Santa Assignment

by Delores Fossen

  Granville aimed the gun right at Brayden.

  "Trevor will be blamed," Granville continued. "I'll shoot him and make it look like a suicide. Yada, yada, yada. Then, I'll slip out the back, and everything will be tied up in a neat little package."

  "Not quite," Ashley mumbled.

  Brayden saw the flash of rage in her eyes. He saw the muscles tighten in her arms and face. And he knew what she was about to do. He yelled for her to stop.

  But it was too late.

  She rammed her elbow into Granville's stomach. In the same motion she dove to the side. But she wasn't fast enough.

  Because Granville pivoted his weapon toward Ashley and fired.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Ashley!" she heard Brayden yell.

  Only seconds before Granville's shot zinged through the air.

  The bullet missed her by a fraction, slamming into the sofa. Bits of foam stuffing and fabric flew through the air and fell around her like snow.

  "Get down, Brayden," she called out.

  Ashley did the same. She didn't waste any time scurrying behind the sofa. She grabbed a rusted can of paint, the only thing she could reach, and pushed it in front of her so she could use it as a weapon. Or use it to knock the gun from Granville's hand before he could fire another shot at Brayden.

  She heard Brayden dive to the side and prayed he'd found adequate cover. If there was such a thing. The room was crammed with assorted stuff, but none of it would stave off bullets. They were both at risk.

  And the baby.

  Especially the baby.

  All because Miles Granville couldn't let go of the past.

  It didn't seem a good time for a revelation. But heaven help her, it was. The life-and-death situation made her see things clearly. The past was the past, and it was time for her to move on. Time to start a new life with her baby.

  Maybe even with Brayden.

  Unfortunately, Granville might take that chance at a new start away from her.

  Granville fired again. This deadly swoosh of sound didn't come close to her and that meant it'd likely gone in Brayden's direction.

  Her heart jumped to her throat.

  The adrenaline slammed through her.

  And it took every ounce of her self-control not to come out from behind that sofa and pummel Granville. But that would be stupid. It would not only get her killed but Brayden, as well. Because he would almost certainly leave cover to try to protect her.

  So, Ashley waited. With her heartbeat pounding in her ears. With her throat, dry as dust. With every muscle in her body, knotted.

  There was a shuffle of sound. A slight movement, and she suspected that Granville had hidden behind something, as well. That would account for why Brayden hadn't returned fire. It had to be the reason.

  Because she refused to believe that Brayden might be hurt and incapable of returning fire.

  Another movement.

  Frantic, fast footsteps.

  And then Granville was there.

  Right next to her.

  This time, he didn't put the gun to her, but to her stomach.

  "Move," he mouthed. "And your baby dies."

  She froze.

  Because Granville's finger didn't seem too steady on the trigger and because of the insane look in his eyes. He'd definitely gone over the edge, and there would be no reasoning with him. If he fired now, neither she nor her baby would be able to survive that.

  "Help!" someone called out. "I need help."

  Not Brayden. And not Granville.

  It was Trevor.

  Walking right into a trap.

  "I'm bleeding. And the phones aren't working so I can't call for an ambulance." Not a fluent explanation. It was filled with gasping breaths. Definitely a man in pain. "Is anyone here?"

  Granville pushed the gun harder against her. "We're upstairs," he answered.

  Not a frantic shout or a rough snarl, but a slightly louder than average invitation.

  It worked.

  A moment later, Ashley heard Trevor's uneven, slow movements on the stairs. Not footsteps. He seemed to be crawling to get to them.

  But she also heard something else. No light shuffle this time. Just a burst of movement.

  Brayden launched himself over the back of the sofa.

  He tackled Granville. Ashley backed up, hoping she'd get a chance to hit Granville, but with the tangle of bodies, she wouldn't risk hitting Brayden.

