What time was it? Little light entered the room she was held in, but that didn’t mean much. Had she been missing long? Hours? Days? Shane would be frantic by now, and mad as hell that she’d gone down that side road.
She closed her eyes again as emotion overtook her. She’d been so stupid! Why the hell had she done it? The bastard had planted a trap for her on a country road the first time, and yet all she’d needed was an orange vest and an official-looking sign, and she’d turned down one again. Willingly.
Who had that been? Given the only other car on the road had been Scranton’s, blocking any access, Charlie highly doubted the men she’d encountered had been a real road crew. But then why hadn’t someone questioned them, asked them what they were doing? They would have been set up well before she came along.
Perhaps all most people needed were orange vests and an official-looking sign.
She was never taking anything for granted again.
Not even Shane.
God, if she ever saw him again, she was wrapping him up in her arms and refusing to let go. Perhaps forever. She’d taken him for granted for too fucking long. He’d been her friend, her partner, and she’d never doubted for one minute that he’d always be there. Looking back now, the reasons why she hadn’t let herself get involved with him seemed completely ludicrous. Idiotic.
Fuck, her arms ached.
She tried to pull her hands down to her side, to rest them, but they didn’t budge. She moved her head backward, and after the world stopped tilting dangerously, she saw the handcuffs. She was shackled to a thick chain dangling from the ceiling. Hang on. Was that a ceiling? It looked more like corrugated metal, with a small hatch and a fan turning swiftly, sucking air. Shit, was she underground?
She tugged on the chain. It was pulled taut with her weight, with just enough slack that she could balance on the balls of her feet. One little twist, one attempt to move, and she’d fall sideways. Given the way her elbow throbbed, she was worried it might dislocate if enough pressure was put on the joint.
Charlie nearly snorted at the memory. Elaine Monahan. God, that seemed like a million years ago. “Was it you?”
Scranton looked up at her in surprise. His gaze had been roaming over her body hungrily, but now it snapped to hers.
“Oh, Sweetheart, it was all me.”
Charlie forgot the strain on her hands and stared at him. What was all him? Scranton sat back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head. He seemed at ease, totally relaxed. Charlie forced her eyes to stay open. Damn, the buzzing in her ears was back. “Elaine? I already figured out you got me here intentionally.”
“And the missing drugs, Charlotte. The arson fires, your chief’s house, my surprises for you and your precious Shane. The woman with the little boy—she was especially sweet. I had fun with you before it finally all had to end. But you’re missing the best part.”
Charlie rocked back, ignoring the pressure it placed on her back and arms. The look on Scranton’s face made her want to move faster, to scramble across the room and hide. God, the man was enjoying this. He was savoring it. Seeing her chained and hopeless, strung up before him. Fucking hell. It was turning him on. At the sight of the bulge forming in Scranton’s worn and dirty jeans, saliva flooded her mouth and Charlie fought to keep her stomach contents down.
“What part?” Her voice was rough and scratchy; her throat burning as bile scorched her esophagus. She swallowed compulsively. If she puked in her current position, it was likely she’d choke, and Scranton wasn’t exactly her best bet for staying alive.
She frowned. Why was she still alive? Whatever it was, he’d obviously planned a big finish. Why else would he drag her halfway through the forest to a special fortress he seemed to have set up, all ready and waiting?
A bullet through her brain would have had the same effect. She wouldn’t have even had time to duck.
But maybe that was the point. It all made sense. He enjoyed it more when he took his time. That’s why he’d toyed with her a decade ago, circled her in the woods. That little bit of knowledge made her fear lessen, just enough.
“What’s the best part, Darryl? The part where you kill me?”
“Oh, that will be delicious, but no. The best part was watching your face crumble when you learned Cody Severs was dead.”
