She nodded and swallowed, her throat scratchy and dry. "Yes. I have." She looked up, watching for any trace of disgust in his features, but she saw only concern and the unmistakable look of a man wanting some answers.
He didn't ask the particulars of her. Enfolding her hand in his, he held it, warm and strong in his grasp. "Can you do it again?"
The question was firm, and Lindy knew he was counting on her total honesty. She squeezed his hand and nodded. "No doubt."
"Who was it?"
"An intruder. He broke into my house when my best friend and I were alone." Her voice shook, but she took a deep breath and continued, "He had a knife and a mask. He was…he was coming toward us, but I had the gun hidden in my robe. I pulled it and shot him."
"And?"
"And—I killed him." She paused, then said, "Pretty hard to live through a .38 slug in your brain. He didn't make it."
Jesse watched her closely.
"I've revisited it countless times," she said softly. "I've come to grips with it."
"Lie down with me. It'll be easier to talk about it."
Lindy carefully lay down, her head on his shoulder. At her back, she could feel the pillows, the hard butt of the .44 just touching her shoulder blade.
"I know what you think…that I'll relive it at the instant I have to pull the trigger." She gave a short laugh. "I can assure you, Jesse, you can count on me. I've replayed it so many times there's nothing new in it any longer. No unobserved detail, no alternative, no changing my mind. Just a steady finger and a spray of blood. I've seen it every way possible over the last ten years." Her eyes stung, but she detached her emotions. The only thing for her, now, was Jesse. Jesse's hand over hers, her head on his shoulder, the feel of his battered, fever-hot body lying close to hers, still strong, still tough, after all he'd been through. Still protecting her…this time from her memories.
He didn't respond for several seconds. Finally, Lindy lifted her head to look at him.
"You were young." He fingered her hair absently, his dark gaze ranging over her face.
She nodded mutely. "Thirteen. I was thirteen." She bit her lip. "If you're worried—"
He ran his thumb over her chin and across her lips, stilling her words. "No."
"I'll do what I have to do."
"I know you will." His hand went around the back of her neck, under her hair. Lindy's eyes closed at the intimate touch. He pulled her closer to him, until they shared the same breath. "I'm not worried."
He closed the scant space between them, putting his mouth to hers. He tensed at her reticence when he pulled her to him, but her whispered explanation lit his eyes with a warm glow.
"I don't want to hurt you…"
"You won't. You can't." He smiled faintly. "Superman, remember?"
* * * * *
She shook her head as her fingers skimmed his stubbled chin, then the bruised cheekbone under his right eye, as if proving him wrong. A question lurked in her eyes, and Jesse shook his head.
"I'm okay." He met her lips again with his, and he felt her hold onto the kiss with a longing he hadn't recognized before. With everything wrapped up in that one intimate gesture, he realized how afraid Lindy was. Now that they had found one another in the midst of this madness, were they to lose this chance at love just as quickly?
He kissed her again, letting his tongue move over her lips gently in a promise of what was to come. "Lindy," he whispered against her mouth. His left arm encircled her, pulling her close to him. "I want you…" He broke off, realizing what he said was true in every sense. He wanted her, all right; but not just in his bed. He wanted her in his life, in his heart, in his home.
Foolish. Foolish thoughts. And dangerous. He should be figuring a way to get them out of here, not thinking of Lindy and a future between them. That would come later. They both needed to be alive to have a future, he thought caustically, and that didn't seem very likely at this point.
But with her looking down into his face like she was now, his own thoughts mirrored in her eyes as if he'd spoken them aloud, he wanted her more than anything or anyone he'd ever wanted in his life. Even more than he'd ever wanted Erica.
Beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed, plastic Erica, whom he'd thought was the love of his life. How wrong he had been.
"Don't stop there, Jesse," Lindy teased. "Tell me the rest. You want me, and…?"
He groaned in frustration. "You don't give a guy a break, do you?"
"Honesty, Officer. We must have it," she intoned seriously.
"Yeah," he agreed wryly, giving a strand of her hair a gentle tug. "Even when it hurts."
