The Firefighter’s Secret Baby

by Anna DeStefano

  “She’s fine,” Dean assured him.

  “But…” Facts. Focus on the facts, not on racing to your child or throttling Dean for considering keeping quiet about this.

  “There’s a problem with her respiration,” the female marshal said. “She—”

  “Brown…” Dean warned.

  “She’s responding to treatment,” Deputy Brown continued. “But there may be underlying causes that should be seen by a specialist. And—”

  “Brown!” Dean stepped between Randy and the woman. “The marshals on the scene have the situation under control, and—”

  “The marshals on the scene didn’t have a preemie baby brother who died when he was ten days old because of an undiagnosed heart murmur!” Brown faced down her boss. “Their baby might be fine. She might not be. Either way, this is a decision for that child’s parents to make. She needs to see a specialist.”

  “And she will,” Dean agreed in a clipped voice. “Just not back in Atlanta. Not anywhere that someone might be looking for her.”

  “My daughter has a heart problem?” Randy managed to get out. “And you’re discussing treatment options without consulting her mother or me?”

  “There’s no evidence—” Dean started to explain.

  “You!” Randy grabbed the female agent’s arm. “Brown, is it? Tell me what’s happening with my child, if for no other reason than it will help me keep her mother from jumping out the nearest window and stealing a car to get to her.”

  Which Sam would do.

  She might not know what the hell to do with her feelings for him. But Randy had no doubt she’d fight to the death to protect her sister and her daughter.

  Brown hesitated.

  “Someone has to trust me here.” Randy switched his focus to Max Dean. “Sam doesn’t. She doesn’t trust any of you, either. But she’ll listen to me. Tell me what I need to know about the baby, so I can help get through to her mother.”

  “What?” A gasp drew their attention toward the sitting room. No one had heard Sam open the door. She was staring at Randy. “You’re going to help them get through to me?”

  “You don’t understand.” Crowding her was the wrong move, but Randy couldn’t stop himself from stepping closer. “Just listen—”

  “Oh, I understand fine.” Sam backed away. “Sex didn’t do the trick, so it’s time to move on to using the baby? What? You’re going to get whatever information you can from these guys, so you can use that to get to me!”

  Randy rocked back on his heels. “I know you’re afraid and you’re convinced you’re alone in all this. But I—”

  “You’ll do whatever it takes to get what you want. That’s what you guys do.”

  “Us guys?”

  Sam was terrified, but it wasn’t of him. Randy was certain of that. She was still reeling from whatever was hounding her.

  “You do whatever you have to, to get what you want.” She pointed a finger at him. “You tell whatever lie works. Just like my protection detail. Nothing you say is the whole truth. Nothing you do is real. You’re all just like Luca. Just like when he—”

  “Sam, you need to calm down.” Dean stepped to Randy’s side.

  “No,” Randy insisted, “she needs to get this out, once and for all.”

  “The details about Luca are need-to-know,” Dean argued. “And—”

  “Oh, Randy knows plenty about the kind of man Luca is,” Sam insisted. “Don’t you, Lieutenant Montgomery? You both know exactly how to make me believe. You make me care about you, and—”

  “You care about me?” Randy repeated, holding his breath.

  “Of course I do!” she shouted. “You make me feel safe. Just like him, you made me need you, no matter how dangerous it is. Satisfied? You win. Now it’s time to turn it into something hateful and terrifying and destructive. Because I either have to let you go, or watch my brother come after you the way he did Peter!”

  There wasn’t a sound in the room.

  “It’s not going to turn into anything.” Randy wouldn’t let it. “I’m trying to make these bastards tell us what’s going on with our daughter. Then we’re going to figure this out together. Fight together. Because I…Wait. Your brother? Luca, the guy who killed your fiancé, is…your brother?”

  “YES, LUCA GIANFRANCO is my brother,” Sam said.

  It was exactly the reality check they both needed to put an end to what they’d started in the other room.

