She hit the bottom feet first and her ankle cracked, her bad knee blazed with pain. She collapsed forward onto her belly and tried not to throw up.
Larissa landed beside her and groaned. She still clutched the gun in her hand and raised it, turning it toward herself.
No! They weren’t both going to escape through suicide. Someone had to be held accountable for Mathew. And for Meredith and David.
Natalie lunged over and grabbed the gun, yanking it sideways just as Larissa pulled the trigger. The crack of the weapon firing left her ears ringing, and the slide sliced open her hand, but the bullet burrowed harmlessly into the floor between their bodies. She wrenched the weapon away, and handed it to Greer, who skidded to a stop beside them.
He immediately turned it on Larissa. “Don’t you fucking move.”
She didn’t. In fact, she whimpered and curled up into the fetal position. Coward. Her and Bruce both. They had deserved each other.
Greer stared down at the other woman, and that old remoteness flooded back into his eyes. Hearing the details of his mother’s last moments must have hurt. Natalie ached from it, and she hadn’t even known Meredith.
Wait. Oh, God. From the beginning, he’d wanted revenge. Now he had the perfect opportunity. And when he tightened his grip on the gun, she knew he was going to take it.
“Greer, no. Don’t.” She sucked in a deep breath and shoved herself to her feet. The pain was intense and made her gasp, but she kept her gaze fastened on Greer. “It’s done. Let’s end the killing right here, right now.”
“She killed my parents, tore my family apart, all because she was jealous and wanted money.” His muscles trembled under the hand she laid on his forearm.
“From what I’ve seen, your family is pretty damn united.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. For what she did, she doesn’t deserve to live.”
“That’s not your call to make. You’re not in Syria.” She winced inwardly as the words left her mouth. They’d hurt him, but she had to make him understand. “Do you want more blood on your conscience?”
He flinched, and she forged on, praying that something she said would penetrate his anger. “The things you’ve done—they were sanctioned by our government. I get it and I don’t blame you for it. I’m proud of you because a lot of men can’t handle that kind of pressure. But, think about it, somewhere overseas, there’s a family and you are their Larissa. You’re their boogeyman. And remember Annalise? If you kill her grandmother, you’ll be her boogeyman. When does it stop?”
He blinked several times, but his gun hand didn’t waver. She was getting through, but not enough. Desperation rose inside her, closing up her throat. What did she have to say to—
On the floor by her foot, she noticed the magazine. She scooped it up and rifled through the pages until she found the picture of Meredith and her boys. She shoved it at his face. “Look at her, Greer. Your mother wanted you to dance. Not kill.”
He grabbed the magazine with his free hand, his gaze all but devouring the photo. Finally, he lowered the gun and released a shuddering breath filled with emotion. “I loved her so much.”
Eyes burning with tears she wasn’t ready to shed, Natalie wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into his side. “I know you did. And I know she loved you.” Just like I do. She didn’t say that last part out loud. It didn’t seem appropriate. At least, not now. “We should call Eva and have her arrested—”
As if on cue, the front door burst open and Eva swung inside, gun aimed, followed by another plainclothes cop and several in uniform.
“Speak of the devil.” Greer raised his hands, the gun dangling from his index finger. “How’d you find us?”
“Andy told us, and knowing you Wilde boys like I do, I figured something was going down and grabbed back-up.” Eva accepted the gun and handed it off to another officer. Then she holstered her own and assessed the scene with hands on her hips. “What happened here?”
Greer nodded toward Larissa. “Bruce Chambers had an accomplice. She admitted to my mother’s murder and then tried to kill Natalie.”
Eva arched a brow, then said over her shoulder, “Miguel, care to do the honors?”
The other detective, an older Hispanic guy with a bit of a belly, grinned and grabbed handcuffs from his belt. “Oh, yeah. Gladly. This case has haunted MPD for years.”
As he cuffed Larissa, Eva returned her attention to them. “Are you guys okay?”
Even though her leg felt like it was on fire, she opened her mouth to lie. “I’m—”
Greer sent her a sharp look. “Don’t finish that.” He scooped her up into his arms. “Natalie fell down the stairs.”
Eva nodded and was already reaching for her cell phone. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, I’ll take her,” Greer said. “Can I borrow your car?”
“Sure.” Eva shrugged and tossed him her keys. “I’m going to be here for a while anyway. Cam’s with Vaughn and Lark. I’ll have them swing by and pick me up.”
Greer said nothing more as he carried her out to Eva’s car and settled her in the passenger seat. He said nothing when he slid behind the wheel and drove out of the lot that was fast filling with police. And he still said nothing when he pulled up in front of the emergency room two minutes later. He just got out of the car and came around the hood to help her.
Was he mad at her for stopping him from killing Larissa? His face was a blank mask, and she had no way to gauge his emotions, but he still kept mum even when the doctors wheeled her away. He only stood there and watched her go.
Yep, she thought with a wince that had nothing to do with the pain in her leg. He was definitely angry.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Natalie was sound asleep by the time Greer convinced himself to go up to her room and see her. The doctors had explained that because of her history of blood clots in her bad leg, they were keeping her overnight for observation, but otherwise, she was lucky. The fall hadn’t re-injured her knee. As it was, she only had a fractured ankle and would be sporting a cast to match Cam’s for the next few weeks.
