by ANDREA SMITH
I pulled the collar of Easton’s trench coat up to my eyes, as if to shield them from seeing whatever it was that was about to go down.
“Easton,” I said, my voice cracking. “Where’s Lindsey? I heard gun shots a little while ago.” Before he could answer, I saw the van they’d left in sitting cock-eyed on the sidewalk a half-block down. The tires had been blown out and the panel door was ajar, but no one was around it.
“She’ll be fine, love. They’re seeing about getting her back right now safe and sound. Don’t worry.”
“Stop!” I cried out, now struggling to get released from his arms.”I need to wait for Lindsey. I have to know that she’s safe. Where is she?” The shock I’d been in was wearing off enough to allow the panic to now seep in.
He lowered me to my feet in front of him, keeping his arms around me as he nodded to the park across the street that seemed to be surrounded on the ground and on rooftops with agents that looked more like terrorist snipers than law enforcement. I could see that they were keeping in contact by wireless radio.
“Listen, sweetheart,” he said cautiously. “Her father has her in the park with him. He’s trying to use her to protect himself—the bloody bastard,” he snapped. “I don’t want you to worry, love. She won’t be harmed, I promise you. They know what they’re doing out there.”
“And her grandmother?” I asked.
His furrowed brow told me he hadn’t a clue as to whom I was talking about. Hopefully, the old bitch had caught a stray bullet.
I could tell something across the street had just heated up. I could feel the tension rise. Easton felt it too as he pulled me into an alcove doorway on the side of the building facing the park across the street, shielding me with his own body. From the rooftop of the building directly across from us, I could see the red glare of the infrared night scope atop a weapon as it searched for a target. It then stopped and held position. A second later I heard a shot ring out. Only one. But I knew it had met its mark when seconds later I heard the blood-curdling scream of my best friend coming from a cluster of trees fifty yards away in the darkness of the park. Her plaintive wail seemed to go on and on.
I started to push away from Easton, so that I could go to her, but he immediately pulled me back, encasing me tightly within his arms. “She’s okay, love. They got him, not her. She’s fine.”
“She’s not fine, Easton,” I persisted. “Don’t you understand? That was her father and she loved him…no matter what! She loved him. I need to go to her!” I was on the verge of hysterics.
“No,” he said, firmly, drawing me back closer, lowering his lips to my ear. “That’s Taz’s job, baby. Not yours,” he continued, nodding his head toward the park.
Oh Friggin’ Hell…God, please don’t let Taz be the one that took the son-of-a-bitch down!
I looked across the street to the building where the sharpshooter had been positioned and watched as he hoisted himself down to ground level, dropping to the pavement from the fire escape. There were two agents in FBI jackets waiting for him. Another had taken off in a fast sprint in the direction of Lindsey with several NYC police officers on his flank.
The sniper-agent turned his weapon over to one of the others, and then pulled his ski mask cap off, revealing his seriously handsome face.
Thank God! It’s Slate…
I looked back across to the park, seeing the white reflective letters of “F B I” on the back of the jacket of the agent that had taken off like a rocket once the single bullet had met its mark. That had been Taz, thank God! Lindsey’s Taz—and he’d be grabbing up his baby girl any sec, letting her know that she was safe and loved, and that he was taking her home.
I looked up at Easton, who still had his arms wrapped around me, using his body as a shield of protection for me, even though the threat of danger had been eliminated. “Can we go home, Easton?”
“Yes, love. We’re going home. That’s why I’m here, baby—to take you home.”
chapter 56
I awoke the following morning, still ensconced in the warm cocoon Easton had made for me with his body. He’d taken me to his loft and carefully bathed me from head to toe, washing my hair of the filth that had accumulated during the hours spent as the late Jack Dennison’s hostage. He’d given me one of his long-sleeved shirts to wear, and a clean pair of his boxers.
We hadn’t talked a lot last night. Easton had insisted I get my rest and had molded his body against mine perfectly, where we’d fallen asleep together and remained that way until now. I snuggled into him with my backside, eager for him to be awake with me.
“Morning, love,” I heard him whisper against the back of my neck. “Sleep well?”
“Umm,” I said with a sigh nodding, “Better than I have in a long, long time. You?”
I felt his smile. “No complaints…though I’m a bit puzzled about something,” he said, his hands now gently massaging my small baby bump.
It’s time, Darce.
“What’s that?” I asked, innocently, holding my breath.
“You seem to have a bit…more…here, love,” he whispered against my neck. “Of course, I’ve nothing against full-figured women, but during the night it seemed to me as if…well, for lack of a better word, my hand felt some vibration as it rested against your abdomen.”
Oh God…
“Easton,” I said, slowly, glad that I wasn’t facing him at the moment. “I’m pregnant. It must’ve happened the night of the storm…when we were…together at your estate.”
“I see,” he replied, his tone giving me no indication as to how he was taking the news.
I swallowed nervously and continued. “I know how you feel about…well, babies and all, and the reason I didn’t tell you was because I was afraid you’d try to force me to have an abortion…and there’s just no way—”
“What?” he growled; anger now very evident in his voice. He sat up, pulling me with him, but I was too scared of what I’d see in his eyes after what I’d just told him.
