The Proposal

by Jennifer Lewis

  She felt David smile against her hair. “You get that gun away from you, and you’re nothing but a pathetic suit.”

  Brad sneered at him. “You and that lap dog of hers, you both think you’re so tough because you were in the military. How do you plan to stop a bullet?”

  Jack interrupted them. “Deacon said he’d send the money.”

  Brad’s gaze did not waver from them. “Good. You finally prove your worth.”

  Jack said nothing, but Andrea could see the insult stung. She wished she could use that to her advantage. Cupping her throbbing ribs, she could only concentrate on breathing.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Benton paced when his phone rang. It was Deacon. The conversation was short, proving his worst fears came true. Brad now had Andrea and her parents. Somehow, Jack was involved too. Money, no doubt. Benton hadn’t thought his father could go so low, but apparently, he could be wrong in so many ways today.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He swung around to Ryan after ending the call. “Brad and Jack. They’re at Andrea’s parents. They want $5 million or they’ll kill them.”

  Ryan whistled. “Shit.”

  Benton slammed his fist down on the closest object. “We weren’t fast enough.”

  Sam rose, walking to place his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “We’ve got the element of surprise. Brad might know we’re coming, but the idiot didn’t think that telling Deacon would tip us off.”

  Rubbing his forehead, Benton could only nod.

  “You want to alert the police?” Ryan wanted to know.

  Benton shook his head. “I want to deal with the bastard first. The police can have what’s left.”

  Sam squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t get carried away. You don’t need to be charged with murder.”

  He looked Sam in the face. “If I need to, I’ll kill him.”

  “I believe you.”

  He took a breath. “But truthfully, death is too good for that bastard. I’d rather he rot in prison.”

  What he wanted, was to wrap his hands around Brad’s neck and squeeze until his eyes glazed over. The man made Andrea’s life miserable for the last month, despite causing the entire issue himself. He knew the local police in Seattle and the FBI hunted him. Why neither of them could find him, he didn’t know. Hell, his men had no better luck. Having Deacon as a boss, he knew well what money could do.

  Two and a half hours never seemed so long before. He was growing tired of the interior of this plane and his hands wanted action. His stomach clenched at the thought of not making it there in time. Now that he had her, he didn’t want to lose her. He knew without doubt she was the only woman he wanted. He wanted kids with her, he wanted to grow old with her, he wanted to put up with her crazy ideas. He wanted to hold her and never let go.

  “You know, pacing won’t get us there any faster,” Ryan said.

  Benton flashed Ryan his middle finger. Ryan only laughed, and Benton knew his friend was trying to diffuse some of the tension. It was true, they couldn’t get there any faster, despite his chaotic thoughts. It wouldn’t be long now, but they still had to disembark, get a car and drive there. Every precious second could mean death. And the fact that Jack was involved... If ever the man was dead to him, it was now.

  The pilot’s voice came over the intercom, warning them to take their seats. All Benton could think of, was his stupid words to her yesterday evening. He hadn’t admitted he wanted her in his bed. Hell, he hadn’t even admitted that he cared for her more than anything he ever had the privilege to call his own. He should have told her the marriage might have started as a sham, but the last thing he wanted was for it to end.

  “I love her.”

  Ryan buckled his seat belt. “Yeah, we know.”

  “I should’ve told her.”

  “Should’ve, could’ve, would’ve, buddy. Don’t dwell on it now. Get your head in the game.”

  Benton knew Ryan was right. He couldn’t let his worry cloud his judgment. Just like when he went to Africa to get Ashlyn, he needed to be calm and in control.

  “You guys have your guns?”

  Sam patted under his arm, nodding. Ryan did the same. A handgun wasn’t much, but it was better than going naked.

  It felt like ages until the plane landed. Inside the hangar, Deacon had a couple of cars. Benton chose the black, nondescript one and though it killed him, drove carefully out of the airport. It felt better to be on the road and on his way to Andrea.

  “We’ll park a few houses down. We can go in the back door,” he told Sam and Ryan.

  The scenery went by in a blur; houses, other cars and vegetation blending one into the next. Benton concentrated on the road and wished like hell they invented teleportation already. As silly as it sounded, the element of surprise would certainly be on their side then.

  He felt half-crazed.

  Now he understood how Deacon felt waiting to find out if Ashlyn lived or died. At least he could take action. He didn’t want to know how Deacon spent the hours waiting to hear from him. That kind of torture was something he hoped he never knew.

  This was bad enough.

  ****

  “Sit down!”

  Following Brad’s order, they dropped on the couch. Andrea winced with the movement, thinking her ribs were bruised at best. Her father kept her mother and Andrea close, expression shuttered. If she knew him like she did, she thought he planned something. Distraction seemed to be all they had left. By now, Benton’s plane should have landed and hopefully he would be on his way here.

