“Then you waited for us and started shooting?” she asked. “What if you’d hit me? How was I going to tell you what you wanted to know then?”
“They don’t call me Trigger for nothing,” he said with unearned arrogance. “I know how to handle a gun. I only shoot what I mean to.”
She could have argued that point with examples. But she just nodded—regardless of whether or not he could see the motion in the dark. “What about those men in the administrator’s office? Weren’t you worried about them shooting me?”
He chuckled. “What would make you think I had anything to do with that? Didn’t they kill that woman?”
“After you questioned her about me,” she pointed out. “You spooked her. That’s why she was destroying records when we got to her office. That’s why you killed her, so she wouldn’t admit that she already talked to a U.S. Marshal. Were you trying to get rid of any trace that you’d even been there? That you’d even tracked me down?”
“That lady didn’t really matter one way or the other,” he said offhandedly. “I told the guys to take the shot if they got it.”
How had a lawman become so callous about life? Was it that they had faked so many witnesses’ deaths that he didn’t realize that some deaths were real?
“And me?” she asked.
“They weren’t supposed to shoot you,” he assured her. “I just paid them to get rid of the men with you.”
“Those men are better than you realized,” she said with pride. “Or maybe you knew how good they are and that’s why you hired the guys but stayed out of the line of fire yourself.” Even now he stubbornly stayed in the shadows, so that she couldn’t get a clear shot at him. He was both a bully and a coward.
He chuckled again. “They can’t help you now.”
Her heart slammed into her ribs. Had he killed them? Was it already too late for her to save the man she loved? Was it too late for her to tell Aaron that she loved him?
Her feelings probably wouldn’t matter to him. But she needed to say the words—needed to let him know how much he meant to her. And she needed the chance to tell him.
It didn’t matter that she didn’t have the shot. She lifted her gun to fire into the darkness.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Trigger warned. And he finally stepped from the shadows. Or at least he dissipated the darkness when he screwed back in the bulb of the porch light under which he stood. His gun wasn’t pointed at her though.
She could have taken the shot. But Trigger was Trigger Happy. His finger was already pressed to the trigger of his gun while the barrel of it was pressed against Aaron’s temple.
“I know you, Charlotte,” he said. “There was no way in hell you would tell me what I want to know to save yourself. I could press this gun to your head and you would let me pull the trigger before you’d ever give me the location of the witness.”
She nodded. “True. I won’t reveal the location of a witness.” Any witness, but most especially one with whom she’d bonded like she had Josie. It was no wonder that Aaron had fallen for the woman. She was smart and funny and sweet. And she deserved to live her life in peace—not with the constant threat of danger.
“But I think if it comes down between his life and hers, you’ll pick his,” Trigger said.
Aaron laughed. “You don’t know her as well as you think you do.”
“I think you’re the one who doesn’t know her,” Trigger said. “She loves you. Even when she didn’t really know who she was, Dr. Platt confirmed the amnesia wasn’t a trick, Charlotte knew that she loved you.”
She had wanted Aaron to know her feelings, but she’d wanted to be the one to tell him. And how had Trigger so easily recognized what had taken her so long to realize?
“I saw it on her face,” he continued talking to Aaron. “She won’t let me kill you.”
The guy was a hell of a lot smarter than Charlotte had given him credit for.
“So before I pull this trigger,” Trigger warned her, “you better tell me what I need to know. Where is Josie Jessup?”
Need to. Not want to know…
This was about more than money to Trigger, which made him even more desperate and dangerous. He would pull that trigger.
“Don’t tell him,” Aaron said. “Let him shoot!”
Charlotte flinched with the realization that the man she loved still loved another woman—so much that he was willing to give up his life for hers.
But Charlotte wasn’t willing to make that sacrifice.
Aaron might never be hers. But he belonged to someone else—he was the father of the baby she carried. And he would be a good father—the kind of father a little girl needed.
“I’ll tell you,” she said. “I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
*
IT WAS A trick. Charlotte Green wouldn’t give up the location of a witness. Not for her own life. And not for anyone else’s.
Aaron knew that as well as the U.S. Marshal did. The older man tensed and buried the barrel of his gun even deeper into the skin of Aaron’s temple.
“You’re going to tell me?” Trigger asked, his voice cracking with suspicion. “Really?”
“Let him go,” she negotiated, “and I’ll tell you.”
Trigger laughed. “You always treated me like I’m an idiot. You really think I’m going to take your word that’ll you tell me where she is once I release my leverage?”
“Do you think it matters?” Aaron asked. “Do you really think she’s going to give you Josie’s real location? She could tell you anywhere. Could set you up to walk into a booby-trapped house and get your head blown off. You just said she thinks you’re an idiot.” He snorted. “Sounds like she’s right to think that.”
“Aaron—” she protested.
It probably wasn’t his smartest move to goad the man holding a gun to his head. But then he’d never been all that smart where Charlotte was involved.
Apparently neither had Trigger since the guy actually thought she loved Aaron. Sure, she was attracted to him. Their attraction was so strong that the air between them fairly sizzled when they got close. But love was something else. Love implied need. And Charlotte Green had never needed anyone. She took independence and self-sufficiency to an extreme.
