She rubbed her hands down her arms, shaking.
“Are you all right, miss?” the maid asked.
Vicki turned to the maid. “No. Do you have a phone I could borrow to make a quick call? I’ll give it right back.”
The maid nodded and handed her a cell phone. Vicki’s fingers hesitated over the numbers. Freak-a-deek, she didn’t remember John’s number off the top of her head. He’d put it directly into her contacts. Same with the detective. She did remember her grandmother’s, though.
One ring, two.
Joonie picked up. “Hello?”
Her voice made Vicki’s knees weak. “Grams?”
“Vicki? Is that you? Where are you? Everyone’s been looking. Your love bug has been flipping out.”
John was going to love that nickname.
“I’m at the Hacienda hotel, and there are some guys after me. Can you call the police? They might be on their way, but let them know it’s an emergency, all right? One of the dudes just shot at me!”
“Okay, I will. You go hide somewhere. I’ll call John, too. That boy has been going nuts trying to find you.”
“Let them know about the danger. They’ve got guns.”
“Like I said, little girl. Go hide. We will be there soon.”
That was one order Vicki had no trouble following. She hid behind the curtain and watched the area outside for a few fraught moments.
The maid walked out with another cart. Vicki watched the thugs approach her and push her against a wall. The maid cringed and pointed to where Vicki currently hunkered. Vicki ducked out the side door and ran down the back alley. Footsteps thundered after her. Two sets. She hit the corner, another corner, and the parking lot again.
Vicki made it to the closest vehicle. A Dodge. She played with the door handle. Locked. She moved to the next car. The men ran down the aisle nearby. She dropped and looked under the cars. The dudes were two rows over, moving west. She went the opposite direction, stooping once to confirm where they were. When they went toward her row, she darted away in tandem with them. Their voices reached her.
One of the males, not the “policeman,” said with a distinct Southern accent, “She has to be around here. She couldn’t have gotten away. This complex is a box. The alleys all lead around here.”
The other whined, “We need to find her, man. She said she wouldn’t pay us if we failed again.”
“We’ll find her. There’s no place to hide.”
Vicki wished they weren’t right. This parking lot was small. She ducked lower, hearing one of the men slamming his fist against a nearby car roof.
When she peeked under the car again, she saw a man staring back.
He smiled happy as a clam. “Got her. Left, Steve,” he said in a Pittsburgh-type accent. Detective Wiley, the guy who had shot at her.
She got up and darted down the opposite aisle. A shot dinged off a nearby vehicle. She fell to the ground and covered her face.
The “detective” rounded the corner and pointed his gun at her forehead.
She froze.
A gun barrel stared her in the face. Guns didn’t look that scary until the muzzle pointed at you. Holy crap. Her breath hissed out, and she scooted backward.
Thug Two panted when he reached them both.
They bumped fists and turned to her with identical smiles. “Payday.”
The first guy cocked back his gun.
A click.
A shot.
Vicki jerked and turned her face away, waiting for the pain. A bullet lodged in the bumper in front of her face. The fake detective spun in a circle, then fell backward gripping his shoulder, blood pumping past his hand. Thug Two gaped, then pivoted to stare back down the aisle.
John tackled him from the side. They both went down in a pile of limbs. John came out on top. He leaned back and slammed a fist into the Southern guy’s face. Saliva sprayed the pavement next to her. She bumped back into the car. Her breath rattled out.
She watched John gather Thug Two’s shirt in his fist and use it to pull him up. One punch. Another. Thug Two covered his face with his arms and blubbered. “Stop, stop. I give up. I give up.”
John huffed and stared down at him, his cheeks puffing out. “Who sent you after Vicki? Talk, damn you.”
A shot rang out, startling a squeak out of her. She glanced down the alley to see Brae in a wide base stance holding his own gun. Thug One had gotten to his feet behind John but went down again with another bullet to the leg this time. Thug Two took advantage of the distraction provided by the shot to stagger up and knee John in the groin. John toppled sideways.
