by Mandy Baxter
“I told you, you shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep.” She gave him a sad smile. From the moment she met him, she’d known that he wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met. Even when he knew they were all screwed, he was trying to save the day.
“I’m sure as hell going to keep this one,” he assured her. “Don’t you dare give up. Do you understand me?”
She nodded, unable to respond through the lump swelling in her throat. He’d never give up on her, would he? Tabitha knew that Damien would fight for her. Would do anything in his power to keep her safe. Emotion swelled in her chest, and the frantic rush of air slowed in her lungs until she no longer felt light-headed. So many people had disappointed her, taken advantage of her, neglected and abused her. But Damien never would. He loved her. She felt that love in every determined word he spoke. He’d never let her down.
And she wasn’t going to let him down, either.
“Get your ass in the car, Tabitha.” Gerald tugged at her elbow, his gun still pointed at Damien’s face. “Now.”
A calm settled over Tabitha with Gerald’s words. She wrapped her free hand around her fist, adding additional pressure to the detonator and swung out with her joined fists, catching Gerald in the gut. He doubled over with a whoof! and his free hand swung out in a backhand that caught Tabitha high on her cheek. She spun away, her good leg unable to retain her balance. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as she clutched her fists tight to her chest, protecting the detonator button at all costs. Damien dropped to the ground and rolled, avoiding a wild shot from Gerald’s gun that stirred up a cloud of dust. He grabbed his discarded weapon and fired three successive shots. She didn’t know if any of them had hit, but Gerald flew backward just the same. Time sped up as an army of law enforcement wearing head-to-toe black converged on the scene. Tabitha squeezed her eyes tightly shut and waited for the inevitable explosion. She peeked through one lid at her fists, still clutching the detonator. The switch still pressed firmly down.
Thank God.
“Tabitha!” Seth scrambled through the chaos, going to his knees at her side. “Are you okay?” She’d never heard Seth sound so scared. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t help but hope that if they made it out of this alive, tonight would put Seth on the right path once and for all.
Because even though Gerald was down, they were still far from safe.
“Give her some room, Seth.” Damien tugged at Seth’s arm, pulling him upright. “The bomb squad is on their way, but I need to get you out of here, do you understand?”
“Bullshit.” Seth disengaged from Damien’s grasp. “I’m staying with her.”
“Seth, no.” Tabitha wanted to sit up, but every inch of her body ached and she worried that any shift might loosen her grip on the detonator. “You need to get out of here. If you think I went through all of this tonight just so you could get your ass blown up, you’ve got another think coming.”
“And if you think I’m just going to abandon you, you’re out of your fucking mind!”
“She needs a clear head,” Damien chimed in. “She’s not going to be able to focus if you’re in danger, Seth. Let Deputy Gates get you out of here. I promise, I’ll keep you posted. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to let anything happen to her.”
“Come on, Seth.” Deputy Gates came up behind Damien. “Let us take care of this. Do your sister a favor and give her one less thing to worry about, all right?”
Seth turned to face Damien and stepped up until they were almost nose to nose. “I’m holding you to every single promise you’ve made to her. Don’t you dare let her down.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
Tabitha waited until Deputy Gates led Seth away. She watched the darkness swallow them as they left the perimeter of light offered by the headlights of the cars. Damien squatted down beside her and brushed his fingers through her hair, pulling the strands back from her forehead. “I’m going to help you sit up, okay?”
“Damien.” She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I don’t want to die.”
He should have killed Lightfoot. Put a bullet straight into the bastard’s brain instead of his shoulder. Death would have been an easy out, though. No matter how badly he wanted Lightfoot to pay for what he’d done to Tabitha, Damien was going to have to settle for letting him rot in prison. Living out the rest of his days in a super max wasn’t exactly a cakewalk but still, Damien wanted him to suffer. To feel every injury he’d inflicted on Tabitha, experience every ounce of fear a thousandfold.