  Granville outsized Brayden by a good thirty pounds, and he used that size to slam him against the floor. He didn't stop there. Before Brayden could reposition himself, Granville rammed his fist into the wound on Brayden's shoulder. Ashley heard Brayden's low growl of pain but still didn't have a clear angle at hitting Granville with the paint can.

  "Stay down, Ashley!" Brayden yelled.

  She had no plans to do that anytime soon. What she did intend to do was help him.

  Brayden's fist connected with the man's jaw, but in the ensuing scuffle, Granville knocked Brayden's gun from his hand. It slithered across the hardwood floor. Ashley didn't waste any time. She went after it and scooped it up just as Trevor staggered into the room.

  "What…"

  But Trevor didn't finish. And Ashley certainly didn't have time to tell him to get out of the way. Granville reared up from behind the sofa. His gun already aimed. Brayden latched onto his arm.

  But not before Granville pulled the trigger.

  With Brayden yelling for her to get down, Ashley hooked her arm around Trevor's waist and dove to the side, pulling them both to the floor. The bullet rammed into the wall in the exact spot where Trevor had been standing. Another second, and he would have been shot.

  Granville reaimed.

  She didn't waste any time and didn't bother untangling herself from Trevor.

  This was the moment she'd feared since Dana's death.

  The moment she'd prayed would never come.

  But it was also the moment she'd trained for.

  So that she could survive.

  And one way or another, she would survive. She had too much to live for to allow Miles Granville to take it away.

  Ashley turned the gun toward Granville and fired. Unlike the other shots, this was a deafening blast of sound. It echoed through the room. And the bullet sliced through Granville's right arm. His hand and his weapon jerked back from the impact.

  It didn't stop him, though.

  He made a feral sound of outrage. More animal than human. His face contorted into a grimace of agony and determination. Despite the blood and the pain, he braced his wrist so he could fire again.

  At her.

  Before she could reaim, Brayden came up off the floor and slammed his body into Granville's. They crashed against the window, glass flying. But it was enough to off-balance Granville.

  His shot missed her.

  Ashley pushed herself away from Trevor and raced across the room to help Brayden. But she couldn't help. She could only watch. It was too risky to fire while they were embroiled in a fistfight.

  "I'll kill her," Granville shouted. "So help me. I'll kill her and the kid, too."

  Because she was watching Brayden closely, Ashley saw the change in his body, the change in his expression. Granville's threat seemed to give Brayden a new surge of energy, of determination.

  Brayden's right fist came up, connecting hard with Granville's chin. Brayden didn't stop there. He launched another punch. And another. All slamming into Granville.

  Until the man's gun dropped to the floor.

  And Brayden still didn't stop.

  When Granville brought up his hands to continue the fight, Brayden hit him harder. So hard that Granville's body flew against the wall.

  Before he could launch himself at Brayden again, Ashley aimed the gun at Granville.

  Granville's wild gaze darted around the room like a caged animal. His attention landed on the window. Was he thinking about jumping, so he could try to escape?

  Ashley stepped closer. "Mov
e and you're a dead man."

  She didn't shout. There was no anger in her voice. Just a calm reckoning that she wouldn't let him get away.

  Granville's gaze left the window and sliced back to her. He examined her eyes, carefully, while emotion knotted and contorted the muscles in his body. His examination didn't unnerve Ashley because she knew he would see only resolve there.

  And he apparently did.

  Cursing her and cursing Brayden, Granville lifted his arm in the air and surrendered.

  * * *

  BRAYDEN LISTENED to the howl of the police sirens.

  A truly welcome sound.

  The moment the officers rushed into the room, he gladly turned Granville over to them. Granville—Dana's killer. Ashley's stalker. And the man who'd irrevocably altered so many lives.

  Granville's confession would almost certainly send him either to death row or to a life sentence in a maximum-security prison. Either way, the man wouldn't be able to hurt Ashley again.

  Granville's confession had also done something else. It had caused Brayden's heart to ache. For Dana. Maybe the ache would always be there. But it was different now. It was in perspective. Dana was gone, but he wasn't, and neither was Ashley. Too bad that it had taken almost losing her for him to realize that.

