Lone Rider

by Lauren Bach

  Divers. Coast Guard and FBI.

  Grey spun back toward Sanchez’s boat. Four more armed divers were on that boat, one with a gun on Snake, another with a gun on Bogen. The other two had their weapons trained on Sanchez...who held Tess, a gun pressed to her temple.

  Grey’s heart lodged in his throat. He limped forward.

  “Give it up, Sanchez. You’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

  “Ahh, but look who I’ve got? Mamacita. Tell them to back off, or she gets it.”

  “You won’t get away.”

  “That’s not the question. Whether your girlfriend survives or not is. I beat your system once on a technicality. I can do it again. But can your girlfriend and her child survive a bullet to the head, at close range?” Sanchez cocked the gun.

  Tess felt the cold metal press into her temple, heard the awful click as the gun’s cylinder advanced.

  She looked at Grey, remembering his words. I love you always. If her life was to end, there was something she had to say.

  “I love you always, too,” she said.

  Sanchez started laughing behind her, his voice loud in her ear. He shook with his mirth. “You two make me sick, with all your talk of love. You’re loco.”

  When Sanchez dissolved in another fit of laughter, he loosened his grip slightly.

  Without a second thought, Tess took advantage of the movement, unlocking her knees and dropping straight down. Catching Sanchez off guard for mere seconds, giving the FBI a clear target, was her only chance. She had to take it; prayed it was enough.

  Two shots rang out in the night.

  Grey watched in horror as Tess crumpled to the deck, Sanchez on top of her. Ignoring his own injuries he clambered onto the larger boat.

  “Tess!” he called, as one of the divers cautiously pulled Sanchez off her.

  Her sobs told him she was alive. Grey tugged her into his arms, frantically checking her for a bullet wound.

  “I’m fine,” she wept.

  Grey kept her face averted as he looked down at Sanchez’s body. Twin bullet holes -- one on either side of his temple -- punctured Sanchez’s skull.

  Grey saluted the two divers. Then he pointed to Bogen and Snake. “These two men are fugitives.”

  One of the divers tossed a blanket to Grey, which he promptly wrapped around Tess.

  The diver, a FBI agent Grey had worked with before, nodded toward Tess. “She’s okay?”

  Grey nodded. “Barnes tip you off?”

  “Yeah. You owe him your ass.”

  Kevin had obviously escaped the handcuffs. Kevin knew the GPS coordinates, the players involved, and the back-story. He also knew exactly who to call at the Bureau to make things happen fast. Thank God.

  “Any word on Barry?” Grey had to ask.

  “Died in surgery.”

  Another diver accompanied Barry’s daughter to the deck. “Don’t tell her now,” Grey said. “Not out here.”

  . The night came alive with noise as the whap-whap-whap of an approaching helicopter filled the air. Lights from approaching boats dotted the horizon.

  “You’re hurt,” Tess looked at Grey.

  “It’s nothing. Is the baby okay?”

  She nodded shifting. “He’s pretty tough. Like his dad.”

  Grey pressed a kiss to her temple. “Will you marry me, Tess?”

  “Yes.”

  He tugged her close as the helicopter swept low over the boat. “I’ll propose properly later,” he yelled.

  “In that case I take back my yes -- until later.” She looked cautiously at the activity around them. “Is it really over?”

  “The bad part. The good is just beginning.”

  His lips swept down, capturing hers as his hand brushed protectively against her abdomen. Abruptly, he broke off the kiss.

  “Was that what I think it was?” he asked.

  Tess smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. She covered his hand with her own and nodded.

  “Our baby’s first kick.”

  EPILOGUE

  FIVE MONTHS LATER – NEW YORK CITY

  “I promise to love -- ooww -- honor and cherish you all the days of my life.” Tess was breathing heavy now, wanting to kick the minister. If he didn’t hurry...

  Grey looked suspiciously at Tess, noting the fine sheen of perspiration on her forehead. He turned to the dumbstruck minister, prompting him.

  “I think now might be a good time to pronounce us man and wife.”

  Tess nodded, unable to hold back another groan.

  The red-faced minister hurriedly muttered the words, his voice squeaking. “You may kiss the bride.”

