someone to be happy that he’d lived. The entire town had failed him.

  “How is she doing?”

  “She’s good. Both of her stepchildren are in college now. Her husband is semi-retired. She looks happy. I hope she is.”

  “Did you see anyone else?”

  “No, not really. Went back to my old high school and looked around. Took a walk to the old cabin my dad, Brandon, and I used to camp out at. Visited their gravesites.”

  “And what did you find?”

  “Peace, Skye. I found peace.”

  “I’m glad.” She paused for a second. “I missed you.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Leave you.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “So where do you want to live?”

  Gabe’s arms tightened around her again. “Wherever you like.”

  She smiled at his words. Even as much as he hated the city, he was willing to live here if this was where she wanted to stay. It was about time the man knew just who he had married.

  Rolling over to lie on top of him, Skylar propped her elbows on the bed and gazed down at the love of her life. “You would do that for me? Live here, in the city?”