Take My Breath Away (The Every Breath Duet Book 2)

by Faith Andrews

  Sam

  What were my other options? I couldn’t stand idle and bear witness to the cold-blooded murder of two innocent women. I wouldn’t dare stand back while they took her from me, for good.

  So, I lied.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t have some of the money. I would hand over every last penny of my life savings if they promised to let her go. Unfortunately, my life savings was at least twenty grand short of what these fuckers were owed.

  Where the hell was I going to get the rest? What was I going to do?

  I had to think. I needed a goddamn minute to figure this shit out without someone breathing down my neck.

  “Well, what are you waiting for?” The bigger asshole asked, nudging my arm with the barrel of his gun.

  An unwavering boldness I didn’t know I possessed swept through me the second that gun touched my arm. I narrowed my eyes at him and snarled my own orders. “First of all, don’t point that fucking thing at me again. And second, it’s time to untie the girls.”

  The jerkoff with the tattoos on his neck stared me down before breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. “You have some set of balls, man. I have to hand it to you. Here you are, this close to eating a fucking bullet and you’re telling us what do to?” He turned around to face his friend who was also snickering in enjoyment, but then he quickly spun back in my direction and pressed his nose to mine so I could smell the cigarettes on his breath when he spoke.

  “Don’t fuck with me, okay? You said you have the money, now, lead me to it. And until I have all fifty Gs in my hand, I call the shots. Got it?”

  Swallowing hard, I held my ground, trembling on the inside but dignified as ever on the outside. “Untie the girls, man. They have nothing to do with this. Your friend can stay here with them while you and I go get the money. You have my word. No funny business. Just untie them, for Christ’s sake. They have nothing to do with this.”

  When he backed away and assessed the situation, I could see his wheels turning as if he were considering my request. Nodding wordlessly to his cohort, he tucked his gun into the waistband of his jeans, behind his back. The other guy did the same but not before ordering Hunter and me to wait where we were while they ironed out a few details not meant for us to hear.

  Once they were out of the room, I ambled over to London and bent down slowly to remove the gag from her mouth. Not caring who was in the room, I pressed my lips to hers as if both of our lives depended on it.

  “Are you okay?” I breathed against her mouth.

  “No, but . . . you’re here now.”

  “Yes, babe, I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise, okay?”

  She nodded unconvincingly as tears wet her reddened cheeks.

  “Allie,” she said and I knew she was asking me to remove the gag from her friend’s mouth as well.

  I looked over to where an utterly petrified Allie sat propped up against the bed. Before I could take action, Hunter beat me to the punch and knelt beside her to untie the blouse.

  He would not make eye contact with me as he did. After I kissed London, he made it an obvious point to not so much as glance my way.

  I understood his pain. I knew what was at stake. But I didn’t give a shit. I wanted him to suffer. He nearly cost me everything, and I wasn’t talking about the thirty thousand dollars I was about to shell out to save his sorry ass.

  I opened my mouth to tell him he had some fucking nerve for acting like a sore loser when we’d all been within inches of losing our lives only moments ago. A string of insults was ripe on my tongue, but they remained unspoken because Henry’s unmistakable voice bellowed from downstairs.

  “Sam? London? Are you here?”

  Sam

  TENSIONS WERE SO high, I nearly forgot that Henry was meeting me here. As much as I wished there was time to warn him to stay away, it was also a huge relief that he showed up. There was strength in numbers. It was two of them against five of us. And considering I wasn’t exactly in the best shape because of the surgery, we could use all the help we could get.

  “Who the fuck’s here now?” I heard Cedric mumble and then charge down the steps.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Henry shouted, clearly defending himself. I couldn’t see what was going on from where I’d been ordered to stay put, but it was evident that Henry had just been greeted with a loaded gun aimed directly at him. The poor guy had walked straight into the lion’s den, and there was nothing any of us could do about it.

  “Upstairs, old man,” Cedric grunted.