“You’re not going to die, honey. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Tabitha’s humorless laughter did little to lighten the mood. “You might be used to getting your way, but there’s a first time for everything. I want you to leave, too, Damien. Get out of here before something bad happens.”
“I already told you, I’m not going anywhere. Now hang on to that detonator. I’m going to lift you up.”
As though she were made of bits of glass held together by cobwebs, Damien eased his arms around her and lifted Tabitha into his embrace. Her hands shook as she held the detonator button down with both thumbs, and he pulled her close to his chest, steadying the tremor that passed through her, into him.
“Where are we going?” She tucked her head into his shoulder, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. “I was thinking Cabo might be nice right about now.”
Damien chuckled. “That might be a little too far at the moment, but once this is over, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
In the distance, flashing lights sped down the freeway toward the Federal Way exit, a procession of ambulances, additional law enforcement, and several fire trucks. Boise PD was in the process of evacuating everyone within a five-mile radius, and additional support was in place to create roadblocks and divert traffic.
“Honestly, if we make it out of this alive, I’d be pretty damned happy with a trip to the ER.”
Damien’s gut burned with churning acid. The Marshals Service had better pray he never wound up in a room with Lightfoot. “Where do you hurt?”
Tabitha snorted. “I think the more appropriate question would be, where don’t I hurt? We’ve gone through the wringer this week, haven’t we?”
In the harsh glare of the multiple sets of headlights arriving on scene, Damien could see Tabitha’s bruised and swollen face more clearly. Her jaw was bluing and her lip was split and caked with dried blood. Her left cheek didn’t look much better, swollen and purple and darkening under her eye. And that was just the injuries he could readily see. “How’s your ankle holding up?”
“Oh, it’s broken,” Tabitha replied matter-of-factly. “I just hope it’s not shattered. A clean break will be easy to fix. I don’t really want surgery.”
“Deputy Evans,” a voice said in his earpiece. “The bomb squad is here and they’ve requested that you take Miss Martin to the command center they’ve set up at the north quadrant of the scene.”
“Copy.”
“What?” Tabitha searched his face, her brow furrowed.
“The bomb squad is here.” He changed course and headed toward the north side of the property. “They want you at their command center.”
“How do you know?”
“Earpiece.”
“Oh.”
Silence settled over them and it made Damien twitchy. He needed the sound of her voice to reassure him, to keep the fear he’d stuffed to the soles of his feet from surging up to overtake him.
“Damien, stop for a second.”
He looked down at her and slowed his pace. “It’s going to be okay, Tabitha. These guys know what they’re doing.”
“It’s not that. I need to say something and I don’t want to say it in front of an audience.”
Damien stopped dead in his tracks. He braced her against him with one arm and with the other he disconnected the wireless mic connecting him to the rest of the personnel on scene. His breath stalled and he swore his heart froz
e mid-beat. “I’m listening.”
“I . . .” Tabitha’s tongue flicked out at her swollen lip and she cringed. “Earlier today . . . I didn’t want you to leave. I thought that—”
Damien put his lips to hers, careful to make the contact featherlight. He kissed her jaw, her bruised cheek. “That’s not important right now,” he said against her ear. “Let’s get you out of this mess first. We’ll talk about everything else later. Okay?”
Her eyes drifted shut and she let out a slow breath. “Okay.”
As they approached the incident command post, a flurry of activity swarmed around them. Damien was reluctant to let Tabitha go, but they transferred her to a gurney with paramedics on scene ready to take care of her as soon as the bomb in Lightfoot’s car was disabled. Everyone was outfitted in thick protective gear: Kevlar, thick padded vests lined with space-age shit meant to protect their bodies from damage in the event of an impact. Damien was given a vest that he slipped into, and another was draped over Tabitha’s shoulders.
“Parker, I need a minute.”
He all but ignored the chief deputy’s request as he lost sight of Tabitha in a sea of explosives experts. She was scared, exhausted, stressed . . . “Later, Chief.” She needed him.