So I busied my focus by watching my hands pluck at the sheet covering my body.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I turned to face him, looking up into his angry eyes from beneath my lashes.
“What in God’s name are you saying?” he demanded.
“Bianca…,” I explained, fumbling for words, “I was told that you forced her to have an abortion.”
“Good Lord, woman,” he said, eyes flashing, “What kind of a man do you think I am?”
Is that rhetorical?
I shrugged my shoulders, still watching him. The anger was slowly dissipating. “I was told that by Lacee,” I murmured. “She was told that by Bianca.”
“That bloody figures,” he mumbled, taking my hand into his. “I know I’ve been an arse and that you’ve seen first-hand some of that with Devon, and in the way that I treated you. You have to know now that I’d never react that way to news like this. I wouldn’t have with Bianca, and certainly not with you. None of that’s true, love. Do you believe me?”
His eyes were searching mine for an answer and I realized it was important to Easton that I knew the kind of man he was and that I believed him over idle gossip and vicious lies.
“Then tell me, Easton. If you loved me, why did you leave me? Convince me that it’ll never happen again.”
For the first time ever, I saw a look of pain cross over his face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of resolve. He looked over at me, his eyes brilliant with some self-revelation, some understanding of why he’d done what he’d done.
“It’s difficult to explain, Darcy, but I promise you that I will. Because you deserve to know, not only what I’ve just recently figured out, but where I want our future to go. The demons are gone, baby, I promise you that. Forgive me for ever making you the recipient of my anger and hostility. I had no right to do that and I will explain some things to you about my past, but please understand, I’m not using those as excus
es for my behaviour, alright?”
I nodded, giving him a hesitant, but very relieved smile. “I understand,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know the details of the stuff Lacee told me about your mother and Bianca, but Colin did share with me the fact that you didn’t terminate Devon, and instead you offered her a flex schedule. He didn’t believe the vicious lies Bianca spread either. He told me he believed you loved me,” I finished a bit sheepishly. I wanted to trust in his sincerity.
He looked at me, his eyes full of passion. “I do love you, Darcy. I adore you. And I will show you that for as long as you’ll permit it. But for the moment, I’d like to know when our baby’s due.” He was looking at me with tenderness and his eyes were full of love.
“Mid-January,” I replied softly. “And I hope you know I didn’t do this on purpose. You see, my Depo shot had expired and—”
“Quiet, love,” he gently admonished, pulling me onto his lap, wrapping both arms around me so that his hands were massaging my belly. “I don’t care how it happened. I’m just pleased that it did. I love the thought of having a baby—our baby. By the way, I’d prefer a boy first, if you don’t mind. Daughters can follow later.”
“I’ll try to accommodate you on that, Mr. Matthews,” I said with a stern tone, but my lips were already curling into a laugh-like grin. I leaned back against him as we enjoyed our “tummy time” together. “However,” I began to inform him, trying and failing miserably to hold onto that stern tone, “it is the male that determines the gender, just so you know. I mean, I’d hate for you to punish me if you get a daughter first out of the gate.”
I heard his rich laughter against my hair as he slowly and methodically relieved me of my clothing, kissing, caressing and loving every part of me with slow and deliberate measure. My body responded to his, just as it always had, taking his fullness inside of me and rising up to meet him thrust for thrust as his lips devoured me.
“I love you, Darcy,” he whispered against my ear, his fingers teasing the soft peaks of my breasts. “And I’m going to love this baby and all the rest of the children we’ll have together.”
My heart fluttered at his words because they’d come from his heart, the one he swore he didn’t have.
“I love you, Easton,” I replied, my hands, capturing his face, pulling him down closer so that our eyes locked. “Thank you for saving me. For everything,” I whispered.
Later, as we were curled up on his sofa together, his cell rang. It was Taz. I’d been curious about how they’d hooked up, in light of what Lindsey had shared with me earlier. They talked for a few minutes. At first it sounded as if Taz might’ve been bitching him out over something, but Easton seemed to be taking it in stride.
For real?
I watched as he held his phone away from his ear, rolling his eyes and giving me a smirk. Finally, when Taz had said what he’d called to say, Easton spoke up. “Let me remind you, bro, that if not for my patented track-ware, you and the rest of the bureau wouldn’t have had a clue as to the location of your wife, the rat bastard fugitive, along with the perps that were assisting him that you’ve been trying to nail for a month now. So, if someone gives you shit about me having my helicopter land rooftop on the building yesterday without the knowledge or the authorization of the FBI, you might want to make a case for me. Besides,” he continued, giving me his sexy wink, “It all turned out for the best. You got your collar…and I got mine.”
I could tell that Taz was thanking him and that the conversation had been amiable all along. Easton inquired about Lindsey and, right before they ended the call, Easton made his plane available for our return to D.C.
“So,” I said, sticking my big toe up to his face and waggling it. “You two make up?”
He gave me his signature smile, grabbing my foot to tickle it.
“Stop, Easton,” I laughed, finally getting it away from him. “Answer my question.”
