by Cherrie Lynn
Chapter Thirty
She’d tasted fear these past few days, but none like this. None like having an unwavering gun pointed at her, so that the world contracted to that tiny black hole in the end of the barrel, where something waited to leap out and end her life. She wished she could be more like her sister, who stared that horror in the face unflinching, but she couldn’t. She could only watch Jace, trying to draw strength from the mere fact that he was here, and pray.
“Your services are no longer required.”
The cold tone of Rhys’s voice left no doubts as to his meaning. He would kill her now and not think twice about it. But if the exchange would be that Jace would be under his thumb, she was willing to give her life to free him from that. Lena’s hands tightened around Lindsey’s good one, her grip cool and clammy.
Jace surged toward Griffin as the latter adjusted his aim. All Lindsey knew was that the bullet would hit her. She didn’t know where. Would it be fast so that she didn’t feel it? Slow to add more agony to her busted limbs and ribs? “Don’t you fucking hurt her anymore,” he bellowed at Griffin.
“Say the word, Jace, and maybe soon you can talk me into letting them go,” Rhys said. “Dependent upon your good behavior, of course.”
He looked over at her, and she literally saw him weakening before her very eyes. And he was bleeding so badly. “No!” Lindsey screamed at him. Little else had been worse than compromising her integrity to code for these people.
It was the last thing on earth she wanted for Jace.
Someone of his abilities… He could wreak so much havoc she could hardly bear to think about it. He was a weapon, and in the wrong hands, he could be destructive.
She’d been useful, but he’d been the prize.
“If you knew shit about anything,” Jace said to Rhys, “she’s the one you’d be after to join your band of merry assholes. Not that I would want that for her, any more than I want it for me.
“But you’re missing the mark on this one. Look at what she did here today. You’d had her beaten half to death. Look at her. She literally did this one-handed, with both eyes closed, or close enough. Got you your money and got me here. And she’s the one you want to kill to get to me? I’m shit in comparison to her. You don’t need me. Take me the fuck out; get your revenge. Do it now.” He lifted both arms out to his side, even his injured one. His blood dripped on the floor.
Rhys narrowed his eyes in contemplation. She shook her head furiously, though it made her even dizzier than she already was. He was trying to buy her more time, but his words were so wrong they were offensive to her. “Lena, we have to stop this,” she hissed in her sister’s ear.
“Shh. Let him talk.”
“Come on, Rhys,” Jace said to his ex-teammate. “I’m not who you want.”
Rhys jerked his gun from his holster and leveled it at Jace’s head. “You got that right.”
A gun went off. Lindsey screamed, pitching herself from the chair, Lena catching her before she could fall to the concrete floor. More gunshots rang out, utter confusion setting in as Lena covered her with her body, keeping Lindsey’s head pushed down. She couldn’t see, and she couldn’t hear from the ringing in her ears and her head, so much sound creating what amounted to a screeching silence. She fought like hell to get up and get to Jace, who was surely lying dead on the floor, but her sister’s weight and her own injuries kept her from moving. All she could hear over the cacophony was Lena yelling Sharpe’s name.
Jace, Jace, oh Jace, no.
The hard concrete beneath her couldn’t absorb her tears. She wanted to just lie here, make an ocean, and drown. She needed to see, needed to get to him, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t see him dead. Griffin—Sharpe—whoever-he-was should have just pulled the trigger and put her down. It would be preferable to the pain that tore through her heart at the thought of Jace bleeding out on the ground.
Then another voice rang out. It sounded distant, as if the fight had moved outside the room.
“Get her out!” Jace? “Lena! Get Lindsey the fuck out!”
“Time to drag your broken ass outta here, little sister.” Her twin’s hands, identical to hers but far stronger, seized under her armpits and lifted. Lindsey barely felt the pain, such was her elation. That had been Jace’s voice, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard in her life.
“What happened? I thought—”
“My partner came through. He shot Rhys, but some of his cronies busted in and got the bastard out.”
“Jace?”
“I think he got hit again.”
“Oh God!”
“Lindsey, focus. He can handle himself. You’re my priority right now. Come on, sister, step. Help me out. You can do it.”
With Lena’s cheerleading, she managed to step with one leg and sort of drag the other, leaning heavily on her sister for support. It was excruciating. It was physically the hardest thing she had ever done. But Jace was somewhere out there, hurt and bleeding, too, and that gave her the strength to trudge forward.
Just as they were reaching the door, Lindsey panting with her exertions, they stopped with gasps as another group of armed men and women burst in, guns drawn. Lindsey finally, thoroughly prepared to die. Lena only gave the bunch a hard glare and bellowed, “It’s about fucking time!”
Lindsey had her cavalry. It looked as if Lena’s had finally arrived.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lindsey stared down at the cast that enclosed her leg from thigh to ankle. Never in her life had she broken a bone before. Now she’d had several.
They’d named the bones for her, but she couldn’t be bothered to recall which they were. They freaking hurt when cracked and shattered—that much she knew. Her leg and a rib had required surgery.
