Calculated Vendetta

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Calculated Vendetta Page 18

by Jodie Bailey


  He planted a kiss on her nose, then tipped his head until their foreheads met, his lips a breath away from hers. “I walked out on you because I was afraid and thinking I needed to be a different man if I wanted to be who God intended.”

  Casey’s heart stuttered against her ribs. If she tilted her head even half an inch, his lips would be on hers. But she needed to hear what he had to say, even if being this close to him was exquisite torture. She swallowed against the pain in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was wrong?”

  “Very wrong.” His arms slid around her, and he tugged her closer. “Because the man I’m supposed to be is the one standing here right now, with you.”

  She might pass out if her breathing got any more shallow. “What about—”

  “Wait.” Stepping back, he opened his hand. A sapphire ring wreathed with small diamonds rested on his palm.

  Casey’s breath hitched, tears pushing behind her eyes. “That’s my grandmother’s engagement ring. How—”

  “Your mom brought it with her.” He held the ring out to her. “Case, I’ve been an idiot, totally clueless about what God wanted for my life until now. Because now I know it’s you. I love you, and I’m not leaving. I’m staying here as long as the army will let me, and I’m really, really praying that when they tell me it’s time to go, you’ll be packing your rucksack right beside me.”

  A week ago, she’d have said she’d given up on her heart’s secret dream, yet here it was in front of her, asking for her heart. “Yes.”

  Travis grinned and slipped the ring onto her finger, then planted a kiss on her wrist.

  Everything else Casey had to say could wait, because Travis was saying it all for her. With a peace deep in her soul, Casey pressed her lips to his and met him all the way, finally, completely, finding the home she’d always dreamed of.

  * * * * *

  If you enjoyed CALCULATED VENDETTA, look for these other military suspense books from Jodie Bailey:

  FREEFALL

  CROSSFIRE

  SMOKESCREEN

  COMPROMISED IDENTITY

  BREACH OF TRUST

  DEAD RUN

  Available now from Love Inspired!

  Find more great reads at www.LoveInspired.com.

  Keep reading for an excerpt from TEXAS TAKEDOWN by Heather Woodhaven.

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  Dear Reader,

  When I was little, we were vacationing at the beach. My mom found a piece of sea glass. Sand and surf had smoothed the bumps and edges of a broken Coke bottle.

  She handed it to me and said, “We’re like this glass. We start out broken from sin. Jesus is like the waves and the sand, making us shiny and beautiful.”

  It was a lesson I’ve always remembered. The greatest thing Mom taught me was God is in everything, and He is everywhere. If we wait for Him, He will reveal Himself.

  I like to think she learned that from my grandmother, who once called and said, “I was making the bed, and the way the light came through the window and hit the bedspread... I sat down and cried, because I felt how much God loves me.”

  Funny thing is, I’ve stood in our kitchen—which used to be hers—as the light fell over the butcher-block island and felt that same thing.

  God loves you right where you are. He is a Zephaniah 3:17 God: “The Lord your God in your midst, the Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”

  I hope you will take a few minutes alone with Him and let Him tell you how much He loves you!

  I also hope you will drop by and say hello over at www.jodiebailey.com or at [email protected]. I’d love to hear how you’ve seen God in the small things, too!

  Jodie

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense story.

  You enjoy a dash of danger. Love Inspired Suspense stories feature strong heroes and heroines whose faith is central in solving mysteries and saving lives.

  Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired Suspense every month!

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  Texas Takedown

  by Heather Woodhaven

  ONE

  Isabelle Barrows was hopelessly lost, caught on a winding path bordered by two wooden fences. Signs on either side read Pardon Our Construction. Without the six-foot-high fences, it would’ve been a pretty area with historic homes to view. Too bad she wouldn’t see the result. She’d be back home from the conference within the week.

  No wonder the walking feature in her maps application was considered beta because it’d led her on a convoluted route. The still tree branches that hung over the walkway offered her some shade. Sweat trickled off her brow. People had told her humidity in Texas would be intense, but she’d shrugged it off. She lived on the Oregon coast. She knew humidity, thank you very much. How wrong she’d been. Texas humidity was an entirely different beast. The air felt heavy against her skin.

  Isabelle exited the app and pulled up a different map of the area. She had to be somewhere near Hemisfair Park and not too far away from San Antonio’s River Walk.

  A twig snapped. She glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the sound. A man in a dark gray shirt and black pants turned the corner. Isabelle smiled, but the man’s steely gaze remained void of emotion as he quickened his pace toward her.

  The fences designed to keep tourists safe from construction now seemed the opposite. How fast could she scale one if needed? She lengthened her stride and straightened her spine, hoping to exude confidence.