  “Come on in and join the party!” Marco laughed, gesturing for Henry to enter the room once he was at the top of the stairs.

  Staunch but wary, he held his hands up over his head as Cedric ushered him inside with the pistol poking him between the shoulder blades.

  His mouth dropped open as soon as he saw all of us. There was no time to explain, but I was sure he’d catch on quick enough. He knew the gravity of the situation; he could connect the rest of the dots by taking a mental picture of everything else.

  Unruffled even with a weapon poised at his back, Henry tried to reason with our captors. “There’s no need for any of this, gentleman. We . . . I can get you your money, no matter how much it is. Please . . .” His eyes landed on Memphis who was still face down on the floor, but finally starting to stir. “Please don’t hurt anyone else.”

  His words echoed in my ears as if they were a sacred hymn, a well-timed answer to my prayers. I can get you your money.

  This man was a fucking blessing at every goddamn turn. Without even knowing it, he’d just saved all of our lives. I would kiss him right on the mouth if I could get to my feet quick enough.

  If Henry was offering to pay them off, that meant he could lay out the remainder of the fifty grand that I didn’t have. No doubt, it was a lot to ask of someone who didn’t know Memphis or Hunter from Adam, but that was fucking Henry. He’d do anything to save his girls. Just like me. And I would get every dollar of it back to him myself—with interest—if it meant settling the score with these assholes and getting them out of our lives forever. I’d worry about how Memphis and Hunter would pay me back another time, because, make no mistake, this was no charity case. There was no way in hell I was letting them skate away from this.

  But again . . . priorities. Pay Cedric and Marco now and live to tell about it. Have Memphis and Hunter make up for it later.

  With my head finally on straight, I cleared my throat and stood up slowly. The stress and excitement were taking a toll on my weary body, but I would withstand any threshold of pain to put an end to this nightmare.

  “The quicker you let us get your money, the quicker you can be on your merry way,” I said, eyeing Henry before gauging a reaction from either of the men.

  “You told me you had the whole fifty,” Marco snarled at me. “What do we need him for?” He pointed his thumb at Henry.

  “What does it matter who you get it from, as long as you get it?” I realized that if I kept running my big mouth like this I could wind up on the floor next to Memphis. Or worse, on the more dangerous side of that gun.

  But to my surprise, Cedric shrugged as he flashed a wiseass grin at Marco. “He’s right. Fifty Gs are fifty Gs. Let’s just get the fucking money so we can head back. We’ve wasted enough time on this shit already. I want to go home.”

  Marco didn’t seem as convinced as his idiot sidekick, but after a few more minutes of scanning the room and seemingly weighing his options he must’ve realized he couldn’t hold us hostage forever. It was either get rid of us or get on with the show.

  Thankfully, he opted for the outcome that ensured we’d live to see another day.

  “Fine.” He huffed. “I’ll go get the money with the old man and lover boy over here. You keep the rest of them in this room and don’t let them move a fucking muscle until I get back.”

  The next hour or so was a jumbled blur. Bits and pieces of what was happening stood out more than others, but it was almost impossible
to grasp that this was our reality and not some blockbuster movie starring Edward Norton or Al Pacino.

  By the time we made it back to Ella’s house with the money in tow, I was confident we were in the home stretch. Marco had his money. My fucking bank account was depleted, but London, Allie, Hunter, and a now-conscious but beat-up Memphis were all safe. Our work here was done. And so was Marco and Cedric’s. Could life go back to normal now?

  “Fuck with us again and you’ll think today was a fucking picnic. I better never see your sorry ass in Vegas again, you hear?” Marco’s warning to Hunter rang loud and clear.

  They rounded up the last of their shit, concealed their weapons once again, and threatened everyone to not speak of today’s incident to anyone.

  It was clear that no one would say boo about any of this shit. Not after seeing what they were capable of and knowing that people like them could track us down better than a pack of hungry wolves at dinner time.

