The wind picked up, and a good inch of snow now covered the ground.
“Wait,” came the reply from Trey. The radio in the mobile command station crackled. “He’s got another woman in front of him as a shield. It’s Mary Wickes.”
Dace’s anxiety shot up, but he maintained.
“Can he see if Mary’s okay?” The incident commander, Jefferson Harris, asked over the radio.
“There’s blood on her forehead.”
Motherfucker! Dace closed his eyes.
Dace remembered, like a festering wound, the last time he’d experienced this screaming grief. This couldn’t happen to him … again. It was like a nightmare he couldn’t flee from, one of those horror movies where the victim wanders aimlessly into a maze he can’t escape until the hatchet-wielding creep-who-never-dies comes on the scene and does his grisly business.
Back to business, the team plotted what must happen next. After they’d decided, Harris said, “Let’s move in.”
Now we’re talking.
“Wait. Not you, Banovic,” Harris said.
“What?”
“Hold up a minute.” Older by a good ten years, the Captain looked at Dace with hard, assessing eyes. “You all right?”
“I’m peachy.”
The commander snorted, understanding in his blue eyes. “Be honest with yourself and me. Can you operate like you always do, how you’ve been trained? If you can’t, you’re not participating in this op. I don’t care how short we are.”
“I’m in control.”
The SWAT commander stared at him for a solid fifteen seconds, gaze assessing with hawk-like precision. “Okay. Get out of here.”
Intellectually, Dace understood he shouldn’t even be on this operation. Emotionally, he wouldn’t back down. They’d have to drag his ass out of here, kicking and screaming. He’d get Mary out of there alive if he had to lie down and die for her.
* * * *
DK’s forearm tightened around Mary’s throat and she winced. “DK, please. You’re hurting me.”
DK kept his pressure on her neck. She almost groaned. She glanced at Hannah, not that far from her, and realized the woman was breathing. “DK, it doesn’t have to be this way. We can stop this right now.”
“No way. I want to be dead.”
“Why?”
“Because I put up with my mother’s bullshit for a lifetime and now that lifetime is up. Plus, the other bastards where I used to work need to understand. They need to see that I’m no damned pushover and that I mean business.”
Crap. This man had taken “going postal” to heart. She felt a trickle of something on her forehead and wondered if her cut still bled. A second later the press of cold steel jammed against her temple, and she couldn’t suppress a gasp of pain. His arm tightened around her throat, and she groaned as the hurt multiplied.
From her view out the massive window, she saw sheriff’s department cruisers in view, but they stayed well back. She knew Dace was out there and some of her terror eased. She trusted him completely, and knew in her heart he’d help her.
Flurries danced in the air outside, a complete white carpet covering the ground. The only good thing was the snow hadn’t turned to blizzard conditions.
DK released her abruptly, then grabbed a chair nearby. He hurled it through the window. As glass flew with a resounding crash, she shielded her face with her arms. Glass rained down on Hannah, and everything seemed to roll into slow motion. DK grabbed Mary around the throat again, his grip tight as he held the gun to her temple.
“Come on!” DK taunted the authorities as he yelled into the freezing air. “Come on! Shoot me!”
A SWAT negotiator spoke into a bullhorn. “DK, we don’t want to hurt you. We’ll wait as long as it takes to settle this peacefully.”
“I’m gonna kill her!”
“Mary and Hannah haven’t done anything. Let them go and let’s talk about what’s wrong. Nothing is so bad it has to come to this. We need you to step out of there with your hands up. No one will hurt you.”
“Don’t tell me that! Don’t tell me that! You don’t know jack about my problems!”
DK’s manic shriek pierced her ears, and her heart pounded with a thick thump, thump in her ears. She had to find a way to break loose from him before he became even more trigger-happy.
“Please let me sit down, okay? I feel sick.” That wasn’t a lie.
He pressed the gun harder into her temple, and she couldn’t suppress a pained gasp. “Don’t say another word or I kill you.”
Deciding she’d better not push him, she remained as still as possible. She made a vow again that if she managed to get out of this alive she would grab Dace and show him how important he’d become. How much she cared for him.
Please let me get that chance. Tears surged into her eyes.
“Maybe I have to rough her up a bit more to get some action?” DK asked the cops. “What if I just splatter her brains right now, or choke the life out of her?”
His arm tightened. She tried to pull in another breath but couldn’t. Without air she choked, a garbled noise coming from her throat. He pressed harder and her vision dimmed.
Struggle. Get out of his arms. Stomp his foot. Do something.
A loud pop blasted her ear.
The world turned to midnight.
* * * *
Dace paced up and down the small regional hospital emergency room. Kelso had returned to work, since they had about two hours left on shift. Dace had asked the SWAT commander if he could stay here and make certain about Mary and Hannah’s condition. The commander had no problem with it—neither woman had family in the area.
What the hell was taking so long anyway? Impatience sliced into him though he tried to tamp it down. He took one deep breath, realizing it wouldn’t do for his blood pressure to shoot through the roof. A nurse stepped out of the back area and headed toward him.