Sweat beaded on her already-damp forehead, trickling down and mingling with the dried blood. It tasted bitter as it hit her chapped lips, making her stomach roll again. Her fingers were numb now, and her arms strangely tingly. Shock, cold, blood loss? It could be one or all of the above, but Charlie couldn’t focus on any of them. “Cody?”
Scranton’s face split in a grin, showing perfect, straight, white teeth. Strange, she would have thought they’d be crooked, yellowed. His perfect visage didn’t seem to match the demon lurking inside his soul. Though, she supposed, that was exactly why he’d managed to take so many lives. “I was watching, you know, when the news came in. I knew it would be you who got the call. I waited until the perfect moment, and then I stood behind him and put a bullet through his brain.”
The world dropped out from beneath her feet. “Cody didn’t kill himself?”
“Not at all. He put up quite the fuss, if you must know. Just like I expect you will. It won’t matter, though, you know.” His face turned dark. “You owe me, Princess. Time to pay up.”
Scranton shoved the chair backward. It fell to the ground with a loud thump. He stepped forward, the knife in his hand.
29
Shane
“Take me there now, or I swear I’ll run there myself.” Shane glared at Jesse, shoving the man’s hand off his shoulder as he attempted to hold Shane in place.
He was halfway back to the road before Jesse’s voice called out. “Fine! But you stay in the damn car until the hostage-rescue guys clear the scene.”
“Fuck that,” Shane muttered under his breath. He’d behave for as long as it took for Jesse to get him to the cottage gate, and then all bets were off. If Shane so much as heard a scream, or fuck it, even saw a light on, then he was going to get his girl.
There shouldn’t be anyone at the farmhouse. Abandoned for years, or so the city hall records said. They’d also said the owner of the cottage and land was a man by the name of Brian Miller. Nothing remarkable about the name, nothing memorable, either. Shane had never even heard of the old guy. Both the locals and the feds had knocked on the doors of houses surrounding the area, had asked the residents if they’d seen Charlie or heard anything suspicious. The answer had always been no. But no one had been particularly interested in the abandoned farmhouse. The farmhouse that had been empty for as long as any of them could remember.
Until Jesse had run a search on the federal database and made the connection. Brian Miller was dead. He’d also been Darryl Scranton’s great-uncle.
A hard perimeter had been set up, circling two miles around the land. Everything had looked dark, but they weren’t taking any chances. He was grateful for that. In the distance, Shane could hear the quiet whop-whop-whop of helicopter blades. It was a gift from the HRT—the FBI hostage-rescue team—and equipped with a thermal-imaging camera. It had arrived earlier, along with a bunch of agents who looked more like special ops members than FBI, all ready to storm the farmhouse once they’d established Scranton was holding Charlie inside.
If only they’d fucking get on with it.
The long drone of the helicopter was driving him insane. There was little other noise. The few houses close enough to the house to potentially be at risk were already evacuated. Occasionally, he heard the whine of a tracking dog, the crack of a branch, or the low hum of an idling car, and now the crunch the wheels of Jesse’s car made on the gravel beneath Shane’s feet. Beyond that, there was nothing.
When they pulled up outside the perimeter, there was even less.
“Establishing visual contact now, sir,” an agent said to Jesse as they exited the car. Jesse worked more cases with Scott now than he did with the FBI, but he hadn’t y
et formally handed in his badge, a fact Shane was going to be eternally grateful for. The foot search had been called off when they’d lost daylight, and now the man sitting across from him in a government-issued sedan was the only link he had to Charlie. Scott’s commander had ceded control of the op to the feds once the HRT had been mobilized. He’d sat in Scott’s car, Mason never leaving his side, listening in on the radio, but the elite team used a different frequency, and Shane had been cut off from any news for hours.
He peered through the darkness ahead. The internal lights in the car were off, but if he looked carefully enough, he could see the occasional dim light bobbing and weaving up ahead as operators made their way around the house. Long grasses grew up around fence poles, enough to partially hide anyone approaching. He prayed it would be enough.