Vicki’s heart nearly exploded out of her chest when a hand clamped down on her shoulder and David’s voice sounded in her ear. “Come on, Vicki. We need to get you out of here. It isn’t safe.”
Holy crap. She turned to look behind her. “David, how did you find me?”
“Your phone. It was my birthday present to you last year. It has GPS. I knew where you were at the safe house. I followed John here from there.”
Vicki goggled. He chipped her. The asshole chipped her like a dog. She pulled back when he grabbed her hands. “No.”
“Yes, you don’t know what’s going on here. I need to get you somewhere safe.”
Vicki slapped at his fingers. “I’m safe here with John.”
“That dude is not going to be able to protect you, not from her.”
“He will. David, it isn’t your job to protect me anymore.”
David shook his head and got his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest. “It was always my job. Since the first moment I saw you, I loved you. And she couldn’t have that. She had to be the only woman in my life. But I didn’t realize how dangerous she was, Vicki. I swear it. Not until it was too late. I’m so sorry.”
Vicki had never been so disappointed to be wrong before. “Who? What are you talking about, David? Let me go. Please.” She struggled in his grasp. Her foot clipped his shin, but he kept on tugging her away from John.
“I can’t. She’s coming.” David reached for the handle on his Jag.
John’s voice rang out behind her. “Vicki, where are you?”
“I’m over—”
David’s hand covered her mouth, dragging her backward. “Shush. She might hear you.”
David had gone nuts. That had to be what was going on. Vicki tried to bite his hand, but his palm was too big. His fingers tightened on her face. She tried to scream. His hand stifled the sound. When they got to the car, he put his mouth by her ear. “Quiet, please. I promise I am not going to hurt you. We need to get out of here. Now. There is no time. Please, Vicki. I know she’s here. She’ll kill both of us if she sees.”
“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t making sense.
“Just get in,” he hissed.
Vicki pulled away and backed up. She felt a sting of pain across her cheek. She lifted her hand. Warmth flooded her neck.
And David’s face. “No!” he screamed. His jaw dropped. His hand reached out.
She brought her palm in front of her face. Blood? What the . . . She peered around, head spinning. Another shot. Her shoulder jolted back. John ran toward her. David reached out. Another shot.
This time, David reeled backward. His eyes wide. Crimson bloomed on his chest. Not the shoulder. His gaze locked on Vicki’s. His hand reached out. He coughed once and hit the ground. “Vicki . . .”
Vicki looked up. Brae stood behind them, his gun clasped between his hands. “You two okay?” he called out.
John rested his arm along Vicki’s shoulders. “Yeah, bud.”
Red-and-blue lights bathed the area around them when the police arrived a moment too late to be of any use.
Vicki phased out.
David’s eyes. The despair.
Bentley. “Call a bus. This guy’s down.”
John’s face above hers. John’s voice. “Baby, talk to me. Are you okay?”
Pain finally registered. She grabbed her should
er, her fingers numb. Blood streaked down the back of her hand. “Hurts.”
John’s eyes widened. “Bentley, Vicki’s been hit.”
Bentley called into his radio again. “Two buses. Hurry.”
Vicki’s knees went weak. John guided her to the nearest bench. He put his hand on the back of her neck and guided it between her legs. “You okay, baby? The ambulance will be here soon.”
“How’s David?”
John crouched in front of her. “Down. He’s unresponsive but hanging in. What did he say to you?”
“He said he would protect me. He kept saying she would kill me. She who?”
John shook his head and burrowed his face into her neck while they both stared at the gravel. “I don’t know. We will figure it out. I didn’t think David could have done it.”
“Me, either.” Vicki grimaced when he inadvertently nudged her shoulder, sending a fresh wave of shooting pain down her arm.
“It was too perfect.”
“Yeah.” Her head lolled backward.
“But that means there’s someone else after you,” John said, his head rising to look around.