  "You're bleeding," Ashley muttered, her voice frantic. She grabbed a shirt from a box of clothes and pressed it to his wounded shoulder.

  More sirens. This time from an ambulance. The red lights blended with the blue ones from the cruisers, and the rays prismed around the room. Two officers put a still-cursing Miles Granville on a stretcher and got him out of there. Another was tending to Trevor Chapman.

  No cursing from Trevor. He was too busy trying to thank Ashley for pushing him out of the way of Granville's bullet. While he was at it, the man was also vowing that he wouldn't go through with those charges of police harassment that he'd threatened to file.

  It was routine chaos in some ways.

  But in other ways, there was nothing routine about what had just happened.

  "The medics are on their way up," one of the detectives informed Brayden.

  Every inch of him throbbed, but Brayden wasn't complaining about any of his injuries. Ashley was right next to him. And alive. She was a little bruised, and it might be a while before she got past the terrifying moments that Hyatt and Granville had put her through.

  But she was alive.

  And so was their baby.

  "This time you're definitely going to the hospital," Ashley insisted while she applied pressure to the wound. "And don't you dare disagree."

  Brayden didn't. Couldn't. Not that he particularly felt his injuries required a doctor, but he didn't want to do anything else to put panic in Ashley's eyes. She already looked panicked enough.

  "You're seeing a doctor, too," he countered.

  "Of course I am. But I'm not the one with a gash on my shoulder. I'm not the one bleeding."

  Because she was trembling, and simply because he wanted to touch her, he slid his hand over hers. "I'll be all right. Promise."

  Brayden had so much to say to her, so much he wanted to tell her. But the frantic, racing footsteps outside the door let him know he was within seconds of being whisked away by the medics. The timing was lousy for that heartfelt talk he'd promised her.

  "You saved my life," she whispered. She blinked back tears not very successfully. "Our lives," she corrected, moving his hand from hers to her stomach.

  Brayden pulled her closer, touched his mouth to hers. "You saved my life, too."

  And he meant it.

  She had.

  In more ways than one, Ashley had saved him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brayden found Ashley and Colton exactly where he expected to find them. In the living room, next to the piles of glittery fake snow.

  He smiled.

  Despite the fact that Christmas was long over, they'd kept up many of the decorations. A way of extending the season. And amid those decorations was Ashley's and Colton's favorite spot for their afternoon naps. It was always the first place Brayden looked when he came home for a late lunch to check on them.

  Which was often.

  Two months hadn't been nearly long enough for him to forget how close he'd come to losing her.

  A lifetime might not be enough to forget that.

  However, those nightmarish memories weren't the only reason he came home. Not even close. He came because these days, it was truly home.

  Colton was nestled in Ashley's arms. Also routine. They were lying on the floor on his grandmother's patchwork quilt, their heads directly beneath the fake Christmas tree. Colored lights twinkled and flashed in rhythm to some very tinny carols.

  But there was nothing routine or fake about the warmth that went through him.

  It was nothing short of a miracle.

  Brayden touched Ashley's cheek, and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled. Not a tentative smile, but a welcoming one. She eased herself away from Colton but not before planting a soft kiss on his son's forehead.

  "I gave the nanny a day off," she whispered.

  Yes. He'd figured that out. In fact, she'd given the nanny numerous days off. Brayden didn't mind in the least, and judging from what Colton had told him, neither did he. It suited both of them just fine that Ashley had become such an important part of their lives.

  "Want me to fix you some lunch?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

  Brayden shook his head and helped her to her feet. "Are you up for some company?"

  Her smile faded a little. "I guess. But is something wrong?"

  "No. My family just dropped by."

  "Your family?" Her smile dissolved completely. "All of them?"

  "All of them."

  He didn't explain. Looping his arm around her waist, Brayden led her to the kitchen where the O'Malley clan was quietly waiting.

