U.S. Marshals: Prey (U.S. Marshals Book 3)

by Laura Marie Altom

  If he were one of his brothers, he could be calm. Overlook what to her had probably been a case of trying not to make him worry. But dammit, he couldn’t help the fact that he had a short fuse any more than he could help that now that he was marrying Bug, he existed in a state of twenty-four seven worry for her safety.

  Slamming open the bathroom door, he pulled back the flimsy white vinyl curtain and stepped in, jeans and all.

  “Adam!” Bug shrieked.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “W-what are you doing? You’re still dressed.”

  “Why did you lie?”

  “I—I didn’t.”

  Lord, she was beautiful, hands over her head, rinsing shampoo from her hair, suds cascading over full breasts and her taut belly.

  “Dammit, Bug.” Despite her glory, he couldn’t get past her having chosen to build the foundation of their marriage on a bald-faced lie. “I know what went down this afternoon with Mrs. Morningside. I know the rock came damned close to hitting your head, and that you, always being closest to the woman, are in the eye of the storm should our guy decide to give up rocks in favor of bullets.”

  She crossed her arms, covering her breasts, but not the steely edged will in her gaze. “For your information, in not telling you, I was trying to protect you. And I didn’t lie. Just omitted select information.”

  “You told me your afternoon was boring.”

  “Okay, so maybe I told you a little lie, but, Adam, it was for your own good. Look how you reacted when we were first assigned to this case. You went nuts—asking Franks to switch me over to a nice, safe, dull desk job. I went through the same training as you, and I scored way higher than you in marksmanship, so—”

  “Not way higher,” he argued.

  “You’re crazy.” She raised her hands only to slap them against her thighs. “And I just signed up for a lifetime of this?”

  “Babe, you claimed to love me. And this is me at my finest. Sorry, but I care if you get hurt.”

  “You think I don’t? You think I want to get myself shot and miss a wedding I’ve looked forward to starring in for what feels like my whole life?”

  “That’s just it.” His voice thundered. “I don’t know what to think.” Softening, he pulled her hard against him, crushing her in a hug. “I love you. I’ve been a fool for not seeing it sooner. But I love you, I love—”

  “Stop,” she said, fingers over his mouth, then lips. “I love you, too. I’m sorry for lying, I just—”

  “No, I’m sorry. Yet again, I went off half-cocked.”

  “No, I should’ve been straight with you.”

  “You’re wet,” he said with a laugh.

  “So are you,” she said with a giggle. “And you have far too many clothes on.”

  “Just jeans.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Logue, but the jeans will have to come off.”

  “This was really sweet,” Charity said an hour later, after they’d finally dried off. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until finding this delicious spread.”

  “Sorry it’s cold.” He didn’t look the least bit remorseful.

  “Right. And I’ll be dying my hair purple for our upcoming nuptials.”

  “I think the lobby has a microwave for those pseudo breakfasts they serve. Want me to haul at least the meat down there and nuke it?”

  “Nah…” She winked. “Let’s just hurry up and eat. Then we can get back to—” Leaning across the table, she whispered her naughty idea in his ear.

  “Damn, woman,” he said, shoveling slaw onto her plate. “Had I known we had that to look forward to for dessert, I’d have served you dinner when you first walked in the door.”

  After an hour on the job Thursday morning, Adam hid a yawn behind his sleeve. Hot damn, what a night. He was a fool for having missed out on Charity’s hidden talents all these years.

  Warmed by memories of last night, Adam could almost feel himself drifting off when he heard Beau’s voice in his ear. “Yo, bro? You awake over there?”

  “Yeah, why?” Adam asked, using the mic hidden up his suit sleeve.

  “There was trouble at the judge’s house.”

  Adam’s heart thundered. “And…”

  “Stay calm, but—”

  “Dammit, Beau,” he stormed into his mic, ignoring the bailiff’s glare. “Tell me what happened.”