  “Let’s take a break,” Max said.

  “Let’s not.” Sam waited for Randy to say something. Anything.

  A stare was all she got. She’d been unkind and completely unfair. But at least the truth was out.

  “I’m a threat to everyone I’m near.” She realized he was standing too close again, and that she wanted him even closer. And that her growing dependence on Randy Montgomery terrified her far more than Luca Gianfranco ever had. “My entire family is.”

  “Revealing more about your past is a bad idea,” Max cautioned.

  “Putting this off so long was the bad idea, the hell with isolating my testimony until the grand jury hears it.”

  Sam was just as responsible as Luca for what had happened to her fiancé and her baby and the two deputies who’d died back at the hotel. She’d be responsible for anything that happened to Randy or his family. She’d been born into evil and had profited from it her entire childhood.

  It didn’t matter that she’d eventually tried to break free. She was a Gianfranco. Her family meant death to everyone who challenged her brother’s control. She wouldn’t let that happen to Randy, no matter how badly she needed him and their baby with her.

  She stared up at him.

  Their baby…

  He and Max had been arguing when she came in, about—

  “The baby? What were you saying about the baby? What’s wrong?” She looked at the somber faces of the agents and saw the fear in Randy’s eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong with my daughter…”

  The child who was God knew where, living with strangers, because Luca’s homicidal insanity made it impossible for Sam to keep her.

  The agents filtered out, leaving Sam to stare at Max. A hand soothed down her hair, over and over. It was a calming touch. Randy’s touch.

  She jerked away.

  Randy didn’t move from her side. His expression grew murderous as he looked at Max.

  “Tell us what’s happening with our daughter,” he insisted. “Enough with the half truths you think will keep Sam safe, or keep her testimony secure. Tell us the goddamn truth, and what your people plan to do about it!”

  Max’s arms were crossed. His game face was on. Then he nodded.

  “Your daughter is stable,” he said. “But on the trip to her new location she momentarily stopped breathing. It may—”

  “What!” Sam wilted onto one of the beds. She clenched her fingers so tightly she couldn’t feel them. Only it was Randy’s hand she had in a death grip. He was sitting beside her.

  “The doctors are saying it may be only a minor respiratory problem,” Max added. “It could have been due to the way she’d been positioned in her car seat. She’s been checked out by doctors at a trauma center near her new location, and they haven’t found any other physical symptoms. They’re keeping her overnight, but—”

  “At a regional hospital?” Sam asked. “What if they don’t have the equipment to diagnose the problem? What if—”

  “She’s being closely observed,” Max assured her. “They have what they’ll need to help her. If there are any new breathing issues, they’ll—”

  “How far are they from Atlanta? There have to be specialists who can—”

  “You mean Atlanta doctors who specialize in dealing with complications that arise with newborns?” Max asked. “The kind of doctors your brother would be having watched, now that he knows you gave birth in Atlanta? The bomb at the hotel means Luca’s on your trail again. Which means I have a leak of some kind on my hands, and—”

  “
But if she’s sick—”

  “Your daughter’s with the Montgomerys. She’s fine.”

  “But—”

  Randy squeezed her hand to stop her.

  “What about what that deputy said?” he asked. “Why was Brown talking about heart problems? What aren’t you telling us?”

  Max shoved his hands into his pockets instead of responding.

  “She’s my daughter,” Sam pleaded. A little girl Sam hadn’t let herself name for fear she’d grow too attached. Now, she might be dying. “My daughter’s sick and I can’t even hold her. I may never…see her again, if my brother has his way. The least you can do is be honest with us about what’s happening to her.”

  Us…

  The word felt so right with Randy there beside her.

  “The doctor said respiratory problems in a child so young could be a symptom of a congenital heart defect,” Max finally admitted. “They’re monitoring the baby through the night. In the morning they’ll decide if she needs to be seen by someone at a children’s hospital.”