  Garrett—sporting a few nicks and bruises courtesy of a recent undercover assignment—was munching on some leftovers he'd confiscated from the fridge. Katelyn and Joe were practically wrapped around each other. And finally there was his mom and dad, arms linked, they stood there.

  Waiting.

  All looking as anxious and concerned as Ashley.

  Ashley smoothed her hand through her hair, obviously trying to fix it. She also closed the laptop that she'd left on the table and straightened some papers involving her latest case.

  "What's going on?" Ashley mumbled, aiming her mumble at Brayden.

  "We'd like to know the same thing," Garrett confirmed, after he tackled another spoonful of chili.

  "Dr. Ellison called," Brayden explained, not able to hold back the surprise any longer. "She got the test results a couple of days earlier than expected."

  Brayden's surprise caused everyone to hold their breaths. Because they knew this was the doctor who'd done the amnio to test the baby's bone marrow.

  "We have a match," Brayden announced.

  The silence and breath holding ended immediately, and the room came alive again. Shouts of joy. Squeals of delight. Brayden celebrated right along with them.

  During the wait for the results, he hadn't dared let himself hope too much. But the waiting was over. Finally. Colton had a donor. Soon his son would be well, and he'd become a father again.

  He was very much looking forward to it.

  "Is there a party?" he heard Colton mumble.

  He looked over his shoulder to see the boy in the doorway. Colton was rubbing his still-sleepy eyes.

  Brayden scooped him up in his arms. "Yep. It's a party."

  His mother latched onto Ashley, and Brayden watched as each of his family members passed her around for hugs and kisses. She was smiling, then laughing, while the tears streamed down her face.

  The moment was perfect.

  Well, almost.

  "Why're we having a party?" Colton wanted to know.

  "We're celebrating. Because you're going to get well. Guaranteed. And there's also a bonus—y
ou're going to become a big brother."

  That cleared the sleepiness from Colton's eyes. "Really?"

  "Really," Ashley assured him, walking closer. "I'm going to have a baby, and he or she will be your little sister or brother."

  Colton's forehead wrinkled. "Not a pretend one, though, right? 'Cause if it's pretend, that'd make it like a doll, and I'd ruther have a puppy than a doll. A spotted one with brown eyes."

  "This baby is definitely not a pretend one," Ashley assured him. "It'll be the crying, diapers-required kind. Promise."

  Brayden placed her hand on her stomach. "The baby's in here. Growing. You'll get to see him…or her in about seven months."

  He hadn't expected anyone to let that last comment go unnoticed.

  And it was noticed all right.

  Ashley's gaze fired to his. So did the rest of the family's. In fact, the only one not staring at Brayden was Colton. He still had his attention focused on Ashley's stomach and was asking a question about how the baby managed to get in there.

  Brayden would answer that one later.

  "The amnio would have revealed the sex of the baby," his mom commented.

  Joe nodded in agreement.

  "And I'm sure Dr. Ellison wouldn't have kept that from you." That from Katelyn.

  "Not a chance," his father piped in, walking closer, as well. "The doctor would have told you something as important as that."

  "So, spill it," Garrett insisted. He strolled next to his sister and father. "Are we buying pink or blue badges this time around?"

  Brayden ignored them all and looked at Ashley. "Would you like to know?"

  She eagerly nodded and made a duh sound. "Of course."

  "Okay." He handed Colton to his father and instead scooped up Ashley. He headed for the hall.

  "Wait a minute." Not said by one of them, but by several. Garrett's voice, however, was the loudest. And it was Garrett who continued. "This is something we should all hear since it's a family thing. This kid is the newest O'Malley."

  Brayden shook his head, disagreeing. "I figure Ashley should hear the news first. She is after all the mother of this newest O'Malley."

  Ashley's expression was part smile, part surprise, but in it was mixed a little apprehension. "Please tell me you're not carrying me because something is wrong?"