  “All you need know is that Charity went down, but now, she’s fine. Caleb also asked me to pass along the fact that if you for one second think of leaving your post, Franks is gonna fire your ass faster than—”

  Too late, Beau thought, watching his hotheaded brother leave the courtroom. Though professionally, Beau knew Adam was playing Russian roulette, Beau had to admit, even if it was only to himself, that had their roles been reversed, and Gracie was the one who’d been shot, a team of ten marshals couldn’t have kept him from being with her.

  Godspeed, little bro.

  “Hey.” Charity gazed up from her hospital bed to see her hunky man. “Thought you were supposed to be in court?”

  “I was. But I’d rather be with you.”

  “How’d you get Beau to let you go?” she asked. “Until Sanchez is caught, I thought Franks was adamant about having full teams on both the judge and Cookie at all times?”

  “Beau found a sub for me. My brother’s a great guy, huh?”

  “I’ll say.” Charity reached for Adam’s hand. “I’ll have to be sure and thank him.”

  “Nah.” Adam released her hand, fiddling with a purple iris in the massive flower basket Cookie and the Judge had sent. Was it the flowers’ rich scent making him sick, or his deception? “Beau’s funny about that kind of thing. Doesn’t like to be fawned over for doing acts of kindness. Says it makes him feel girly.”

  Charity wrinkled her nose. “Are you making that up?”

  “Come on,” he said with a laugh. “I’m not that creative.”

  “Good point.” She joined in on his laughter. “All right, promise my lips are sealed, even though I’m thrilled you’re here.”

  “In a lot of pain?” he asked, pulling up a chair to sit beside her.

  “No. The bullet just grazed my leg. In fact, the only reason I’m stuck in this bed is because of a surprise the doctor discovered.”

  His expression darkened. “You don’t have cancer, or something, do you?”

  “Adam!” She playfully smacked him. “Would you for once quit thinking the worst and try coming up with the most amazing reason in the world you could think of for me being held over.”

  “You’re in the hospital,” he said, leaning forward, brushing a stray hair from her forehead. “Nothing good comes out of hospitals except—no way.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re pregnant?”

  Nodding, tearing just like she had when the doctor had first told her, she gushed, “Can you believe it? Adam, sweetie, we’re going to have a baby.”

  He stood, pulling her into an awkward hug, only to abruptly release her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No. I’m pregnant, not broken.”

  “Still, you must have something wrong with you, or—”

  “The doctor wants to keep me overnight for observation. I lost some blood and was a little woozier than most folks. The doc asked if there was a chance I could be pregnant. I told him there was, but just microscopic. He tested me anyway and voilà.”

  Adam curved his big hands over her still-flat stomach. Hard to believe there was a kid inside. His kid! “This is blow-my-mind amazing. Have I told you lately how much I love you?” he asked.

  “I love you, too,” she said. “We’re going to have a great life.”

  “I’m just asking, so don’t get upset, but are you going to go on maternity leave?”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. I mean, you’ve just been shot. Don’t you think you should lay low for a while? Just laze around, take it easy?”

  “Sure,” she said, cupping her hand to his cheek, searching his eyes. “I’ll do all
of that in about eight months when I’ll be rolling after bad guys instead of running.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Whatever you say.”

  “You’re not going to fight me?” she asked, scarcely believing this was the same man who’d fought their boss over her being assigned to this case.

  He shrugged. “If you want to work, you should. Not much I can, or should say about it. I’m starting a new leaf, remember?”

  “Of course, I remember,” she said. “I’m just shocked—and impressed you do.”

  “Anything for you, angel.” He leaned over the bed rail to kiss her belly. “And you.”

  “What do you mean, you want me to pack up and go back to Portland?” Adam asked Caleb at eight that night over coffee and snacks in the hospital cafeteria. This time of night, the place was deserted save for a few teens playing cards at a back table. Their laughter felt out of place.

  “Just what I said.” His brother was stone-faced.

  “Oh, I get it.” Adam grinned while setting down his dry roast beef sandwich. “Charity put you up to this, didn’t she?”

