Armed and Famous

by Jennifer Morey

  Wade was not what she’d expected. When this all had started, she’d thought she could depend on him to help her, but she could not. Since then, she had taken matters into her own hands. She was close to resolving everything. Soon, she’d have her life back. If Wade didn’t ruin it for her first. He’d caught on to what she was doing, and now he was angry. That was why he’d hit her. And Lincoln had seen it. That scared her more than anything. What would Wade do? He knew too much about her. She’d trusted the wrong man. And now Lincoln had gotten involved.

  Sitting on her off-white Broyhill sofa, she turned on the big-screen television. Maddie came into the room, licking her mouth and hopping up onto the sofa beside her, smelling like dog food. Remy loved that.

  The dog curled up beside her and lifted her head to gaze up at her. Talk about a heartbreaker.

  “Oh, yeah, Maddie girl, you’re my dog again. Your new boyfriend isn’t here, and now I’m all you’ve got.”

  Maddie blinked and then slung a paw over her leg.

  Smiling, full of good feelings, Remy draped her arm over the dog and lifted the remote with the other.

  Maddie’s ears perked up and her eyes zeroed in on the front door. Remy’s pulse shot into action. Had the dog heard something? She looked toward the front door and then the kitchen and the back door. No one was there.

  Maddie jumped down from the sofa, hair rising all along her back. She growled.

  Remy stood and headed for the kitchen, where she kept a gun. At the threshold, Wade emerged from the garage, thwarting her with his own gun in hand. Shoulder-length hair, tall and muscular, he had an intimidating presence, a hoodlum presence.

  Had he been waiting in there? How had he gotten in? He must have entered while she’d been at Lincoln’s and hidden in the garage. She’d left the front door unlocked.

  “Put the dog outside,” he said.

  Beside her, Maddie growled again.

  When she didn’t move, Wade aimed the gun at Maddie. Remy smothered a sharp indrawn breath. Frozen, frantically undecided over what to do, she could only stare at the weapon. Should she go for Wade’s gun while it was aimed away from her, or do as he said?

  All her life she’d made sure she took care of herself, that she didn’t have to depend on anyone else. She was master and commander of her present moment and future. A gun aimed at her dog changed that. She was at Wade’s mercy. That went against everything she was. And made her mad.

  “I’ll kill the damn thing,” Wade said.

  She’d do anything to keep her dog safe. In charge again, she went to the back door and slid it open. “Come on, Maddie.”

  The dog glanced at her, and then Wade.

  Wade stepped forward.

  Maddie barked and moved closer to Remy, protecting her. Remy stepped outside, and the dog did, too. Remy was tempted to run.

  Wade appearing at the open door aiming the gun stopped her. Maybe Maddie would go next door or her barking would alert Lincoln.

  She reentered the house and closed the door before Maddie could follow. Her heart wrenched with the sound of frenzied barking.

  “In the living room,” Wade ordered her.

  Afraid Wade would do something about the barking, she did as he said. But as soon as she made it to the living room and faced Wade, Maddie’s barking stopped. She was running next door.

  “You’ve been sneaking around again,” Wade said, stepping close to her with dangerous eyes.

  Had he seen her? When?

  “What were you doing at my store three days ago?” he asked.

  “What are you talking about?” She played ignorance, the same as she’d done the last time he’d come accusing her of spying on him and his friends. That time she’d followed him when he’d met some men she hadn’t recognized. Nothing had been exchanged, but she suspected he’d gone to discuss one of his illegal gun deals, deals that he expected her to execute for him.

  He leaned in to bring his face close to hers, the gun at his side as though he didn’t think he needed it to keep her under control. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. You’re supposed to be working with me, not against me.”

  “If working with you means breaking the law, I’ll pass.”

  With a smirk, Wade straightened. “You’ve already done that. And if you don’t start doing what I tell you, the cops are going to find out.”

  Because he’d tell them. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to threaten her like this. Soon, she’d be able to call the cops herself and have him arrested. But for now, she had to be patient.

  Remy spotted Lincoln at the back door. She’d left it unlocked for him, hoping he’d retrace Maddie’s path. Sure enough, he had. Wade’s back was to him. Careful not to shift her eyes, she used her peripheral vision to watch Lincoln enter.

  “I’m only going to ask you once more,” Wade said.

  Before he could repeat the question, Lincoln put the barrel of his pistol against the back of Wade’s neck. “Put the gun down.”

  While Wade’s face morphed into deep, angry lines, Remy stepped back. He crouched and put the gun on the floor, rising with his hands away from his body, palms up.

  “Step away from it,” Lincoln commanded next.

  With an evil glare at her, Wade did as he was told.

  Remy knelt for the gun as the two men faced each other.

  “Why do you keep harassing Remy?” Lincoln asked.

  When Wade didn’t answer, he searched the man’s pocket until he found a wallet. One-handed, he flipped it open and found a driver’s license. Shaking it free, he let the wallet drop and read the name. Wade Nelson.

  “Is this address current?” he asked.