At that moment, Delilah Watters ran into the courtyard. Her pale blonde hair fell from its perfect chignon around her face. She keened and crawled to her son. “David. David. Who did this to my baby?”
The paramedics grabbed her shoulders, prying her away from her David’s inert form as the ambulance backed up. “Who did this?” she shouted over and over.
Brae walked over to them, watching Delilah with an inscrutable expression while she threw herself over David’s body. “That is one devoted momma.”
Vicki twitched. David’s mother was awfully dedicated. Too dedicated. She’d always thought the mother-son bond was a little too close, almost oedipal. Could he have been speaking about his mother? Was she behind all of this? Looking at her now, crouched over her son, it was hard to imagine. Visions of the dinners she’d endured, the cutting remarks. The scathing glances. For everyone. Father, son, daughter-in-law. David keeping them apart. That made sense. It was Delilah. It had to be. Now to prove it. Vicki’s hands clenched. She’d set up her own son as a suspect to throw off suspicion. What lengths wouldn’t she go to?
The medic tugged at her jacket. Vicki glanced around dazed. The blood had soaked down the front of her shirt. John swore and gripped her fingers so tightly she couldn’t feel them anymore. That might have been the blood loss, too.
Pretty stars.
Twenty-Four
Vicki blinked and stared at the blank tiled ceiling. Which was fast becoming a way too familiar a sight. Fluorescent bulbs bathed the area in bright lights, showing white walls and beeping monitors.
Blech. Another hospital.
She went to stretch and felt fingers laced with hers. John’s head rested on the bed next to her hand. She lifted her pinkie and grazed it along his cheek.
His eyelashes drifted up. A smile wreathed his face, his eyes lightening. “Vicki.”
“Hi.”
He kissed her palm and pressed it to his face. “Glad you’re back with us.”
“What happened?”
“You swooned. Took a dive. Hit the floor.”
Vicki raised an eyebrow and shifted on the bed, plastic crackling. John braced her good side and helped her sit upright.
She smoothed her hands down the blue-and-white gown, kicking out from under the cheap white blanket. “So how did I end up here?”
John slipped his arm around her back. “You got shot. You didn’t even blink when they patched you up. They want to keep you overnight again, then you can come home tomorrow. The bullet didn’t hit any vital structures. You will need to take some antibiotics, but they don’t anticipate it giving you too much problem.”
She leaned her head onto his shoulder. “Home. Not much there anymore.”
“Your grandmother is all over that—her and your mother.”
Vicki looked up alarmed. “No!” That was her place.
John’s lips tilted up. “They stated they were going to replace everything that was yours with exactly the same thing. They promised.”
It wouldn’t be the same. “Can I stay with you?”
John snorted and kissed her temple. “Of course. That will be where you’re spending your nights anyway.”
“I think David’s mother is behind this,” Vicki said as she traced a finger along his chest.
His hand tightened on her side. “Why?”
“I don’t know. It makes sense to me. David said she wanted to be the only woman in his life, and he wasn’t seeing anyone. And until recently, he hadn’t realized how bad she was. Their relationship, it was weird. It has to be her.”
“Well, we’ll know soon. He’s in the hospital here, too, on another floor. He’s still in surgery, and Bentley’s waiting to interrogate him. So for now, you need to rest.” John pressed her back and tucked the covers around her legs.
“Yes, sir.” Vicki gave a mock salute.
“Save the sass for later,” he growled right next to her ear, “in bed.” That sounded promising. “When you’re recovered, of course.”
Bah.
****
The next morning, Vicki walked into John’s apartment with tentative steps. Her shoulder ached, but the doctor assured her that it was just a flesh wound. She’d passed out due to fear and adrenaline. Her blood count was fine, and she had to admit, she could move without too much pain. John paced in front of her and checked out the rooms, turning on all the lights. He’d cleaned up. Or, more likely, he had had Sara and her friends tidy up for him.