Almost as bad were the bruises that covered her almost head to toe, sickening shades of black and purple, and yellow as more superficial ones healed before the darker, deeper ones did. Her body was one gigantic blur of pain and soreness. But the drugs were pretty good. She had no complaints about those.
Her mom and dad kept a vigil by her bedside. The story she gave them was that she had been mugged and beaten and left. She hadn’t seen her attackers well enough to give a description. Someone had come along and brought her to the hospital. Yes, that was odd—why hadn’t they called an ambulance? The police? Who the hell knew. She told her lame story so many times she almost believed it herself. Almost.
And she waited for Jace.
He was okay. The first bullet had grazed his right arm. A second had taken him in the left calf. He was hobbling a little but, all in all, was in better shape than she was. Sharpe, Lena’s partner, had saved his life. His had been the gunshot she’d heard, the one she’d been certain had taken Jace’s head off—and to hear him tell the story, he’d pretty much thought the same for a split second. Turned out Sharpe wasn’t quite as deep in Libra’s pockets as he’d wanted Lena to believe, but Lena still wasn’t sure whether to trust him.
Her hospital room door opened, and Lena walked in. Lindsey choked on her breath. She would have flung her covers back and run to her twin if she could. The two of them had spoken briefly on the phone, but this was the first time they’d seen each other since her people had whisked Lindsey away to a Salt Lake City hospital. She was now back in Denver.
Lena’s face, so like her own, was drawn and grave. “How are they treating you?” she asked, her gaze roaming over the IV and steadily beeping monitor as she closed the door behind her and approached the bed, all business.
“They’re slowly putting me back together.”
“They tell me you’ll be good as new.”
Lindsey gave a humorless laugh. “I don’t see how. I can’t imagine ever feeling normal again.”
“You will.” The knowing in Lena’s voice made Lindsey wonder if she’d ever spent time recovering in a hospital a
ll alone while her family cursed her absence and irresponsibility. How wrong they had all been.
“Lena…” She dropped her voice to a whisper and cast a gaze around. It wasn’t as if someone was hiding behind the visitors’ chairs, but God, this paranoia wouldn’t leave her. After everything they’d gone through, Rhys had gotten away. “You have to help Jace.”
All Lena did was lift a finger to her own lips in a shushing gesture. I’m not being paranoid, am I? There’s danger all around us. “It’s going to be all right,” her sister said in a normal tone. But what did that mean?
“Have you seen Mom and Dad?” She had just missed them leaving by twenty minutes or so.
“Yeah. Told them I was sorry about skipping out on their anniversary party. I won’t be forgiven for that anytime soon.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything.”
Lena gave a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. The exact same way she’d brushed off their scolding for years now. How had she carried this burden for so long without snapping?
Lindsey reached for her hand, and Lena took it with a swiftness that spoke volumes from someone who had an aversion to displays of affection. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For all you do for us.”
Except for a moment of weakness during their recent stint in captivity, she didn’t think she’d ever seen Lena’s eyes well with tears. Not since they were little. “It feels good to hear someone say that,” Lena replied softly. Then she let go and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “And now, hospitals make me feel gross, so I need to go.”
“Promise me we’ll see each other more. As often as we can.” If this experience had shown her anything, it was that they had to stick together.
“Oh, you know me, Linz,” Lena said airily. She couldn’t stand being pinned down.
“Yeah. I know.”
“Tell you what. Despite that fact—I’ll do my best.”
“I guess that’s all I can hope for, huh?”
“You’re lucky to get that. But I love you, little sister. Never forget it.”
“Hey. Only little because you beat me out by seventeen minutes. But I love you, too.”
“By the way, I talked to Dad yesterday, too, and he was upset that he couldn’t get into your apartment to bring you his present. You know, the one he said he stopped by to give you.”
“He shouldn’t worry about that. I’ll get it in time.”
Lena dug into the depths of her handbag. “It just so happens I took it upon myself to get it for you.” She brought out the little brightly wrapped box, holding it up with the tips of her fingers. “How come you always get the tiny boxes? That’s always the good stuff.”
“Because I’m the good twin.” Lindsey reached for it with her intact arm. “How did you get in?”
“I went to your super and pretended to be you. God, do you know how difficult that was for me? I can barely pull off that wide-eyed, dewy innocence of yours. Being nice to people is so hard. Now open that before I leave, so I can be jealous.”
Laughter hurt Lindsey’s ribs, oh hell, how it hurt, but in her soul, it felt good. She opened the little box, finding a beautiful gold picture locket with an old photo of her when she was no older than six or so, and Lena on the other side. The only difference in their faces was that Lindsey was missing a tooth on the right and Lena was missing one on the left.
It was so like her father to give her this, to be the peacemaker after he’d known Lindsey was so upset about the anniversary party. There was a message here, and she tried her damnedest not to burst into tears. Even Lena was struck silent, simply giving Lindsey’s hand a farewell squeeze before shouldering her purse strap and walking toward the door.
She reached for the handle just as it opened…and came face-to-face with Jace.