The gate itself that they sat behind was warped, drooping on its rusted hinges, cyclone wire attempting to fill the gaps in a fence that had been standing too long. The house up ahead couldn’t be in much better condition. Shane strained his memory, but he couldn’t remember ever coming to a call out here, or even hearing of someone named Brian Miller. The house had likely been abandoned for at least a decade. How well could it survive an all-out assault? How well could any occupants?
Jesse didn’t say a word as the junior agent retreated, but simply leaned forward and switched the radio to a different frequency. It crackled to life.
“—light. I repeat, we have a green light.”
Another voice staticked over the top. “Victor 4-1, do you have eyes on the hostage?”
“Affirmative,” a third voice said. “Hostage is alive.”
Shane jolted in his seat and swung the car door open. A muffled “fuck” sounded behind him, followed by the quick retort of Jesse’s door slamming shut. Shane didn’t care. Wind swirled around him, chilling his skin. The whole area felt damp, the ground sinking beneath his feet as he walked and then jogged toward the house. A hand fell on his shoulder, then around his waist, and he fell to the ground as Jesse tackled him.
“For fuck’s sake, we’ll get her out! If you get yourself killed, Charlie will have my balls.”
Shane tried to smile, tried to feel any relief at all from the knowledge she was alive, but all his body was interested in was getting to her as soon as possible. All his mind would process was being there when she was freed. Holding her again and never letting go.
He stopped struggling, and the pressure on his back released. He stood and took one more step. Then the ground shook beneath his feet and the sounds of gunfire filled his ears. A scream broke through the suddenly chaotic air, shattering any reserve he had.
Shane turned and ran.
30
Charlie
“Surprise!” Charlie jumped at the sound, nearly losing her footing and jerking backward. Strong arms steadied her and then wrapped around her waist, pulling her against a hard body. Charlie grinned. She knew exactly who was behind her. She’d enjoyed every inch of hardness Shane had to offer that morning, before he’d had the impromptu idea to visit the firehouse.
Impromptu her ass.
Connor and Matt stood at the front, sporting ridiculous party hats. Behind them stood the rest of the squad. Even Chief Stone smiled at her from the back of the room. It figured that Matt’s bellow had been the loudest, nearly landing her on her butt. She looked past them to the balloons hanging from the ceiling, a banner reading “Congratulations!” hanging from the back wall. Tears peppered her eyes and she swiped them away, turning her face into Shane’s chest when blush covered her cheeks.
“Hey now,” he said, lifting her face to his with a finger under her chin. “What’s up?” His eyes filled with concern. “Is it too much? We can go home.” His hand tightened around hers. “I shouldn’t have told the guys we were coming. You need a break after today.”
Charlie smiled again and held her hand up against his mouth to shut him up. No, this was exactly what she needed today. She was still on medical leave, the doctor insisting on a full two weeks, at least. The world no longer spun, but she still got regular headaches. It wasn’t so bad, though, at least after she’d convinced Shane it was in his best interests to stop treating her like she was about to fall apart. When she’d emerged from what turned out to be an old bomb shelter on an abandoned property, Shane had practically ripped her from the arms of the HRT member who had carried her up the bunker’s ladder.
First, he’d almost suffocated her all over again with a hug so tight it felt like he was squeezing the air out of her lungs. Just as quickly, he’d sworn and then released her, only to lay his jacket down on the muddy ground and gently push her down on top of it. His face had been tender, but he’d meant business. Even without any of their equipment, he’d had her examined and triaged before any of their colleagues could even arrive. He hadn’t let go of her hand, though, even through the examination, or through the transport to the hospital. She’d been surprised the ER doc had managed to convince him to separate from her, but even then, he still hadn’t left the room.
Usually, friends and family members who came in with patients were quickly ushered out to the waiting room. No one even tried with Shane. Charlie was glad. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flash of bright light. That’s all there had been before the noise had begun, so loud that she hadn’t heard her own heartbeat. She felt it, though, beating out a retort in her chest that pulsed as rapidly as the gunfire echoing around her.
