"It's going to be a big hit," Jax said, squeezing her hand, his fingers curling around the square-shaped diamond he'd placed on her finger three nights earlier, being as cheesy as he could be by proposing on Valentine's Day. He'd told her she'd turned him into a romantic nutcase and the least she could do was marry him. Of course, she'd said yes. And then their friends and family had turned their romantic dinner into a party.
She gave him a loving smile. "I'm nervous for everyone to see it."
"They're going to love it, because it's brilliant. Your talent shines in every second of the film."
She was more than a little touched by his never-ending support. Jax had been by her side the past seven months. When he wasn't working on putting away every single Russian spy they'd unearthed, he was talking through plot points and story twists and reassuring her that she could do it no matter how many obstacles she ran into. And there had been a few.
She'd had to pull together a production team. Fortunately, she'd worked for a lot of great people, and they'd believed in her movie and were willing to work for next to nothing to help her get it made. She'd also received some investment help from her parents and from two other wealthy donors, Daniel Bragin and Wallace Jagger. They'd wanted Natasha's story to be told, too. They felt it was the least they could do for a woman they had both loved, even though they had both been her victims as well.
With the Russian spy trials looming, the movie had drummed up enough interest that several major studios had gotten into a bidding war, and she'd ended up signing what she hoped would be a very lucrative deal. But that would depend on how the audience reacted to the film.
The limo stopped, and they stepped out onto the pavement. It was a cold night, but there wasn't a cloud in the sky, just millions of stars that made her feel like Natasha was smiling down at her.
"I hope I did her justice," she told Jax.
He put his arm around her waist. "You did. Now you need to relax and enjoy."
They made their way toward the red carpet, but their progress was stopped by Wallace Jagger. She shook Wallace's hand, seeing the nervousness in his gaze. "Don't worry," she said. "I think you'll like the way your relationship with Natasha is portrayed. No matter how it started, she genuinely cared about you."
Wallace nodded. "I loved her very much, even though I always knew her love was never as deep as mine. I'm glad she was able to turn her life around before she was killed. I just wish I'd known that Constantine, Edward and Sylvia were my enemies. They were stealing information from me and using me, and I never knew it. I wish I'd also realized that Ryland had become their target as well, once he took over the company. Although, he did know it," Wallace added, with disappointment in his gaze. "Ryland made some mistakes, but he's trying to make it right now with his testimony."
"I'm very glad he's being cooperative."
"I was such a fool to think any of those people were my friends. I'm embarrassed by how gullible I was."
"You weren't alone," another man said, as he joined them.
"Daniel," she said, giving him a quick hug. They'd become good friends in the last seven months, and he'd been very helpful in filling in some of the blanks of her grandmother's life.
"I was also suckered in," Daniel said. "I had no idea Natasha spied on me, and I never really thought she'd been murdered. But now the truth will be told—at last."
"How's Lindsay doing?" she asked.
"She's going to have a lot to deal with in the next year or two," he said somberly. "While she was being blackmailed, she was also committing treason. It was different for me. I didn't know that Natasha was stealing from me when she was in my office or my home, whereas Lindsay knew what she was doing. She was scared, but that's no excuse. I'm hoping her sentence will be lighter with her cooperation."
"She has been very cooperative," Jax interjected. "That will help."
"I hope so." He smiled at Jax. "You are your father’s son, smarter than most and always a winner. But you still need to work on your chess game."
"Maybe you’ll give me a rematch," Jax said.
"I’d love to." Glancing around, Daniel added, "Natasha would have been thrilled to see this crowd come out for her."
"Yes, she would have," Wallace agreed. "She loved an audience.
Maya stiffened as she saw her grandfather making his way across the sidewalk with the help of her mom and dad. To her knowledge, he had not spoken to either Wallace or Daniel since Natasha's death, and she wasn't sure what they thought of each other.
But as greetings were exchanged, it became clear that they were bonded by their love for Natasha, even though at times they had been competitors for her affection.
As the men made their way into the theater, her family descended upon her with hugs and good wishes.
Her father looked a bit nervous but also resolute. "I thought I'd left all this behind," he said, sweeping his hand toward the photographers and the press. "But here I am again. I never should have tried to outrun my past." He paused. "You were right, Maya. It was better to know the truth, the whole truth." He gave her a hug, followed by her mom, her brother-in-law, and her sister.
"We're so proud of you," Darcy said. "I can't wait to see what you've been working on."
As her family moved into the theater, Jax gave her a smile. "They all came around."
"They did. I wish my brother could have been here, but he couldn't get away. He promised to see the film the first day it opens." As she finished speaking, Jax's team came down the sidewalk.
Caitlyn and Beck were flying solo, while Flynn was with Callie, Wyatt was with Avery, and Savannah was with Ryker. It was fun to see them all wearing suits and cocktail dresses.
She was starting to love the team as much as Jax did, especially since they'd managed to find hard evidence connecting Constantine to the deaths of Jax's parents. Constantine would pay for that crime along with many others, and Jax would get justice for his mom and his dad.
