Breaking Free (Steele Ridge Book 5)

by Adrienne Giordano

  Guns, she didn’t fear. People? They terrified her.

  Still on the floor, she brought the gun up and a flash of metal in Phil’s hand drew her gaze. Knife. His secondary weapon of choice.

  “Drop it!”

  Jonah pivoted and a hard thrust landed in the side of his abdomen.

  “Jonah!”

  Phil wrenched the knife free, drawing back again, ready to strike a second time.

  At least until Micki squeezed the trigger.

  23

  The shot rang out.

  An icy shiver gripped Micki and she locked her jaw, forced herself to concentrate. Phil's chest bloomed red and he stumbled back, the shock, the absolute horror, contorting his face. He backed into the wall and his body slid lower, sagging to the floor.

  Her brother’s shouting voices filled the small space, echoing off the walls, and Micki sat, the damned gun still in her hand, every inch of her frozen with fear and anger. Someone said something about checking the other one and zip-ties. What? She shook her head, confused by the shouting and merging voices.

  Needing an anchor, she found Grif, on his phone relaying details to 911. Beside him a now shirtless Britt barked orders at Jonah, and Micki shivered again.

  Jonah.

  Her twin. On the floor, blood pouring from the side of his belly into Britt’s shirt.

  “Christ almighty, Tarzan,” he said, “don't push that hard. That shit hurts.”

  Alive. He’s alive.

  “Quit your bitching, Baby Billionaire,” Reid said from the other room. “Save your energy.”

  “Fuck off, Reid.”

  “Atta boy!”

  What was wrong with them? Total morons. She’d just shot a man and they were screaming at each other.

  “Micki.”

  Gage—safe—stood a foot to her right, out of the line of fire. He dropped to his knees. “Honey, put the gun down. On the floor. Right now.”

  He inched closer, sliding on his knees, his hands out in front of him.

  “I…sh-sh-shot…shot him.”

  The reality of it hadn’t quite sunk in, but she saw the evidence in front of her. A loud groan came from her throat and the room spun, the walls curving and swaying, and she rocked forward. And back. Forward and back.

  “Ohmigod,” she said.

  “Honey.” Gage again. “Look at me.”

  Forcing herself to move, she brought her head around. “What did I do?”

  “You just saved your brother’s life. You’re okay. Just, please, put the gun down.”

  Gun. In her shaking hand. Lord, it could go off again.

  Slowly, she lowered it, set it on the floor, and snatched her hands away. Gage wrapped his fingers around her arm, gently bringing her against him, holding her head to his chest. “Breathe. Nice and slow. You’re okay.”

  The carnage in front of her brought on another bout of panic and she buried her forehead in his chest.

  “Is he…dead?”

  “Don’t worry about it now.”

  “He had the knife,” she said. “I had to.”

  “Yes. You did. He’d have killed you. And Jonah. All of us.”

  She nodded. He’d have done it. No matter what he said, all the years they’d been together, she knew, down deep, Phil wouldn’t have walked away.

  Too stubborn. Too driven. Too…competitive.

  He had to win. Always. His reputation, his livelihood depended on it.

  A wailing siren approached.

  “Ambulance,” Reid said. “I’m on it. Grif, keep an eye on that asshole back there.”

  Her brother ran to the door, holding it open with his foot while he waved his arms. “Hang on, Baby Billionaire. They’re pulling in.”

  “Fuck you again, Reid.”

  “That’s the spirit. You make me proud. Ooh, and would you look at this? You got yourself a pretty blond EMT. Lucky bastard.”

  “I just got stabbed,” Jonah said to Britt. “I’m lucky?”

  Micki shoved away from Gage, scrambling the few feet to Jonah because this was her chance. Before they took him. Just in case he didn’t…no. She wouldn’t put that out there.

  She reached him and looked down at the stark white of his face, all that precious blood draining from him. She rested her head against his shoulder and stroked his hair. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Pfft. For what? You didn’t stab me. That fucking psycho did. Now shut up about it. This wasn’t your fault.”

