by Angi Morgan
“I was trying to get Cord to...”
“To what?”
“To fight.”
“For heaven’s sake, why?”
“I was upset after meeting your parents. I know there’s no reason I should be. I just needed to knock off some steam and Cord was there. Tonight’s been pretty overwhelming.”
“If you wanted a bar fight, then why did you follow me?” she asked as she walked to the feed and scooped more into her hand. It had been a little overwhelming for them both.
“I don’t want you to be upset.”
She fed the mare, then pivoted to face him. “I have never in my life been less upset,” she lied. Did he know? The arch of a single eyebrow spoke volumes. Oh, great. He knew.
“You’re lying. Just like you did the first day when you said you weren’t afraid of the mare I’d brought for you.”
“You can’t prove it and it shouldn’t matter to you. We’ll stick to finding the informant. Your parents have dropped the opportunity of a lifetime into our laps. We should be taking advantage of it instead of worrying about what anyone is thinking. You don’t owe me any explanation.”
“You’re right, like always.”
“Good, then we should get started by asking your parents if there’s someone here they’ve never met before tonight.” She took a step, but he grabbed her shoulders, squaring her with him, nose to nose. God, she loved how tall he was.
“I don’t love Kate.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if you do,” she lied again.
“I think it does.”
“Why?” she whispered, mirroring the direction of his gaze to her mouth.
“Because I love you.”
His firm lips pressed against hers while his hands slid down her arms and around to her back. He pulled her tight against him and she wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers sliding into the slight curl of hair at the back. Their mouths opened for an onslaught of tingling sensations piercing throughout her body.
Tender, hot, sweet, hard and oh-so sexy. She answered his declaration of love without words. He pulled her closer, crushing her breasts against his hard chest. The need to unbutton his dress shirt and slip out of her sweater had never been higher. But she was responsible and kept her hands around his shoulders.
Nick paused, waiting an inch apart from her. She licked her lips whisper-close to his, making him moan. She should be patient, but she didn’t want to be sane. She wanted to be crazy. Throw caution to the wind. Be irresponsible and take exactly what she wanted. She didn’t care that a town full of people were on the other side of that barn door. She couldn’t resist this man and tugged him back to her. His hands slid under her shirt. His work-rough fingertips danced across her bare skin like a butterfly’s wings.
His soft caress, another assault to her senses, turned her legs completely to jelly. Her knees weakened and he pulled back again, arms tight around her, holding her up.
“I think there’s something we’re supposed to be doing.” He bent and kissed the curve of her neck.
“I can’t for my life think what it is.” She could, but she really didn’t want to stop being close to him.
“Something about flushing out the informant and catching a bad guy,” he whispered close to her ear, sending tingly vibrations across her lobe. “Of course, that would be your job, not mine. I sort of feel overanalyzed for a while.”
“You should have waited to talk to me. I work better when I’m not distracted.”
“I found out real quick why men don’t like to see women cry. Never bothered me before our escape last week.” His voice was low and erotic, mixed with softer kisses he dropped under the edge of her sweater. He drew back, his eyes searching hers. “With everything that’s happened to us, to you... I’m sorry I had to ignore your tears in Mexico. I didn’t think I could have paid attention to our surroundings. And then—”
She placed a finger over his lips. “Shh. To be honest, I’ve never cried in front of a guy before. Maybe Danny Bryant in the third grade, but never anyone your age.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Maybe not, but it should make you feel special.” She drew her own circles just under his slightly scruffy jaw. “I don’t know why or how it happened, but I love you, too.”
They kissed again. She’d thought the kiss when they’d been captured had been superspecial, but it didn’t compare.
Nick shoved his fingers through her loose hair. “Pure silk.”
Whatever decisions needed to be made, they would survive.
A knock at the open barn door broke them apart.
“There will be plenty of time for that later, you two,” Juliet said from the doorway. “It’s time for the bonfire. All your friends are standing around getting cold while we wait on you to light it.”
She left them alone again.
Nick gave her another quick kiss and dropped his hands against his jean-covered thighs with a loud pop. “Guess we should get going.”
They passed through the doorway and movement in the field caught her eye. “Do you see that?” She pointed to the dark shadow moving at a fast pace. “Is it a horse?”
“One with a rider. Something’s off. I’m saddling the blacks.” He squeezed her hand, assuring her it was okay. “Can you find Cord and Pete?”
“Sure, but I should— Nick Burke, you wait on the professionals, do you hear me? Do not take off after whoever is out there on your own. Promise?”
“We’re losing time, Beth. Go get the rest of your task force.”
He ran inside the barn as she ran to the bonfire. “Morrison! McCrea!” She drew everyone’s attention, but the two law enforcement officers weren’t there. She finally ran into Alan and gave him instructions. She had to get back to Nick before...
The main barn door flew open and a second later Nick was tearing out across the pasture heading after the man on horseback. She had no idea who it was or if he was armed, but Nick wasn’t.
There were no roads in that direction, nothing but a fence for the cattle.