“Taz and I are fine,” he replied. “We’re brothers who occasionally disagree, that’s all. It’s what families do, I guess. He thanked me for finding you two, right after he attempted to chew my ass about coming to get you once I’d found you.”
“Yeah, about that,” I replied, “wanna clue me in how it came to be it was you that found us?”
“Why, Miss Sheridan,” he replied, seriously. “Did you not pay attention to your own presentation on the cutting edge technology of Night Moves Track-Ware®?”
Huh?
“What? Where?”
He was amused by my inability to figure it out.
“I don’t just give anyone clit jewelry, you know?” he teased. “Only very special people that I want to keep track of…”
No he didn’t…
“Seriously?” I asked, my eyes widening. “You had chips put in my clit jewelry?”
“And your belly-button stud as well.”
I couldn’t help it, I started laughing. He watched me with a bemused look on his face.
“You’re definitely a piece of work, Easy-E. But hey? For once, your odd proclivity for ultimate control, along with borderline stalking worked out for everyone concerned. Well, except for Jack Dennison, I guess. How’s Lindsey?”
“Taz said she’s doing better, but it’ll take time for her to get over the shock of what her father did and who he was. I guess I know a little bit about that. She’ll work it out. Taz will be right there with her. As it turns out, the old lady—Louise is it?”
I nodded.
“She apparently sang like a bird. She and her son were heavily tied into some weapons smuggling in return for getting across the border with brand new identities.”
Holy shit!
“Now,” he said, as he pulled my feet into his lap and started massaging them, “let’s talk about us.”
“Okay,” I replied. “Shoot.”
“Do your parents know about the baby?”
Uh oh.
“Well, yeah,” I replied, “But…they sort of think it’s Darin’s,” I said, wrinkling my nose up, knowing he wasn’t going to be happy hearing that. I was surprised when he calmly continued administering his kick-ass foot massage.
“You and I will remedy that as soon as we get back, understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, giggling. “But they’re going to freak—just so you know.”
“They’ll get over it,” he replied. “After all, it won’t do for them not to welcome their soon to be son-in-law with open arms.”
“And open minds,” I mumbled under my breath. “Wait—hold up. Was that a proposal?” I asked, jerking my foot from his grasp. “No—I think you can and will do better than that, Easton Jamison Matthews!”
He pulled me onto his lap, brushing the hair back from my face.
“Darcy Nicole Sheridan,” he said quietly, gazing into my eyes. “Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”
Of course, you all know what the answer is, right?
epilogue
~ Friday, January 13th ~
It was official. My aversion to ‘Friday the 13th’ had been forever banished. Never again would that be a sign of bad luck or karma. This Friday the 13th had been perfect. Our son had made his debut into the world on Friday the 13th—my new lucky day.
“Mrs. Matthews,” the nurse greeted me, coming into my hospital room with yet another large bouquet of flowers, this one in a baby-blue basket containing a brown stuffed teddy-bear wearing a baby-blue bow tie and hat in it. “Looks like this little fellow already has a fan club,” she finished with a smile. She set the latest delivery down on the table that was nearly full of flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and musical planters playing all kinds of popular nursery rhymes.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling and wondering where the hell Easton was with the baby. I’d waddled to the bathroom for a quick sitz bath at the nurse’s direction and when I’d returned, Easton and the baby were both gone.
“Would you happen to know where my baby is?” I aske
d, as she prepared to take my blood pressure again for the umpteenth time since I’d delivered our 7-pound, 6-ounce bundle of joy three and a half hours prior.
She pumped the rubber ball, inflating the cuff. “No worries, sweetie,” she gushed. “Oh, that husband of yours sure is serious about his responsibilities as a new daddy. He’s down with a couple of the other new fathers at “Daddy Training” offered by the pediatrics ward. We encourage it so they can be of help to Mom and Baby once you both go home.”
Easton had easily won over all of the female nurses, aids, technicians, and dieticians since our arrival. They had gushed, blushed, flushed and openly gawked at him, not giving a shit whether I saw them or not, from the time we’d arrived at the hospital. I suppose the fact that he’d been constantly fussing over me the whole time I was in labor and throughout the delivery had further ingratiated him to the staff.
I had no complaints, though. He’d been awesome with me throughout my pregnancy. True to his word, once we’d returned to D.C., he’d stayed at Eli’s and my apartment until he found permanent living quarters for the two of us. He’d opened up to me about some of the horrific things that had occurred during his childhood and shared some memories that weren’t so pleasant. I’d been given the facts which, of course, had differed from Lacee’s version relative to Bianca.
He insisted we be married before the baby arrived, promising me a lavish ball to celebrate our nuptials once the baby got here and I felt up to it. So, we’d flown to Monte Carlo for a long weekend, becoming husband and wife in a private and intimate ceremony.
My parents had taken the news better than I’d anticipated. It probably had helped that Easton did all of the talking, relaying to my parents our mutual love, respect, and commitment. I’d kind of hung back, Easton’s arm wrapped around me, watching my father’s expression go from shock, to numb, to acceptance once Easton explained (amidst my deep blush) that anything they’d overheard in Belize the previous year was certainly not indicative of the current love relationship we shared.