She hadn't been sure about putting his parents into her movie, but Jax had insisted. His father's conversation with Natasha had been pivotal in bringing forth the entire story, and it needed to be in there. She just hoped she'd done a good job on that part of the film. She wanted Jax to be happy with the way they were portrayed. And while Jax had been there for some of the filming, he had yet to see the film in its entirety. Tonight would be the first time.
Finally, it was their turn to walk the red carpet. She answered questions from the press, keeping Jax at her side, even though he was happy to let her have the spotlight. That was one area where she differed from her grandmother. She didn't need the spotlight alone; she wanted everyone she loved to be in that light with her.
They were the last to take their seats in the theater. The lights dimmed, and she tightened her grasp on Jax's hand.
"This is it," he whispered.
"Wish me luck."
"You don't need it. It's going to be great."
The movie opened with a small, dark-haired girl with sad green eyes standing by a grave, very much alone and separated from the adults around her. She was looking to the horizon, to her future. There was a yearning for more in her eyes, and she was going to get more than she ever imagined.
Maya lived every line, every scene in the movie. Even though she'd seen it a thousand times already, it still touched her heart. And when the lights came on, she was crying.
Jax gave her a hug and a kiss. "You did it, Maya. It was amazing. You captured Natasha's true spirit, her complicated life, and her contradictory feelings. You made her come alive again. It was beautiful."
"And your parents?"
He nodded. "You did right by them."
"You mean that?"
"I do. But I wasn't worried."
"I love you so much, Jax. I couldn't have done this without you."
A tender smile curved his lips, "I love you, too, Maya. Now stand up and take a bow. This is your moment. We'll have ours later, I promise."
She smiled and got to h
er feet as the applause bathed her in light and warmth. In those few moments, the last little piece of the puzzle fell into place. She realized that this was the love that Natasha had lived for and had never been able to get enough of.
But when the applause stopped, and she looked into Jax's blue eyes, she knew that it wasn't the fame she wanted—it was him. He was her life. And she was his.
I hope you enjoyed Jax and Maya's exciting romantic mystery! Next up in the Off The Grid: FBI Series is Caitlyn Carlson’s story in DARING DECEPTION.
What to Read Next
Don’t miss Caitlyn’s story in
DARING DECEPTION
Release date January 26, 2021
He didn't just break her heart, he broke her soul. He is the last person she wants to see again. And the only person who can help her solve a deadly case.
When a bomb exploded at her college, Caitlyn Carlson's life changed in an instant. Ten years later, she's no longer a vulnerable, trusting girl, but a tough, ruthless, FBI agent. But her hard exterior covers a deep, aching hole in her heart.
Brodie Gallagher has changed his life, too, trying to make up for the horrific mistakes of his youth. But some mistakes can't be outrun or forgiven. Some feelings don't stay buried, no matter how hard you try.
An explosion at a local university takes them back to the past, to the one place they never wanted to go again…and to each other. They barely survived loving each other the first time around. The secrets and lies almost killed them. Will this be their second chance, or will this be the end of everything?
PREORDER DARING DECEPTION
SILENT RUN
While you’re waiting for the next FBI book, check out an excerpt from SILENT RUN, the first book in a romantic suspense duo. SILENT FALL is the second book in the Sanders Brothers Series.
SILENT RUN - EXCERPT
PROLOGUE
Large raindrops streamed against her windshield as she sped along the dark, narrow highway north of Los Angeles. She’d been traveling for over an hour along the wild and beautiful Pacific coastline. She’d passed the busy beach cities of Venice and Santa Monica, the celebrity-studded hills of Malibu and Santa Barbara. Thank God it was a big state. She could start over again, find a safe place to stay, but she had to get there first.
The pair of headlights in her rearview mirror drew closer with each passing mile. Her nerves began to tighten, and goose bumps rose along her arms and the back of her neck. She’d been running too long not to recognize danger. But where had the car come from? She’d been so sure that no one had followed her out of LA. After sixty miles of constantly checking her rearview mirror she’d begun to relax, but now the fear came rushing back.
It was too dark to see the car behind her, but there was something about the speed with which it was approaching that made her nervous. She pressed her foot down harder on the gas, clinging to the wheel as gale-force winds blowing in off the ocean rocketed through the car, making the driving even more treacherous.
A few miles later the road veered inland. She looked for a place to exit. Finally she saw a sign for an upcoming turnoff heading into the Santa Ynez Mountains. Maybe with a few twists and turns she could lose the car on her tail, and if her imagination were simply playing tricks on her, the car behind her would just continue down the road.
The exit came up fast. She took the turn on two wheels. Five minutes later the pair of headlights was once again directly behind her. There was no mistake: He was coming after her.
She had to get away from him. Adrenaline raced through her bloodstream, giving her courage and strength. She was so tired of running for her life, but she couldn’t quit now. She’d probably made a huge mistake leaving the main highway. There was no traffic on this two-lane road. If he caught her now there would be no one to come to her rescue.
The gap between their cars lessened. He was so close she could see the silhouette of a man in her rearview mirror. He was bearing down on her.
