by Elle Kennedy
“I really hope you can hear this,” she muttered.
She didn’t look down at her chest, in case Patrick was watching her from the window, but the transmitter taped inside her bra dug into her skin, reminding her of the danger she was about to walk into.
Caleb’s partner assured her that every word would be recorded and transmitted to the team’s earpieces in real time. They would know what was going on every second she was in the house. If she said the panic word, agents would storm the house in less than a minute. If she convinced Patrick she wanted to leave town with him, she would say the go word and the arrest would be made after Caleb gave her the signal to wrench away from Patrick’s side.
Taking a breath, she picked up her purse, which contained the two hundred thousand dollars. The agents had opted not to tag the money with dye, instead tucking a tiny GPS transmitter into one of the stacks, in case Patrick managed another great escape.
She slung her purse over her shoulder and got out of the car. Her legs shook as she stepped onto the gravel driveway. She took a few more seconds to breathe, to gather her composure, and then she walked up the path to the front door.
Her hand wavered as she knocked on the door. It opened instantly, and for the first time in three months, Marley laid eyes on the man she’d been engaged to marry.
He looked exactly the same. Brown hair cut in a neat, no-nonsense style, wiry body covered with a pair of khakis and a polo shirt. Only his brown eyes looked different. Wilder. Colder.
Patrick looked pleased as he peered past her shoulders and examined the deserted street. He also seemed completely unruffled by the fact that he was pointing a gun at her.
“You came alone. Good girl.”
She yelped as he grabbed her arm and hauled her into the house, closing and locking the door behind them.
“Where’s my dad and brother?” she demanded.
He ignored the question. “Did you bring the money?”
She nodded.
“Give it to me.”
She reached into her purse, pulled out the envelope, and handed it to him. Keeping his gun trained on her, he stuck a hand into the bag and took out the envelope. Opening the flap, he flipped through the thick stacks of bills.
Marley held her breath, praying he wouldn’t stumble across the transmitter. It was smaller than a watch battery, hard to find unless he diligently examined each bill, which he didn’t.
She exhaled slowly. “It’s all there.”
“I can see that,” he replied.
“Can I see my family now?”
“You don’t get to ask me questions.” He leaned closer and jammed the barrel of the gun into her side.
She stared up at him, shocked by the emptiness she saw in his eyes. How could this be the same man she’d fallen in love with? The last time she’d seen Patrick, he’d been playful and loving as he kissed her goodbye and left for a web-design convention that would last all weekend.
There had never been a convention, only an illegal gathering to distribute drugs.
He looked like a total stranger now. Those empty eyes. The effortless way he gripped the gun, as if holding someone at gunpoint was no biggie to him.
Marley blinked back tears. She pressed her lips together, forcing herself not to plead with him. She was anxious to make sure her dad and Sam were alive, but she didn’t want to push him.
Patrick’s hard gaze connected with hers, and the unrestrained anger on his face made her apprehensive. She suspected he might snap at any second, just go ahead and shoot her, but to her surprise, his features crumpled with anguish. “How could you cheat on me?” he asked.
This was it. Her chance to diffuse the situation.
“You slept with that cop,” Patrick continued, bitterness drenching each word. “You couldn’t wait three damn months?”
She tried to speak, but he cut her off, his expression suddenly wistful. “You know, I came back here for you, Marley.”
She feigned surprise. “You did?”
“Yeah.” A faraway note entered his voice. “I had it all planned. We’d head for South America, buy a little house on the beach, spend the rest of our lives lying on the sand, just the two of us.”
Marley was tempted to point out how delusional that sounded—he was a fugitive, for Pete’s sake—but she stayed quiet. She couldn’t blow this. She’d promised Caleb she could handle this, and antagonizing Patrick was not the way to do it.
“That sounds wonderful,” she said, smiling up at him.
“Then why couldn’t you wait for me?” he spat out. “Instead of having faith that I’d come for you, you went out and screwed the first guy you saw.”
She took a deep breath. “I did it for you.”
Patrick’s entire body stiffened. “What did you say?”
“I said I did it for you,” she whispered.
Patrick didn’t speak, but she could swear the pressure of his gun eased up. His dark eyes searched her face. For what seemed like hours. She grew uncomfortable, scared, panicked, under that intense scrutiny. When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she said, “Why are you looking at me?”
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re telling me the truth.”
Her heart raced. “I am.”
“How?” he asked. “How was that for me, you banging another guy?”
She edged closer to him, flinching when the gun dug into her side again. “I missed you so much,” she confessed. “I was so worried, Patrick. I didn’t know where you were, if you were okay… And then this cop showed up, pretending to be my neighbor. I knew right away what he was up to.”