  “No, bud. Sorry, but this is the real deal. Straight from Franks. Effective immediately, you’re temporarily relieved of your duties. Six weeks unpaid vacation for leaving your post.”

  “What the—” Adam shook his head.

  “By his own admission, Franks said he’s being overly harsh, but he wants you to learn a lesson you’ll never forget. Especially once you and Charity tie the knot.”

  “Beau knew where I was headed. She’d just been shot! Can you honestly tell me if Allie was hurt, you wouldn’t want to see her ASAP?”

  “We’re not talking about Allie, but Charity who, granted, is your fiancée, but technically, as far as this case is concerned, she should mean no more to you than a fellow marshal. You abandoned a man you were sworn to protect.”

  “Oh, come on.” Adam shoved his plate halfway across the table. “It’s the judge’s wife our guy wants to off. Beau was in that courtroom along with four other guys. They didn’t even need me. Judge Morningside was safe as—”

  “You’re not going to fast-talk your way out of this. Hand me your star and piece.”

  “What?” Lurching back, Adam said, “The hell I’m giving you my star. I worked hard for that thing.”

  His brother held out his hand. “Now.”

  “But—”

  Caleb just sat there, stone-faced, with his palm out.

  Head spinning, stomach sick, Adam handed over the star that had been the only thing keeping him sane after Angela’s death. The job used to be everything to him. Aside from Charity, it still was. And, hell, he never would’ve left the judge had he believed for one second the guy had been in danger. All tucked into his courtroom, he’d been safe as a baby in his momma’s arms.

  “Your gun, too,” Caleb said.

  Adam released his clip, then reluctantly handed it and the weapon over. “You’re a bastard to be doing this to your own family.”

  “Right back atcha,” Caleb said without an ounce of remorse or compassion. “I can’t believe you were stupid enough to have landed me in this position.”

  “Yeah, well, Dad’s gonna kick your ass when—”

  “Get out of here, Adam. And don’t show up at the Portland office until you’re invited back.”

  “But what am I going to tell Charity? I’m on probation with her, man. If she finds out about this, she’s not going to understand.”

  “Damn straight. Because she’s good at her job. She follows the rules.”

  “Okay, so I screwed up. Again. But, please, don’t tell her about this. Let it be our little secret.”

  “Little secret? Adam, you’re weeks from marrying the woman. Don’t you think she deserves to know the truth? She told me how you went off on her for not telling you straight out about the rock-through-the-window incident.”

  “That was the old me,” Adam said, mouth dry, pulse surging. He had to get Caleb to see this from his point of view. “Now that there’s a baby on the way, I’m officially turning a new leaf.”

  “Charity’s pregnant?”

  “Yep. I’m good, huh?” Adam winked.

  Caleb groaned. “That’s wonderful, man. I’m truly happy for you.”

  “So you’ll keep this whole unpaid leave thing just between us?”

  He sighed, glanced off toward the bored blonde manning the cafeteria checkout counter. Even from twenty feet away, Adam heard her drumming her long, fake nails on the stainless-steel counter.

  “Please,” Adam begged. “With the wedding and baby and all, Charity has enough on her plate without having to worry about me. Promise I’ll use this time to get my act together.”

  Caleb said, “I’m as big a fool for going along with this as you were for running out of that courtroom, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for love, and I love Charity. The last thing I want is for anything to bring her down. This is supposed to be a happy, fun time for her, and she shouldn’t have the days leading up to her wedding brought down by the likes of you.”

  “But why?” Charity asked Adam, sitting cross-legged in her hospital bed. Down the hall, someone’s monitor kept going off and the beeping was driving her crazy. So was their boss’s ridiculous decision.

  “Shouldn’t you be flat, or something?” Adam asked, gesturing to her awkward position.

  Trying to be amenable, she straightened one leg. “Seriously, Adam, why is Franks reassigning you? We’re a team. We should stick together.”

  “I know,” he said. “But probably this isn’t such a bad thing. It’s really sort of a promotion. The boss said he’s putting me on a top-secret witness protection thing.”

  “But you’ll be in Portland the whole time?”