“You better not give me the wrong location,” Trigger threatened. “Because I’m bringing him with me and if your directions don’t lead me to Josie Jessup, he’ll get that bullet in his head.”
That had no doubt been his plan all along—to put a bullet in his head and one in Charlotte’s, too. He couldn’t leave behind any witnesses.
But he couldn’t kill Charlotte until he knew for certain she’d given him the correct location.
Charlotte lifted her hands above her head, as if she were being held up. “All right, I’ll tell you the truth.”
She met Aaron’s gaze, hers dark with frustration. And something else…pain.
How had he hurt her? He was trying to help her. Didn’t she realize?
“Ironically she’s not that far from here,” she said. “She’s in Michigan, too.” She named a city just a few hours north of where they were. Then she added a number and a street name.
Trigger grabbed Aaron’s arm and jerked him along with him, dragging him toward his vehicle. But the gun never left his temple. It would no doubt leave a mark even if the guy didn’t shoot.
“You can’t take him with you,” Charlotte protested. “I gave you what you wanted.”
“But as the man pointed out, you can’t be trusted, Charlotte.” He pushed Aaron through the passenger’s side of his car, keeping his gun barrel tight against his temple. “He’s my insurance that you’re telling the truth. If you are, I might let him live.”
The barrel vibrated as the man laughed with amusement over his own sick joke. “And if you are lying to me,” Trigger said, “I’ll be back. I’ll find you again. And the next person I’ll take away from you will be your kid.”
Charlotte gasped with obvious fear, a
nd her palm protectively covered her belly.
“It’d be a shame for him to be raised without a father anyway,” Trigger said, turning the proverbial knife. “Look what it did to you.”
Aaron saw the pain cross Charlotte’s face, and he wanted to hurt Trigger for hurting her. He wanted to make the man suffer as he was making her suffer.
Didn’t she realize that Aaron had a plan? Didn’t she trust him?
No. She wouldn’t tell him where Josie was. She wouldn’t even tell him where Princess Gabriella was. He doubted she had given Trigger the real location. Maybe that was the reason for the pained look on her face.
Guilt.
She thought she had sealed his death warrant.
Aaron tried to catch her attention, tried, with his gaze, to convince her not to worry. But then he did have a gun pressed to his head. And the U.S. Marshal’s real nickname wasn’t just Trigger. But Happy…
He was laughing yet, still amused by his sick joke. He shoved the barrel harder into Aaron’s skin. “Start the car, damn it!”
He obliged, turning the key and shifting it from Park to Drive.
“And no crazy stunt driving like the other night,” Trigger warned, pressing a hand over the bump on his forehead.
“That wasn’t me,” Aaron assured him. “That was my friend. Whit.”
Trigger’s brow furrowed. “The guy who got shot at the administrator’s office?”
Aaron nodded, knocking the barrel a little loose.
“I’m glad the son of a bitch got shot then.”
Aaron pressed on the accelerator, easing the car away from where Charlotte stood, staring helplessly after them.
“She really loves you,” Trigger remarked. “Didn’t think the ice princess had it in her. But she gave up the witness location.”
“How do you know it’s the real one?” he asked again, wanting the guy to be doubtful and nervous.
“You better hope it is,” Trigger threatened, “or you’ll be paying the price for her lies.”
“Maybe you’ll be paying the price,” Aaron remarked. “It could still be a trap. That place is three hours away—gives her three hours to have authorities in place to grab you.”
“We’re not going there,” Trigger said, fishing a phone out of his pocket. “All I needed was to get the address. I don’t need to go there.”
Aaron glanced into the rearview mirror where Charlotte’s figure was getting smaller and smaller. She stood there when she needed to be getting on the phone, needed to be getting Josie to safety.
Unless she’d done as Aaron had suspected, given Trigger a false address.
“So this person who must be paying you a pretty penny, he or she won’t be upset if you send them into a trap?”
“What?”
“Like I said, you really don’t think Charlotte Green gave up the actual location of a witness…especially one she considers a friend?”
Trigger glanced back, too—just distracted enough that he gave Aaron a chance to reach for the gun. But they barely grappled with it before a shot rang out—shattering the windshield.
And ending a life…
Chapter Fifteen
The gunshot shattered the eerie silence that had fallen once the car pulled down the driveway of the rental house. Brake lights flashed on that car, and a horn blared.
A scream tore from Charlotte’s throat. He’d shot Aaron. He’d shot him.
She’d thought Aaron had had a plan. That was the only reason she’d let them pull away. Otherwise she might have risked a shot; she would have tried to hit her old partner. But with his finger already on the trigger, there was no way he wouldn’t have pulled it—even if just by reflex.
But at least then she would have had the satisfaction of taking out the Marshal herself. A satisfaction she still intended to have.
Tears streaming down her face like rain off a rock, she ran down the driveway—heading toward the stopped car. She bypassed the driver’s side. She couldn’t see Aaron—like she’d seen those other shooting victims. Instead she headed toward the passenger’s side, jerked open the door and pointed her gun inside. Her finger trembled as she moved to squeeze the trigger.
