She was sure that if he felt threatened Julien would get hurt, maybe killed.
Where’s Cole?
Kat forced herself further between the two seats. Her hands were still bound but she leveraged herself up enough to see the pair clearly through the windshield.
Julien waved as he stumbled from side to side, grinning and laughing. He glanced at the van during the bobbing and weaving, the towel waving from side to side. The closer he got to the van, the clearer she could see his face, the makeshift disguise falling away.
Robertson shouted something, his hand going inside his pocket.
Julien looked directly at the windshield and locked eyes with Kat, startling them both.
His expression changed. The joyful, drunken face flashed into a rage, his lips curling back in a snarl as he zeroed in on Robertson, Julien now gripping the wine bottle like a club.
Kat screamed as she saw her kidnapper grab the hidden pistol, the weapons race now on. There was no way Julien could cover the distance before Robertson got his gun out and fired.
She was going to have a front-seat view of a murder.
With the last of her energy she threw herself forward, through the gap in the seats and onto the steering wheel. Her back ached and for a second she thought she was going to throw up, still recovering from the previous blow to her head.
The blare of the horn deafened her even as she saw Robertson turn and glare at the windshield, locking her in his sights. The shock in his eyes flashed to anger.
He’s going to shoot me. Then Julien.
The thought drilled through her brain as she watched the pistol rise in slow motion, her mind trying to process her imminent death.
Instinctively she threw herself down on the driver’s seat. It’d only buy her a few seconds but if Robertson went for her, Julien might be able to either get away or reach the kidnapper before they both died.
In her mind it was a fair trade.
Before she lost a clear view of Robertson, Kat spotted a blur in the window, her pulse pounding in her ears as she tried to process what she was seeing.
A shot rang out, freezing her thoughts in place.
Moments passed as she lay facedown on the padded seat, every muscle in her body screaming for help. Her body was twisted around, and even with her hands in front of her, it was impossible to get into any position that offered relief.
She wanted to rise but was terrified of what she’d see.
Julien. Cole.
Robertson.
She had no doubt it’d been Cole racing by her, coming up on her kidnapper from behind. Like she had no doubt someone had been hurt, maybe killed in the past few seconds.
Sirens approached, growing louder by the second. She couldn’t place how many, the different wails rising and falling around her.
A few minutes later a hand landed on the door handle and her breath caught in her throat. She tensed, ready to deal with the consequences of her actions.
The door flew open and Kat looked up, blinking at the sudden burst of light coming in.
“You are a handful,” Julien proclaimed as he stared at her. The red blotches on his shirt scared her for a second until she caught a whiff of the wine.
He grinned. “Cole is busy dealing with Robertson. And by dealing, I mean he’s got him on the ground in handcuffs. The police have arrived.” Julien reached in and pulled her across the seat and out into the alley, his arms curling around her. “There may have been some punches thrown by both of us but I will not testify to that in court.”
Kat’s head swam, her mind taking in what he’d said.
“Here.” Julien helped her stand. “There’s an ambulance at the end of the alley. Let’s go there and have you looked over.”
She paused and looked at her bound feet, a sudden giddiness replacing the terror she’d felt only a few minutes ago. “Not unless you carry me.”
Julien followed her lead and chuckled. “As you wish.”
Before she could say anything he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the waiting ambulance. Kat pressed her tied hands to his chest, feeling his racing heart under her touch. The smell of cheap red wine filled her nose and pushed away the last of the chemical-filled air.
As they moved down the alley Kat caught sight of Robertson, pinned against the wall by a pair of police officers. His bloodied face was pressed to the bricks, distorted into a warped caricature. Wide-eyed, he sputtered as he saw her, the bravado now replaced with outright fear.
The pistol lay on the ground not far away, under guard.
Cole stood on the opposite side of the alley, talking intently to a detective. He spotted her and said something before walking away, ignoring the man’s gestures to continue the conversation.
He was on them in a second, almost wrestling Kat from Julien’s arms. Caught in the impromptu tug-of-war, she laughed in spite of the situation and reached out to stroke his cheek.
“You came for me.” It was all she could think of.
“Of course I did.” Cole choked back tears. “It’s my job.”
“Hey. Not like I didn’t do anything. I sacrificed a fresh clean shirt. These stains are never going to come out.” Julien laughed as he maneuvered her to the waiting paramedics, Cole close behind.
Kat sighed and closed her eyes, allowing the tears to flow freely now that the nightmare was over.
Cole’s heart threatened to hammer right out of his chest as he watched the medics cut off the duct tape. Her feet were fine, the tape sticking to her jeans, but her wrists . . .
Oh, God. Her wrists.
The twisting and pulling had bruised the fair skin to the point of bleeding, the swollen wrists looking as if she’d been playing rough sex games.
He felt ill.
Cole had seen worse. He’d seen body parts scattered by the side of the road, still in uniform. He’d watched men screaming for their mothers. He knew the smell of burning flesh. To survive he’d hardened his heart and refused to be fazed by anything he saw or experienced.
All of that had failed him over the past few hours, the abject fear now replaced by a surge of relief at seeing Kat alive and well.
