The Bad Judgment Series: The Complete Series

by Leigh James

  “Well, I love you too, and I don’t want to leave. So it’s a non-issue,” I said.

  “But it’s not,” he said, and now he sounded miserable. “I’m doing the wrong thing here, and I know it. If something happens to you because of me, I’ll never forgive myself. You should leave, Nicole. You should run far away from me. I’ve brought nothing but trouble to you. You’re brilliant. You’re supposed to have a long and illustrious career. And I’m taking that from you. Every second you’re here with me, every second that the authorities and God knows who else is looking for us, is time I’m taking away from you and your normal life. And maybe you won’t ever be able to go back.

  “It’s wrong. It’s wrong and I’m the one doing it to you. You’re not supposed to do bad things to people you love.”

  I sighed and grabbed his hand. “Walker, I understand what you’re saying. But it’s shortsighted.” He looked up at me and raised his eyebrows and I raised mine right back at him. “I understand that our situation’s…risky. But it’s better than the alternative. Do you know what would happen if I went back? I’d be in Federal custody before I even put the key in my lock. And they’d question me, interrogate me, and I wouldn’t talk, and my career would be over for sure.

  “Now, let’s say you had spared me all the trouble, and just left me back at the airport while you ran and hid. Do you know where I’d be?” I asked him. I could feel the adrenaline rolling through me as I warmed to the topic.

  “I wouldn’t be in Vegas, that’s for sure. I never would have made it through security. I’d probably be dead by now. David or Norris or the blonde in the Range Rover would have arranged my execution nicely. Maybe with a bomb. Or maybe with something a little less ostentatious, like a gun fitted with a silencer. Or a knife.” I watched as he shuddered.

  “Stop,” he said.

  “No,” I said, and instead of fear, it was anger that had me shaking. Anger at the people who’d done this. “If you want to feel guilty about something, feel guilty that the people who tried to kill me are still out there, free. Feel guilty that they’re between us right now. Feel guilty that Mandy’s dead and people think we’re responsible for it. We can’t let them win, Walker. We can’t let them take everything.

  “The most dangerous thing for us would be to be separated,” I said, quietly. “They already tried to kill me. If they got me now, they’d just torture me, first.”

  He looked up at me, his eyes dark. “I just want to go back in time. So I could do something different, so that this didn’t all happen to you. And I didn’t ruin your life,” he said.

  “You didn’t ruin my life,” I said. I was pretty sure I’d only been living a half-life until I’d met him. Some part of me had woken up, filled with desire and determination, since we’d been together. “I wouldn’t go back, even if I could. I chose you, Walker. As far as I’m concerned, it was meant to be.”

  “Nicole.” He pulled me onto his lap and held my face in his hands. “The part where we’re together — that was meant to be. The part where you almost got blown up because you were helping me? The part where you’re throwing your life and career away because people want to ruin me? I can’t believe that’s part of the plan,” he said.

  “It’s only the beginning part,” I said, trying to sound cautiously optimistic. “We have to see what happens next.”

  He gave me a lopsided smile and then tentatively kissed me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and kissed him back, not tentatively at all, and I felt him stir beneath me.

  “Well, I know what happens next,” he said, and he sounded more like his normal self. “But seriously — I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” he said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Now please, will you have me? And will you be on top? I feel like I need to let you have a little control….”

  He picked me up and carried me over to the bed. I tried to climb on top of him, but he gently grabbed my wrists and moved on top of me.

  “On second thought, let me be on top first,” he said. He kissed me and I burned beneath him, hot with desire. He rubbed his face against mine and kissed my neck. “I need a little control, to start with. I need to show you all the ways that you are mine.”

  Chapter 3

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” he asked me a few hours later, as the late-afternoon light slanted across the room.

  “The bad news,” I said, sitting up and looking at him. I winced when I moved; Walker and I had been busy all afternoon. We still hadn’t managed to get out of bed.

  “We have to go. Tonight,” Walker said, looking around the yucky apartment almost wistfully. “It wasn’t safe for us to go out like that today, but we had to. Now it’s time. But we have to get some more money first, get a vehicle. Then get out of Boston.”

  “Okay,” I said. “That doesn’t sound as bad as I was expecting.”

  “That’s because I haven’t gotten to the bad part yet. There isn’t anyone that we can contact right now to get more money from and we don’t have credit cards. The five thousand Levi gave us isn’t going to cut it. We can’t get a decent car and get very far on just that. We have to get access to cash.”

  I just looked at him for a beat. “Are you suggesting we rob a bank?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

  “No, Nic,” he said and smiled at me. “I’m suggesting that we rob my house.”

  * * *

  An hour later the apartment was empty, wiped down of all our prints, and we were shopping in the Dorchester superstore yet again. We were buying black backpacks and black T-shirts. All we had with us was the canvas bag from Levi, filled with two guns, two TracFones, and our papers. The only other things we had were our new baseball hats and the clothes on our backs. Walker grabbed two large bottles of water and some candy bars on the way out.