Even after the doctors told him he was free to visit her, he didn’t move from the chair in the waiting room. It wasn’t until his brothers showed up and started nagging on him that he finally worked up the nerve.
And here she was, sleeping.
Probably for the better. He was ashamed of himself for losing his cool like he had, for making her talk him away from the edge when she was the one in pain.
He was so fucking sick of living one step away from that edge. He needed help. If he had any chance of a shot with her, he needed to get right.
Christ, he wanted that shot. He couldn’t ever remember wanting anything so badly in his life.
He loved her.
And that scared him more than anything else. Could he give himself over to another person that completely? Would she even accept it if he did? She’d seen him at his worst. Lower, even. Why would an intelligent, independent woman like her want to tie herself down to a headcase like him? He turned away from her bed.
“Greer, where are you going?”
Shit. She was awake. He was tempted, so tempted, to pretend he hadn’t heard her. To keep walking and just…disappear again.
“You’re going to run off, aren’t you?” she said softly. “Where? Nigeria? Some other war-torn country?” She sniffled, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“Don’t cry.”
“Why not?” Her voice wavered. “The man I love finds it easier to be a soldier than to talk to me.”
“That’s not true.” He finally faced her. She was sitting up in bed, her bruised arms wrapped around her knees, tears falling freely from those lovely caramel eyes.
“Bullshit.” She laughed, but it was low and harsh. “Don’t you stand there and tell me you weren’t thinking of taking off.”
He winced. “I was, but—I wouldn’t have.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He took a step toward her. Stopped. “What do you want me to say? I’m screwed up. You know that better than anyone else in my life. Yes, going to war is easier for me. Yes, I’m better at killing than talking things out. I don’t know how to…love you.”
She blinked. “You don’t have to know how. You just feel it.”
He moistened his lips. “What if I can’t?”
She flinched as if he’d struck her. “You can’t love me back?”
“If I let myself love you, I’m opening the door to everything else I’ve kept locked up.”
“Maybe that door needs to be opened.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he said nothing.
Natalie sighed. “You need to make a choice. I love you, and I can’t do this by half measures. If you want to go back to your old life, I’m not going to stop you. But if you want there to be an us…” She lowered her legs and smoothed the sheet over them, then patted the bed next to her hip. “All you have to do is let me in and I’ll help you fight your demons.”
He hesitated. His arms ached to hold her, but his brain was still throwing out all kinds of warning flares. If he went to her now, there’d be no turning back. If he walked away, they were done. He saw that clearly enough in her eyes.
What was more frightening? Opening his heart to her or losing her?
Fuck it. When he peeled back all the layers of bullshit he’d wrapped his heart in, there was no contest. He took a step, and then another, and another. He was done looking back. She was his future.
Relief flashed across her face, and then he had her in his arms. Her fingers curled into his shirt at the small of his back, and she buried her face against his neck. He held her tightly, and the tension that had been knotting his muscles since he saw her tumble down the stairs finally eased.
“Natalie, I—” The words stuck in his throat, but he had to get them out. “I do love you. I don’t know when it happened, didn’t know it was possible. But when I was at my lowest, you were my angel. You brought me back to life when I didn’t even know I wanted to live.”
And there it was. He hadn’t only opened the door to his heart—he stuck a stick of C4 under it and blew it to pieces.
She pulled out of his arms and cupped his face in her hands. “Listen to me. You are a warrior, and depression is a war. You can win, and I promise I’ll be right there fighting by your side every step of the way.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. Thought of his buddy Zak Hendricks, drinking way too much and basically biding his time until either the alcohol or something else killed him. Thought of Jude’s best friend, Seth Harlan, and how hard he’d fought to heal himself. He wanted to be Seth, not Zak. He wanted to heal. “I don’t want to end up a statistic.”
“That’s half the battle.” She smiled and wiped at the tears on his face. “We will get you through this. We will win.”
A few weeks ago, he wouldn’t have believed her. But maybe there was a shot. He finally saw light at the end of the tunnel, and his angel was standing there with open arms.
He leaned in, brushed his lips lightly over hers. She opened her mouth, inviting him to take the kiss deeper and he did. He shoved his hand into her hair and sipped from her mouth like a man dying of thirst. He wished he could take her home, take her to bed, and get lost in her.
“Whoops!”
At the sound of Jude’s voice, Natalie broke the kiss.
He missed the contact immediately and scowled over his shoulder. “Go away.”
“No,” she said patiently and patted his cheek. She smiled at the crowd in the doorway. “You can come in, guys.”
“How are you?” Reece asked as the brothers filed in.
Jude rolled his eyes. “Obviously, since she was just sucking face with Greer, she’s fine. The more important question is…” He produced a handful of bright markers and grinned. “Do you have a cast?”
“Don’t let him near it,” the twins said at the same time.
“Actually…” She pulled back her sheet, exposing the plain white plaster wrapped around her ankle. “I do. Have at it.”
Jude sent a smug look toward the twins, then got to work creating his newest “casterpiece,” as he called them.