  Randy’s head dropped. “But you think taking her to a larger hospital would almost guarantee putting her on Gianfranco’s radar.”

  “A newborn popping up with a need for specialized care?” Max asked. “No matter what precautions we took, we’d risk another leak. Gianfranco’s too well connected. The grand jury’s set to call for Sam’s testimony. Luca will be more motivated than ever to silence her.”

  “But you’ll protect the baby.” Sam clung to Randy’s arm to pull herself to her feet. “You promised you’d protect her and Gabby.”

  “Yes.” Max had never sounded more determined. “We’ll protect all of you as best we can, given the circumstances we’re dealing with.”

  “Circumstances I’m responsible for.” Sam swallowed, nausea creeping up the back of her throat.

  “This isn’t your fault,” Randy insisted, standing with her. “You—”

  “I’m the one who tried to leave my family’s world and have a normal life. I’m the one who got my fiancé shot. I’m the one who ran without thinking what that would mean for my baby sister, then ran again from the people trying to keep us safe. Exactly whose fault do you think it is?”

  “You’re just scared and off-balance, Sam.”

  “And look what I’ve let that fear do! All this time, I thought I was fighting back. I was going to stop Luca for good. Now we can’t even get our daughter the medical care she needs. Luca wants me, not her. Maybe I should just go back to New York. That way you could—”

  “No!” Randy said. “Going back to that bastard is out of the question.”

  “That bastard is my brother. He’ll kill you to get to me. That’s who I am. There’s no stopping what my family is, no matter what I say in court. No matter how hard I fight it. All of this…What you’re trying to do, what you’re wanting me to become…” What she wanted now, too. “It’s pointless, and the sooner I accept that, the safer everyone will be. I—”

  Randy’s kiss begged her to stop.

  “You’re not like your brother,” he insisted.

  “I’m part of his world.” She’d give anything to be free of the darkness. For her daughter. For Randy and his family. For herself. “And my testimony won’t be enough to protect any of us, will it?” she asked Max. “My brother is too powerful. Too connected.”

  “Testifying is a start, Sam,” Max said. “You have to see the big—”

  “A start?” Randy asked. “If this doesn’t end with her testimony, then when?”

  When Max said nothing, Randy’s attention shifted back to her. This was the real nightmare. Having him there, wanting their daughter, wanting her. And Sam maybe even believing him a little when he said he’d stay, no matter what.

  It was a dream wrapped in a nightmare.

  “This doesn’t end until Luca ends it,” she finally accepted, an idea blooming along with the need to rip her dream away from her brother’s control. “Which means my only chance to really be free of it, is to draw my brother out. He has to be the one to do something stupid for a change. Meanwhile, he’ll be so distracted, the Montgomerys will be able to get our daughter the specialized help she needs. I have to—”

  “Sam,” Max cautioned. “We’re going to stick to the plan, until—”

  “No,” Sam said over him. “What if…”

  The idea was still half formed, but it was there. It had always been there, but she’d been too afraid to face what she had to do. Then Randy had come back to her. And thanks to him and their baby, Sam could finally see what had to be done.

  “What if we use me as bait,” she said, “so this can finally end, once and for all?”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  SAM GLARED at Max while she ignored Randy.

  “You know I’m right,” she said to her federal agent. “It’s the only way we all get what we want out of this. You get Luca’s head on a platter. The people I care about are safe.”

  “By doing what?” Randy demanded.

  “By giving my brother a target he can go after—me, because I’m racing to save my newborn and being careless, the way I’ve been careless every step of the way up till now.”

  “You want to use our child as bait?”

  “No, just me. The baby will stay safe with your family. All I need is for Luca to believe—”

  “—that you’re taking our child to see a specialist?” Randy sounded sick. “It’ll be too easy a mark for him to pass up, right? He won’t be able to resist, and when the feds catch his men trying to kill you, again, they’ll have even more ammunition against the bastard.”