Julien patted his shoulder as the pair stood to one side. “Our woman’s a tough one.” There was a tremble in the man’s voice. “She’ll be fine.”
“Thanks to you,” Cole said. “If your buddies hadn’t spotted the van the cops would still be running around in circles.”
Julien shrugged off the praise. “Maybe, maybe not. And if she hadn’t hit the horn Robertson might have shot me. Or you.” He let out an annoyed grunt. “I didn’t see the gun. All I saw was her face, her eyes, and I lost it.”
“You had every right to.” Cole looked over to the offending ex-employee. “Bastard’s going away for a long, long time if I have anything to say about it.”
“Which you do.” Julien brushed at his damp shirt. “I’m glad I got the cheap wine.”
Cole shook his head. “We were stupid. We should have called in backup and kept our distance . . .” He trailed off, taking in Julien’s raised eyebrows and wide eyes.
“If we’re going to be fools for love, let’s be fools for love all the way.” Julien gestured at Kat, her wrists now being bandaged. “What if he had moved her? Or shot her when he realized she was free? Or, God forbid, the police screwed up getting her back? Desperate men do desperate things, and I wouldn’t put it past Robertson to blind her and drop her by the side of the road if he lost his nerve to negotiate her return.” He shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to go on if we’d stepped aside. Do you think the authorities would have believed me and sent someone to check out the van as quickly as we did? Another few minutes and he might have been on the move again, searching for a new place to hide her.” Julien scoffed. “No. I won’t apologize for what we did, and neither should you.”
Cole’s phone buzzed. He checked the text message. “Jacob McMaster lands in two hours.”
“Good.” Julien smiled. “I’m going to ask
him for a raise.”
Chapter Ten
It was a concentrated effort for Julien to sound calm, the rage inside him threatening to break free.
As he’d come staggering down the alley, cheap red wine splashed across one of his best shirts, all Julien could think about was how his world had changed so much in a few months and how it would soon change again.
Because once he had Kat in his arms again, he was never, ever going to let her go. And if that meant leaving New Orleans, so be it.
The original plan had been simpler, less dangerous. Julien would pretend to be drunk and make his way through the alley; do a simple reconnaissance of the van. Cole would circle around from behind and they’d be able to assess the situation and back away, call the cops if it was something they couldn’t handle.
It had all gone wrong from the moment he’d stumbled into the alleyway.
Robertson, the bastard, had been standing right out there in the open, yattering on the phone. In Julien’s perfect scenario the kidnapper wouldn’t notice him at all, too busy with his nefarious scheme to pay much attention to the drunken fool seeking a safe place to sleep off his liquid lunch.
The plan might have had a chance if Julien hadn’t seen Kat, seen the bruises on her face that shot straight to his gut, overriding all common sense. The scarlet tunnel vision locked onto Robertson, and Julien was ready to attack him for what he’d done. He hadn’t seen the pistol, hadn’t seen anything other than the wounded love of his life.
Kat’s move to toss herself on the horn had saved Julien’s life; he had no doubt about that.
In those few seconds of confusion Cole tackled Robertson from behind and put him to the ground, laying in a few extra punches for good measure as Julien kicked the pistol away. The rest fell into a blur as the police took charge of the criminal, Cole standing guard while Julien went to the van to retrieve Kat.
Now came the consequences of their actions.
But she was alive and with them, and to hell with anything and anyone else.
Julien looked at Cole. “Let’s take our love home.”
He went to the ambulance where the two medics were finishing with Kat.
“She took a good knock to the head.” The uniformed woman pointed at the bump on the side of Kat’s face. “She won’t go to the hospital.”
“I want to go back to my room,” Kat said. Her face was pale, almost translucent.
The paramedic paused. “If she gets any bad headaches or seems confused . . .” She looked at Julien.
He nodded. “We’ll take care of her.”
Kat held up her hands, the white bandages standing out against her fair skin. “The police still want to talk to me.”
“And they will,” Cole said from behind Julien. “But they can come to the suite to take your statement.” He looked over at the lead detective, staring at the man. “There’s nothing they need from you right now. It’s more important to get you back someplace safe and secure, and that’d be your suite at the hotel.”
The tug-of-war only lasted a few seconds before the policeman gave in. “We’ve got to process the scene here and talk to the suspect.” He glanced over where Robertson was still against the wall, huffing for breath. “We can come to the room later and get her statement.”
“Thank you,” Cole replied. “I appreciate it.”
Kat stood and wavered for a second, sending Julien’s heart into overdrive.
“I’m fine.” She tugged at the sleeves of her blouse, now stained with dirt and grease. “I just need a shower and some food.”
“We shall provide both for you.” Julien pointed at the end of the alley, away from the van now circled with police. “Back at the Majestic.”
The words triggered a flow of tears, her hands covering her face as she wept, the emotional storm of the past few hours finally overwhelming her.
Cole moved in on one side to hold her tight while Julien took the other side. It was hard for him to hold back his own tears. He looked at Cole and saw the same struggle, the two of them beginning to slow down, mentally and physically breaking down after accomplishing what they’d set out to do.