  If I weren’t so exhausted—and thankful they spared our lives in the end—I would have left them with some sarcastic remark about how sad I was to see them go. But this was no time for joking around or stirring the pot. Truth be told, things could have turned out a lot uglier than they did. We were lucky. Broken and defeated, but fucking lucky to be alive.

  But lucky as I felt to hold London in my arms again, that didn’t erase the rage I felt toward Memphis and Hunter for getting us mixed up in this shit.

  Releasing my grip on London’s hand, I used the edge of the bed for leverage to get up to my feet. Slowly but with determination, I walked over to Hunter, who did not take his eyes off me as I made my way to him.

  With a deep breath and a gut full of hatred for how he’d compromised London—for how he’d compromised every last one of us in this room—I drew my arm back. My fist met his face with a gratifying crush of my knuckles meeting his nose.

  “Sam! Stop!” London cried behind me.

  “Oh, come on, man. Don’t do this!” Memphis croaked, rushing to my side.

  “You’re better than this, son.” Henry tried to step in.

  But Hunter didn’t say a word or even try to fight back. He let me wail on him, blow after blow until I was breathless and my incision stung so intensely I could no longer see straight. “You could’ve got her killed, you piece of shit!”

  “Stop it!” London said again, bracketing my shoulders in her embrace and coaxing me to relent.

  I wanted to kill him. I was no better than Cedric or Marco. I wanted to see him suffer. I wanted to make him pay.

  But I was no monster. You’re the fucking hero, I reminded myself. You’re better than this. Than him.

  I needed to get my shit together before I wound up back in the hospital—or put Hunter in it.

  Collapsing into London’s arms, I held her close and caught my breath. “Fuck!” I mumbled into the crook of her neck, hissing through the searing pain. Henry came to my aid and both he and London lowered me onto the bed so I could sit down.

  Memphis grabbed something from the floor and offered it to Hunter so he could wipe off his face.

  “I’m sorry.” Hunter wheezed as he backed himself against a wall and dabbed at the blood dripping from the corner of his swollen lip. “I’m fucking sorry!”

  “Sorry isn’t enough, Hunter!”

  He nearly got us killed. Henry and I were out fifty grand—our hard earned money, gone, on its way to Vegas with those two lowlifes. It didn’t matter how sorry he was, nothing could take away the anguish of almost losing London.

  Hunter had a serious addiction that was now affecting all of us. He’d taken Memphis down with him and nothing would ever be the same again because of what we were forced to endure today.

  But he was sorry. That was supposed to make everything better, right? Was I supposed to do a happy dance and pretend the mere sight of him didn’t make me sick? Not a chance.

  “Can we go home now?” I begged London. “I need to get out of here. I don’t feel so great.”

  Eyes bright and alert, she pressed the back of her hand to my forehead. “You’re a little hot. Maybe we should get you back to the hospital. Have Doctor Bronson check you out, make sure everything’s okay.”

  “No!” I insisted. “I just want to get the hell out of here. I want to put this all behind us.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Sam.” London bent down and cupped my cheeks in her warm hands. “We can’t run away from this. We have to deal with it.”

  My skin sizzled from the inside out. The rapid beating of my heart drowned out every other sound in the room. I didn’t feel right. I was queasy and dizzy.

  “We will, babe. Just not tonight. I’m so fucking tired. I want to go home.” I blinked away the fuzzy dots forming in front of my eyes and tried to make out London’s beautiful face just inches from mine.

  Blink, blink, blink . . . darkness.

  When I opened my eyes again, I was in the last place I wanted to be.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Goodwin,” the nurse said as she monitored my vitals. “I’ll let Doctor Bronson know you’re awake.”

  London

  COULD THIS DAY—this goddamn week—get any worse?

  I didn’t even want to tempt the universe by asking that question aloud. So I kept it to myself as I rode with Sam in the back of the ambulance, waited patiently for them to admit him, and then sat vigil by his hospital bed.

