by Debbie Mason
What he didn’t realize at that moment was the outcome for him might be worse.
A bitterly cold wind whipped across the Atlantic and whistled through the car’s windows as Michael drove along the water toward Bridgeport. The downturn in the fishing industry had hit the industrial part of town hard. There were several boarded-up buildings on either side of the road. In the distance, he spotted three red barnlike structures. A crumbling brick smokestack stood beside the largest of the three buildings that were built on stilts and stone footings over the water. He squinted through the windshield and made out the faded white letters advertising the Marine Paint Factory. The buildings looked abandoned. The only signs of life were the seagulls sitting on the broken railroad ties and two harbor seals sunning on the rocks close to shore. If the shipment was coming in by water, this would be an ideal place to unload and store the product with the residents of Bridgeport none the wiser.
There weren’t any vehicles that he could see, but he decided to take a closer look and turned onto the narrow, dirt road to the factory. First thing he spotted was a black Challenger—as sleek and sexy as its owner—partially concealed by trees. There were no other vehicles around, but that didn’t mean Shay was on her own. Given what Charlie had said about the recent addition to her crew, Michael wasn’t taking any chances. He scoped out a place to conceal his car.
The gravel crunched under the tires as he slowly drove toward a Dumpster on the opposite side of the lot and parked behind a small shed. He noted a FOR SALE sign leaning against the first building and decided that was as good a cover as any. If he ran into anyone other than Shay, he’d pretend he was interested in buying the property.
He carefully closed the car door then moved behind the Dumpster to scan the area around the three buildings. A narrow path between the front two led to the biggest structure that backed onto the water. The snow on the path looked like it had been trampled, and Michael made his way toward it, staying low in case anyone happened to be standing near the windows at the front of the building that looked like it may have once contained offices.
The footprints in the snow were fresh. As he bent to determine if they were Shay’s, a blow to the back of his head took him to his knees. The last thing he saw before his world went black was Shay’s face. She didn’t look happy to see him.
Chapter Three
I’ll take care of him.”
The man’s offer sounded good to Michael. A glass of water, painkillers, and an ice pack were the first things he’d ask for. His head was pounding, and his brain was fuzzy. He didn’t remember where he was. It didn’t help that he was having a difficult time opening his eyes. He went to lift his hand…The rope cutting into his wrists immediately cleared the fog from his brain. He clenched his jaw and forced his eyelids to open.
A skinny guy wearing a black bomber jacket and jeans stood in front of him with a gun in his hand. Apparently painkillers and ice weren’t in the cards for him.
Shay came into view in the dimly lit space. “Give me that.” The tension in Michael’s chest released when she took the gun from the guy. Only to return when she said, “I’ll take care of him.”
“Great. You wouldn’t happen to have any painkillers lying around, would you?” Michael asked in an attempt to defuse the situation. His voice was rough, the words hard to get out of his mouth. He began to think the effort was wasted on Shay. There was no softening of her expression or amusement in her steel-gray eyes.
The guy smirked. “A bullet to the brain will take care of that. Shoot him and put him out of his misery, Shay.”
“I’m not shooting anyone, Jimmy,” she muttered, sticking the gun in the back of her jeans as she moved toward Michael. He was just beginning to think that he might actually make it out of this alive when Jimmy advanced on Shay with a knife.
Michael opened his mouth to warn her, but she’d already pivoted, knocking the blade from Jimmy’s hand with her arm. Then she expertly delivered an uppercut to the man’s jaw, dropping him to the floor.
Jimmy shook his head as though to clear it and lifted his hand to his jaw. “You’re going to pay—” he began to snarl at Shay, but from the way he wouldn’t make eye contact with her, it was more bravado than threat.
“You ever pull a stunt like that on me again, Jimmy, you’ll wish you were dead. Now get your ass off the floor.” She walked to Michael and reached into the pocket of his coat. Their eyes met and held. Hers were no longer cold and hard. If he read the emotion right, he’d say it was concern. Maybe fear. And since Shay Angel seemed fearless, it was obvious he was in trouble.