“Great. Just great.” To follow Nick she’d have to saddle and ride Applewine. But not without her weapon. She ran into the house, pulled her lockbox from under the bed and grabbed two fully loaded magazines.
“I’ll take those.” Bishop stuck a gun barrel between her ribs.
She held the magazines up near her ears. Was there more ammunition for her weapon?
“Now the gun.”
Would there be another weapon? The gun cabinet had rifles. Alan had pistols in his office. Where was the key? She handed over her gun while mentally cursing Bishop.
“We never considered you foolish enough to set foot on US soil, not to mention the ranch. Are you that crazy? What are you doing here? And why tonight?”
He twisted the gun a little harder. “We’re leaving before your fiancé realizes he’s following the wrong person.”
“I’m comfortable where I am. Thanks.” She stayed on her knees at the edge of the bed. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here at the party? It must be something really important considering we had no idea where you’d run off to.”
“Get up.”
“You want to shoot me? Get rid of us? I’m assuming it’s the only reason you’d show up here. So go ahead, but you won’t make it out of here alive. There are a lot of ranchers packing out there.”
Bishop wrapped his hand in her loose hair and yanked upward. Her hands went to her scalp trying to relieve the pain while she followed his instructions getting to her feet.
“What’s your game, Bishop?”
“Hands behind your back.” He yanked harder on her hair. “You might not care if you die, but I’ve got a lot of ammunition to waste on your friends outside. I’d be glad to start with your future in-laws or maybe your own parents.”
Beth had to comply. The plastic from cuffs cut into the flesh around her wrists. They were too tight to allow any movement.
“Seriously
, what are you planning on doing? Why are you here?”
“The only thing I can do. Eliminate your task force. Let’s go. I want to make certain you have a front-row seat.”
The bedroom door was almost shut, he shoved her toward it, and she heard a magazine click into place. He draped her heavy coat around her shoulders, successfully hiding her hands behind her back. If she made a sound, he’d begin shooting people, but there was a slim chance she could get someone’s attention.
“We’re joining everyone else. One word and you know what will happen.”
She left her room, turned left to head to the main part of the house and was nudged back to the right instead. Bishop pushed open the master bedroom and she saw that he hadn’t come alone. Her parents along with Nick’s parents were being held at gunpoint by one of his men.
“There’s no reason to hurt anyone else. I’m cooperating,” she said.
“And now, you know the consequences if you don’t.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nick galloped across his pasture with nothing but a waning moon to guide him. He was chasing after a mysterious horseman without a weapon. The only thing he had with him was his rope.
And if there was one thing a rancher knew how to do, it was to drive a stubborn cow. This cow just happened to be a human whose butt would hurt when it hit the ground. Roping this runaway was faster than catching up to him. Safer, too since he didn’t know if the man had a weapon.
He loosened his rope cinch and built a loop securing it under his arm. Kicking up his horse to a faster gallop he lined up and started to overcome the rider. Just a bit closer and he circled the rope over his head to open it and get the velocity he needed to throw. Then he let the rope fly.
Target acquired, he wrapped the rope around his saddle horn. By the time he’d created a dally, his well-trained horse had thrown on the brakes, sliding to a stop before the other horse hit the end of the rope.
Nick hit the ground before his target flew over the rump of his own horse and landed with a hard thud on the ground. The horse kept running, probably scared straight into the next county. The man’s straw hat flew away as his moans grew louder from the winter-cold ground. Taking advantage of his target’s momentary confusion and change of direction, Nick cautiously approached with no knife, no rifle and only the rope for his defense.
“I can’t say I’m sorry. You were trespassing and you’ll be lucky if the next place that butt lands isn’t in jail.”
He yanked hard on the rope, pulling the slack, keeping it taut and low around the man’s waist, which trapped his arms. He didn’t squirm or try to get free, allowing Nick to get closer. He gave a tug with both hands and the man fell backward. Nick placed his boot on the man’s chest but quickly pulled it back.
“Matt? Matt Long?” This was the informant? The kid couldn’t even shave.
“Please don’t send me to jail, Mr. Burke. Momma said I had to do this or we were all going to get hurt bad.”
While the kid continued to plead for his freedom, Nick lifted the loop over his head and pulled him up by his coat lapels.
“Who’s going to hurt you or your mom?”
“I...um...”
He’d known this kid his entire life. Had watched him at the local rodeos bronco busting. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. That seemed about right, ’cause he’d just started driving around town. His dirtbag of a father had taken off last year sometime after the shooting, leaving the family strapped.
“You want your freedom, kid? You come clean with what you know.”
“I heard her talking to somebody a couple of times. Telling him things. I think it’s the same guy, but I don’t know who he is. Honest, Mr. Burke, honest.” Matt’s body literally shook under Nick’s hold.
“Did she mention when I’d be gone from the ranch?”
“Yes, sir. At least I think she was talkin’ about you.”
Matt’s mother was the informant. Maybe his dad had been before that. The timing fit, since he’d taken off right after everything hit the fan last year.
Nick released him, patting both the kid’s shoulders. “Go get your hat and run home.”
