Slow Burn
Page 13
She told the story of things she had overheard and seen. She had overheard Salvatore order the murder of the surviving friends from the Circle of Seven. Salvatore had told her that he was responsible for the deaths of the two friends who had died, and the attempted murder of a third who barely survived and had spent a year going through extensive recovery.
Christie had witnessed Salvatore murder a man.
Salvatore raped Christie more than once after he had caught her overhearing him giving the order to murder the rest of her friends. After he’d used her, he had been ready to break her neck, but federal agents had ruined that plan.
Finally, after all of the damning testimony from Christie, the AUSA turned to Barth and said, “Your witness, Mr. Groening.”
Barth paused a moment before standing and buttoning his suit jacket. Without looking back at Salvatore, Barth strode to the witness stand.
He shot question after question at Christie, attempting to tear down everything she’d explained to the AUSA. He worked at destroying her character, but there was nothing to destroy.
Christie never varied from her story. She didn’t fall apart like Salvatore had expected her to, should she live to make it to the stand. She didn’t cry, she didn’t get angry, she didn’t look beaten down. She appeared reserved but personable and Salvatore could see the spark of anger in her eyes, even if her expression didn’t show it. He’d known her for so long, and so well, that he recognized what no one else would have in that room. She was pissed.
At times, Barth’s cross-examination tripped her up, but she remained cool and calm, and still her story didn’t change.
When Barth had no more questions for Christie, Judge Berry called a recess for lunch. Closing arguments would be given after the break. Christie was whisked away between U.S. Marshals and all Salvatore saw was her back.
He watched the jurors as they filed out to lunch. They didn’t look at him.
“We’re fucked.” Barth pushed himself up from the table and looked at Salvatore, who also stood. “Good and fucked.”
Salvatore felt almost too stunned to think as they walked out of the courtroom. He paused and grabbed Barth by the upper arm and brought him to a stop. “I want to take the AUSA’s offer and turn state’s evidence against key members in the Jimenez Cartel.” He gripped his attorney’s arm harder. “I want immunity from prosecution. I want to go into the Witness Security Program.”
Barth looked at Salvatore’s hand. Salvatore released Barth as the attorney gave him a hard look. “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said or done.”
“Fuck you.” Salvatore growled. “Now get the fucking AUSA.”
Barth looked disgusted, but didn’t answer. A moment later, Claudia Duplantis walked out of the courtroom.
“We need to talk.” Barth stopped in front of the AUSA. “My client wants to accept your deal.”
“That deal was offered before the testimony.” Duplantis ignored Salvatore and the rage building inside him threatened to explode. He wanted to kill the bitch almost as much as he wanted to kill Christie. The AUSA continued. “However, we can talk and perhaps come up with something. In ten minutes, meet me in the same conference room we used the last time we talked.”
Salvatore and Barth parted from the AUSA who turned to talk with her assistant. Salvatore walked with his attorney down a hallway and then out into the open in the direction of the conference room.
Screaming pain tore through Salvatore’s chest as a gunshot echoed through the building. He clutched his hands to his chest.
With unbelieving horror, he looked down at his pressed white shirt and saw a blood stain spreading rapidly across it. Blood coated his hands.
How many times had he seen the same thing when he’d shot a man?
Salvatore was hit with an overwhelming desire to cry. He was going to die. Instead of Christie, he was the one the cartel was finishing off because she had lived and they’d known that he would give up anyone in the cartel if it meant protecting himself.
Vaguely, as he slumped to the floor, he heard one shout after another. “Salvatore Reyes has been shot,” from one person. From another, “Call an ambulance.” A third said, “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.” Someone added, “He’s wounded too badly.” The last voice he heard said, “There’s no saving this sonofabitch.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In disbelief, Christie stared at the test stick. It was like a dream, almost as though it couldn’t be real. But there it was.
A plus sign. A dark pink plus sign.
She was pregnant.
A wave of warmth washed over her and she could almost feel life starting to grow inside her.
“I’m pregnant.” She said the words aloud and found herself almost shouting it in the small bathroom as she said it again. “I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby!”
Her thoughts focused on Trace and her body tingled, giddy with excitement. Today was their wedding day and she had the best present ever to give to her soon-to-be husband.
She wanted to run out of the church’s back room, find Trace and tell him now. It didn’t matter that she was wearing only her bra and the long slip that she’d have on beneath her wedding dress. Well, it almost didn’t matter. They were in a church, after all.
A knock came at the door. “Christie, is everything all right?” Natasha’s voice. “You’re yelling.
“In a church,” Belle added.
Christie was still holding the stick when she yanked open the door. She flung her arms around her Matron of Honor, Belle, and her bridesmaid, Natasha, in a trio hug.
“What’s this all about?” Belle laughed and Natasha giggled, as they pulled apart.
Christie raised the pregnancy test stick.
“Oh, my God.” Belle wrapped her arms around Christie. “You’re going to be a mommy!”
Natasha joined in on the group hug again. “I’m going to be an aunt. Well, more like a second cousin once removed, but he—or she—can call me Aunty.”