She turned and tossed the keys at Jimmy, who was still sitting on the floor. “While I figure out how to clean up the mess you made, get rid of his car.”
“The guy was snooping around. What was I supposed to do?”
“Stay out of sight until he left. Not try to bash his brains in with a two-by-four.”
Jesus, no wonder his head hurt. Michael went to raise his hand to check for blood and felt the burn of the ropes on his wrists. He was tied to a chair.
Jimmy pushed himself off the floor. “Good luck explaining to Keller why you didn’t off the guy.”
“I don’t answer to anyone, Jimmy. Remember that.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Angel. These guys don’t mess around. If you’re not careful, we’ll all wind up dead.”
“No one’s going to end up dead, but if you don’t get rid of his car, we’ll have his cousin”—she lifted her chin at Michael—“breathing down our necks, and we can kiss our share of the three million goodbye.”
Jimmy frowned. “Who—”
“He’s a DEA agent.”
Jimmy cursed himself and Michael all the way out the door.
As soon as it closed behind him, Shay turned on Michael. “What the hell were you doing out there?”
“Looking for you. Charlie sent me—”
She blanched. “How did he know where to—”
“He knows about the shipment. He knows what you’re involved with, and he wants you out of it. Now. Before it’s too late. Jesus, Shay, how did you get mixed up in this? Why—”
“Bring him in.” Her chin dipped to her chest, a hint of panic in her voice as she grabbed the knife off the floor. “He needs to be contained before someone—”
“Really? I seem to be a little tied up at the moment,” Michael said, angry all over again at what she was doing and the people she’d hurt.
She ignored him. Walking around the chair to crouch behind him, she gently moved the hair on the back of his head. “You need stitches. Do you think you can walk without passing out?” Cold steel pressed against the back of his hands.
“Probably. Why?”
“Because, you idiot,” she said as she sawed through the ropes, “I’m trying to save your life.”
“That’s rich coming from a woman who is throwing away hers.” He turned his head to look down at her. “Leave with me. I can get a deal for you in exchange for turning state’s evidence.”
“Too late. I’m in too deep.”
“It’s never too late. We can put you in witness protection.” He held her gaze as the last of the ropes fell away from his hands and feet. “I’m going to the police as soon as I get out of here.”
She gave him a slow smile. “Who said you’re getting out of here?”
“You implied—”
“I’m hiding you until this is over.” She helped him out of the chair, patting down his pockets with her free hand as she did. She pulled out his phone, dropped it on the floor, and raised her foot.
“No, wait. I need to…” She slammed her high-heeled boot onto the phone, shattering the screen. He bowed his head, and the room spun. He swayed on his feet. Shay wrapped an arm around his waist, keeping him upright.
“Lean on me.” She searched his face. “Do you think you can make it to—”
“I’ll be fine. But I’m not leaving without my SIM card.”
“Ex still holding your d
og hostage, is she?” Shay said as she bent to retrieve the card from his phone.
“Yes, and apparently my other ex is planning on holding me hostage.”
The smile she gave him faded when the door opened and a man built like an MMA fighter walked in. He wore a motorcycle jacket, a cobweb tattoo inked on the side of his thick neck. Shay might not be willing to commit murder for the cause, but the dark-haired man with the goatee obviously would, and had. She stiffened then positioned herself between Michael and the man he presumed to be Keller.
“Were you planning on going somewhere, Angel?” Keller’s smile didn’t reach his cold, flat stare.
Before she could answer, Jimmy and another man walked in. Michael had a faint memory of the tall, lean twentysomething guy with the shaggy, dirty-blond hair. Eric Stewart. He’d never approved of Shay’s relationship with Michael.
Eric’s gaze jerked from Michael to Shay. “What’s he doing here?”