"Just remember, we might actually survive this." She looked at the bed, somber once more. "So…don't make any crazy promises you can't keep, in case that happens. I don't want to be disappointed that I lived through it." She raised her eyes slowly to lock with his. The teasing gleam was gone completely. "I don't want to end up with a broken heart, Jesse. Sometimes, that can be as lethal as a bullet."
He swallowed hard, his eyes holding hers as he reached to fill his hand with her silky hair. She laid her cheek in his palm, closing her eyes briefly, and a rushing swell of protectiveness washed over him. "I won't break it, sweetheart. I promise you that. If we make it out of here, you won't be disappointed. Not ever. I meant what I said, Lindy. I love you. And…I want you—like I've never wanted anyone before. I'm just sorry we've wasted so much time."
"We'll…have to make up for that." She glanced down, but not before Jesse saw the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes.
He cursed inwardly. "I have a lot of that to do, it seems."
"Nash?"
Jesse grimaced. "I haven't been taking first in any 'Father of the Year' competitions lately."
"That's hard to do when you couldn't let him know you really are his father, Jesse."
He shook his head, looking past her. "What was I thinking? Must've been crazy, giving him to Jake in the first place."
Lindy leaned down and cut off his words with a gentle kiss. "We'll make it right."
"Yeah," he agreed grimly. Could it ever be made right in Nash's eyes? "Maybe."
Lindy nodded at his bandaged shoulder. "How's it feeling?"
"Better. You did a good job on it. I'll be ready for whatever comes. At least, now, I feel like I can use it."
"Like your old 'Superman' self?" she teased.
"Well…not quite that good." He smiled at her, drowning in the liquid dark pools of her eyes. "But just hang with me a while longer, sweetheart. I'm getting there."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Standing in the fast rising water, Ryan would have to be blind not to see the looks passing between Lanham and Wallace. They were wondering whether to press on, or mutiny and turn around. The only thing that kept them going forward, Ryan figured, was the fact they would have to drag him out of the place between them through the knee-deep water.
But, from what he could tell, they had to be nearing the deli. They'd passed the corner where the traffic noises could be heard. It was a small side street, Rafferty, that turned onto 54th. The next cross street should be Ellis. With any luck, a cross tunnel would extend to either side, just like the streets above them. There hadn't been one at Rafferty, but they had to hope that was because Rafferty wasn't one of the main intersections.
Ryan slogged through the water, feeling what little strength he had ebbing. It was slow and tedious, the sediment uneven beneath their feet, swirling and settling again with the currents of water. At the grate on Rafferty and 54th, water poured into the tunnels like Niagara Falls. He'd seen Lanham turn to look at Wallace, fear etched across his young face. Well, if the water was the worst thing Lanham ever had to deal with, he'd be damn lucky. It wasn't as if Drummond and the others didn't know where they were. There was no mystery once a person was down here, either. Pretty straight-forward…these tunnels followed the streets, for the most part.
The concrete walls had come alive with every kind of spider and insect, all seekin
g the dry safety of higher ground. Behind him, Ryan heard a strangled cry, turning just in time to see Lanham clubbing a rat to death with the handle of his police revolver.
"Oh, shit! Shit!" Lanham paled in the dim light, his eyes wide.
Wallace glanced at Ryan and winked. "Think you got him, Brett."
"There's damn stinkin' rats down here!"
"They gotta live somewhere."
"Keep moving and you'll be okay." Ryan was immediately sorry he had expended the effort to speak. His legs were like lead. He stumbled, caught his balance, and took another step.
"Ryan—" Wallace began, but Ryan waved him off.
"I'm okay."
"Damnedest looking okay I've ever seen," Wallace muttered, inching closer.
Ryan knew he distrusted his assurances.
Their flashlights cast a dim yellow glow, sheening off the water in odd rippling patterns as they moved. The sloshing noises they made, coupled with the roar of the incoming water was deafening. There was no more conversation. Walking took all their effort now. The water steadily rose to mid-thigh level, showing no sign of stabilizing.