“Hey, Dace, how are you?” The woman’s grey hair was coiled at the back of her head, her lined face smiling and blue eyes calm as smooth Caribbean waters. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Hi, Bette. Yeah, I’m waiting to find out how Mary Wickes is and if I can see her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. They finished with her a few moments ago. I’ll go check.”
Frustrated, he realized he’d tied himself into knots that wouldn’t release. He planted his hands on his hips and continued pacing. He watched his black combat-style boots move back and forth over the old linoleum. His muscles bunched despite efforts to relax.
“Here she is,” Bette’s said as she led Mary into the waiting area.
Mary carried her bloodstained coat, her face drawn and pale. To his surprise she quirked a smile and her eyes perked up with amusement when she saw him. “All done and turned and ready to serve. I’ve been poked, prodded and examined so well I won’t have to see a doctor for a century.”
Despite his relief at seeing Mary looking steady, his gut still churned. He soaked in the sight of her, relief making him giddy. Tossed in disarray, her wavy brown curls were pulled into a ponytail. Her big brown eyes locked on his, and his heart eased somewhat. Her pale, heart-shaped face showed strain even a smile couldn’t hide. Though she was tall, her slender frame still looked small and frail. Delicate in a way that made him want to gather her into his arms and promise to protect her forever.
Dace went to her, his heartbeat slowing to a reasonable pace. “They’re letting you go?”
“Absolutely. I’m in great shape.”
He tilted her chin up and looked at her forehead. “What’s the verdict on this head injury?”
“Metal from the telephone hit me, and the end of that gun pressed against my temple caused the bruising right here.” She touched the spot just below her temple. “It’s sore, but I feel good.”
Then he saw the slight bruising around her neck and gritted his teeth. “Your throat sounds a little hoarse.”
She slipped into the bloodstained coat. “It is. But it isn’t
as serious as the paramedic thought. I’m tough as an old combat boot. The doctor gave me painkillers in case I need them, but I don’t think I will.”
“She should stay home for a couple of days,” Bette said. “Doctor’s orders.”
He took her arm. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Bette left them at the automatic glass doors that led from the emergency room to the parking lot. Evening started to fall as dark clouds laden with snow obscured much of the sun. Thankfully the blizzard conditions predicted hadn’t started yet, but the snow continued to accumulate. A few inches impeded their walk as they tromped across the snow-covered sidewalk. He took hold of her forearm. She walked steadily, no wavering or weakness evident.
“Would you mind driving me back to my car?” she asked as they reached his cruiser.
He opened the passenger door. “Honey, your windshield is gone, remember? Miller shot it out?”
She sank into the passenger seat. “Oh, damn. That’s right.”
After he’d slipped into the driver’s side, she removed her big coat and slung it over the back of the seat.
“What are you doing? It’s freezing in here.” He started the engine and flipped on the heater.
“I can’t wear this. Most of this blood is Miller’s. I’m going to throw it away. I … I can never wear it again.”
He eased out of his coat. “Here. This is warm.”
“No.”
“Humor me.”
With a wry smile, she slipped into the coat. The arms flopped over her fingers, and the whole thing hung like a sack on her. “Oh, you’re right. It’s toasty.” She inhaled deeply. “And it smells like you.”
He grinned. “Was I just insulted?”
She snuggled down in her seat. “No way. Whatever aftershave you’re wearing smells delicious.”
His cock went semi-erect. She liked his scent? A tingle of male anticipation danced through him. “Thanks. Now on to more serious thoughts.”
Her eyes clouded. “I thought I could avoid reality from now on. It’s a bitch.”
Her sardonic tone, he knew, hid some far more unstable and unpredictable emotions. “That it is. By the way, your car is impounded for evidence for a day or so. Anyway, you won’t need it for a couple of days.”
As they left the parking lot, she frowned at him. “Why wouldn’t I need it? It’s not like I have a second car.”
“Whoa.” He put one hand up. “Didn’t the doctor say you should stay home for at least two days to recover?”
“Yes, but I don’t know if I really need that time off.”
“Take it. Ease up on yourself.”
“You know what, Dace Banovic? You are one bossy man.”
“I don’t see why you can’t give yourself some slack. You’ve been through hell today.” He heard the rough edge in his voice, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I’ll take you home and I’ll call one of your friends to come stay with you.”
“Dace, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I know that.” He glanced at the clock on the dash of his cruiser. “Think of it this way. We haven’t missed our date tonight. I’ll fix you dinner.”
“Shelves are bare. I meant to go grocery shopping.”
“No problem. I’ll pick something up and bring it back to your place.”
He felt her staring at him, but he kept his mind on the road. “I thought with the weather you might have to work tonight.”
“Maybe, but it’s the end of my normal shift soon. The guys at work know what happened to you and they’ll try to cover if they can.”
“You mean you told them you and I had a date?”
“Yep. I’m not hiding my relationship with you anymore.”
“We have a relationship and you were hiding it?”
“Damn it, Mary, stop being so flippant. Let me take care of you at least for tonight.” His words came out gruff and indignant. “If after that you want me to get the hell out of your life, I’ll get the hell out.”