  Her dad had taught her that criminals preferred to avoid confronting sure-footed people. Besides, maybe she misread the man’s intentions, and he was just late for a meeting. Her neck tingled. But should she call the police on instinct alone?

  Isabelle lifted her faux leather messenger bag off her shoulder and slipped it diagonally across her torso in case she needed to run or vault a fence. The weight of the laptop inside the bag pressed against her hip, but it wasn’t enough to slow her down.

  Up ahead the fences stopped, and the path opened into a park. She pumped her arms, no longer caring how foolish she might look to the man behind her. His breathing reached her ears. He was keeping up with her.

  Not a good sign.

  Another path intersected diagonally. Up ahead, waiting underneath the shade of a tree, a man in a brown shirt and tan pants straightened. Oh, good. A kind stranger who could help her if she needed it.

  Isabelle offered a cursory smile. The stranger narrowed his eyes and strode toward her, exactly as the man behind her had done. A shiver ran down her spine.

  She twisted and hustled in the general direction of the tourist area by the River Walk. No matter that it
led her away from her own hotel. Her lodging was on the outskirts, away from the attractions. But right now, she wanted to be around people, lots of them.

  In late afternoon at the end of August, the temperature and humidity seemed to keep everyone indoors. She scanned her surroundings and saw only trees, park benches and several other paths. Even a street would have been welcome at this point, but she had no idea which direction would lead her to one without taking time to look at a map.

  The Mexican Cultural Institute to her left sported a Closed sign, or she’d have darted in there. The area opened slightly, but she was surrounded by more closed buildings on each side except for the stairs leading down, presumably to the River Walk.

  She glanced over her shoulder. The men were side by side, walking behind her. They knew each other? Their eyes locked on hers as if homing in on a target.

  She pushed off her toes and started to run. They followed suit. She was trapped inside her worst nightmare.

  The memory of her dad’s countless air-force lectures moved to the forefront of her mind. “You’ve crashed in enemy territory,” he’d drill. “What’s the first thing you do?”

  “Establish and maintain communication with friendly forces, sir,” she’d respond.

  Isabelle held down the button on her phone until it vibrated, ready for her command. “Call the police,” she shouted. Her fingers, slick with sweat, tightened around the phone as she pumped her arms.

  Her hard-soled flats tapped on the steps. The thin guardrails lined the rock walls on either side of the curved staircase. It sounded like a stampede coming her way as the men’s footsteps echoed off the rock.

  She jumped the final three steps onto a thin sidewalk that curved along the water. Except this wasn’t like the rest of the River Walk. It was an artificial cave formation. Stones the size of basketballs were placed strategically throughout the underground pedestrian area.

  She sprinted along the canal, pressing the phone against her ear. “Hello?” She hadn’t taken the time to press the speaker function. It didn’t seem worth the two seconds of focus it would’ve taken her to find the right button.

  A ringing hit her ears. “Pick up, pick up.”

  “What is your emergency?”

  “Two men are after me.” She panted.

  “What’s your location?”

  The area resembled an empty cement cave that opened a short distance ahead. About a block away, another set of curved stairs led to a bridge and what looked like a hotel. “I don’t know. A grotto-looking thing near the River Walk. It’s behind a shiny skyscraper.”

  Her lungs hurt from the effort of sprinting and talking. She chanced a look. The men had split up. One man was on the opposite side of the water while the other was behind her. Up ahead, the two sidewalks converged. The truth hit her in the gut. If the man on the other side sped up, he’d be able to trap her. “They’re gaining on me. Can’t you use GPS?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but the accuracy—”

  Isabelle didn’t take the time to listen. She dropped the phone into the front pocket of her bag but left it on. She couldn’t keep up her speed without using both of her arms.

  A few doors and glass windows lined the rock walls. She sprinted to one door, but it was locked. The rest of the windows were dark. All empty. She’d been told this was the slow season, but she’d had no idea it’d be deserted. Her throat burned as she pushed her legs to go faster. The man on the opposite side would beat her at this rate. Her flats barely stayed on her feet as her soles slapped against the concrete.

  She rounded the corner and gasped. The sidewalks didn’t simply merge as she thought she’d seen. She would be forced to cross a path surrounded by water to get to the other side, but she had no choice or the man behind her would catch her.

  She ran into the middle of the path and froze. One man stood, hands out, ready to grab her, on the other end. The other approached from behind. And on either side of her there was nothing but water.

  She was trapped.

  The first assailant rattled off a couple of sentences to the other one in a language she didn’t recognize. Her breath caught. What were they planning to do with her? The man in front of her pulled out a shiny knife. An involuntary shudder ran down her spine.