  Jack hung back in the corner, not saying anything. Andrea felt saddened for Benton. His father was the only family he had left, and now, considering he was an accomplice, jail seemed the likely prospect. Fear fast gave way to weariness. She only hoped nothing happened to her parents. They didn’t deserve to be part of this.

  Brad leaned against the mantle. “We might as well get comfortable. It’s going to be a while.”

  “I don’t know what you hope to accomplish. Do you really think Deacon is going to give you the money?”

  He pointed the gun at her. “If he doesn’t want dead bodies on his hands, yes.”

  “You know, the FBI is after you. Deacon is fully cooperating with them.”

  Brad shrugged. “I’ll be out of the country by the time they realize where I am.”

  She focused on Jack. “And what about you, Jack? Are you really ready to burn your bridges with Benton? Why are you even following Brad?”

  Jack shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. “I need the money or I’m dead.”

  Grace squared her shoulders. “What right do you have to trade another life for yours?”

  Jack rolled his shoulders, as if to shrug off the weight of the accusation. “Brad promised no one would get hurt.”

  “Shut up, Jack!”

  “Obviously,” David interjected, “that isn’t the case.”

  Brad waved the gun around. “You people talk too much.”

  Andrea felt a little of what she thought Benton must feel. She wanted to get up and hurl herself at Brad. He did more than hurt her, he intruded on her parents’ home. No one deserved this, least of all her parents.

  “You think Benton is going to let you get far?” Andrea swiped at her lip, where another drop of blood accumulated.

  “He can’t stop me. Unless he wants you dead.”

  “You’re awful confident.”

  Brad waved the gun. “You sound the same. What makes you think I wouldn’t shoot you right now and take the money?”

  “You won’t risk the money.”

  Brad moved closer to her. Andrea closed her eyes briefly, praying she distracted him enough to give Benton the time he needed. She knew it couldn’t be much longer. Just the thought of Brad near her, touching her, breathing on her left her skin crawling.

  She opened her eyes to find Brad close to her face. His eyes were wild. She couldn’t say she recognized the man who sat across from her in the restaurant that
night. Before he could speak, her father put his arm protectively across her shoulders. Brad only stared at her, before seeing what she thought he wanted to see.

  Straightening, he nodded. “You’re scared. Don’t try to pretend you aren’t.”

  Andrea stiffened her shoulders. “Of course I am! You’re waving a gun around, threatening me and my parents. Why shouldn’t I be scared?”

  “Not such an ice queen without your pit bull here to protect you, are you?”

  The insult penetrated, like she thought he wanted it to. Was that how she came across to others at work? Unfeeling and uncaring? She hoped not. But she needed to consider the source. She needed to not let Brad’s words latch on, shredding her sense of self. The man was clearly insane. She had never met anyone so unhinged.

  She lifted her chin. “Think what you want. There’s no shame in admitting I’m afraid.”

  “Proud to the end. That’s only going to get you killed.”

  “Maybe.”

  He moved closer again. She knew she angered him. It was a risk, but if it meant she kept him engaged when Benton arrived... It was all worth it. Even if he hurt her again.

  “You really should shut your mouth.”

  Jack interceded, placing a hand on Brad’s shoulder. “It’s going to be a while until Benton gets here with the money. Why don’t we sit down?”

  Brad jerked his shoulder violently. “Don’t tell me what to do. You’re only here because I let you.”

  Jack sighed. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. You’re just frustrating yourself, talking to her.”

  Andrea watched Brad’s face twist and contort, the effect chilling her enough to have her pulling back. He swung on Jack, advancing. Jack held his ground, never flinching, to his credit. She got the impression that Jack wasn’t fully involved in the plan. If she could only drive a wedge between him and Brad, further opening the crack.

  “Leave him alone, Brad! You’re just a bully. Benton isn’t going to want you hurting his dad either.”

  Brad pinched his brow, swinging back to her. Holding the gun in line with her head, he snarled, “I’m serious! Shut up!”

  Her mom placed a hand on her arm. “Andy.”

  The side of her face was swelling. She could feel the stretch of her skin, leaving a dull ache. Her lips felt two-times too big and her ribs throbbed. If she made it out of here alive, she wasn’t going to take anything for granted again. She would talk to Benton instead of running. She would try, even if he wasn’t ready. Though she wanted what her parents had, she knew she could be strong enough to wait.

  Heeding her mother, knowing she could push Brad far enough to make him break, she sat back and kept quiet. It couldn’t be long now. She only hoped Brad didn’t hurt Benton. She couldn’t bear the thought of never hearing his voice again, feeling his touch. The fear of losing him swallowed her, greater than the fear of her own death. This was what it was to love.

  Brad took a seat in her father’s chair. He motioned to the kitchen. “Go get me a cup of coffee, Jack.”

  Jack stared at him a moment.

  “Go!”

  Sighing, Jack turned and left the room. Andrea heard the opening and closing of cabinets, the clink of a mug on the counter. Brad sat with the gun trained on them. Her father squeezed her arm, offering her a bolstering smile. She could barely lift her lips in reply. It hurt too much.