She went quiet after that, and he felt like the biggest ass in the world for snapping at her. Yep, he’d have to do a lot of making up for his evil temper this evening. He drew in a deep breath as they pulled into her apartment complex. He hadn’t liked the looks of this place last night; it wasn’t in one of the better neighborhoods. This particular building had seen too much criminal activity of late. He didn’t want to criticize her living arrangements, but he’d mention it at some point. Just not tonight. He wanted to scoop her up and take her to his place, but she needed the familiarity of her own space.
Once inside her apartment, she tossed her purse on the bench by the door. She left her bloodstained coat there as well. As she eased out of his coat and handed it to him, he caught the haunted expression in her eyes.
She wore a casual navy blue pants suit made out of that material that never seemed to wrinkle. She kicked off her black pumps and left them by the couch. More than anything she looked ready to drop. She came to a stop in the middle of the small open-plan living room. A world-weary expression haunted her gaze.
He moved in close. “Hey, you all right?”
She looked up at him, her eyebrows pinched. “I … don’t know.”
“It’s all right.” He wanted desperately to reassure her. He clasped her shoulders and massaged them gently. “You need to talk about it.”
“What I need, Dace, is for people to stop telling me what I need.”
*
Mary half expected him to back off and leave the apartment. She hadn’t been too welcoming of his concern, and that puzzled the crap out of her. She’d wanted to be with him, and now here he was. Slow-burning anger built inside her as Dace used his magic fingers to massage the tension from her shoulders.
She kept her gaze tangled with his, absorbing the warmth and caring beaming her way. She closed her eyes before tears could spill. God, she didn’t want to cry. She didn’t.
Too late. Two tears made their escape and leaked under her tightly closed eyes. He must have seen them right away, because he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to his whipcord hard body. He pressed her head gently to his shoulder and caressed her neck with tender touches.
“It’s all right.” If she’d thought his voice was iron hard earlier today when he’d been bossy as hell, now he coaxed her with soft, husky persuasion. “You’re safe. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”
“I know. I just…” Her voice muffled against his shoulder, and then she slipped her arms around his neck and held on tight. He felt so hard, he made her feel protected. Tears still spilled from her eyes. His grip tightened. “I just feel so strange. I’m sorry I barked at you earlier.”
His hands rubbed her back in a soothing rhythm. “No problem. I was bossy, like you said.” He pulled back. “Why don’t you take a shower or a bath? It’ll make you feel better. I’ll pick up something for us to eat.”
He kissed away one tear and then the next. Mary felt those exploratory brushes as if he’d kissed her all over her body. Heat flared, an unexpected reaction after the stress she’d experienced. She shivered, loving his gentleness and caring.
A slow burn lingered in his eyes. “Give me your key so I can get back in.”
She grabbed her keys from her purse and tossed them to Dace. He left with a promise to be back shortly.
Once in the bathroom, she stripped methodically, her brain foggy with emotions she couldn’t label. She wanted his embrace to clear the cobwebs and bizarre feelings assaulting her from every direction. In the shower, she stood under the spray longer than she usually did and contemplated the enormity of the day. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it, and that scared her. She didn’t want to feel this defenseless, this wobbly and dependent. Being dependent on a man equated to bad news, and she had plenty of evidence.
She turned off the shower, dried off, and tucked a big towel around herself. Because she’d forgotten to bring a change of clothes with her, she opened the door and dashed down
the hallway to her bedroom.
And ran smack into Dace coming around the corner.
Her arms came up to steady herself, and the towel slipped to the floor.
Chapter Six
No words could describe what Mary felt, pressed all along Dace’s strong body. Dace clasped her bare waist as he steadied her. His gaze dropped, and she knew he’d caught sight of her breasts mashed against his chest. Hyper-aware, her senses braced in the moment, in the way his tall, powerful frame pressed along the length of her. She absorbed his male scent, leather and musk and something uniquely his. A flush filled her face and traveled down her neck, but not from embarrassment. From pure desire. His jaw was tight, covered with five o’clock shadow, his eyes smoldering with obvious need.
“Oh, no,” she said softly.
He palmed her back as he cuddled her close. Her fingers dug into his shirt. Dace’s gaze flamed, his lips parting. “Food is ready.”
He turned away without another look and headed into the living room. She hovered between disappointment and relief, then realized she was standing there—to put it mildly—buck naked. Embarrassed, she grabbed the towel from the floor and rushed into the bedroom. She leaned back against the door, body trembling as she clutched the towel to her chest. She forced air through her lips and hurried to dress. She donned a bra, panties, and a royal blue velveteen sweat suit in record time. She allowed her damp hair to hang loose.
Dace probably thought she’d dropped the towel on purpose. God, she didn’t want him to think that. She hurried from her room and found Dace in her miniscule kitchen. He turned to her with a smile. The coffee pot gurgled. He’d bought some rotisserie chicken and a potato salad. Not greasy fast food, and she appreciated the home-cooked ambiance, the comfort.
“I made decaf. I figured we could both use it after the day we’ve had,” he said.
Within His Sight Page 6