“Evans, now.”
Callihan’s tone brooked no argument, and unless Damien wanted to be brought up on review for insubordination or some shit, blowing a superior off wasn’t a good idea. “Yeah. Sorry. What’s up?”
“Lightfoot’s plane is in a private hangar at the airport. We need to get a team over there ASAP to clear the contents and seize it. This is your operation. You need to run point so we can wrap this up.”
“Tabitha—”
“Is not your responsibility. The guys from Gowen have this under control. Let them handle it.”
Damien pushed past the chief deputy, bound and determined to talk to Tabitha before he set out on this fool’s errand that any guy with a badge could do. “Evans!” Callihan barked. “You need to take a step back.”
As though just realizing there were more people than the two of them standing there, Damien noticed many sets of curious eyes watching his every move. His jaw clenched, his hands balled into tight fists. At any other scene, he would have passed off any witnesses, victims, innocent bystanders to EMS personnel or the first available officer of lower rank while he focused on tying up each and every loose end. But as soon as Lightfoot had been nullified, Damien’s whole world became attending to Tabitha. It obviously hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“I told her I’d stay with her, sir. I promised.”
“We can let her know that you had to leave. She’s well taken care of.”
They could launch an IA investigation if they wanted to. He wasn’t going anywhere. “With all due respect, I’m staying. At least until that explosive is defused. After I know Tabitha is safe, I’ll wrap up at the airport.”
Callihan let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re a stubborn son of a bitch. You know that?”
Damien brushed past the chief. “I do, sir.”
He pushed through the throng of Gowen Field’s best as he heard the frantic, pleading tone of Tabitha’s voice. “Can’t I just let it go? My fingers are going numb. I’m tired. My ankle is killing me. Please, I just want to let it go.”
Damien found her surrounded by a group of explosives experts trying to talk her out of taking her hand off the detonator until they could disarm Lightfoot’s bomb. Damien slid in behind her, not giving a single shit about the looks he got from the people around him, and eased her back against his chest. “I’m here, Tabitha.”
“I don’t know how much longer I can hold this damned button down, Damien.”
He closed his fists over hers to still the violent tremor of her hands. “Close your eyes.”
When her body relaxed against his, he knew she’d done as he asked. He let his own eyes drift shut, blocking out everything until there was just the two of them. “When I first laid eyes on you, I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t even form a coherent thought. No woman ever stopped me in my tracks before, but you did.”
Tabitha’s breath hitched and the tremor in her hands calmed by a small degree.
“Working undercover is hard. It’s fucking torture on my mind. I spend a month after every case in goddamned therapy, trying to talk out the anxiety that has become so normal that I didn’t think I could function without it. But in three weeks, you’ve done more for me than years of bullshitting with some shrink ever accomplished. You leveled me out, calmed that part of me that could never settle down. You’re like the best muscle relaxer on the market, honey. I’m addicted to you, Tabitha. I can’t live without you. So you’ve got to be strong and just hold down that button for a while longer. Can you do that for me?”
Something warm and wet dripped on his hand. Tap. And then again. Tap. Tabitha sniffed and Damien peeked through one lid and caught sight of a woman in full tactical gear. She held up the splayed fingers of one hand and mouthed, “Five minutes.”
Damien put his lips to Tabitha’s temple. “You’re doing great. Don’t cry, honey. Just a few more minutes.”
“Is Seth okay?” she whispered.
“Seth’s fine. Deputy Gates got him out of here and he’s okay.”
Her grip loosened but not enough to release the button. Good. The tension in her fingers led to the cramping. He needed her relaxed. Just five more minutes . . .
Damien continued to murmur in her ear, words of encouragement, mundane things, a story about the time he camped out on a cold snow-covered mountain in Afghanistan for three days without sleep. Minutes passed and Tabitha sat still, her thumbs holding down the button.
“Damien,” she said quietly, turning her face toward his. “I’m in love with you.”