  She knew it had to be killing her father not to act. A former marine, he had the skills, but knew the situation wasn’t ideal. Did he depend on Benton the same way she did? She didn’t know if he disliked her husband, or just the situation she and Benton lived in. It didn’t matter now. She knew she loved him and that gave her a sort of peace she didn’t know before.

  It would be enough.

  She wished now she stayed home. If she hadn’t left, her parents wouldn’t be in this situation. Benton wouldn’t be putting himself in danger for her. She felt like an idiot. If they survived, she promised herself never again. She would trust Benton.

  If they lived.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They parked the car four houses down. On foot, they took to the alleyway and kept along the fence lines. Upon reaching Andrea’s parents, they noted no guards. Scaling the fence, they dropped carefully into the grass and looked at one another. Brad didn’t know what he was doing. Blinded by his own ego, and lack of mental stability, it obviously hadn’t occurred to him they wouldn’t comply.

  Benton motioned for Ryan to go around front. He would knock on the door with a duffel bag full of clothing. Distracting Brad and Jack, he would give Benton and Sam time to enter unnoticed through the back. It was a risk, but Ryan accepted any of the fall-out. The former Ranger had been in tighter, more dangerous situations. Brad meant little to him considering the things he saw.

  Benton and Sam waited by the back door. Faintly, he could hear Ryan knocking and no sound inside. His stomach tightened, and he hated the metallic tang of fear on the back of his tongue. Fear, that something happened to Andrea and her parents. After a few precious seconds, someone shouted from inside and he heard the unmistakable creek of the door opening.

  “Who are you?” Brad.

  “Ryan. I have the money.”

  There was a moment of silence. “Where’s Benton?”

  “He sent me.”

  Brad laughed, a harsh, grating sound. “He didn’t even have the guts to come himself. How rich.”

  Ryan said nothing.

  “Well, give me the bag.”

  Even Benton could hear the grin in Ryan’s tone. “Sure.”

  “What the-”

  They burst through the back in time to see Brad grappling with the bag, stumbling backward. Before Ryan could step in, Jack suddenly launched himself from where he lounged. The bag fell between them, and Jack grabbed at the gun in Brad’s hand. The two wrestled, the moment seeming impossibly long and quicker than possible all at once.

  Circumventing the struggle, Ryan used the distraction to usher Andrea and her parents toward the back door. Andrea paused in the archway, seemingly uncertain as she stared at Benton. Worried for her safety, Benton mouthed go. She nodded once, and disappeared. Relieved that she was no longer in harm’s way, he moved in. But not before seeing her swollen, bloodied face.

  The bark of the gun rang in the silence between them all. Both Brad and Jack froze, the gun falling to the floor beneath them. Jack took a step backward, grasping his stomach. Blood oozed out between his fingers, his face a pale mask of shock. Benton launched himself at Brad, knocking him to the floor. Knee in the other man’s back, he twisted an arm behind him. The other lay trapped under Brad’s chest.

  Jack fell to his knees, holding a drenched hand in front of his face. Their eyes locked, and Benton felt conflict tear him apart. His father was part of the reason Andrea nearly died. Yet, at the last moment, he showed his true character. And now he would die for it.

  “Sam!” Benton barked, trading places with the other man.

  Dropping next to his father, he examined the wound. Ripping off his jacket, he pushed Jack to the floor and pressed it into the freely bleeding hole. Face coated with sweat, hands trembling, Jack gripped Benton’s arm and lifted his head, trying to speak.

  “Be quiet. You-”

  “No. No, Benton. I’m sorry. I’ve been a disappointing father all your life. I let my vices get the best of me and once I was in the downward spiral, I didn’t know how to get out. After your mom died... It just didn’t seem worth it to care anymore. I was wrong.”

  “Dammit, Jack. Why did you have to play the hero?”

  Jack coughed, blood trailing down his chin and sliding into the grooves of age in his neck. “I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

  The wail of sirens sounded in the distance.

  “Hang on. The ambulance will be here and-”

  Jack’s smile was rueful, full of knowing and acceptance. “I’m getting what I deserved, Ben. Just take care of that girl. She has guts. She loves you...�
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  He knew he looked as helpless as he felt. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jack deserved a lot, but not death. He could rest easy knowing his father was locked away in a prison cell. But Brad took that away from them both.

  “You aren’t going anywhere, Dad.”

  Jack smiled again. It was a beautiful smile, full of a love that hurt Benton to look at. “It’s okay, Ben. You got a lot of time left. Make it good time.”

  Police and paramedics came through the door, pushing Benton aside. He watched them put oxygen on his father, hook him up to a monitor and start addressing the wound. The police were asking him questions he couldn’t hear through the rush in his head. Sam had Brad on his feet, gun to his head and arms twisted behind his back. It took seconds for him to stalk the length of the room and drill a fist into Brad’s unapologetic face.