  Max glanced at the arm Randy had circled around Sam’s waist. He glanced at the BlackBerry he held in his hand. The device never stopped chirping for his attention. He finally looked at Sam.

  “The federal prosecutor would very much like to have more to throw at Luca,” he said. “My information says your brother may even be on the field of play himself now. Personally engaged in your pursuit for the first time, because—”

  “Because his minions keep botching things when they try to kill her!” Randy pulled Sam to his side. “Now he’s hitting the A-T-L to personally kick ass and take names, so things are looking up?”

  “If Sam wants a guarantee you can all have your lives back—” Max shrugged “—this might be your best shot.”

  “You said the grand jury’s about to call her testimony.”

  “Which is why Luca’s so revved up.” Sam reveled in the feel of Randy still holding her close, still wanting her, no matter what she’d said and done.

  Just give me this chance to make it right.

  She finally felt like she had a chance. Luca coming to Atlanta was a mistake. It was reckless. Her normally unemotional brother didn’t trust anyone else to finish Sam off.

  “You couldn’t have planned this any better if you’d tried.” Randy turned on Max.

  “This was my idea,” Sam said.

  “This ridiculous plan, yes. But what about that call you made to your sister that started this?” he demanded. “That’s how your brother’s men found you when your protection wasn’t around. Pretty damn convenient. How close were you going to let Luca get back at the hotel?” Randy asked Max. “I’m assuming the explosives and losing two deputies wasn’t in the prosecution’s plan to catch themselves a mobster, but you never know. Drawing this maniac out once the legal pressure was on—that’s been the goal from the start, right?”

  Max measured the way Randy was balanced on the balls of his feet, his muscled chest straining against his T-shirt. Max calmly pocketed his Black-Berry. He took off his jacket, folded it with careful deliberation and placed it over the edge of the bed. When he crossed his arms, his own muscles threatened to bust the seams of his starched dress shirt.

  Sam laid a palm on Randy’s shoulder, holding him back. Still, parts of what he’d said rang true. Not that it mattered—she was determined to end things with her brother before anyone else got hurt. But had she really
let herself be played that easily?

  “Is it true?” she asked Max.

  “It might be advisable,” her marshal said to Randy instead of her, “not to throw around accusations when you don’t know the first damn thing about this situation beyond how quickly you want to get in Sam’s pants every time you two are alone together.”

  Randy tensed to launch himself at Max. Sam grabbed him with both hands, aggravating her shoulder. She tried to hold the pain in, but a gasp escaped. Randy turned to her, relaxing so that she could let go without worrying about him attacking a federal marshal.

  He pulled her close, fitting her head beneath his chin and softly rubbing her shoulder.

  “You’re a manipulative bastard,” he said to Max. “That’s what I know. And things got considerably more promising for you and your team and this prosecutor you’re fronting for, once this pretend life you’ve shoved Sam into went to shit. Now you’ve got her offering herself up for even more danger. If you didn’t plan it, I find it hard to believe you didn’t at least give her enough space to be reckless enough to expose herself to Gianfranco’s people.”

  “Sam—” Max started to say.

  “Don’t Sam me in that you’re my big brother voice.” She was holding back tears, and she hated it. She was sick and tired of feeling weak and helpless. “My real big brother’s a psychopath. The role doesn’t come highly recommended. Tell me Randy’s just being paranoid. Tell me that you had no idea I’d run to Savannah, until I got back and you read me the riot act. Tell me you didn’t know I’d called my sister and alerted Luca that you’d hidden me in Macon, until I turned up banged up on an Atlanta interstate. Tell me…”

  One more lie she’d believe…

  She turned her face into Randy’s strong chest.

  “I didn’t know, either time,” Max insisted. “But…”

  “But?” Randy asked for her. “Don’t stop now, Marshal Dean. Tell us exactly how your team’s managed to mess Sam’s protection up so completely—on purpose.”

  “But,” Max continued. “I’ve been recently informed that you’ve had a shadow, since the first day we placed you.”