  “Dinner,” he said. He handed me a candy bar as we waited outside for the bus that would take us to the T, first to the Red Line and then to the Green Line, so we could go to Walker’s house. And rob it. While it was under surveillance.

  “Who knew dating a billionaire would be so fancy?” I asked, stuffing some of the candy bar into my mouth. I had a feeling my new diet of all sex and intermittent candy would do wonders for those five pounds I’d been wanting to lose.

  “At least I know you like me for me,” he said and laughed, pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes. “If we ever get out of this mess, I promise to wine and dine you. And buy you a house in the Caribbean.”

  “You don’t have to buy me a house,” I said, and beamed at him. “Unless you really want to.”

  We boarded the bus, which was empty at this time of night, except for a few people heading to work on the late shift. We finished our candy bars and got out at the Downtown Crossing stop, which was dead quiet, empty, all the shoppers and office workers long gone. We took the T one stop to Park Street, which was warm and smelled like pee, and then took the Green Line to Copley. We would have to walk for a ways, circling back where we’d come from, but we’d decided that it was smarter to take a circuitous route instead of going straight to Walker’s neighborhood.

  We stopped in a dark doorway and pulled on our black T-shirts. “Do you know how to fire a gun?” Walker asked me, quietly, as he arranged the contents of his backpack.

  “No,” I said. “I’ve never even touched one.”

  “I figured as much,” Walker said. I saw him put a gun inside the waistband of his shorts. “We’re going to have to do something about that, soon. I’m going to want you to learn how to shoot in case you have to protect yourself.”

  “Walker,” I said, suddenly dizzy, “you don’t plan on using that tonight, do you?”

  “No,” he said, and grabbed my hand. The streets near Copley had some people on them, spilling out from the restaurants and bars. We kept our heads down and walked around the perimeter of the park towards his neighborhood. “We’re not going to hurt anyone — wait, I mean, shoot. We’re not going to shoot anyone. We’ll probably hurt at lea
st a couple of people.”

  “What if they try to shoot us?” I asked.

  “Duck,” Walker said, and I could see the outlines of a smile on his face. “I’m kidding, Nic. I’m not going to let you anywhere near any shooting. You’re relegated to the sidelines for this whole thing. If I can disable the guards, I’ll bring you into the house with me, just to keep you within arm’s reach. But otherwise, you’re on the sidewalk. Or wherever else I decide to put you.”

  “I’m not just going to stand there and watch you put yourself in danger,” I said. I was starting to feel sick.

  He stopped and grabbed my hands, pulling me to him. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he said. “I know I haven’t kept you safe so far, but I can. I will. I have combat training, remember? I’ve seen a lot. This will be easy by comparison.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” I said.

  He squeezed my hands. “I promise you I won’t get hurt. And I’ll try to leave everyone else intact. But if something happens, you have to run,” he said. He took the envelope filled with money out of his backpack and stuffed it into mine. “You have to go stay somewhere safe. The Parkland Hotel is nearby — go there. And then call the police. Don’t call anyone else. Just call the Boston PD first and it will be okay.”

  “No it won’t,” I said, stopping on the sidewalk. I wanted us both to turn around and run away. “I don’t want to do this. We’ll be fine with five thousand. We don’t need more. We can just steal a car, if we have to.”

  “If you think I’m going to get hurt and get separated from you, you’re crazy. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let that happen,” Walker said. “I can keep us safe, Nicole. But you have to do as I say. And we always have to have a backup plan, just in case.

  “Do you trust me?” He asked.

  I nodded at him, yes. “Of course I do.”

  “Then stop whining and come on,” he said, pulling me back down the street.

  * * *

  The whole house was cordoned off with yellow police tape. There was a lone light on in the kitchen, but we couldn’t see inside. My heart sank at the sight of it. His beautiful house, which held happy memories for me, looked abandoned and almost sinister in its current state.

  There were no police cars out front. We stood a ways down the street and studied the property, but we didn’t see anyone standing guard. I watched Walker and I could see him assessing our entry options. He examined the scene for a minute and then made some sort of decision: he motioned for me to follow him down the street that bordered the house on the right. We stopped next to the fence that encompassed his backyard.

  “There’s got to be somebody here, but I’m going over,” he whispered, motioning to the fence. “If there are guards, they’re probably towards the front of the house, or maybe inside. Waiting for someone to try to get in. I’ll go in through the back and disable them, if I have to.”

  “So you’re going to jump the fence and announce that you’d like to rob your own house, preferably through the back door?” I hiss-whispered at him. “And leave me on the sidewalk?”

  He gave me an admonishing look under the streetlight. “Didn’t we just have the trust talk? Within the last five minutes?”

  I nodded at him, but I was skeptical. I wasn’t sure what he meant by “disabling” the guards, but it sounded dangerous — for him and for them.

  I heard him sigh as he took the gun out of the waistband of his shorts. Without a word, he jogged up to the corner, pointed it into the air and fired. The discharge shattered the peacefulness of the neighborhood; I yelped and clapped my hand over my mouth. Lights went on in several homes on the block and we heard people at the front of Walker’s house, yelling to each other, and the staticky noise of what sounded like a walkie-talkie.

