Kiss Midnight Goodbye (Midnight Blue Beach Book 3)

by Olivia Jaymes

  Peyton had always believed there was good inside of Greg and there it was. He was trying to protect her and Evandria. He’d given his life to do it. If only he’d trusted her with the truth, she could have helped him.

  “Nigel,” Ellis pressed. “Did he turn against you? He was the one that manipulated us into finding out about Archer.”

  The woman half-nodded, but Peyton could see the anger simmering under the surface. Whatever Nigel Holmwood had done, her mother was furious about it.

  “He went off script. He decided he wanted more power and control. I certainly wasn’t going to let that happen. But if you’re asking if he pulled a few strings to send you in a certain direction, the answer is yes.”

  They’d joked about the universe bringing them together. Peyton wanted the truth.

  “Was it Nigel who made sure all three of us were invited to that fundraiser where we met?”

  Buffy’s lips flattened. “That was an unfortunate accident that has caused me a great deal of trouble and effort to keep you otherwise occupied. But you should thank me, my child. I was the one that made sure the road was blocked that night so you couldn’t get to Roy’s on time. I wanted Hollister dead but I only wanted you to be afraid. I wanted you to be worried about someone trying to kill you so your little group didn’t have time to figure out what was truly going on.”

  So they had been manipulated at every turn.

  Funny, Peyton didn’t feel so grateful at the moment.

  “What about you?” Ellis challenged. “Did you ever worry about your children?”

  Peyton wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer to that question but there was no escaping from this room. Buffy McMillen raised her chin, her blue eyes an icy gray.

  “I never wanted to marry or have children, Detective. I did it out of duty to my family legacy. Charles McMillen was chosen very carefully by my father. My mission in being his wife was clear. All these years I’ve kept my husband’s efforts in check by reporting on his actions to my Evandria brothers and sisters. But I did care about my children. My dream was for them to follow in my footsteps and work for the glory of the organization but it became clear that Jensen was his father’s son and Peyton didn’t have the guts to do what needed to be done. She’s not the type to die for a cause—or kill for it either.”

  It didn’t even hurt. Hearing her mother say Peyton was weak didn’t even begin to cause any pain. She’d divorced her emotions from her difficult parents years ago. That realization was quite freeing.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mother,” Peyton said, her tone sharp. “I’m not weak. I’m stronger than you could ever imagine. Did you have me blown up too? You must have been disappointed when I lived. Sorry about that.”

  “It was merely meant as a warning,” Buffy replied, a serene expression on her face. “I’m just sad that you didn’t take it. As for your strength, you have surprised me. But you still don’t have what it takes. Life is messy, my dear, and sometimes the things you have to do are too.”

  Peyton’s stomach lurched when she remembered the scene in the shed at the house. “The house you lent us. The one that was supposed to be so safe. You killed someone there, didn’t you?”

  Buffy shook her head. “Not me, but some of my associates. We use that property to…interrogate those we need information from. Actually I own most of the property in that area and all the residents work for me. However I had no idea the people who worked for me had been so sloppy. How did you know?”

  Ellis took one step back, pulling Peyton along with him. “Blood and teeth. You need to tell your goons to clean up after themselves a little better. If you didn’t want us to find that, why did you send us there?”

  “So I would know where you were. It made keeping an eye on you so much easier. You kept finding the cameras and listening devices so I simply put you in the center of my employees.”

  Peyton snuck another look at her father. If he wasn’t already gone, he needed help right away. They needed to bring this to an end, but how? Ellis and Buffy each had a weapon and neither were going to give it up easily. Maybe the servants had heard the shot?

  “You killed my husband and my friends’ husbands.”

  “They were lousy men. The world is better for their deaths.”

  “You don’t get to decide that, Mother.”

  Buffy McMillen sidled over to the desk, the firearm still trained on Ellis and Peyton. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m going to do it again. Right now, as a matter of fact. I’ve decided you both have to die. I know you don’t see it this way, Peyton, but it’s an honor to die really. Gwen was sacrificed for Evandria’s glory. Her parents understood that we must do whatever is necessary for the mission, even lose a child. I understand that too and I’m willing to do what needs to be done. That’s the difference between you and me.”

  Ellis’s grip on Peyton tightened to the point where she could hardly take a breath. This close, she could feel the blood pumping through his veins in time to her own racing heart. Did he have a plan to get them out of this?

  “What about Hampton?” Ellis asked. “Or the rest of the staff? They had to have heard the shot and now you want to fire off a few more rounds? That’s bound to get more attention than you want.”

  The older woman shook her head. “They’re too well-trained to call anyone. Besides, this room is soundproof. Chuck was paranoid about people overhearing his business conversations. His foresight was one of his better qualities.”

  The dark red pool around Peyton’s father had grown. There was no way he could survive losing that amount of blood. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and she blinked hard to stem the tide. Now was not the time to fall apart. If they survived this, she might have a chance later.

  “If you shoot me, I’ll shoot you,” Ellis countered, a hard edge to his voice. “Trust me when I say I have no issues pulling this trigger.”

  Buffy leaned against the edge of the desk, looking unruffled by Ellis’s declaration.

