The Wedding Trap (Second Service)

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The Wedding Trap (Second Service) Page 6

by Adrienne Bell


  His shoulders fell a little. It was a convoluted sentiment and yet he seemed to understand her perfectly. He leaned in a little closer, but Beth kept her back pressed against the wall.

  "Everything is going to be fine," he assured her. "You're safe. Your family is safe. Your friends are safe." He spoke slowly, giving her time to let the words sink in.

  She nodded, wanting to believe him for the same strange reason that she’d believed everything he’d said since the moment she met him, even knowing that this time she had every reason not to.

  But she did, though not with the same blind trust that she had given before. He hadn't done anything to hurt her. All he’d done was help her. Still, she couldn't help but be wary. She wasn't stupid.

  Beth tilted her head to the side, concern rushing back over her. There was one person he hadn’t mentioned.

  "Are you safe?" she asked.

  The question seemed to throw him. For a brief moment there was a hitch in his relaxed demeanor. Tension flashed in his eyes, though Beth couldn't imagine why.

  He shrugged but didn't answer. Beth swallowed past the lump in her throat. No answer was all the answer she needed.

  "I guess you still aren’t going to tell me what's really going on here," she said.

  He shook his head slowly. "Good guess."

  Chapter 5

  Alex uncrossed his legs and tried to resettle himself into a more comfortable spot in his seat. The antique couches that lined the lobby were nice to look at, but they weren’t exactly plush. The cushions were painfully thin and the backings were as hard as stone. It wasn’t the type of thing he usually minded. He’d done surveillance in much worse conditions for longer periods of time without a single complaint.

  He couldn’t blame his lack of sleep. Sure, he’d only dipped in and out of the lightest sleep last night. His mind had buzzed, working out the details in this new little wrinkle in his assignment. That this new wrinkle happened to be an attractive and intriguing woman sleeping not twenty feet from him had nothing to do with it. But Alex knew from experience what sleep deprivation felt like, and this wasn’t it.

  No, what had him squirming in his seat was the look in her eyes as she’d left the room this morning. She was scared.

  He could understand why she would be scared of him. It was a perfectly rational reaction. But that wasn’t it. Not entirely.

  She was scared for him.

  No one ever worried about him. No one. Ever.

  All morning he'd struggled against the urge to reach out and pull her close. To wrap his arms around her and feel that soft mouth under his again. He’d passed it off as simple lust, something he understood well. But with that one look, she had floored him. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t know how to feel.

  Sitting in the windowsill, she'd been so open. So truthful. She'd thought of him when she didn't have to. She'd bought him breakfast after all the trouble and confusion he had caused. It was funny to think about it, but that muffin might have been the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

  Alex picked up the tablet at his side and pretended to read. He had to get back to thinking about his assignment, instead of a pair of soulful brown eyes.

  He’d been in this spot for an hour now, and no one familiar or suspicious had passed by. He hadn't really expected any action. John’s DHS team had all the entrances and exits covered. They would let him know if anyone of interest was on the move. If anything was going to happen this morning between the Munoz’s and his CIA leak it was doubtful that it would happen in clear view of the lobby.

  He could have complained that he’d wasted a whole morning, but that wasn't why he was down here on this ridiculous excuse for a couch. Not really.

  Beth had gone down to the spa with the rest of the bridesmaids, and, once she was done, she would have to come through the lobby. He hadn’t figured out what he was going to say when he saw her. He hadn’t even made up his mind if he was going to approach her at all. He didn't want to antagonize her if she still looked upset.

  But he did want to see her. For some reason that had become very important.

  Alex turned his head at the sound of heels clicking on marble. Beth was in the middle of a group of women making their way up the stairs. She was laughing, but her smile was still tight. Worry lines were etched around her eyes and forehead. Her body was tense.

  She gave Isobel Munoz a long hug, and then broke away from the pack. Alex tucked away his tablet, and rose, following close behind as she made her way to the front door of the lobby.

  "Beth," he said when he had almost caught up to her. She turned around warily.

  "Hey," she said. She didn't stop walking.

  He fell in to step beside her. "Where are you going?"

  "I have an errand to run for Isobel.”

  "You want some company?" he asked.

  That made her stop. She looked at him long and hard. She was worried he was dangerous. And he was. He wouldn't lie to her and tell her otherwise. The truth was he was far more dangerous than she could ever imagine.

  The only thing he could do was assure her that he would never harm her. And he never would. Never. That she would even think it a possibility cut him deeper than he wanted to admit.

  The look in her eyes was all apology when she opened her mouth. Before she could say a word, Spencer and Jordan Masterson walked out of the café. Jordan came over and clapped Alex on the back.

  "Hey guys, how are you?" he asked.

  "Just fine," Alex said.

  Spencer Masterson stayed where he was. His eyes were on Beth, and Alex didn't much like what he saw in them. He was like a child who didn't like seeing someone other kid playing with his toy. There was a mix of jealousy and, more concerning, anger. This was a man who didn't like to be shown up. And he blamed Beth for his humiliation.

  Alex hooked his arm around Beth's, and met Spencer's gaze full on. After a second, Spencer looked away, but none of his petty displeasure had subsided.