  Wasn’t her fault.

  “Ow, Britt. Shit. Take it easy. And Micki, don't make me say this again. What you sacrificed for me, what you gave up, I can’t wrap my mind around it. You did all that. For me. Do you have any idea how humbling that is? To know my sister loved me that much? Girl, give yourself a break.”

  “Hey, sugar. Right in here.”

  Micki angled back to where Reid held the door for a female EMT and her partner rushing in wheeling a gurney. “My brother is the one on the ground. Stab wound, but he’s pretty talkative right now. The other guy has a GSW to the chest.”

  24

  Micki stood in front of Saint Elizabeth's hospital, the bright morning sunshine blinding her. Beside her, Captain America, of course, had remembered his sunglasses and stood with his face tipped to the sun.

  “Great day,” he said.

  Micki glanced at the hospital entrance where a nurse wheeled out a young mother cuddling a baby. A man carrying an armload of flowers and dragging a suitcase walked behind.

  “It is a great day,” Micki said. “Maybe when I’m done here, we can grab lunch.”

  He slid his arm over her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I'd like that. And, maybe tonight, after your meeting with Jonah, we'll go into Asheville. Wander around, grab a movie, listen to some live music. We'll get that date we haven't had yet.”

  A movie and music. How incredibly normal for a girl whose life had been anything but.

  Two days ago she'd shot Phil. Self-defense. Owen, her crack lawyer, had made sure the State’s Attorney went along with that and, given her testimony regarding the illegal dealings of Phil Flynn and Associates, it appeared she’d be granted immunity in the whole mess. Immunity and a chance to rebuild her life.

  She needed time to make sense of all that they’d done, the people they’d hurt. The ironic part? Phil had taught her, without question, that bad behavior came with consequences. Well, they had that by the truckload.

  Last night, the shock of the past days had worn off and the full brunt of emotions socked her, left her reeling and terrified because everything she’d known her entire adult life was now gone. After her crying jag, she’d fallen asleep curled up with Gage while watching All The President’s Men, apparently a favorite of Captain America’s. Despite the sore neck this morning, the night had been all she’d really ever dreamed of.

  Gage slid his sunglasses off and waved them at the hospital entrance. “You ready for this?”

  She let out a sarcastic grunt. “No.”

  “You don't have to do it.”

  “I know, but I need to. I have to end it. Once I do, I'll finally be free.”

  “It’s your call.”

  She gripped his hand still on her shoulder, pulling him along as she started toward the door. “Let's do this, Captain. I want that lunch you promised me.”

  Once inside, they rode the elevator to the fourth-floor surgical unit where doctors had plucked the bullet from Phil's chest and announced he'd survive.

  As a result, he faced what looked like the next twenty years—at least—in prison. Tomas would be right there with him. He’d at least been smart and made a deal with the prosecutors for less time.

  Outside room 412 stood an armed county sheriff's deputy. Micki checked in with him and turned to Gage.

  “I’d like to go in alone.”

  Gage glanced at the partially open door. “You sure?”

  “I am. I have things to say to him.”

  “If it’s what you want. I’ll
wait right out here. Holler if you need me.” He leaned in, ran one hand down the side of her cheek. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

  At that, she smiled. “I know.”

  She turned to the door and looked through the opening. Phil lay in bed, his head facing the window. If he wasn't asleep, he was simply ignoring his visitor. The silent treatment. One of his go-to forms of coercion.

  Well, she had something to say and he’d hear it whether he wanted to or not.

  She didn't bother knocking and stepped into the room. “Phil?”

  When he didn’t acknowledge her, she walked around the bed and peeked at him. Two days’ worth of growth swathed his chin, an unusual occurrence for the manscaped Phil.