  The memory of her dad sitting at the dinner table counting on his fingers played in the back of her mind. “Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape,” he’d rattle off over and over. “Understood, Isabelle?”

  She curled her hands into fists and widened her stance. She inhaled and pulled in her core muscles. The reality was, she couldn’t fight two men at once. She glanced at the water. Diving without knowing the depth could be equally dangerous, but what worried her more was the laptop in her bag.

  The flash drive doubling as a two-sided jeweled heart around her neck would likely survive with an overnight stay in a bowl of rice, but her laptop wouldn’t fare nearly as well. She’d have come all this way for nothing when Uncle Hank was counting on her.

  Her only other choice would be to leap diagonally to the tower of river rocks that held up the ceiling. Around the base of the tower, a rim of cement looked just big enough to get a foothold. If she made it to the tower, she could bypass the intersection of paths and keep going. She inhaled. Even if she made the jump, there was a chance her head would bump into the tower, a painful but not deadly possibility.

  She sank her hand into the front pocket of her bag and twisted sideways so she could see both men at once. “Don’t take another step.” Her voice shook, but she could see the uncertainty of whether she had a weapon cross their faces. They remained on either end of the bridged path.

  She took advantage of their momentary hesitation and backed up. It was now or never. She needed to soar like a ballerina over the water to the rock pillar. After three steps, she shoved off with her back foot.

  Isabelle arched her back and stretched her right leg out. Her foot touched the edge of the cement rim. If she stopped now, her head would slam into the pillar, or she’d slip into the water. She twisted her hips and her left foot made contact for the briefest of seconds, pressing her into another diagonal leap onto the sidewalk.

  Her ankle rolled underneath the awkward jump. The messenger bag hit the concrete with a decided crunch. She cried out and dared a look behind her. The men were both past the bridge behind her and were almost at arm’s reach. Small rocks pressed into her hands as she pushed herself upright and sprinted, despite the lightning bolts of pain shooting up her leg.

  Escape. She had to escape.

  She screamed through the pain. “Help!” Her arms flailed as she pushed her stinging quadriceps to go faster, to keep up with the desire for speed. The sidewalk curved around another brick tower and then the ceiling disappeared. She squinted into the sudden sunlight. There...there in the distance, a boat with its motor running sat in the water.

  A bearded man wore a pair of olive-colored overalls—a uniform of some sort. He looked up at her, confusion on his face.

  “Help me!” She passed a trash can and flung it down behind her as she kept running. She doubted it would slow the men much, but every second counted. Would she make it to the barge in time? And would it matter?

  * * *

  Matt McGuire’s heart jumped to his throat. The frazzled woman ran like her life depended on it. She was either mentally challenged or seriously in danger. Either way, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to help.

  He boosted the motor and closed the distance between them. She glanced behind her and took a flying leap to the barge. She collapsed in a heap. “Drive,” she cried.

  At the sight of two men rounding the corner—one brandishing a long knife—he didn’t need to be told twice. He reversed and sped away, pushing the barge to a speed he’d yet to try. He steered it at a sharp curve into the main River Walk loop. A po
lice boat or officers on bicycles had to be somewhere for him to flag down.

  The woman rubbed her ankle on the floor of the barge. She seemed okay, though. “Have you called the police?”

  “Yes.” Her breathing sounded heavy even over the hum of the motor. She kept looking over her shoulder.

  “They can’t get you now,” he said. “So, the police said they were on the way?”

  “Um.” She pulled a phone from her bag and held it up to her ear. “Hello?” She frowned. “I can’t believe they hung up on me. I couldn’t run and talk at the same time. I thought they could use the phone locator to find me.”

  A few tourists walked past the shops and restaurants, but nothing was hopping yet. In a couple of hours, people would fill the walkways to bursting. “Their response time has gotten much better the past couple of years, but it still takes the police several minutes. I imagine the GPS thing isn’t as accurate as we’d like to think.”

  She straightened. “I guess it’s possible I accidentally hung up on them while I ran. I can’t thank you enough for helping me. I think you saved my life.”

  While he kept his eyes forward, he noted in his peripheral vision that she seemed quite attractive when not screaming. And while her voice wasn’t crystal clear over the motor, it did have a pleasant timbre and reminded him of a girl he once knew. “You’re a tourist?”

  “I’m here for a conference.”

  He nodded. At any given time there were between three and six conferences going on in the area. Late August was considered their off-season, but even then his hotel did well because the conferences never stopped. “For future reference, you probably should stick to the tourist areas. Outside the main River Walk, you can run into some sketchy characters.”

  “I never planned to end up somewhere alone. I blame my app.” She shook the phone. “I’m going to call the police again.”

 

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