  "Where are you guys off to?" Jordan Masterson asked.

  "We have some errands to run," Alex said.

  Beth's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say a word.

  "Isobel's hooked you into running around for her again?” Spencer asked Beth.

  Beth's smile was strained and shaky. She was a terrible actress.

  "I don't mind," she said.

  “That’s right. We don't mind at all," Alex said looking Spencer straight in the eye. His stare was enough to drain some of the swagger out of the cocky son-of-a-bitch.

  Some, but not all.

  “You’d better be careful, Charlie. Beth doesn’t like guys who speak for her,” he said.

  “Really? Because from what I’ve heard, you were never really the best judge of her likes and dislikes.”

  “Boys,” Beth said, rolling her eyes. She was obviously annoyed with the pair of them. “Why do you even care what I’m doing, Spencer? Don’t you have plans of your own?”

  A slow smile spread across his face. He looked Alex up and down. “Yeah, I’ve got a few things of my own to look into today.”

  “Good luck with that,” Alex said, hooking his arm around Beth’s tense back and leading her toward the hotel doors.

  ***

  She was stuck with Charlie. It had to be written in the stars. She’d told him three dozen times in the four block walk to the florist that she didn't need him around, that he could go back to the hotel, that she was fine on her own. But he refused to take a hint.

  The worst part of it was that she wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. She knew that she should—he had proven to be a dangerous man, after all—but knowing something and feeling it were two different things. And the truth was she was having a hell of a time getting him out of her head.

  She'd wasted her time in the spa trying to figure out her feelings toward him. She felt some fear, sure. She wasn't used to guns or secret plans. But for some reason she wasn't scared of him. He'd been kind to her. He'd been helpful. He'd had every r
eason to be angry with her this morning for poking her nose into his stuff, but he hadn't been. He'd actually tried to calm her down.

  So she'd wasted what should have been the most relaxing time before the wedding desperately trying to figure him out. After two hours, she still didn't have an answer. She'd been hoping that a nice long walk alone might bring some clarity, but then he'd appeared at her side.

  She should be past letting him surprise her.

  She opened the door of florist shop and found him exactly where she’d left him, leaning against a brick wall, watching the traffic go by. He turned his face toward her as she stepped outside.

  "All done?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Was that all you needed to do?"

  "Yeah." She started walking back in the direction of the hotel. Within a few steps he was right back at her side.

  "Do you want to get some lunch?" He gave her the same smile that he had given her in the lounge last night, the one that turned her knees to jelly and set her heart fluttering in her chest. She hadn't felt those things since she'd been sixteen and Carlos Diaz had put his arm around her at a party.

  "There was an Ethiopian place that we passed on our way here that looked pretty good."

  "Um, I'm not sure," she said.

  "How's that? Either you're hungry or you're not."

  Beth stopped mid-stride and turned toward him. "Why do you want to have lunch with me?"

  "I didn't know I needed a reason," he said.

  She sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, you do. And a good one, too. Because I want to know what the hell is going on here."

  "Nothing is going on," he said.

  "Like hell," she said. "I don't know anything about you, Charlie. I don't even know your real name. All I do know is that you are armed, and have mysterious plans for the hotel that my best friend is getting married in this weekend. You're helping me with my silly little domestic problems, even though I can't figure out any way that it could possibly benefit you. And despite all of this, I can't seem to get you out of my head. So, yeah, I'm going need a reason that I should be in your presence any more than I absolutely have to."

  "You can't stop thinking about me?" A grin pulled up the corners of his mouth.

  Beth threw her hands up in the air. She turned away from him and strode in the direction of the hotel. She wouldn't slow down until she got there. Screw her pride. She'd hide out for the rest of the weekend in Isobel's room if she had to. Poor Jordan might find it a little awkward come Sunday night, but she was sure he'd understand once she explained.

  Sorry Jordan, but your wedding night is going to have to wait since through a series of mind-blowingly bad decisions, I have passed off a felon as my boyfriend, and he's down in my room right now, planning God knows what.

  Her humiliation would be complete.

  "Beth," his voice sounded a few feet behind her.

  She ignored him and kept going. She stormed her way through the crowded sidewalk. She weaved in and out of the crowd, tears welling up in her eyes. Pity was a self-indulgent emotion, but if she'd ever been tempted to give in to it, now was the time.

  Beth lifted her head just in time to see a man walking right toward her. She moved a few inches to the right. He mirrored her moves. Beth slowed her step. There was a look in the man’s eyes that disturbed her. Something wasn't right.

  "Beth," Charlie shouted. There was no annoyance in his voice now, only warning. Beth stopped cold. Something glinted in the man’s hand. The same glint she'd seen from Charlie's bag. He had a gun. And he was coming for her.

  She didn't have time to run. He was only a couple of feet away. She didn't even have time to scream.

  A second later, Beth was jarred hard to the left. Charlie's body slammed into her, shoving her into a small dark alley. She stumbled but kept her feet.

  The alley was narrow, only big enough for a trash can to be pulled between two buildings. It was barely wide enough for her to see around Charlie.