“That mean you won’t press charges, sir?”
Nick ran his hand through his hair, trying to think. “Why?”
“I’d be willing to work—”
“No. Why did they send you out here?”
Dirt popped up behind the kid’s shoulder. Then an unmistakable sound echoed through the cool air.
“Was that a rifle?” Matt asked.
“Let’s get the hell out of here!”
He pulled the kid’s coat again. First running, then yanking him behind him, barely waiting for him to get his leg over the rear end of the horse before shouting, “Haw!” He slapped the reins and the horse jumped forward. Matt’s hands wrapped around him, holding tight.
Beth is at the ranch. With that thought ringing in his head, he kicked the horse’s sides harder.
It was wide-open pasture between them and the barn. To reach safety, they were riding straight into the line of fire.
* * *
THE SHOTS STARTLED everyone in the bedroom, even Bishop jumped. People screamed outside. Beth’s mother—closest to her in the room—darted forward in the confusion and put her arms around Beth’s waist.
They exchanged a quick, concealed look that baffled Beth. Why would— Something was shoved into her hands under her coat.
It was the hard shape of a pocket knife. She could cut through the plastic cuffs when she had an opportunity. Bishop yelled and pushed away her mother, who stumbled back next to her father. Beth secured the knife in her back pocket.
Another shot rang out, this one closer to the house. Outside, there was more screaming, running and shouting with a faint echo of music that still played from the party. Inside, the people she loved watched her for answers. They were silent. No one moved.
Bishop’s phone rang, startling everyone in the room again.
“What do you mean you missed?” he screamed into his cell. “One out of the three is not good enough. I need them all dead.”
Someone was shot. It couldn’t be Nick. He was chasing the mysterious horse and rider. Or could it? Those first shots had sounded like a rifle firing and the last was closer, more like a handgun. No, no, no.
“You bastard! Who’s shot? Is he okay? Did you kill him this time?” Her eyes blurred with tears, but she couldn’t cry. She had to believe Nick was still alive. He’d been shot before. He needed her help. Maybe Pete and Cord were heading to Nick right this minute.
Juliet sat on the bed, twisting her fingers in the corner of her apron. She was worried. Beth would pull herself together because their parents needed her help. They wouldn’t survive if Bishop won. She had to fight Bishop and defeat him.
“Tie them up and then blow up the tank. Do it.” He checked his watch. “You have four minutes.”
“Blow it up? You can’t hurt all these innocent people.” Her mom and dad, Juliet and Alan—they’d all be killed.
“Yes, I can. None of my organization will be bothered by your ineffective task force any longer. Come on.”
“You really are a monster.”
Bishop yanked her hair again, guiding her through the doorway, tugging her to a stop at the entrance to the living room. She heard Kate’s voice shouting instructions and the sound of dishes breaking. Men’s voices she couldn’t distinguish spoke all at once.
“Set him down on the island before he bleeds out.” Andrea, Pete’s girlfriend commanded. “You, dial 9-1-1. Oh, my gosh, he’s too tall. Someone will have to hold his feet.”
Nick was tall. Then again, all three men on the task force would be too tall for Juliet’s kitchen island.
The shouting continued. People ran through the living room, crouching behind furniture. She heard Cord’s voice outside, “Get to cover! If you can, get a ride to town. Fast!”
“Move. Front door,” Bishop told her softly. He kept her close with one ha
nd twisted in her hair and the other twisting her flesh with his handgun into her side once more.
The front door was open. He pulled on the small hairs at the base of her scalp, causing her to draw air through her teeth. He turned her to the left on the porch, facing away from the barn. The Burkes’ friends gave her curious or maybe concerned looks as she headed upstream from those attempting to get to safety.
What was about to explode? Run! she wanted to scream at the people to get them out of there before they became victims of this senseless violence. Cord was nowhere in sight. She didn’t recognize anyone who passed to silently plead for help. Bishop turned closer into her coat, hiding his face.
Some DEA agent you are. She couldn’t stop thinking about her shortcomings or straining to hear voices that would let her know who was bleeding from a gunshot wound in the kitchen. If she’d been a better agent, perhaps this could have been prevented.
Bishop and his men infiltrating the party hadn’t ever occurred to her. She had to stop beating herself up over this, over the shooting in Chicago. Some events couldn’t be foreseen. But they could be dealt with.
An explosion splitting the night left her ears ringing. The house shook beneath her feet. The blast felt like an earthquake, ten times worse than the car blast when they had escaped. Their four minutes were up.
Bishop laughed and pulled her into the multitude of people now running for their cars. He shot his gun into the air, causing even more panic and ear-piercing screams. His men had successfully blown up the propane tank. Everything was on fire east of the house. The flames would spread quickly into the fields unless someone acted fast.
Options for her freedom, and the four captives in the bedroom, were limited if she couldn’t find help. Bishop marched her straight into the barn, shut the main doors and left them in the dark.
A murdering drug dealer stood between her and the only way out. If she made a move, she’d be dead before disarming him. And disarming him with her hands behind her back was too much to expect.