  Grey ignored the man, prying the bouquet of roses from Tess’ grip and thrusting them at his new mother-in-law. “How long have you been having contractions?” he asked quietly.

  Madeline Marsh lost all color. “Oh my God! She’s having the baby,” she shrieked. “Get a doctor! Call an ambulance! We need pain medication!”

  Tess squeezed Grey’s hand, closing her eyes against the rising pain. “They started this morning, then stopped.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Don’t tell me. You wanted to be married before the baby came.”

  Tess nodded, miserable. She had also insisted they wait to marry until the trials were over. After numerous postponements, Bogen and Snake were finally convicted on first-degree murder last week.

  Grey brushed a kiss to her cheek. “Don’t you think this is pushing it?”

  “Push, yes.” Her face grew flushed as another contraction wracked her. “I thought I had plenty of time. They say the first baby takes forever.”

  Grey checked his watch. “How close are your contractions?”

  “I... don’t... know...”

  Too close. Grey was already moving her toward the elevator, praying they had enough time to make it to the hospital. He looked around at the startled guests, not surprised to find a hundred pairs of eyes watching.

  What was supposed to be a small family wedding in the ballroom at the top of the Marsh Manhattan had quickly mushroomed once Madeline had become involved. But at least she’d been more supportive.

  Grey nodded at Madeline. “I think now is a good time to break out the champagne. Just save us a bottle.”

  Kevin Barnes pushed through the crowd, gently taking Tess’ other arm. “Elise just stepped out to pump some breast milk.”

  Tess squealed. Kevin grew pale, and backed away. “I’ll go find her.”

  “We’ll meet you downstairs,” Grey called as the elevator doors opened. He helped Tess inside, then punched the button for the lobby, thankful they were in a private elevator.

  He looked at his wife. His wife. After all these months, Tess was his. He didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve this precious gift of life her body was prepared to give.

  She wore a full-length, off-the-shoulder white gown, with a long beaded veil that trailed behind her. He touched her protruding stomach reverently, knew he’d never get tired of seeing her like this...already thinking about getting her pregnant again. And again. And again.

  “Did I tell you how beautiful you look? How happy you’ve made me?” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “We didn’t even get pictures. Ohhh!”

  Grey touched her shoulder, taking in her obvious discomfort, wishing he could do more. “Want to start the breathing exercises?”

  “No....my water just broke.”

  Grey felt a moment’s panic as he glanced up and saw that they still had twenty-something floors to go. He needed to distract her. “Pant, sweetheart!”

  They were both thrown off-balance when the elevator suddenly jolted and started to slow. Grey’s arms shot out, catching her, holding her.

  The lights flickered twice then went out. The elevator lurched to a stop and immediately a yellow glow lit the cubicle as the emergency battery-powered lights came on.

  “What happened?” Tess demanded.

  “Power failure.” Grey d
epressed the emergency button twice, then turned just as Tess started sinking toward the floor.

  “I can’t hold it.” She grimaced, then screamed. “Oh, God!”

  Grey whipped off his coat and dropped down beside her, grasping her hand. A strong contraction shook her, causing her to raise up.

  “Squeeze my arm,” he encouraged. “We’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  Her nails dug into him as a second contraction gripped her. “Too late. It’s coming. Now,” she panted.

  “Now?”

  Disbelieving, Grey peeked under her frothy wedding dress surprised to find the baby’s head cresting.

  Just like in the video he’d watched a thousand times.

  He’d never felt so inadequate in his entire life.

  Shoving her gown out of the way, he yanked off her shoes and quickly peeled off her nylons. Not a moment too soon.

  “Push,” he ordered.

  Tess screamed, bearing down.

  “Again,” he said.

  Tess screamed once more, straining.

  “Good girl. Once more.”

  Tess fell back, sobbing. “I can’t.”

  Another contraction overtook her. Grey moved behind her, holding her, urging her. “We’ll do it together. Push!”

  Buoyed by her husband’s strength, Tess pushed. And panted. And pushed yet again.

  Ten minutes later, Chelsea Marsh Thomas drew her first breath, in her father’s hands, and began crying right along with both of her parents.