Sweat trickled down the sides of Ryan's face, his breathing labored and harsh. He thought he heard a stifled sob behind him, but could spare no energy to turn, no more than a quick thought for the rookie. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bill keeping close in case he slipped, or just plain wore out. He couldn't stop now. They were close to where they needed to be, and God only knew what else floated in the water surrounding them.
A chill ran through Ryan, and shivering, he took the next step. His foot slipped in the sediment and he lost his balance. Bill's beefy hand caught him. For an instant, his legs felt rubbery, as if they wouldn't hold him. Bill shook his head and gave him a questioning look, but didn't say anything. They moved forward again, Lanham keeping closer to his partner than ever before.
The sound of gushing water became louder as they advanced. A small column of gray light filtered into their underground darkness from up ahead. Panting and sloshing, they moved toward it with single-minded purpose. Using the map fixed in his mind, Ryan knew this would be the corner of Ellis and 54th, where Silverman's Deli sat. If the tunnel entry Silverman had described still existed, it should only be a few feet back from the street grate.
"Just a little further, Captain," Bill muttered.
Ryan wondered why. Had he stopped moving? Was he still standing? He must be, because the water continued to rise. In the space of a few minutes, it reached their hips, steadily coming up. He turned to look at Bill and the grate beyond, the dirty street water pouring into the opening. No sound of traffic above, since both streets were barricaded. The men watched for a moment as the tumbling rush of water forced its way through the opening.
Ryan lifted a weary arm to wipe his forehead, leaning into the current to keep his balance. The other two watched him carefully.
"Almost there, Bill," Ryan muttered. "Just like you said. Let's put an end to this damn business."
* * * * *
The dim light inside the bedroom filtered through the window, slanting around the bars. Lindy lay next to Jesse on the bed, her arm light across his waist. Thunder crashed nearby, rattling the windowpane, and she flinched.
Jesse traced a lazy pattern on her arm, pulling her nearer to him. "Scared?"
She smiled and shook her head against his shoulder. "No. Not of that. It's just noise." She half-turned to look toward the window just as the lightning flashed again. "Those bars—I guess Mr. Silverman put them on when he was getting robbed so often. Worked out great for Hardin—keeping us in here." She lay back down on his shoulder, her eyes closing slowly in the semi-darkness.
Jesse lay silent, watching her. How had things worked out like this? He wanted to curse the Fates and thank God all at the same time. Lindy was everything he could ever ask for—and more. For all the good it did him now.
"Yeah. It was sure a lucky day for him, all right." He kissed the top of her head, his tone lightening a little. "And, for me, too."
"Lucky? How so?" She looked up at him, and his chest tightened.
"It brought us together. Finally."
Lindy didn't answer, sudden tension stiffening her body. She took a deep breath, and Jesse realized she didn't want to cry.
"I want that…so much. Too much. Maybe that's why I can't…have it."
"Lindy…don't cash it all in just yet. Ryan and I were partners for five years. I know him, and he'll be trying to figure out something." He broke off. "I just hope it'll come in time." Lindy sniffed, sounding so childlike that Jesse had to smile. "I could think of better ways than this to spend the evening with a beautiful woman."
"You'd have to find one, first," Lindy muttered. "According to Tabor Hardin, anyhow."
"Hey." Jesse urged Lindy's head up gently, forcing her to meet his eyes. "What do you care what that bastard has to say? He doesn't count for any damn thing."
Lindy smiled faintly. "I know. It's stupid, but it was weird of him to say something like that…about my 'beauty sleep'. I thought I must look pretty terrible, if he noticed."
Jesse shook his head. She was the most beautiful woman in the world right now, but she'd never believe it if he told her. "No. Lindy, to understand Hardin, you have to think like him, and that's not easy. But trust me. He looks at you and sees how beautiful you are. Wanting you like he does, he had to try and talk himself out of it. That's why I put it in his mind that you were too young—for either of us. He knows you're interested in me…not him. So, this is his way of dealing with you, putting you in here with me for the last few hours before he starts the torture. He thinks I'll reject you if you make advances toward me. His shot at you—that you needed some beauty sleep—was meant to work on your self-esteem. Don't let him get to you. He knows you've stood up to him time and again…and for whatever reason, he's allowed it. It's just his way of trying to re-establish control."