“I’m a month late.” Tears formed at the corners of Christie’s eyes, and when she drew back she grabbed a tissue from a box on a side table and carefully dabbed it to avoid smudging her wedding make-up. “I’d hoped, but all those years I was told repeatedly that I couldn’t have children. I can’t believe it.”
“Trace is such a hunk of a man.” Natasha grinned, mischief in her eyes. “He probably has super sperm.”
Belle and Christie laughed. “That’s my man.” Christie didn’t think she could possibly ever be happier than she was today—she was marrying the man she loved and she’d just found out they were having a baby. “Don’t say a word until after I tell Trace.”
Natasha pantomimed zipping her lips and tossing the key.
Belle grinned. “I can’t wait until he hears the news. He’s going to be floored.”
Natasha bounced up and down on her toes, her dark hair swinging around the bare shoulders of her purple bridesmaid dress. “You see how he plays with Shane. Trace is going to be an awesome dad.”
“No doubt about it.” Christie nodded, unable to stop smiling. Belle and Dylan’s baby was over a year old now and Trace was adorably smitten with the little guy.
Belle tilted her head, smiling. “What made you decide to do the test here at the church, before the wedding?”
Christie shook her head. “I just had this strange feeling. Like it would be good luck to do it before the ceremony.”
“Perfect timing.” Natasha pointed to the pregnancy test stick. “Keeping that for a scrapbook?”
“Maybe I should carry it with my bouquet.” Christie grinned. But she found a nearby wastebasket, and tossed the stick in it.
“I know you’re crazy happy out of your mind, but let’s get you dressed before you forget and head down that aisle in your silky underthings.” Belle’s purple dress, similar to Natasha’s bridesmaid dress, swirled around her calves as she moved. She headed to the corner where the beaded white wedding dress hung. “W
e don’t want you walking down the aisle in your slip.”
The door opened and in bustled Christie’s grandmother, Madelyn, whose graying hair was swept up in a poufy style. Madelyn, a stocky woman with a motherly yet busybody air about her, had arrived with Harry, Christie’s grandfather, on a flight from Florida just yesterday.
Christie was glad she’d thrown away the test stick. Madelyn Simpson was not known for being able to keep her mouth shut about anything. If she had seen the plus sign, she would have told every guest, who then would have known before Christie had a chance to tell Trace herself.
“You’re not even dressed.” Madelyn swept up the veil as Belle reached Christie with the dress. “The church is standing room only. They’re going to start the wedding march just as soon as you’re ready.”
“This won’t take long.” Christie smiled at her grandmother, who normally drove her a little crazy. Today nothing could dampen Christie’s mood for so many reasons. “My hair and make-up are done, so all I need are the dress and the veil.”
Natasha and Belle helped Christie carefully pull the strapless dress with the beaded bodice over her head so that her hair and make-up wouldn’t be mussed.
When the dress was zipped and the short train fluffed out, Madelyn held up a piece of jewelry. “Don’t forget your great-grandmother’s diamond bracelet for something old.”
As Madelyn put the bracelet on Christie’s wrist, Belle picked up a heart-shaped pendant on a gold chain and clasped it around Christie’s neck. “Of course the diamond necklace Trace gave you on your birthday for something new.”
Madelyn arranged the veil that had a crystal-studded tiara at the top. “The wedding veil is something borrowed.”
“And the garter for something blue.” Natasha motioned for Christie to extend her leg.
Christie pulled up her dress and slip on one side, revealing her stocking-covered leg. She still hadn’t put on her shoes. She raised her foot and Natasha slid the elastic garter that was made of bunched blue satin, to Christie’s mid-thigh. Hidden above that, Christie wore a sexy garter belt set, the straps holding up her white stockings. Trace was going to love the garters and tiny matching panties that were meant only for him to see.
When the three women were finished primping and preparing Christie, Madelyn slipped out to check on things and let the organist know that Christie was ready.
Natasha handed Christie the wildflower cascade bridal bouquet with silk Shasta daisies, pink mini lilies, blue lupine, lavender accents, and goldenrod. Natasha and Belle each carried similar but smaller bouquets.
Madelyn opened the door and Natasha and Belle went ahead of them. A few moments later, the first strains of the wedding march began. Christie’s belly did a major flip-flop. Shaking, Christie stepped through the doorway and met up with her grandfather, who held out the crook of his arm. She took it and they started down the aisle.
Trace couldn’t breathe as Christie stepped out of the darker recesses of the back of the church and started to proceed down the aisle with her grandfather.
He almost forgot his two best men, Brooks and Dylan, standing beside him. They’d been giving him a hard time for being the first of their friends to get married after accidentally catching the bouquet at Dylan’s wedding. The razzing faded to nothing as Christie walked toward him.
He did forget the reverend’s name in that moment. He almost forgot his own name.
Christie was a beautiful woman to begin with, but right now she positively glowed. Her smile was brilliant and she looked only at him as she came closer and closer. She couldn’t reach him soon enough, couldn’t become his wife fast enough.