  “Yep.”

  “Who are you protecting? I don’t recall anything big coming down the pipe.”

  “It’s sudden,” he said. “Super hush-hush.”

  “What about the wedding?” she asked. From the box on the bedside table, she pulled a tissue, then blew her nose. With a fresh tissue, she blotted teary eyes. “We’re already short on time. Are you going to be able to help with the planning?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ll just be a phone call away.”

  “So I won’t ever get to see you?” That devastating thought had her reaching for still more tissues.

  “Well, maybe once or twice I’ll manage to sneak away, but I promise to call every day.”

  When she pouted, he climbed into bed with her and her mountain of used tissues, tugging her onto his lap. “I’ll miss you,” she said.

  “Ditto,” he said, thoroughly kissing her. “You be safe.”

  Crying, nodding, she said, “You, too.”

  “No tears.” With the pads of his thumbs, he dried her cheeks. “Before you know it, this’ll be over and everything’ll be back to normal. Only better. ’Cause you’ll be my wife, and I’ll be your husband and we can go baby shopping and—” He kissed her again, this time hard, with a spooky intensity.

  “Adam?” she asked when he paused for air.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Is everything all right?” Her neighbor’s beeping monitor finally stopped. The sudden quiet was deafening.

  “How do you mean?”

  “You did tell me everything? I mean, this isn’t like some crazy, kamikaze mission you’re going on, is it?”

  “No way,” he promised. “I’m about to be a dad. From here on out, I’m playing it safe, and I’ll expect you to do the same.”

  Saturday, Charity found herself complying to Adam’s safety expectations whether she’d wanted to or not. Sanchez had been taken out in a surprisingly dull twist of fate that’d led marshals who’d been trailing him to catch him while doing his laundry at the Suds & Soak.

  Just as well, seeing how once Cookie heard through the grapevine of Charity’s pregnancy, she’d politely demanded she be taken off of her case. Not because she’d thought Charity would no longer do good work, but because she wante
d her to be safe. Unfortunately, Franks agreed, meaning she was on paperwork duty for the next eight months.

  That fact didn’t bring her down near as much as being without Adam. She hadn’t realized just how much time they spent together until being forced to be without him. True to his word, though, he’d called both nights he’d been gone, never giving her specifics on his case, but at least letting her know he was safe and cared.

  Even though she was without a date, Cookie had wanted Charity to join her and the judge and his mother for their promised dinner date, but Charity had politely declined. She was tired. Bone-deep, achy tired that she suspected had more to do with Adam and even Ralphie’s absence than the baby. She’d asked Adam to leave the dog with her, but he’d said the witness he was protecting enjoyed the lovable mutt’s company. Not all that uncommon, but still odd.

  One week came, and then another, until it was Thanksgiving, and Charity found herself feeling alone amongst a sea of soon-to-be family and friends. Steph was celebrating with Dr. Larry, and while Gillian and Joe had offered to fly her folks in for the occasion, they’d turned her down since they couldn’t find anyone to watch the farm animals for them while they’d be gone. Now that her father was retired, they’d turned their country home into what for all practical purposes might as well be a petting zoo. Her mother had relayed that her father had already hired a man for Christmas, but for Thanksgiving, they hadn’t had much luck finding an extra hand. Leaving Charity on her own with all of the Logues as well as Joe’s former in-laws and Allie’s mom—currently flirting up a storm with Adam’s dad.

  “More dressing?” Gillian asked, hovering beside Charity with a heaping spoon.

  “No, thanks,” Charity said, wondering how she could be glum in such outrageously opulent surroundings. Gillian’s dining room was a replica of a stone-walled Medieval dining hall they’d toured while on a trip to Scotland. The wooden cathedral ceiling had to be at least twenty-five feet high. Age-old, wall-hung tapestries provided much-needed warmth, as well as a massive stone hearth occupying nearly the whole south wall—inside of which a fire merrily crackled. The table was a sturdy oak affair, long enough for thirty. Soft classical music flowed from hidden speakers.