  She moved closer, stepped around the rolling tray holding a small bouquet of flowers someone had cared enough to send. Probably a family member. Micki planted herself directly in his sightline. Still he stared straight ahead, absolutely refusing to acknowledge her. Well, too bad. A couple of weeks ago, it would have worked. She'd have rushed back to her desk and worked like a demon to please him. Anything to get out of the scary Phil doghouse.

  How things changed with family support.

  And Captain America.

  “Look away,” she said, “but I know you can hear me.”

  Still, he stared straight ahead as if she were a glass door. “We’ve been through a lot together, Phil, and we're not done yet. I came to tell you to, for once, do the right thing and plead guilty. Save your family the humiliation of a trial and give the taxpayers a break on the cost of prosecuting. They’ll get you anyway, so why put the people you love through it?”

  Finally, he slid his gaze up to her. “Never.”

  Ah, yes. The Phil she knew. The one with delusions about his indestructibility. “I know you think you've insulated yourself. And maybe, before all of this, you had. You've been careful all these years. Hiding or destroying evidence, offshore accounts, all of it in preparation for the day the feds would come knocking. You had it all figured out, didn’t you?”

  He didn't answer. She’d didn't expect him to.

  “Well, there’s one thing you didn’t count on.” She held up a flash drive and waggled it. “You didn't count on me helping myself to some of that precious evidence you tried to hide. I finally hacked into your server. Ironic, no?” She bent at the waist and met his eye. “Plead guilty, Phil, or I tell them everything. After what you did to Jonah and Gage, I will bleed myself dry to make sure you go to prison.”

  “I can still get to you from behind bars.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. The difference now is that I’m not afraid of you anymore. I have my family back. You took them from me. I was a kid and you separated me from the only support system I had. I should hate you for that, but I forgive you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Please. As if I care?”

  “The forgiveness isn't for you. It’s for me. I want to be done with you. Carrying anger and hatred takes way too much energy. There were kindnesses you showed me over the years. Thank you for that. Even if it was only to keep me in check, you still did it. Now it’s over. Good-bye, Phil.”

  She stood tall, pushed her shoulders back, and headed for the door.

  “You won't testify,” he said. “I know you.”

  At the door, Micki stopped. She glanced back, found him staring right at her. Finally, he’d moved his head. Probably when he realized his old tricks no longer worked.

  “You won’t,” he said again.

  “Try me. This time, you won’t win.”

  25

  Gage knocked on Reid’s office door and waited for the big man to look up from his laptop. “Hey,” he said. “How’d it go?”

  “I waited outside, but she said it was fine. Said what she had to say. Now she's done. Ready to move on.”

  “What a mess. It’ll be good having her home. She's a pain in the ass, but I missed her.”

  Love. Steele style.

  Apparently finished with that subject, Reid pointed at the computer. “Just got the inventory list for the hotel. Who the hell knew there was that much shit in a hotel?”

  “It’s a lot of soap, for sure.”

  “And really, do we need the fancy stuff? I mean, moisturizer? How many guys do you know who can’t live without that for a few days? Aside from Danny B. from our old unit. He’s a walking personal hygiene product.”

  Gage laughed. “The hope is the men will bring their families. If it’s putting you over the edge, cut it. Just remember, it was Brynne’s suggestion.”

  “Come on, man! Are you kidding me? I love her, but that’s a lot of fucking moisturizer.” He shook his head and swiveled his chair to face Gage. “I know you didn't come in here to talk moisturizer. What’s up?”

  What was up was today would be the day Gage came clean to his bosses about his injury. In all the discussions with Micki about her secrets and having faith in her family to support her, Gage hadn’t followed his own advice. True, Micki might be their own blood, but the Steeles had been good to him. They deserved the truth.

  No matter the consequences.

  In ten minutes Micki would meet with Jonah to pitch her software and Gage would be there as her test dummy. The day before, her need for distraction drove them to spending twelve freaking hours testing the program. It had some kinks, but he could see the use for it. Particularly in VA hospitals. Jonah, having launched a successful video game, knew the right people to make Micki's dream come true.