“You can’t kill him twice,” a male voice remarked. The man sprawled in the backseat.
And Trigger slumped over the dash, a bullet in his head and his blood sprayed across the shattered windshield.
“Aaron!” she screamed his name, trying to peer around the other man to the driver’s side. But it was empty—no one sitting behind the wheel.
Then warm hands closed over her shoulders, twirling her toward him—pulling her tight against a strong chest. “Shh…” a deep voice murmured into her ear.
She shivered and trembled in reaction to the horror she had just endured over thinking him dead. “You’re alive!”
“I’m fine,” he assured her.
But blood had spattered the side of his face when Whit had killed Trigger. Seeing it on his face had her stomach lurching with fear over what could have happened, over how that blood could have been his.
She pulled back and swung her palm at him, striking his shoulder hard enough to propel him back a couple of steps. “You’re an idiot! How could you do that? How could you risk your life that way?”
“We had a plan,” Whit said. His face twisted into a grimace of pain as he crawled from the backseat and joined them on the driveway.
“What kind of plan?” she asked, anger eclipsing her earlier relief. “A suicide pact?”
Whit pointed toward the front seat. “Only one who wound up dead was the bad guy.”
She stared hard at the king’s blond bodyguard. Even though she had worked with him to stage Josie’s murder, she hadn’t trusted him. Maybe because he’d agreed to keep a secret from a man he’d claimed was his best friend.
“I’m really not a bad guy,” he said.
She threw her arms around him, hugging him tight. He grunted with pain.
And Aaron protested, “Why are you hugging him? I’m the one who risked my life.”
“You’re not helping your cause with that,” Whit said, as he awkwardly patted Charlotte’s back. “I think that could be why she’s pissed at you.”
“Well, I’m not exactly thrilled with her, either,” Aaron admitted.
“Lovers’ spat?” Whit teased.
“She doesn’t just know where Josie is,” Aaron said. “She knows where Princess Gabriella is too.”
Whit’s hands clenched on Charlotte’s shoulders, pulling her back. “You know? Have you known all along?”
She uttered a shaky sigh and stepped back—away from both angry men. “Just since my memory returned.”
“Since then?” Whit seemed more appalled than Aaron had been.
Aaron had just seemed betrayed. It would be a miracle if he ever trusted her again. And now that he knew where Josie was…
She expected him to leave soon. She glanced inside the car again. “We need to call the police.”
“And probably Stanley Jessup’s lawyer,” Aaron added. “To help us explain everything that’s happened and how a U.S. Marshal wound up dead.”
“I had to shoot him,” Whit said, “or he was going to kill you.”
That feeling of panic and loss struck Charlotte again. She had nearly lost him. Not that she still wasn’t going to lose him. He would be a part of his child’s life. But he probably wouldn’t be a part of hers.
And that was fine. She had never envisioned for herself the fairy-tale, happily-ever-after ending.
“You saved my life,” Aaron said, and patted his friend’s shoulder in appreciation.
Whit groaned in pain. “Damn it! Stop doing that!”
“I’ll leave the two of you alone,” Charlotte said, “to bond again.” But she didn’t make it two steps before Whit stopped her, with his hand on her arm.
“You’re going to tell me where Gabby is.”
She shook her head. “I haven’t talked to her in six months. I need to make certain
she still is where I sent her. And I have to find out if she’s ready to see anyone yet.”
“It’s been six months,” Whit reiterated. “Why would she need more time before she would want to see anyone?”
“She felt betrayed,” Charlotte reminded him. “She’s hurt and she’s scared. And it may take more than six months for her to get over it.” Because she suspected it would take more than six months for Aaron to get over her betraying him.
“I’ll call her,” she offered. Actually now that the threat against Gabriella was gone, Charlotte couldn’t wait to see her sister again. They had so much to talk about—like the fact that Gabby was going to be an aunt.
Hell, she didn’t even know that Charlotte was her sister. The king had forbidden her to tell the younger woman the truth. He hadn’t thought Gabby was strong enough to handle that, but he’d had no problem passing her from potential bridegroom to potential bridegroom.
Charlotte should have ignored his threat to fire her if she told the truth. Because, by keeping that secret, she had betrayed the princess just as everyone else had. Charlotte was done keeping secrets; it was time for her to be honest with her sister. It was too late for her to be honest with Aaron.
As she headed toward the house, she felt both men watching her. With resentment…
And her heart ached with loss. Aaron was alive, but he would never be hers.
*
“GOD, THAT WOMAN is infuriating!” Whit exclaimed, staring after Charlotte.
“Yes, she is,” Aaron agreed wholeheartedly, as he rubbed the blood off his face.
Whit slapped him on the shoulder now. “You’re a lucky man.”
“What?” His friend must have lost more blood that he’d thought. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Whit assured him, “I’m just a little jealous. Okay, a lot jealous.”
He studied his friend’s face. Dawn was approaching, lightening the dark sky, so that he could see more clearly now. Apparently more clearly than Whit could see. “You’re not making any sense.”
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