  “I believe you. That’s why we’re going to do this a different way. A murder-suicide. You’re going to shoot Peyton and then shoot yourself.”

  Ellis’s entire body tensed and Peyton could swear he wasn’t breathing. The material of his shirt was damp under her palms from the sweat pouring down his back and neck. She wanted to say something to Ellis like how much she loved him and that she was glad she’d fallen for him even if they didn’t live through this. He was the best man she’d ever known. All of a sudden she had so much to tell him – so many things she wanted them to experience together – and there didn’t appear to be any more time to do it.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You’re going to die either way today. Now you can shoot Peyton and give her a clean and quick death or I can do it and you can watch her die slowly, bleeding to death. I’m told that’s a painful way to go. It’s up to you. If you love her, you should be kind.”

  Ellis didn’t move a millimeter, firmly parked in front of Peyton. Tension radiated from his motionless frame and she tried to keep as still as possible behind him, not wanting to throw off his concentration when a gun was pointed at his heart.

  “You have to shoot through me to get to her.”

  “Fine. I’m tired of all of this. I’ll think of a good story later.”

  It happened in a blur of motion.

  Buffy straightened from where she’d been lounging against the large oak desk, a loud explosion and a flash of light coming from the muzzle of her firearm. Ellis grunted and hunched over, his legs giving out as he sunk to the carpet, too heavy for Peyton to hold up. The firearm in his hand dropped to the floor next to him and Peyton didn’t hesitate, dropping to her knees at his side and reflexively reaching for it.

  This was all her fault. If Ellis was dead, it was because of her. But he’d helped her change more than he would ever know, and she wasn’t the quiet little wife anymore who looked the other way because it was easier. Ellis had said she was fierce and she would sho
w him that he was right.

  Tears streaming down her face and barely able to see through them, Peyton raised the gun toward the woman she’d called Mother for thirty-five years – a woman who had shot two men in cold blood – and squeezed the trigger, the kickback sending her sprawling on her ass. Buffy McMillen’s silk Chanel suit had a circle of red on the front near her abdomen and she too had fallen to the floor.

  The door to the office flew open and Grant Hollister along with two other men stormed in, guns blazing. The took one look at the carnage and holstered their weapons, one of the men pulling out his phone instead to make a call.

  Grant fell to his knees next to Peyton, whose fingers were still clutching the weapon, ears ringing from the gunfire. Her teeth were chattering and her body shivering as a blast of cold came over her.

  “Peyton, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Hollister’s gaze raked her head to toe. “We’ve been watching Nigel and Buffy for a long time and when Willow told me you and Ellis were here…”

  “911 for Ellis,” she choked out as she dropped the gun and leaned over to check her lover’s pulse. Her fingers found the spot on his neck and she cried even harder, her body wracked with sobs as she felt it under her fingertips.

  Ellis was alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ellis felt like he’d been hit by a cannonball. In all the years he’d been a cop he’d never been shot, although he’d come close a time or two. A few weeks with Peyton and he took one in the abdomen, losing his spleen and gaining some bragging rights among his fellow police officers.

  Thank God Buffy McMillen was a lousy shot.

  The society matron might be morally fine with taking a life but apparently she didn’t have that much practical experience doing it. If she’d aimed three or four inches higher he’d be dead.

  Or maybe not. He wasn’t leaving Peyton of his own free will. They had a life together and he wasn’t going to give that up.

  Waking up from anesthesia wasn’t a walk in the park. It was goddamn painful, in fact. The smell of antiseptic assailed his nostrils and his thinking was muddled. His lips and mouth felt as dry as a desert. He tried to move his arm but it was connected to several tubes and he only succeeded in hurting himself as a sharp jolt shot up through his rib cage and down his left leg.

  Note to self. Don’t move.

  “Peyton,” he croaked, his fingers landing on her head where it was lying on the bed next to him, her hair silky to the touch. Upon hearing his voice she jerked awake, blinking away the sleep and rubbing her eyes.

  “You’re awake,” she said, relief etched in her beautiful face. “You’ve been asleep for several hours.”

  He’d been conscious when Grant had brought him to this private hospital, in and out until they’d taken him back for surgery. At least he thought it was Hollister. Had it all been a dream brought on by painkillers?

  “Your parents…Hollister.”

  The doctors had said something about a collapsed lung and fuck, it hurt to talk or breathe. He wasn’t sure if his chest hurt because he’d been shot or because his heart was simply too full of love for this woman. His warrior.

  “Easy,” Peyton said, smoothing his hair off of his forehead, her fingers cool against his cheek. She was a blaze of color in the drab green of the room but then she was gorgeous every moment of the day.

  Who was he kidding? She was everything.

  He opened his mouth but she shook her head and pressed her hand to his lips.

  “If you promise not to talk too much, I’ll explain what’s happened in the last twelve hours. Promise? Then I need to let them know you’re awake.”

  He nodded but it wouldn’t be easy. Silence wasn’t his natural state.

  His gaze ran around the room. Private, which his insurance sure as hell didn’t cover. The bed was pretty comfortable for a hospital too, along with the pillow and blanket. There was even a big screen television on the wall. All that was missing was a wet bar.