Greer leaned over and kissed her temple. “You’re probably going to regret this.”
“Nah.” She picked up one of the markers and sat up to draw a heart on the top of her foot. “I told the doctors to give me a white cast for just this reason.”
Jude paused in drawing long enough to press a hand to his chest. “After my own heart. If I wasn’t already married, I’d make an honest woman out of you.”
“Good thing you’re already married,” Greer said mildly, “or I’d have to kill you.”
Natalie elbowed him.
He frowned at her. “What? Just stating a fact.”
“Okay.” Jude jabbed the tip of a blue marker at him. “You make an honest woman out of her.”
“Give me that, you little shit.” He snatched the marker away, and, with Natalie smiling knowingly at him, he picked up her hand and drew on a crude ring. “I plan to.”
His brothers all went still.
Reece blinked several times behind the lens of his glasses. “Did you just propose?”
“Sure looks like he did.” Jude grinned and finished his drawing. He stepped back and motioned to the cast with a hand flourish. “Voila!”
Everyone leaned in, but there was no crazy drawing this time. Just a simple message in a script too elegant to have possibly come from Jude’s hand.
Welcome to the family.
“Hey!” the twins said in unison.
“How come she doesn’t get doodles of rainbow-farting unicorns?” Vaughn asked.
“Or happy dancing dicks?” Cam demanded, pointing to a way-too-detailed drawing on the side of his cast.
Jude shrugged and capped his marker. “’Cause I like her.”
The twins looked at each other, communicating in their freaky non-verbal way. Then they nodded.
“Dead man?” Cam asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Vaughn said.
“Jude, I’d start running if I were you,” Greer advised.
“Psh.” Jude waved a dismissive hand. “I can outrun Hobbles McGee.”
Cam pointed to Vaughn with one of his crutches. “But not his twin.”
Jude glanced back and forth between them. “Ohhh, shit. Bye, Natalie! Feel better.” He scrambled for the door as Vaughn took off like a rocket after him. Cam followed at a more leisurely pace, laughing and calling taunts at Jude.
“Brothers.” Reece heaved out a sigh and also went to the door. “I’d better make sure they don’t get themselves kicked out of the hospital. We’re here way too often to risk banishment.”
Greer watched them go and shook his head in amazement. “They’re never going to grow up.”
“Oh, admit it.” She rested her head on his arm. “You don’t want them to.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” They had lost so much of their childhood, and it was good to see them screwing around. It healed some of the wounds that had festered inside of him for twenty years. The rest of the wounds—the ones his brothers hadn’t been able to touch, the ones he’d hidden from them for fear of exposing too much of himself—Natalie would help heal.
And he loved her for it.
He lifted her hand and kissed her ring finger.
Her smile faded a little as she gazed down at the drawn-on ring.
He winced. “It’s not very good, is it? Reece and Jude got all the artistic skills in the family.”
“Did you mean it?”
Still holding her hand, he slid off the bed and got down on one knee. If he was doing this, he was doing it right. “Yes. I mean it with every beat of my heart.”
A slow smile spread over her face, and she picked up the marker, turned his hand over, and drew a band around his finger. Under it, she wrote three letters.
Yes.
Epilogue
&n
bsp; November
“The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” played over and over in Greer’s head. It was stuck there and wouldn’t fucking leave. He kept catching himself humming it while he finished up at the office, and he’d never hummed anything in his life. All because today’s bodyguard assignment had forced him to attend the Washington Ballet’s presentation of The Nutcracker with a French businessman’s ten-year-old daughter.
It wasn’t the first time the Frenchman and his family had used their services—both Cam and Jude had accompanied the girl in the past. And, while the Wilde brothers had all loved their mother dearly, and they all adored Natalie, none of them particularly loved sitting through a ballet, so they’d drawn straws.
He’d come up short.
What he wouldn’t tell his brothers was that, really, it hadn’t been so bad. He’d actually enjoyed himself. The little girl was amazingly bright and had a near-encyclopedic knowledge of ballet. When she found out he was the son of Meredith LaGrange and married to Natalie Taggart, she’d been starstruck. After seeing her safely home, he’d given her father Natalie’s card. He had no shame when it came to drumming up business for his wife’s new dance academy.
Now if only he could get the damn song out of his head.
Humming—again—he closed up the office and walked past the dark windows of Shelby’s coffee shop, which was closed for Thanksgiving. He paused at the next door down and smiled at the script painted on the door: The LaGrange-Wilde School of Dance.
As soon as Natalie’s ankle healed, they’d knocked out a wall between two of the empty stores in the old strip mall, and she quit her radio job to pour her soul into converting the space into a dance studio. Now it was just about finished, and they’d scheduled a grand opening for the beginning of January.
Greer pushed through the door, and “The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy” assaulted his ears. That was why he couldn’t get it out of his head. The music must have carried through the building’s ventilation system into the office.
Natalie glided across the studio floor like she was weightless, each movement precise, and yet still graceful. He was no expert—and yeah, he was more than a little biased—but he thought she performed the dance even better than the woman had on the stage tonight. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was mesmerizing.
Too Wilde to Tame (Wilde Security) Page 20