She took the next turn too sharply, her tires sliding on the slick, wet pavement.
Sudden lights coming from the opposite direction blinded her. She hit the brakes hard. The car skidded out of control. She flew across the road, crashed through a wooden barrier, and hurtled down a steep embankment. Rocks splintered the windshield as she threw up her hands in protest and prayer.
When the impact finally came it was crushing, the pain intense. It was too much. All she wanted to do was to sink into oblivion. It was over. She was finished.
But some voice deep inside her screamed at her to stay awake, because if she wasn’t dead yet, she soon would be.
CHAPTER ONE
The blackness in her mind began to lessen. There was a light behind her eyelids that beckoned and called to her. She was afraid to answer that call, terrified to open her eyes. Maybe it was the white light people talked about, the one to follow when you were dead. But she wasn’t dead, was she?
It was just a nightmare, she told herself. She was dreaming; she’d wake up in a minute. But something was wrong. Her bed didn’t feel right. The mattress was hard beneath her back. There were odd bells going off in her head. She smelled antiseptic and chlorine bleach. A siren wailed in the distance. Someone was talking to her, a man.
Her stomach clenched with inexplicable fear as she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flew open, and she blinked rapidly, the scene before her confusing.
She wasn’t home in her bedroom, as she’d expected. A man in a long white coat stood next to the bed. He appeared to be in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair, dark eyes, and a serious expression. He held a clipboard in one hand. A stethoscope hung around his neck, and a pair of glasses rested on his long, narrow nose. Next to him stood a short, plump brunette dressed in blue scrubs, offering a compassionate, encouraging smile that seemed to match the name on her name tag, Rosie.
What was going on? Where was she?
"You’re awake," the doctor said, a brisk note in his voice, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "That’s good. We were getting concerned about you. You’ve been unconscious for hours."
Unconscious? She gazed down the length of her body, suddenly aware of the thin blue gown, the hospital identification band on her wrist, the IV strapped to her left arm. And pain—there was pain... in her head, her right wrist, and her knees. Her right cheek throbbed. She raised a hand to her temple and was surprised to encounter a bandage. What on earth had happened to her?
"You were in an automobile accident last night," the doctor told her. "You have some injuries, but you’re going to be all right. You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital just outside of Los Olivos in Santa Barbara County. I’m Dr. Carmichael. Do you understand what I’m saying?"
She shook her head, his brisk words jumbling up in her brain, making little to no sense. "Am I dreaming?" she whispered.
"You’re not dreaming, but you do have a head injury. It’s not unusual to be confused," the doctor replied. He offered her a small, practiced smile that was edged with impatience. "Now, do you feel up to a few questions? Why don’t we start with your name?"
She opened her mouth to reply, thinking that was an easy question, until nothing came to mind. Her brain was blank. What was her name? She had to have one. Everyone did. What on earth was wrong with her? She gave a helpless shake of her head. "I’m... I’m not sure," she murmured, shocked by the realization.
The doctor frowned, his gaze narrowing on her face. "You don’t remember your name? What about your address, or where you’re from?"
She bit down on her bottom lip, straining to think of the right answers. Numbers danced in her head, but no streets, no cities, no states. A wave of terror rushed through her. She had to be dreaming—lost in a nightmare. She wanted to run, to scream, to wake herself up, but she couldn’t do any of those things.
"You don’t know, do you?" the nurse interjected.
"I... I should know. Why don’t I know? What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I remember my name, where I’m from? What’s going on?" He
r voice rose with each desperate question.
"Your brain suffered a traumatic injury," Dr. Carmichael explained. "It may take some time for you to feel completely back to normal. It’s probably nothing to worry about. You just need to rest, let the swelling go down."
His words were meant to be reassuring, but anxiety ran like fire through her veins. She struggled to remember something about herself. Glancing down at her hands, she saw the light pink, somewhat chipped polish on her fingernails and wondered how it could be that her own fingers didn’t look familiar to her. She wore no rings, no jewelry, not even a watch. Her skin was pale, her arms thin. But she had no idea what her face looked like.
"A mirror," she said abruptly. "Could someone get me a mirror?"
Dr. Carmichael and Rosie exchanged a brief glance, and then he nodded to the nurse, who quickly left the room. "You need to try to stay calm," he said as he jotted something down on his clipboard. "Getting upset won’t do you any good."
"I don’t know my name. I don’t know what I look like." Hysteria bubbled in her throat, and panic made her want to jump out of bed and run... but to where, she had no idea. She tried to breathe through the rush of adrenaline. If this were a nightmare, eventually she’d wake up. If it wasn’t... well, then she’d have to figure out what to do next. In the meantime she had to calm down. She had to think.
The doctor said she’d had an accident. Like the car crash in her dream? Was it possible that had been real and not a dream?
Glancing toward the clock, she saw that it was seven thirty. At least she knew how to read the time. "Is it night or morning?" Her gaze traveled to the window, but the heavy blue curtain was drawn, making it impossible for her to see outside.
Fearless Pursuit (Off The Grid: FBI Series Book 8) Page 30