His throat grew dry and he wondered if he’d be able to say his vows, much less remember them.
When her grandfather released her to give her away, he said something, but Trace’s ears were buzzing. He had eyes only for Christie. She clung to her bridal bouquet, which trembled in her hands. He wanted to reach for her, comfort her, hold her in his arms, something that would calm his own nerves.
He had no second thoughts. He’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with this woman for what seemed like forever. Maybe since the first time he’d met her.
Christie handed her bouquet to Belle to hold. They stood at the altar and faced each other, Christie’s fingers in Trace’s hands, in front of Reverend Jones.
Trace thought he’d get lost in Christie’s blue eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch the red strands of hair that curved against her cheek, skim his fingertips along her cheekbone, and slide his fingers into her hair. He wanted to draw her into a kiss, take her away from the church to a private hideaway, and make love to her for hours.
“Trace?” Her sweet lips formed his name and her soft voice brought him back to reality. A slow heat traveled through his body and he hoped to hell he wasn’t blushing.
She smiled and then nothing else mattered.
The moments seemed to crawl by while at the same time passing in a blur. He wasn’t even sure he’d said the vows he’d memorized correctly. But he did remember her smile, the glitter of tears in her eyes as he told her how much he loved her.
Before he knew it, he was sliding the ring on her finger and she slid a ring on his. The ring felt good, like a promise that became reality as the reverend told him he could kiss his new wife.
The kiss was long and filled with a meaning that only the two of them understood. When they broke the kiss to the sound of applause, he started to lead her away from the altar.
She held his hands, drawing him back to her so that they were still facing each other. “There’s something I have to tell you, husband. A wedding gift I want to give you now.” Her smile was beyond glowing.
“Go on.” He wasn’t sure if he should be worried or excited.
“You are going to be a daddy.” She lit up even more as she spoke, her smile broadening. “In about eight months.”
Trace understood then what it meant to have one’s knees go weak. He’d always thought it as something dramatic used in books. But for one moment he thought he was going to drop to his knees on the platform in front of the altar.
“We’re pregnant?” The words barely made it out through his lips. “We’re going to have a baby?”
She squeezed his hands. “Yes.”
He grabbed her by the waist and whirled her around in a circle and knew his grin spread ear to ear. She giggled as he spun her and then set her on her feet. She clung to his arms as if to steady herself.
Trace placed his hand on her belly, where soon a baby bump would start to appear. He turned and looked at everyone in the church. “We’re having a baby!”
The applause was explosive, even louder now than it had been after their first kiss as husband and wife.
As they ran down the aisle, guests beamed or shouted congratulations. He saw that Christie’s grandmother was crying, as were several other women.
They made it out into the June sunshine, only to have guests follow them and toss birdseed at them in lieu of rice. He swept Christie up into his arms. She let out a happy squeal of surprise and wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him. Her laugh was as joyous as his heart felt as they entered a future bright with everything he’d ever wanted since falling in love with the woman of his dreams.
He jogged down the church’s stairs to his waiting SUV, a “Just Married” sign on the back with tin cans tied to the trailer hitch with twine. Obviously his friends had been at work since he’d gone into the church.
Christie giggled as he deposited her in the passenger seat, closed the door, then ran to his side of the SUV. He closed the door as he was pelted with more birdseed.
He started the vehicle and took her hand in his. He ignored the crowd of onlookers as he held Christie’s hand.
“I love you, Christie.” He kissed her tenderly before drawing back. “You are my everything.”
“God, I love you, Trace.” She squeezed his hand. “I can’t imagine ever being happier in my life.”
“We’ll make more memories.” He cupped her face with his hand. “Lots more memories just as special as this one. I promise.”
She stroked his cheek. “Yes. Many, many more.”
Trace put the SUV into gear, took Christie’s hand again, and they drove to a future filled with each other. Filled with love.
ALSO BY CHEYENNE MCCRAY
~Romantic Suspense~
"Lawmen" series
Hidden Prey
No Mercy
Slow Burn
“Riding Tall” Series
Branded For You
Roping Your Heart
Fencing You In
Tying You Down
Playing With You
Crazy For You
Hot For You
Made For You
Held By You
Belong To You
“Rough and Ready” Series
Silk and Spurs
Lace and Lassos
Champagne and Chaps
Satin and Saddles
Roses and Rodeo
Lingerie and Lariats
Lipstick and Leather
~Paranormal~
Dark Seduction
Night’s Captive
Future Knight
CHEYENNE WRITING AS JAYMIE HOLLAND
“Tattoos and Leather” ménage
Inked
Branded
Marked
Stranded
“Hearts in Chains” BDSM Series
Wounded
“The Auction” Series
Sold
Bought
Claimed (with bonus novella Taken)
“Taboo” Series
Wicked Nights: three Erotic Tales
Taboo Desires: three Tales of Lust and Passion
Playing Rough: three Stories of Sensual Submission
Paranormal
The Touch
EXCERPT…HIDDEN PREY
“Lawmen” series