Vicki’s face fell when she saw the place, and John pressed her against his side. “What did I say, babe? It’s just stuff. Especially as a marine and traveling. There are only a few special things that I took with me everywhere.” John walked toward his kitchen and pulled a few pictures off the calendar.
The first was of Brae, Sara, Flick, and him in the bleachers at a football game. They had their arms around one another, big smiles plastered on their face.
The second one was of a typical barbecue at Mrs. J’s place, except that John’s mom had started chemo, and her hair was gone, as was everyone else’s. All the men and women, including Sara, had shaved their heads in support of her. The thought made her eyes burn. She rubbed at her face.
The last picture was of Vicki herself. She looked up with a gasp. He turned the photo so she could see the date on the back. It was taken the night he had kissed her at the homecoming football game. The day before he left. Her hair up in a ponytail with red-and-blue ribbons in place, her arms up in the air, legs bent for a jump, her short sweater inching up. John ran his fingers along the exposed skin. “This is what matters.”
“You kept these pictures all these years?”
“You and my family were with me in every war, every encounter. I wanted you near.”
Vicki grabbed his face and kissed him, pushing him back against the wall. The only thing that prevented her from jumping him right there was the ripping in her wound when she pulled up his shirt. She gasped.
John immediate pulled back. “What?” He rubbed his hands down her cheek.
“My shoulder, sorry.” She panned her gaze around the room. All the furniture had been replaced, including the couch. Her lips turned down. She liked the old couch. Their first time was there. She’d spilled some coffee right there. She walked over and placed her fingers over the stain . . . Wait.
She peeked at John when he followed her into the room. “Is this the same couch?”
He grinned with that little hint of mischief she loved. “Yes, I had it repaired. I have fond memories of this couch.”
“So do I.”
Vicki sat down and patted the cushion next to her.
John settled at her side facing her, his arms braced on his knees, his legs bent. “So . . .”
Vicki ducked her head and twisted her hands in her lap. “So . . .”
He’d been extra sweet in the hospital, but she kn
ew she would get it soon.
“You left me.” The words were harsh, raw.
“I just went to get cocoa. I couldn’t know they would be there.” She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. “I was scared. But you saved me. I knew you would, even when those dudes were breaking down my door. I knew you would find me.”
He drummed his fingers on his knees. “Did you?”
“Yes.” She smiled and ran her palm down his face. “Yes.”
He leaned forward and braced his forehead on hers. “I am so damn glad you are not hurt.” He kissed her, eyes closed. “When your grandmother called and told me gunmen were there. I thought . . . I thought the worst.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “We just found each other, and I almost lost you. I don’t want to waste any more time. You have always been the one, the only one. I want you to move in here with me. Forget having your own place. We’ll live together. And if this is too small, we can look for a house with a little land to play basketball, a pool. Decorated exactly how you want it. The place will be ours. Yours and mine. Together.”
Vicki’s heart fluttered at the expression on his face, yearning and something more. Her fingers grazed his eyebrow, the one with a scar, then dropped to his lips. “Yes.”
He blinked and pulled back a bit, his hand combing through the hair around her face. “That easy? It feels like there should be more drama involved.”
She groaned. “Haven’t we had enough drama?”
He nodded. “That is true.”
Her stomach bubbled in excitement; her hands grabbed his. “Let’s move in together. I would like a house. Somewhere close to your family out in the suburbs.”
John’s smiled blinded her. “Yes.”
And then they were kissing, his lips on hers.
Perfect.
Twenty-Five
The first thing David smelled when he woke was Chanel No. 5. His gorge rose, and he gagged. When he tried to move his hands, he couldn’t. He looked to see handcuffs on his wrists leading to a hospital bed. His eyes flashed to the side, and he saw stark white walls and monitors. His heart beat on one, and he watched the numbers rise. He yanked at the metal. Bitty stood by his side holding a Styrofoam cup.
Whole Again (Hometown Hero's Book 1) Page 18