Lindy reached to smooth back the hair that fell across his forehead. Her touch was gentle; there was no mistaking the love in it. "He's got all the control over me he could ever want. Right here. With you. I figure I'd do about anything he said to keep him from hurting you."
"No, Lindy." Jesse couldn't keep the urgency from his tone. "That's what he's looking for." He hesitated a moment, then said, '' "You gotta keep him guessing, sweetheart."
"I don't know how! I just…don't know how."
"You've done fine so far. Just keep it up. Buy some time as best you can. My tricks are all played out…if I ever had any to begin with."
"He's been keeping tabs on you from prison," she said slowly. "Blaming you…" She looked up into his eyes again. "You said he killed a police officer. How?"
Jesse let the curtain drop, veiling his features. He looked past her, thinking of the unspeakable. He would not tell her. Not now. Maybe not ever. It was a picture he didn't want her to have to carry in her mind. Of course, it would never be as real to her, not having seen the final result of Hardin's madness for herself. But it would be bad enough.
Finally, he said, "Speaking of it gives him power. I will tell you about it sometime, Lindy, but not…not right now."
"That bad?" she asked quietly.
He looked away. He didn't even want her to see the memory in his eyes. "Yes. That bad."
* * * * *
Lindy let her hand drift downward to Jesse's hip as she settled herself against him again. His breath hitched. She pulled back carefully, glancing up at him. "Hurt?"
"Not like you think," he muttered, resettling her hand, this time a bit lower and nearer to the center of his leg. His tense thigh muscles bunched beneath the denim. She splayed her fingers over the lean tightness of his upper leg. His breath caught again. He closed his eyes when she looked up at him.
A teasing smile flitted across her face. She let her thumb stray to the crease of his thigh. He wet his lips, still not opening his eyes, forcing his breathing to a steady pace.
She shifted carefully, levering herself up,
until her mouth was close to his. She reached out and gently ran her tongue over his lower lip, nibbling at it. She licked at him, tracing the firmness of his upper lip next, moving out of his reach as he responded.
He opened his eyes slowly, giving her a smoldering gaze. "Don't tease me, Lindy. Kiss me. Really…kiss me."
The playfulness disappeared, leaving only the warmth of her love filling her. She would do anything for him. The heated look in his eyes mesmerized her, pulling her down to him until her lips were almost touching his. His hand cupped her head with firm intent, spearing through the thickness of her hair, pulling her to him to close the small space between them. Their lips touched at last. The lightning heat of desire leapt between their bodies, as if they were held together by the intensity of the current.
Lindy was uncertain. Not in the fact that he wanted her as much as she wanted him, but after all he'd been through, she wasn't sure what to give or to expect. Jesse took her kiss hungrily, wordlessly assuring her she was what he needed. There was nothing more right, or precious, in their world.
Jesse rolled, pushing Lindy down to the bed as he came atop her.
"Your shoulder—"
"What shoulder?" he growled, taking control of the kiss, his hands in her hair, framing her face. As his hips pressed into her, Lindy responded in silent invitation, matching the pressure. Jesse groaned heatedly into her mouth, and her heart exploded with love for him.
"Jesse?"
"I know…I know," he sighed. He started to pull away, but Lindy held onto his waist.
"You better let me go if you know what's good for you, Miss Oliver," he teased, but his midnight eyes were filled with raw, undisguised longing.
Lindy held on tight, and he relaxed a little under her hands. "I do know what's good for me. Jesse Nightwalker is good for me." She refused to look away from the burning intensity of his dark gaze.
"You sure about that?"
She started to nod, but he stopped her. "Lindy, this isn't light stuff for me. I'm…" He broke off. "I love you. I mean that. So…if we make love, I want it to mean something. I don't want it to be some misguided act of mercy because you think this is the last night for me. Or for you. I want it to be for love…and no other reason. So, you need to think about it…if I'm what you want."
Sweet Danger Page 18