  Gage waggled his hand. “I wanted to check in before this meeting with Jonah.”

  “Jonah,” Reid said, heavy on the sarcasm. “The Baby Billionaire is the only guy I know who can get stabbed and have the knife miss every major organ.” Reid ran both hands over his face and blew out a breath. “Damn, that took a dozen years off my life. Scared the shit out of me.”

  “He’s lucky he got out of it only needing stitches.”

  “Amen, brother. Am I in this meeting with you?”

  “No. But, uh, I’ve been helping Micki with the software.”

  “I thought it was educational.”

  “It started out that way. She originally developed it with ADD kids in mind. She’s tweaked it.”

  Reid sat back and propped one hand on the arm of his chair. Waiting. He narrowed his eyes, studying Gage as if, somehow, he knew what was coming. Still, an actual conversation needed to be had. He’d have to ask his friend to forgive him for concealing facts about his health. Facts that could have affected the business.

  And really, that’s what it came down to. Gage had been too caught up in proving he still had a right to carry a Man Club card to realize he’d jeopardized Jonah’s money and Reid’s future.

  Now it was time to ’fess up. To admit that their president of operations suffered from a traumatic brain injury.

  Sensing Gage’s hesitation, Reid waved him off. “You don’t have to say it. It’s all good.”

  “No. It isn’t.”

  “Look, dude, don’t put yourself through this for me. We’re men. We don’t talk about shit like this. I know what you’re gonna say. We don’t need a conversation.”

  Yeah, they did. “I have a TBI.”

  There. He’d said it. After all these months of hiding it, damned if it didn’t roll right off his tongue. No agony, no incompetence, no shame. Just…relief.

  Settling in, Reid propped his giant feet on the desk. “I know. Which is why I said we don’t have to talk about it.”

  “You knew-knew. Or you thought you knew?”

  “God save me. What the hell does it matter? You hit your head. I saw changes in you. It’s not rocket science. I kept it to myself, figuring you needed time to heal. And, for the record, I was right.” He flashed his teeth. “As usual.”

  “Oh, fuck you.”

  Clearly enjoying himself, Reid raised his hands before Gage lit into him. “I’ll admit there were a few things you missed. With all we had going on, it was minor. I fixed it and that was that. I
got you, Suds. Always.”

  “Does Jonah know?”

  “Not from me.”

  Damn. Now that was loyalty. The guy’s brother had millions invested in this place and Reid had been covering Gage’s ass while making sure his brother didn’t lose his investment. The weight of Reid’s responsibility hit him and the shame finally came. The superhero, because of his own ego, had put his friend in one hell of a corner. “Thank you. I didn’t intend…”

  “Stop.” Reid said. “Please. We’re all good and you’re trying to piss me off by talking about this. I’m done analyzing. I suck at this sensitivity crap.”

  “Okay. We’re done. I wanted you to hear it from me first. And I’m getting better. Every day.”

  “Once again, I know. I see the improvement. Chat over. Bye-bye.”

  “Also—”

  “Son of a bitch, why is it never over when I think it’s over? Brynne does this to me all the time.” He held up a finger. “‘Are you okay?’” he said, mimicking Brynne's voice. “And then I say I’m fine. And then she says”—he cleared his throat to mimic his soon-to-be-bride again—“ ‘you don’t seem fine.’” Back to his regular voice. “I’m telling you, it never ends. It’s like entering the gates of hell.”

  Wow. Dude needed to chill. “Jeez, take it easy. It’s over. I’m just saying thanks for taking a chance when you knew my brain was scrambled.”

  “On your worst day, your scrambled brain is better than ninety percent of the brains out there. Hiring you was not a hard decision. Believe me. You could do this job in your sleep. With a scrambled brain. Now leave. Before I fire your ass.”

  Gage offered up a crisp salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Hey.”

  Gage turned back. “What?”

  “My sister. You're sure she's okay?”

  “She is. Getting settled in.”

  “Good. She deserves to be happy.”