  So they were here, and there was more than one of them. They were saying his address into the walkie-talkie. Fuck.

  Walker ran back to me. “We have two minutes until a backup vehicle gets here. Tops. So follow me, if you don’t like the sidewalk idea. I’m just gonna break through the back door and go straight upstairs to my room. Right now. You got it?”

  “With all the people in there?” I asked, but he didn’t even answer. My stomach contracted painfully as I watched him smash up against the fence’s door; it was locked from the inside. He rammed his shoulder and his whole body into it again, and then again; the gate shook and then finally gave way. Walker fell through and landed on his ass. None of this seemed to faze him. He sprung up, surveyed the yard with his gun out, and then motioned for me to follow. He led me to the house and smashed a panel of glass at the back door; he stuck his hand through carefully and opened it. We went in, his gun poised and ready, my heart thumping in my chest. We went through the laundry room right up the stairs. I could hear men in the kitchen and it sounded like there were some out on the front steps, too. Great. So not only were we outnumbered, we were vastly outnumbered.

  If we got caught, we would be over in so many ways, it hurt my head to think about it.

  Walker squeezed my hand as we made our way up the stairs. He moved so silently it surprised me. He was such a big guy that it didn’t seem like he should be able to be stealthy; now that I was officially on the run with him, I was going to have to reconcile his militaristic side with the suited, corporate billionaire I’d fallen for. I saw his bicep bulge as he positioned his gun, to make sure the top of the landing was clear.

  I won’t mind reconciling all his sides, I thought to myself, and then I remembered that I was petrified and that we needed to get the hell out of here.

  No one else appeared to be upstairs. He guided me into his dark room. He knew it by heart; he didn’t risk putting the light on. He placed me, back against the wall, in between his walk-in closet and the bathroom. He went quickly into the closet and I heard him feeling around, finally tapping something that sounded metallic. I could see lights outside on the street and I waited to hear the sirens that would inevitably be coming. For now, all I could hear was the noise of the men downstairs, the feedback of some sort of monitor, and the pounding of my own heart.

  Walker came right out, feeling his way in the darkness for me. He grabbed me, turned me around, and put something into my backpack. Then he grabbed my hand again and squeezed it hard, almost painfully. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew what he was asking. Are you ready? Can you do this?

  I squeezed his hand back.

  We flew down the stairs. I’m sure that we were quiet, but in my head we seemed loud and chaotic, probably because of the pounding in my temples. He stopped near the bottom, listening, making sure that no one was waiting in the living room. I held my breath. After a moment he pulled me after him, and we went back through the laundry room and out into the backyard, under the night sky.

  I almost exhaled in relief. Almost.

  We ran through the broken gate and that’s when I heard two things: sirens coming towards the house, and someone behind me.

  “Stop right there,” a voice commanded. My heart lurched in fear. Walker stopped in his tracks. In the darkness I could just make out the outline of Walker’s gun, held in front of him.

  He yanked my hand down, hard, and on instinct I dropped into a squat. He immediately fired off a shot — it would have hit me had I still been standing — and the guard screamed behind me. I watched in horror as he collapsed to the ground, cradling his knee, but Walker grabbed me and we ran down the street before I had time to fully comprehend what had just happened. The sirens were a wail now, close, probably at the front of the house.

  “Back here!” I heard the guard screaming. He sounded guttural, like a wild, wounded animal. “They’re armed!”

  Walker ran, fast, and he didn’t let go of me. I was flat-out sprinting behind him, my feet barely touching the ground as we flew down the street.

  “We have to make it around the next corner,” he said, his breath coming out in short huffs. My lungs seared as I ran next
to him. I thought I might throw up if I had the chance, but no chance presented itself. All I could hear was the commotion behind us at the house. I could sense someone back there, chasing us, but I couldn’t hear anything specific: just the pounding in my ears, my ragged, wheezing breath, sirens and yelling. Then gunfire.

  Bullets cracked on the sidewalk next to me. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” Walker yelled as we rounded the corner. He immediately pulled me into a dark driveway and we hid there, our backs against a random garage door. I could hear the person behind us, now. I desperately tried to catch my breath and I just stood there, bent over with my lungs on fire, while Walker held his gun out, poised and ready for whoever was coming.

  “I thought we weren’t going to shoot anybody,” I wheezed, barely able to get air into my burning lungs, barely able to process the horrible things that had just happened and were probably about to happen.

  “I promised you I wasn’t going to kill anybody,” Walker said, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “If I said no shooting, I misspoke. My apologies.”

  I heard the person running, then slowing down, then nothing. He was near us, but I didn’t know where. I watched Walker’s outline in the semi-darkness. He was coiled, ready to strike.

  And then there were shots from nowhere, hitting the driveway where we were hiding. “Stay down!” Walker hissed, and shoved me to the ground. He stepped in front of me, shielding me. I heard movement on the street and Walker fired out two rapid shots: then there was a scream and a thud, and the guard chasing us went quiet. I wasn’t sure if he was dead or waiting for us to move.