  “Go to hell.”

  Lincoln studied the license. “Why are you here?”

  “Just let him go,” Remy said.

  “Why don’t you ask her why I’m here?” Wade said.

  “I’m asking you.”

  Remy had a sick feeling that Lincoln was asking Wade because he suspected she was hiding something, and he had a better chance of finding out what that was with him. Remy could only wait and hope Wade didn’t reveal anything.

  “How much do you know about her?” Wade asked.

  Lincoln backed up, still holding his gun. “Why did you come here? What do you want from her?”

  Wade glanced at Remy, smug with the knowledge that he could expose her. She hated him for that. Lording it over her.

  “You’ll have to get that from her,” he finally said.

  He wasn’t going to tell him anything. Remy inwardly sagged with relief. Revealing certain things he knew would do damage to himself, too. If Wade ratted her out now, she’d never cooperate with him.

  “Get out of here, then,” Lincoln said.

  He was letting Wade go without pressing him for answers. But why had he looked at the driver’s license? What could he learn from that?

  Wade picked up his wallet.

  Lincoln handed him his license. “If I see you here again, I’ll send you on an ambulance ride.” Taking the gun from Remy, he removed the clip before handing it to Wade.

  He took it, and furious eyes turned to Remy. “You’re going to regret this.”

  Not if she could help it. She was in a race against time now.

  Wade yanked the door open and slammed it as he left.

  Lincoln turned to her. “What was that all about?” Beating her was enough, but threatening her with a gun took it to a new level.

  She didn’t say anything, just imagined what his reaction might be if she did, if she told him everything. Confiding in someone would be refreshing. But she could trust no one with that. Not anymore.

  “Why is he threatening you?” he asked.

  “Where’s Maddie?” she asked instead of answering.

>   His mouth pressed together ever so slightly, disappointedly perhaps, but his eyes gave nothing away. “I left her at my house.”

  “I’ll go and get her.” She started for the back door.

  “Remy.”

  Spinning to face him, she said, “Don’t ask questions, Lincoln. Number one, I barely know you, and number two, I can’t tell anyone about Wade.”

  “Why not?” He approached, his strong, confident strides making her wish she could trust him. And more.

  As he came to a stop, she almost gave in. But good sense intervened and she turned again, this time going out the door.

  “What kind of trouble are you in?” he asked from behind her.

  She went through the broken gate and opened his backyard gate.

  “I can help you,” he said.

  Could he? Against Wade? Maybe, if that was all it entailed. But it was far more dangerous than that. No. No one could help her. As always, she had to take care of herself. She could depend on no one else. Besides, if Lincoln knew how she’d crossed paths with Wade, he might change his mind about helping her. And she could not risk that.

  Chapter 2

  The next afternoon, Lincoln settled down on his sofa with a turkey sandwich and a football game. A bark at the back door was his daily signal to get back up. Maddie stood on the other side of the sliding-glass door, beyond the nose smudges he’d given up cleaning. A toy was on the step between her paws, her tail wagging excitedly.

  He opened the door. “You’re early.”

  She trotted past him, going to the pantry. Facing him, she sat, tail wiggling away.

  He chuckled and gave her the requisite treat.

  When she finished, she jumped up onto the sofa with him, curled up with her head on his leg. He rubbed her ears and watched her eyes slide closed.

  Any minute Remy would be here to get her. He was looking forward to it. More conversation. Picking through her secrets. Why he was inclined to involve himself in those secrets put him in check. People with secrets had a tendency to lie. What did he want from her? Her mystery or her body? Her body might not be worth the mystery. She might be the kind of person he hunted for bail jumping. He hadn’t called the cops because he still wasn’t sure she fit into that category.

  After a while, it dawned on him that Remy wasn’t coming over. Standing, he went to the front door and opened it. No sign of Wade’s car. Remy’s house was quiet.

  Where was she?

  He glanced back at Maddie, who still lay on the sofa, content as could be. If Remy was in trouble, the trouble had come after Maddie had left.

  Something wasn’t right. Going to the closet near the door, he opened the small safe he kept there and retrieved his pistol. Maddie jumped off the couch and was ready by the door.

  “No. You stay here.” He left her inside and hurried to the broken gate.

  Moving slowly toward the back door, which was left open as it had been last night, he heard a crash inside.

  “Where is it?” a man’s voice growled.

  More crashing.

  Lincoln peered through the open door. Remy sat on her sofa, one man standing off to the side aiming a gun. The other swiped items off the shelf, searching for something. Both were in suits, as though they’d been on their way to dinner when they’d stopped by here. The one aiming the gun at Remy was slightly heavyset with a receding hairline in an otherwise thick head of hair, the other muscular with dark, curly hair.

  They must have just arrived, or Maddie wouldn’t have come over to his house, and if she’d known they were there, she’d have been more agitated. Entering the house, he quickly moved out of sight into the kitchen, and then put his back to the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. At the edge of the wall, he emerged into sight and fired at the man pointing a gun at Remy, taking out his knee. The heavier man went down as his partner charged. Pivoting, Lincoln blocked the swing of the other man’s hand just in time. They sparred a few more times before Lincoln caught him open and rammed his fist into his larynx. As the man choked for air, Lincoln kicked him off his feet and kept him there with the sure aim of his gun.