  It took him more than an hour to come to. And during that hour I bit my nails down to ragged stubs worrying to no end that he’d done irreversible damage.

  The doctors and nurses informed me that he was dehydrated, had a low grade fever, and a few of his stitches had come undone. They redressed his wounds and started an IV of fluids, assuring me he would be fine after another day of monitoring.

  I wanted to kill him for overexerting himself and winding up back here. But I also wanted to kiss him for being so brave and selfless.

  So, that’s what I did, hoping that doing so would have a fairytale-like outcome. Like when the prince kissed the princess awake and everything magically became perfect again.

  “Hi,” I said with my lips pressed again his.

  “Hi,” he whispered back, confused and groggy.

  Rather than singing birds or pixy dust to add to the enchantment of the moment, we had beeping machines and the smell of antiseptic to enhance the magic of our kiss. Weird as it was, it made sense and I wouldn’t want it any other way. The odd and unusual setting was growing on me. This place had become a second home.

  “What happened?” he asked as he searched the room and my eyes for answers.

  I ran my fingers through his messy hair and swept it away from his forehead. “You overdid it, that’s what happened. And now you’ve earned yourself another night in the ICU. Well done!”

  “Argh,” he groaned as he rolled his eyes and buried his head into the pillow. “When will this ever end?”

  Licking my lips, I smiled and then bent down to kiss him again. “The worst is finally behind us, thanks to you.”

  I started to pull away but Sam’s hand at the base of my neck held me in place. He deepened our kiss, stirring up emotions that had been tested over the course of the last few days. As our lips and tongues danced in a familiar rhythm reserved only for the kind of love the two of us shared, everything came rushing back. I was reminded of how happy we were together. How alive I felt beside him. How selflessly and unconditionally he loved me and how nothing else—no one else—mattered anymore. The lies, the secrets, the meaning behind any of them. I didn’t care that Hunter was back to claim me or that he was sorry for what he did. I didn’t care that he sought forgiveness or a second chance.

  My choice was clear. All along it was crystal clear. I wanted Sam. A future. A family. A forever. With Sam.

  “I want to marry you, Samuel,” I whispered into his mouth without thinking.

  One of the machines he was hooked up to released a series of high-pitched beeps. I turned to see where it was coming from and
laughed when I realized it was the machine that monitored his blood pressure and heart rate.

  “Did I literally make your heart skip a beat?” I giggled.

  He blinked twice and gulped. “Yeah, you did, but I’m not sure I heard you correctly. Your lips were in the way.”

  I’d show him whose lips were in the way. Hovering over him, I smothered him with tiny but obnoxious pecks along his face and neck, finally nibbling on the soft flesh of his lower lip. Pulling away, I gazed into my favorite pair of eyes on the planet. “What I said was . . . I want to marry you, Goodwin.”

  He fluttered his lids shut and breathed deeply through a satisfied grin. “Okay, I heard you loud and clear that time. And it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever said to me . . . but . . .”

  “But what?” I felt the blood drain from my face. How could there be a but?

  “You’re not proposing, London. That’s my job. And I want to do it right. Not laid up in this hospital bed without a ring, without the ability to get down on one knee, or to throw you around the bedroom the way I want to after you say yes.”

  Of course. I should’ve known better. Everything he said made my own heart go into arrhythmia. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. I’d never been more sure of anything. And while Sam wanted time to make sure he did “his job” the right way, I would find the nearest priest and have him marry us right here just to get it done and finally be his forever.

  But that wouldn’t be fair, now, would it? Sam had done the unimaginable for me. He risked his life—more than once. He saved the day, too many days to count. The least I could do was be patient and allow him the honor of asking for his best friend’s hand in marriage . . . the right way.

  “Fine. Have it your way.” I huffed, teasing him.

  “Oh, I will.” He chuckled, nudging my chin with his finger so our eyes locked once more. “I’m sorry I lied to you, London.”