“I’m looking to invest in Bridgeport and was told this property was for sale. Your friend there”—Michael lifted his chin at Jimmy— “apparently thought I was trespassing. I didn’t know the property had been sold. So if you’d give me the keys to my car, I’ll be on my way.”
“Your car’s swimming with the fishes, but don’t worry, you’ll be joining it real soon,” Keller promised with a cold smile.
Shay slowly moved her hand toward her back. She was going for her gun. As if Keller sensed what she was doing, he opened his jacket to reveal a Five-seveN semiautomatic pistol. “You better not miss,” the man advised with that same cold smile.
“I wouldn’t,” Shay said, sounding as cocky and confident as Michael remembered. It used to turn him on but it didn’t right now. He was afraid it was going to get them killed. “Your paranoia is going to get you killed one day, Keller.” She held up her hand to reveal Michael’s SIM card and then slid it in her back pocket. “I was moving him upstairs in case we had any more unwanted visitors.”
“I’ll save you the trouble and get rid of him now.”
“Appreciate the offer but when the time comes, I’d prefer to take care of him myself. I have a score to settle.”
When Keller looked like he was about to argue, Eric intervened. “He’s the reason she went away.”
The other man’s flat stare moved from Michael to Shay. He nodded, but didn’t look particularly happy that he’d lost out on the chance to put a bullet in Michael’s brain.
Shay must have sensed the same thing because she added, “We might need him if things go south. His cousin’s DEA.” She turned her back on Keller and lifted her chin at Michael. “Move.”
“We already have an agent on the payroll. We don’t need another one.”
Michael caught the surprise in Shay’s eyes before she pivoted. “Bullshit. I’d know if you did, and he’d be on my payroll, not yours. I’ve tested the water with Lancer and Knox. They didn’t bite. Wallace…Dammit, that’s who it is, isn’t it?”
“You’re not as tough as you think you are, kid. You didn’t lean on him hard enough.”
Eric and Jimmy didn’t appear to like the way the conversation was going any more than Michael did. It was obvious there was a power struggle under way. Or maybe they were shuffling toward the table on the opposite wall for another reason altogether. The sun had gone down, and there wasn’t much light in the room, but he made out a bag on the table along with a couple of spoons and syringes.
“Prove it. Get Wallace on the phone. I wanna talk to him,” Shay demanded.
“That might be a little tough seeing as he’s leading the BPD on a wild-goose chase at the moment.”
“Coast guard would have been a better…” She trailed off at the man’s smirk. “Who do you have on the inside?”
“It’s taken care of. That’s all you need to know.”
“I’m getting real tired of being kept out of the loop, Keller. It ends now or my distribution line dries up. I don’t need a babysitter.” She took Michael by the arm. “Forget about it. I’ll talk to your boss when he gets here.”
There was an ominous click from behind them. “I’m tired of your threats, Angel. We’ll let the boss settle this once and for all. If I get lucky, he’ll let me get rid of the both of you at the same time. Move it.”
“Shay, talk to me. Shay.” Michael shuffled closer to where she lay curled on her side on the floor. Her hands were tied behind her back, her feet bound. His heart pounded a loud, panicked beat in his head when she remained motionless, lifeless. He rocked his body, raising his head when he fell on his side and moved in behind her. He nudged her hair away from her face with his chin, breathing in the familiar scent. She smelled like wildflowers—sweet and spicy. The silky strands got caught on his stubble the way they used to. He pushed back the memories and images of their past and pressed his cheek to hers, relieved to find it warm, to hear her soft, even breaths. “Shay, you gotta wake up. We have to get out of here.”
She released a low moan, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked then held his gaze, a soft smile turning up her lips. “Hey.”
Unable to tear his gaze from her mouth, he didn’t answer. If she turned her head a fraction to the left, his lips would be on hers. He wanted that. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her as much as he always had. But this wasn’t the time or the place, and she wasn’t the woman for him. She was a drug dealer. Even if he got her out of this, it was something he needed to remember. Because Shay Angel could make him forget who he was and what he stood for.