  “First off, we’re in a Midnight Blue Beach clinic I didn’t even know existed. It’s for Evandria members exclusively. Whenever I drove by here I thought it was a nursing home for the elderly. Grant said you had the best surgeon in the United States.”

  Knowing these Evandria types, Ellis believed it.

  A sob escaped and her shoulders shook. “I know we joked about you taking a bullet for me but you didn’t have to actually do it, you idiot.”

  If Ellis’s recollections of the scene were correct, her mother had been hell bent on killing both of them. The fact that only one of them had been shot was a miracle he wasn’t going to question.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. “Grant brought you and my parents here. His friends helped.”

  Ellis had a vague recollection of two men with Grant but their faces were fuzzy.

  Coughing, Ellis struggled to get out the words. “Did they…?”

  She shook her head, tears rolling down her already red cheeks. Her eyes were swollen and he had a feeling she’d been crying for some time. He wanted to make everything better but this was one hurt he couldn’t fix.

  She pointed toward the door. “Dad didn’t make it and neither did my mother. I mean Buffy. Jensen is out there working with Grant to create a cover story for all of this and to plan the funerals. They’re leaning toward saying they were in a car accident.”

  “Nigel?”

  “He’s been taken into custody. Evandria custody.”

  After seeing Caldwell’s fate, they all knew what that meant. Bailey was going to be devastated.

  Stroking his hand, she gave him a brave smile. “Evandria had an emergency meeting and installed Grant as president, along with his two friends as his chief of staff and vice president. He’s in control and already has many of the rogue faction in custody.” A sob choked her and she had to take several deep breaths before she could continue. “We did it. We brought them down.”

  So drugged up he could barely respond, he had to make due with squeezing her hand as a lump grew in his own throat. There had been so many times he’d never thought they’d see this day come but it had.

  At such a terrible price. His girl had lost so much.

  A tear fell onto the back of his hand and she sniffled, grabbing a tissue from the side table.

  “Greg, Frank, and Alex are being hailed as heroes. You too. Grant offered us lifetime membership.” She pressed a hand to her cheek. “I said we’d have to think about it.”

  A member of Evandria. That would be…surprising…but he did respect Hollister and what the man was trying to do.

  He sucked in a painful breath to get the next words out. “Chase…Josh…”

  She nodded, scrubbing at her tears. “They’re in the waiting room along with Willow and Bailey. They can’t wait to see you but the doctors would only let me stay in here. Is there anything I can get you? Do you want some water?”

  Water sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world. He couldn’t believe how thirsty he was despite what was probably a saline drip going directly into his vein.

  But first…

  Slowly and carefully, he lifted his unattached arm and beckoned her closer so he could whisper into her ear. She bent down, keeping to his side so she didn’t press her weight onto his wound.

  “What is it, Ellis? I need to let the nurse know you’re awake.”

  The way the monitors were going crazy he was sure they knew. But he was so fucking proud of her and he had to let her know before everyone else joined them. She’d been through hell and she was going to survive it. He’d be there to help her even if it took a lifetime.

  “You–”

  Pain clutched at his chest and he couldn’t get the words out. He had to wait and take a few breaths before trying again but she was already shaking her head.

  “It’s okay. You can tell me later.”

  He could wait but he didn’t want to. This was important.

  “You…are…fierce…and…I…love…you.”


  Her smile was the warmest sunshine on a gray day and at that moment she gifted it to him even as more tears fell.

  Drawing a shaky breath, she nodded in agreement.

  “I am fierce, and I love you too.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Ten months later…

  Exhausted and sore, Peyton’s heart had never been more full of love and gratitude. The universe must have been sorry about what it had done to her last year because it was doing its best to make up for it. She had never been happier or more satisfied with her life.

  After all that had happened, Ellis had devoted himself to her and never looked back. They’d married six months later. There hadn’t been any reason to wait, plus she was already pregnant.

  Was there anything sexier than a man holding a baby?

  Her handsome husband strutted around the hospital room – the same one he’d recovered in only a year ago – but this occasion was much different. This time he was showing off their newborn, daughter Sienna Marie Hunter, just six pounds, three ounces. She had Peyton’s blue eyes and Ellis’s dark hair. Thankfully, she also had inherited her mother’s temperament, sweet and calm.

  With a pout Bailey held out her arms. “It’s my turn to hold her.”

  Ellis leaned down and rubbed his nose against little Sienna’s. “Actually I think it’s Willow’s turn.”

  The blonde’s eyes went wide and she held up her hands in surrender. “I think I’ll stick with dogs. What if I drop her?”

  “You won’t drop her.” Peyton giggled at the terrified look on her friend’s face. “Go ahead. It’ll be fine.”

  Reluctantly Willow accepted the sleeping child from Ellis, her features softening as she gazed down at Sienna. “She is cute.”

  She was beautiful, everything she and Ellis had dreamed about.

  Josh leaned in and ran a gentle finger over the baby’s furled fist. “Ellis said he’s going to want a boy next, Peyton. Has he mentioned that yet?”

  Frequently. But then she was completely on board with the idea.

  “He has but I think we might wait a year or two.”