Lindsey’s eyes flew wide, and she couldn’t grasp onto any one emotion. Elation to see him. Horror that she might have to crawl from her bed, broken bones and all, to get between them. Jace’s face underwent so many expression changes in the span of two seconds that she had no idea what was about to come out of his mouth.
Lena, however, didn’t miss a beat. “I bet you’ve spent all these years coming up with the perfect thing to say if you ever saw me again, Jace. But I have just one thing, so let me say it. I’m sorry.” She smacked him on the shoulder as she breezed past him. “Take care of my sister.”
He turned about three shades of red before his gaze alighted on Lindsey in her bed, and all animosity drained from his features. “Please don’t hold her against me,” she said, hoping to pull him back from whatever dark place that rage had flung him.
Somehow, it worked. “Much rather hold you against me.” One corner of his mouth lifted in that wicked smirk she loved so much. She wanted to weep from seeing it again, she was so grateful, but she managed to hold it together.
“I’m afraid I won’t be much good for that for a few weeks yet,” she forced out.
His expression gentled even further. “I’ll wait.” He carried a beautiful bouquet of flowers in one hand. She smiled as he limped over and set the vase on her table, keeping his right arm close to his body. “I wasn’t sure, but I thought you could use a little color,” he said, then leaned over to give her a barely there kiss on the brow.
She closed her eyes, breathing him in deep, savoring everything she thought she’d lost. He was all the color in this world that she needed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Well.” She glanced down at her casts. “You see how bad it looks?”
“Yeah.”
“It feels that bad, too.”
“I bet.” He took the seat by her bed and wiped a hand down his face. She knew what was coming, knew the guilt he would carry from now on, knew there was nothing she could say to ease that burden for him. But she would try.
“Please don’t,” she pleaded. “If you’re going to say something stupid like being with you is bad for my safety, just don’t, Jace.”
“The evidence is pretty overwhelming,” he said bitterly, his dark eyes roaming over her broken body. She had so many questions, but they would have to keep. Despite his injuries, he looked good. Tired, perhaps. She took in every square inch of his skin she could see but found nothing suspect. His beautiful, intense eyes returned her assessment almost desperately. Her breath staggered from the warring emotions roiling through her.
“But it’s over,” he said at last. “For now, anyway. It’s all over, and it’s Christmas. I’m going to put it aside for now.”
Nothing was over. She bit her lip on her many questions, winced from the pain, and chuckled. “I thought you didn’t like Christmas.”
“Maybe I like someone who likes Christmas.” Whatever her mother had been talking about, whatever she had seen at their dinner that night, Lindsey thought she might see it now in his eyes.
She stared at him, at the pure miracle of him. And she let him see her stare. Let him know how beautiful she thought he was. Somehow, her lip didn’t hurt quite so bad from a smile. “Really? Would that be me?”
Leaning closer so that she could get an enticing whiff of his familiar scent, he curled his fingers gently around hers. She absorbed the warmth, the comfort. This was all she’d needed. “That would be you.”
“I kind of like you, too,” she whispered.
“Lindsey. I meant to tell you sooner. I bow to your superior Zelda fandom and all, but I’m disappointed that you forgot the absolute most basic tenet.”
“Huh?”
“‘It’s dangerous to go alone’,” he quoted.
Oh God. She loved this man. She couldn’t help it; tears fell from her eyes, even as she laughed. “I did forget that, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did. ‘Take this.’” And he kissed her. To hell with split lips; he tasted so good, so warm, she clos
ed her eyes and drank him in—the best medicine she’d had since she’d been here.
“I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help it,” he murmured. “I want to take you away from all this once you heal up. How does that sound?”
“A beach,” she said longingly, opening her eyes. “Sand between my toes, the sun on my shoulders, and a margarita in my hand. Yes. Please. I do love Christmas, but I’ve had enough of the cold.” She would ignore how he said he shouldn’t be doing this. For now. He was, and that was what mattered.
“Your wish is my command. But that means you have to heal as fast as you can.”
“Well, I’d speed along the process if I could.”
“You never know. Maybe that’s all the motivation you need.”
He was all the motivation she needed.
His phone chimed with an incoming text message, and he pulled it from his pocket to read it while she took in his every move, marveling how the most mundane of activities were so intriguing in someone you were head over heels for. “We have that to look forward to, but Christmas is now,” he said, getting to his feet. “Just so happens I have a present for you.”
“You do?”
He walked to the door and yanked it open, and suddenly Christmas exploded in her hospital room. Sully breezed in yelling “Ho ho ho!” carrying a little tree complete with decorations. Helix and Drake hauled armfuls of presents and snacks, both in Santa hats.
In her moment of sheer joy and excitement, Lindsey almost surged upright, but her body quickly reminded her of its condition, and she yelped.
Jace was at her side in a heartbeat. “Don’t hurt yourself. We thought maybe flowers weren’t quite enough color. So here you go, baby. Merry Christmas.”
He whipped something from his coat pocket, and she spied the little red berries on the greenery before he even held the mistletoe above her head, leaning over to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. Shivers ran down the length of her body. Shivers didn’t feel too great on broken bones, but she wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