His eyes flew open at the admission, his chest swelling to the point he thought it might burst. He’d been so scared that he might lose her tonight, too many close calls to count. He met the gaze of the woman marking the explosive ordnance team’s progress, and she smiled. Gave him a thumbs-up and said, “We’re good. The bomb’s disarmed.”
He leaned over Tabitha and squeezed her tight. “I am so in love with you, Tabitha. Open your eyes, baby. You can let go now.”
She couldn’t release her grip, but Damien helped to loosen her fingers from around the detonator. He handed it over to the woman standing beside them and shushed Tabitha as she cried quietly in his arms.
“It’s over, Tabitha. You’re going to be okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tabitha stared at the carts, machinery, and myriad medical tools in the too-bright hospital room. It sucked to be the patient, but she wasn’t about to give any of the nurses even a tiny bit of flak. She’d been examined, X-rayed, and her ankle was now sporting a bright pink cast—they didn’t have any black casting—and she’d just said good-bye to her brother for God knew how long.
The U.S. Marshals Service sure didn’t waste any time. Seth had been hauled from the scene of Gerald’s arrest and his belongings promptly packed. She’d hoped for more time with him. A few hours at least, but according to Deputy Gates, part of what made the witness protection program effective was the Marshals Service’s ability to relocate a witness quickly and quietly. She hadn’t been given enough time to say everything she’d wanted to say to her brother. Just a hug and a quick good-bye. And all she was left with was worry and guilt.
“All righty, I’ve got your discharge papers here, Tabitha. We just need you to sign them and you’re good to go.”
“Thanks.” She gave the nurse a wan smile as she mechanically signed each of the papers and took the little business card with the information for her follow-up appointments. The nurse handed her a baggie with a bottle of pain meds and a prescription for more if she needed them.
“Do you have someone to help you out at home, Tabitha? You’re going to be sore for a while and you won’t be running any races anytime soon.”
Did she? Uncertainty and doubt clawed away a
t her. After riding in the ambulance with her and getting her settled in the ER, Damien had had to leave to wrap up with the other marshals on the scene. Of course she understood and refused to let him feel bad for leaving her. He had a job to do, after all. But in the quiet aftermath of the worst ordeal of her life—and that was saying a lot considering her life—she couldn’t help but worry. What would happen now? Would Damien leave Boise? He’d said he loved her, but in the grand scheme of things, what did love matter when compared to his other obligations? He had a job. A life somewhere else. Would she be a part of Damien’s future or just a memory in his past?
“Tabitha? Are you sure this is what you want?” Deputy Gates stood just outside the exam room, his brow furrowed. He’d been designated Tabitha’s baby-sitter for the night, responsible for making sure she made it home safely.
“I’m sure. I don’t want to start over. Or hide. I’m tired of being scared and worried and I’m going to take my life back on my own terms.” It might have been the Norco talking, but she hadn’t felt so brave in a long time. “I’m just glad that Seth is going to be taken care of.”
The nurse interrupted any further conversation when she came up beside the exam table with a set of crutches and a wheelchair. “You’re good to go.” She handed Tabitha the crutches, while Deputy Gates took her paperwork. “Just take it easy for the next few weeks and don’t push yourself too hard.”
Tabitha settled into the wheelchair and put the crutches across her lap. She had a month until fall semester and her clinicals started, and since she doubted she’d have a job after tonight, there was a pretty good chance she’d have plenty of downtime. Not to mention weeks of ramen noodles ahead of her, since she wouldn’t have a paycheck for a while.
She waited with the nurse while Deputy Gates brought the car around. He parked under the ER’s portico and held open the passenger-side door. “Ready, Tabitha?”
Seth was safe, Joey was gone, and it wouldn’t be long before the rest of Joey’s partners, Tony included, would be rounded up by Boise PD. She had a fresh start ahead of her in a life that was one hundred percent in her control. So why did she feel as though she was about to lose everything?