When the world fell quiet and she’d opened her eyes, at first there had been nothing to see. Her hands had fallen slack by her side, freed at some point by persons unknown. Her knees had given way after that, right when she’d spotted Darryl Scranton lying on the floor with a neat hole drilled through his forehead.
Funny how something so small could take down a monster who had haunted her dreams for a decade.
Then the world had tipped upside down again as she was slung over the shoulder of the HRT man, and before she knew it, she was in the arms of someone who she hoped would fill her dreams for many years to come. A man who loved her and would take care of her.
She was still capable of making her own cup of coffee, though, for God’s sake. It had taken exactly twenty-four hours for things between them to return to normal. Charlie needed normal. Normal was incredible. Waking up next to Shane the next day was even better. She could do that for the rest of her life.
The man in question took her hand, guiding her to a seat on the main couch, and then turned to head toward the kitchen, grabbing a mug. She smiled. When he wasn’t driving her crazy with overprotectiveness, Shane seemed to know exactly what she needed. Just today, she’d let him get her coffee.
It had been a hell of a day. Nothing like the day she was slung over the shoulder of the FBI and delivered to Shane in a muddy field. She’d be glad if she never had to think or speak of it again. She’d said it all today, at a deposition. The FBI had put the dots together that day, when they’d found Scranton’s stash of trophies. Some of the bodies might never be found, but at least those families had closure. She’d helped give them that, and in the process, found some herself. Lying in Shane’s warm embrace, falling asleep after they’d come together, him moving inside her until they both found ecstasy, Charlie’s mind was at peace. The nightmares no longer came.
The room suddenly fell silent and she looked up. Just what the hell were they up to? She looked around the room for Jeremy, but he was standing right where he’d been for the last several minutes. As much as she loved her new normal, she wasn’t quite ready for any epic pranks. Though she was sure they were coming, now that her relationship with Shane was out in the open. There was no way the guys were going to let that pass uncelebrated. She frowned. So then why the hell hadn’t anyone said a damn thing when they’d arrived today? Shane had wrapped her in his arms and kissed the living daylights out of her in front of them all, and not one remark. She arched an eyebrow at Jeremy, who looked the picture of innocence. He said nothing, and her attention was diverted
by Shane arriving with her coffee.
No, Shane standing in front of her without a coffee mug in his hands. They were wrapped around something else. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on, but all that came out was a gasp when Shane dropped to one knee. Right in front of the ragged old paisley print firehouse couch.
“Charlie. I’ve known you for years, but I feel like we’ve finally found each other now.” A small grin crossed his face. Charlie tried to smile back, but her mouth was still hanging open in shock. “You are my partner in all things, and you do an amazing job—both at work and at other things.” Someone snickered behind him, but he kept going. “I promise I’ll let you make your own coffee every day for the rest of your life. You are my friend, my partner, my lover, my everything. Would you do me the absolute honor of becoming my wife?”
She blushed again, but she didn’t care. Her grin was wide enough to hide it. A warmth raced through her body as her heart pounded. It didn’t matter. She had only one thing she had to say. “Yes.”
Somewhere in the background, she heard cheers, along with a few whistles, but all Charlie saw was Shane’s face as he slipped the ring on her finger, and all she felt was his lips as they met hers. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him, his tongue thrusting between her lips. She melted into his embrace, and Shane held her firmly. The nightmares of her past were gone. This right here was all she needed. Shane was hers—to have and to hold, and to kiss the living fuck out of.
So she did.
Also by Jamie Garrett
Marked By Desire - Romantic Suspense Series
Books 1 - 5
Southern Heat
From the Ashes
Fighting the Flames
Burning the Past
Trial by Fire
Line of Fire
Line of Fire (Southern Heat Book 5) Page 17