Unwilling to let her see even a hint of what he felt for her, he lifted his head and struggled to sit upright. He felt the loss of her warm, lean body immediately.
Her eyes roamed his face before she said into her chest, “Don’t send in the cavalry. I’m fine.”
He snorted. Angry at himself for still wanting her, angry at the choices she’d made. “You’re not fine if you’re talking about the cavalry. Jimmy and Eric like the product you’re selling too much to be of any help to you.” Keller had swatted them off as easily as flies. And Michael hadn’t been much help either. “You shouldn’t have tried to fight him.”
“You know what? I’m really not in the mood to talk to you. If it wasn’t for you—”
“Don’t blame me. I’ve carried around enough guilt for the last eight years. I’m sorry for whatever happened to you in prison that set you on this path, but no one held a gun to your head, Shay. Do you even care how many lives you’re responsible for ruining? How many deaths?”
The only light in the room came from the moon shining through the dirty window above where Shay sat on the floor, but it was enough for him to make out the bruise and swelling on her face when she turned her head to look at him. She curled forward, pressing her knees to her chest. “I don’t blame you for back then, Michael. I never did. So if you’re looking for absolution—”
“Why did you do it, Shay? You knew I loved you. You had to know I would have done anything to help you.”
“And bring you down with me?” She shook her head. “I…cared for you too—”
“You didn’t just care for me, Shay. You loved me.”
Someone walked up the stairs. They could hear him breathing outside the closed door. At the sound of retreating footsteps, Shay whispered, “We were kids. What did we know about love? Nothing could have come of it anyway. We were from two different worlds.”
They still were. “You were protecting Charlie, weren’t you?”
She slanted him a look then nodded. “He got in over his head. Lost a pile at the tables to a couple of guys. They weren’t the kind who accepted IOUs.”
“You’re the one who’s in over their head now, Shay. You have to let me help you.”
Glancing at the door, she chewed on her bottom lip then looked him in the eye. “You don’t have to worry about me, Michael. Honestly, I can take care of myself. I’m—” She was cut off by a crash from below. He made out Keller’s voice and Eric’s. They were fighting, yelling. “Dammit, he’s going to
get himself killed,” Shay said.
“So are—”
“Stop, okay. I forgive you. We’re done. I’ve gotta get you out of here before it’s too late, and I need to concentrate.”
He realized now why she’d been pressing her knees to her chest. She was trying to slide her tied hands under her ass and over her bound feet. She glanced at him when he tried to do the same and her mouth twitched at the corner. “Don’t waste your energy. You won’t be able to do it and…you’re making too much noise. So stop.”
Michael persevered in the hopes of proving her wrong. All he got for his effort was rope burn, and a painful pounding behind his eyes. At the same time he gave up, Shay moved her roped hands over her bound feet.
“Now what are you—” he began when she stood and looked out the window.
She shushed him and cocked her head. “I hear a boat. Time’s almost up.” She bent her head over the rope.
“You’ll never be able to…” He sighed when the rope fell on the floor.
“Eric made sure there was some give when he tied me up.” Her mouth quirked as she sat down and worked on the rope binding her feet together. Once she got that off, she started on his, all the while concentrating on the sounds from the water below them. He could tell because she’d gone quiet and focused, her head tilted to the side, lifting at the slightest noise.
“Work on your feet,” she said when she’d freed his hands. She got up and tiptoed soundlessly to a corner in the room, lifting a tarp to reveal a couple of guns.
“You put them there, didn’t you? You had this planned.”
She smiled and grabbed two semiautomatics and a knife. She tucked one of the guns in the back of her jeans. “‘Always be prepared’ is my motto,” she said, the moonlight glinting off the knife and gun she held in her hands.
“I didn’t know you were a Girl Scout,” he said dryly.
She handed him the gun then went to work on the rope binding his feet. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Take your shoes off and walk around a bit. Quietly.”