  Checking on Remy, he saw the heavier man held his bleeding knee, and she had picked up his gun. She was resourceful, and he was glad she could overcome fear.

  Lincoln turned back to the curly-haired man. “Who are you?”

  The man didn’t answer. Lincoln hadn’t expected him to, but he hoped to at least glean some idea of why they were here.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  Still the man didn’t respond, merely looked up at him, waiting for a bullet. He wasn’t going to get one. Lincoln didn’t kill that way. He’d let the law do its job.

  “Lincoln!” Remy called, but her warning was too late.

  A third man rushed into the room from behind Lincoln and grabbed Remy before he could react. The third man hooked an arm around her neck and pressed a gun to her head. Another suit. Dark, short-shaved hair, pale-gray eyes.

  Two more men entered from the back door, both in suits, one taller than the other by just a couple inches, both lean in form, one blond and the other brunette.

  “Drop your gun,” the man holding Remy said against her ear.

  Remy’s eyes closed briefly, her renewed fear palpable. She knew these men, especially the one who had her. She dropped the gun she held, tossing it out of reach of the man still at Lincoln’s feet.

  “You, too,” the man said to Lincoln.

  Lincoln was outnumbered and outgunned, but he controlled his fear. Best to wait for his next opportunity. Whatever they were looking for, Remy had it. They had time, but probably not much.

  “Give your gun to my friend,” the man holding Remy said calmly.

  After flipping on the safety, Lincoln gave the curly-haired man his gun. The man took it and stood.

  “Search the house,” the one holding Remy said. “And make it quick.” He was the lead thug. He exuded a false sense of power that stemmed from his gun and the team he had with him.

  The man shot in the knee stumbled to his feet, and one of the tall, lean men helped him out the door. The other two began to tear apart Remy’s house—the curly-haired man and the other tall, lean man. A few minutes later, both came out from the hallway, one of them carrying a manila envelope.

  Lincoln checked Remy. Her eyes met his before she blinked long and slow, full of dread.

  One of the men handed the dark-haired one the envelope, and took over with a gun at Remy’s head.

  “Take care of them,” the dark-haired man said. “Then meet me at the OneDefense store.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man with the gun at Remy’s head said.

  The other jabbed Lincoln with his gun. “Try anything and my friend here will shoot her.”

  He believed him. Remy’s frightened eyes met his. These two were going to kill them. He winked at her. She had no idea what he was capable of, and humor could disarm fear. The best news was that dark-haired bastard had left only two of his men in charge of the task.

  She eyed him quizzically as they were forced outside. He imagined her thoughts. How could he joke at a time like this? They were about to be killed, and he was winking at her.

  He grinned, glancing from her to the man behind him. That man gave him a shove, a reaction to Lincoln’s smirk.

  Remy mouthed, “Stop it.” He was well aware of the danger, but succumbing to hopelessness would do them no good.

  Outside, he searched for signs that anyone would see them being taken. No cars drove by. No one stood in lit windows. The two armed men were careful. They checked first before guiding them to a parked SUV. It hadn’t been there when he’d gone over to Remy’s house.

  Remy was shoved into the back, and he was led to the front passenger seat. He wouldn’t risk her bein
g shot by trying anything just yet.

  The man drove toward the foothills, turning off on a two-lane highway and then off onto a dirt road that led to open space near the foothills west of Denver. It was dark. Even darker near the trees, where the driver stopped.

  He could hear Remy’s breathing.

  “Get out,” the driver said, “or she dies.”

  He highly doubted they’d off her in the car and leave all that evidence, but Lincoln indulged the man. Remy looked at him wide-eyed, as though she couldn’t believe how calm he was and how easily he did as he was told.

  He got out and waited for the man in the backseat to do the same, forcing Remy to get out after him. The driver got out, too, and Lincoln saw that he’d left the keys in the ignition. That would come in handy in a few minutes.

  When Remy left the car, he hit the backseat man’s gun hand at the same time he grabbed Remy by the arm and tugged her down. She fell onto her hip. Lincoln used his foot to knock the backseat man’s wrist. The gun fired and dropped from his grasp. Fisting a handful of the man’s hair, Lincoln rammed the man’s head down against the top edge of the car door, then drove his knee into the man’s sternum.

  He grunted in pain while Lincoln retrieved the gun and used it to bash the back of the man’s head. The man went down as gunfire from the other side of the car sent bullets through the windshield.

  Staying low, making sure Remy was still protected, Lincoln waited for the driver to reach the front fender of the SUV and then fired, hitting the shoulder of his gun arm. The gun dropped. Tactically moving in on the opportunity, Lincoln charged for the man. Around the front of the car, he knelt and picked up the gun, his gun. The driver sat on the ground grimacing, blood oozing from the gunshot wound.