  He stood with his back to her at the entrance of the alley. His whole demeanor had changed. His shoulders were locked, his legs braced. He was ready for a fight.

  He was trying to protect her, she realized.

  The stupid man was going to get himself killed. You couldn't punch your way out a gun fight. Even Beth knew that.

  The man with the gun turned the corner, right into Charlie's path. Beth screamed out to warn him. She needn't have bothered.

  Charlie's palm shot out and curled around the man's right wrist. He wrenched it back at an unnatural angle. The man's face contorted in pain, but he held tight to the weapon. Charlie pulled back farther, until there was a sickening crack of bone and tendon. Only then did the man's hand involuntarily drop the gun. It clattered on the pavement and slid into the drainage ditch by the side of the building.

  Even with a badly broken wrist, the man still went after Charlie, punching with his left hand. Charlie ducked out of the way and the heel of his hand crashed against the man’s nose. Blood poured out, but the attacker still kept coming.

  There was a lethal grace to Charlie's movements, and his attacker’s, as well. Fists flew faster than Beth could keep track of in the small, dark space. There was no wasted movement. No time to get a reaction wrong.

  He's coming for me, she thought. It didn't make any sense. There was no reason. And yet she knew it as surely as anything. This man didn't just want to kill someone. He wanted to kill her. And if Charlie fell, he was going to.

  But Charlie didn't fall. Beth watched in wonder as every punch Charlie threw connected.

  The man stumbled back a few feet at Charlie's last blow. Both men had time to regroup. The attacker pulled out a shiny blade. Thin and four inches long, he held it in his palm like it was an extension of his hand. The next hit he connected to Charlie would kill him. The man smiled through the fountain of blood that poured down his face.

  This fight was as good as over.

  He rushed Charlie.

  Charlie didn't flinch. He waited until the man barreling toward him was close, then he slid his back against the wall and used the man's own momentum against him. Charlie pushed against his attacker’s back. The man stumbled, unable to regain his balance. He fell past Charlie, stopping just short of Beth.

  She skittered back until her back was against the wall at the back of the alley. She was trapped.

  The man looked up. His eyes locked with hers. His mouth twisted up in a murderous grin. He rushed her.

  Faster than Beth could blink, Charlie wrapped his arms around the man’s neck. With one sickening twist, her attacker’s head snapped to the side. A vacant look instantly filled his eyes, and his body went slack. His dead weight slumped to the ground.

  Beth stared. That didn't just happen. It couldn't have.

  She pressed her spine against the jagged brick wall at her back, desperate to get away from the body.

  A body. Dear God, there was a dead body in front of her. Dead eyes looked past her, but she couldn't look away.

  "Beth."

  She barely heard her name. It sounded like it was coming from far away. Her knees began to buckle. She didn't want to fall. If she did, she’d fall on top of it.

  Oh God.

  She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a rush of air that sputtered at the end.

  "Are you all right?" Charlie grasped her upper arms, forcing her to meet his gaze. She kept staring at the dead man. Charlie gave her a little shake when she didn't answer. "Are you hurt?"

  She looked up at him. There was concern in his eyes. Concern and something else. Fear. He was afraid she'd been hurt.

  The concern confused her more than anything. He'd just killed a man, right in front of her. And he'd done it with a kind of graceful efficiency that told her this wasn't the first time he'd done such a thing.

  "Beth?"

  She shook her head. "I-I'm not hurt," she said.

  He looked her up and down once before trusting her words. Only then did he let her
go.

  “Don't look at him, Beth,” Charlie said calmly. "Look at me."

  Beth snapped her eyes back to Charlie’s face and kept them there.

  "Y-you killed him." Her lips struggled to form the words.

  "I did," he said. He put his hand out to her. It was covered in blood. “You’re safe now.”

  "You killed him," she repeated, louder this time.

  He held his finger up to his lips. She glanced behind him. Just beyond was a city street, filled with sunlight and people. Someone could walk by at any moment. Someone could look down the alley and catch them with a dead body.

  "I had to. He was going to kill you, Beth."

  She shook her head frantically. "Why? Why would anyone want to kill me?" The words tumbled out of her. She didn't expect an answer, and he didn't give one.

  "Breathe," he told her. "Sit down if you need to."

  Beth nodded. She derived a strange sense of calm from the orders that he gave her. Someone else was in charge, and she didn't have to figure out what to do. She only had to listen. There was no reason in her brain right now. There was only the haunting image of life flickering out of the dead man's eyes.

  She slid down the wall until her legs were tucked underneath her.

  "I need to move him," Charlie said. His words floated in and out of Beth's head. “You might want to look away."

  Beth nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Charlie as he grabbed the dead man by the arms. He pulled him easily around the corner. With a barely a grunt, he lifted the large man into the dumpster and arranged some garbage bags over him. Then he pulled out his phone. He pressed a single button and waited.

  He spoke softly into the phone. Beth didn't catch every word he said, but it sounded like he was giving someone their location. After that there were some words she didn't understand, then a series of letters and numbers. Beth didn't try too hard to make sense of it.

  A minute later, he came over and held out his hand. She stared at it. He'd wiped off most of the blood, but there was still some buried in the creases of his palms and underneath his fingernails.

 

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