He released Kat and led her away, ignoring the curious stares from the gathering crowd.
A black car was waiting for them on the street; the usual work vehicle for the security staff. Cole opened the back door and Julien got in first, then Kat.
Cole tucked himself in on the other side with a nod to the driver. The car started off, the air-conditioning running full blast.
Kat laid her head against his chest, her eyes closed.
Julien sighed as he stroked Kat’s hair, fingers gently untangling the dark brown knots. She stretched out across both men’s laps as Cole stroked her legs, sliding his hands along her bare ankles to caress bare skin.
I will never let you go again.
She wanted to tear the bandages off, the water soaking them through until they were wet rags on her wrists.
“Don’t,” Cole warned as he stood outside the shower. He had his back to her and still managed to read her mind, knowing what she was thinking of doing.
Sometimes the man was a pain in the ass.
Sometimes.
She hadn’t been alone for a single minute since they’d gotten back to the hotel, both Cole and Julien either by her side or within reach.
Kat wasn’t going to complain.
Cole continued to speak. “Let them stay on. We can change them later if you want.”
“It’s more of a rope burn than anything else. Damned duct tape,” she said as she scrubbed herself clean. Kat lifted her mouth to the hot spray and took in a mouthful of water, worried she’d never be able to remove the smell from her skin.
“Julien says the food will be here by the time you’re out. Ordered steak and potatoes.”
Her stomach gave a growl of approval as she ran the soap over her legs.
“Are you sure Phil’s okay?” It was hard to push the image out of her mind, of the man throwing himself in front of her. “He’s going to be fine?”
“They flushed out his eyes thoroughly. He’ll have a bit of a chemical burn on his face but that’ll go away with time. Nothing permanent.”
“Thank God. I want him taken care of. If there’s anything he needs . . .”
Cole’s chuckle carried through the thin glass door. “He is. Trust me, the man’s not going to want for anything.”
“Good.” She drew a deep breath. “He’s a good man. He jumped in front of me and took the attack.”
“Robertson didn’t think Phil would be with you,” Cole said. “He wasn’t very smart.”
Kat nodded. “No, he wasn’t. Didn’t think his plan through.”
“I should have been there.” The disappointment in his voice tore at her heart. “It should have been me there, not Phil.”
“No.” She pressed her hand against the clouded glass. “God, no.”
Her imagination supplied the images. Cole falling to his knees, scratching at his face as the corrosive spray dug into his skin, into his eyes . . .
Kat let out a whimper as the bar of soap slipped from her fingers. She held up her hand and saw the trembling, her hand shaking uncontrollably.
In a few seconds she was shivering despite the hot water spraying on her, the reality of what she’d gone through hitting home.
The shower door opened, letting in a burst of cool air.
Cole stood there, naked.
He stepped in to face her and pulled the door shut. It was a tight fit but he managed, the steam curling around them both in white, cloudy swirls.
“I’m not in the mood for—” Kat stopped talking as his hand landed on her shoulder.
“I’m not here for that.” A smile twitched on his lips. “I don’t want to get my clothes wet when I hug you.” He locked eyes with her, the soft blue orbs drawing her in. “It’s okay. Let yourself go.”
She didn’t have to ask him what he meant.
His arms went around her as she
sobbed, her knees weak. The terror of the past few hours washed over her again, the horror of almost losing everyone and everything important to her.
“We’re good,” Cole murmured, rocking her slowly as he held her tight. “We’re all okay.”
“You and Julien could have been killed,” she rasped.
“Could have; weren’t.” The snarky reply did nothing to soothe her.
“Not the point.” Kat drew a staggered breath. “You shouldn’t have come after me.”
Cole shook his head. “Not your call.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest, her fingers sliding over a puckered scar. “How could you think we’d sit by and wait for the authorities to find you? Aside from it being my job, we both love you.”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine what I’d do without the two of you.”
“Good. Because your grandfather’s due in a couple hours and we need to have some sort of plan.”
Kat wrinkled her nose. “Couldn’t let me enjoy the moment, hmm?”
Cole kissed her, a deep open-mouthed sensual assault that left her breathless. “Got to keep moving forward, love. No time to rest.” He copped a quick feel, caressing her breast before opening the stall door and stepping out with a sigh. “You really need to renovate one of the suites with an extra-large walk-in shower.”
“I do,” she muttered. “Although it might kill us all.”
By the time she’d finished drying off, the smell of food was wafting through the almost-closed door. Kat pulled on a pink T-shirt and matching sweatpants, not caring right now about how she looked. She pulled her hair back into a wet ponytail and winced as she touched her wrists, the cuts still sore to the touch. The bandages had begun to dry out and she was glad for the protection, the damaged skin aching every time she swiveled her wrists.
She walked into the living room to see Julien setting out three plates fresh off the cart, Cole busy on the phone and pacing in the corner. They’d both changed as well, Julien into a fresh shirt and jeans and Cole into a cream-colored shirt with khakis and a matching suit jacket. The black tie completed the outfit.
She knew who he was dressing for and it wasn’t her.
Betting on Both Page 19