“You did?”
“Of course. I would never go to bed with another man unless I had a good reason. You know that.”
He looked deep into her eyes, a hesitant smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “You got close to him to get information? To protect me?”
“I got close to him so he wouldn’t get close to finding you,” she replied. “I had to be sure he wasn’t making headway locating you.”
Patrick hesitated, then released a sigh. “I would have done the same thing, babe.”
“Really?” She gave him a pleading look. “Do you forgive me, Patrick? I was only trying to help.”
He lowered the gun and slid closer to her, stroking her cheek with his cold fingers. “Of course I forgive you. I love you, Marley. I’ve been thinking of nothing but you the last three months.”
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth? You know I would have stood by you, no matter what you did for a living.”
He lowered his eyes and shrugged. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have trusted you.”
“Yes,” she agreed in a petulant voice.
“Well, I trust you now.” He gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”
He stuck the gun in the waistband of his jeans, every last iota of rage and resentment draining from his face, replaced with pure, delusional joy. Oh, God, he was insane. He seriously believed she was telling the truth. That she’d gotten close to Caleb to find out what the cops were doing.
So she could protect Patrick.
Choking back her disbelief, she said, “Can I really go with you?”
He gave her a warm smile, reminding her of the day she’d met him in the hospital, how charming he’d been. “I want you by my side, sweet pea, and I always will.” He wavered for a moment. “What about your dad? And Sam? Can you leave them? I know how much your family means to you.”
Then why are you holding them hostage? she wanted to scream.
Her nerves began to unravel like an old sweater, and she had to force herself to stay in character. “You mean more,” she said simply.
His entire face lit up, and all of a sudden he was the man she’d been going to marry. Preppy, handsome, easygoing smile.
“We should go then,” he said, urgency lining his tone. “How did you get away from the cops?”
She fed h
im the story she and Caleb had concocted. “I insisted I wanted to go into work. An agent followed me to the hospital, and then I switched clothes with Gwen and snuck out.”
Patrick sounded surprised. “Gwen helped you?”
“Of course.” Marley smiled. “She knows how much I still love you.”
“God, sweet pea, I missed you so much,” Patrick burst out, taking a step toward her.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and something in his expression shifted. To her dismay, she saw a spark of lust there. Horror gripped her insides as he dipped his head. He was going to kiss her.
There was no way she would be able to kiss him back. The very thought of placing her lips on his repulsed her.
Faking a smile, she pressed her index finger to his mouth and laughed. “Hold that thought. We need to go, remember?” She put on a concerned look. “But first I want to make sure Dad and Sam are okay, and say goodbye to them. Is that okay?”
The reverent expression on his face told he would give her the moon if she asked.
“Okay, you can say your goodbyes,” he conceded. “Let’s get this show on the road before I go crazy with impatience. I want to start our life together, Marley.”
She looked him square in the eye and said, “Me, too.”
15
CALEB CROUCHED BEHIND the tall hedges of the house three doors down from the Kincaid bungalow. Fear continued to slither up and down his spine like a hungry snake, cold and relentless. He’d been in this state since the moment he’d agreed to let Marley go and meet Patrick.
For the last ten minutes, he’d been listening to their conversation on his earpiece while AJ and Hernandez coordinated with the other agents and police officers on the scene. Four teams had been set up—all out of Patrick’s line of sight—and they were all raring to go. Waiting for Marley to say the word.
“She’s good,” Hernandez admitted with great reluctance as he came up beside Caleb.
Marley had just convinced Grier she was willing to leave her family for him. To anyone else, her tone must sound strong and confident. Ringing with conviction.
But Caleb had spent enough time with her to recognize the nuances of her voice. He knew when she was fighting back laughter, when she was aroused, when she felt vulnerable.
And when she was scared out of her wits, the way she was right now.
“She’s terrified,” he corrected.
Hernandez’s shoulders drooped. “I know.” He sounded ashamed as he added, “And I know you despise me for the way I treated her.”
Caleb sighed. “I already told you, I understand what drove you to it. The James case hit you hard, I get that.”
The detective gave a sad nod. “Yeah, it did.” He glanced at the four men standing nearby. They were armed and ready to take down the bastard whose clutches Marley had willingly put herself in. “But I’m not sure that excuses the way I acted.”
Caleb didn’t answer, too distracted by the relieved cry that rang in his ear. Patrick had just taken Marley to her father, who Caleb figured was tied up as he heard Marley ask about his wrists. Sam Sr. was apparently in perfect health, unlike his son. “Did you have to knock him unconscious?” Marley asked.
“He tried to attack me,” came Patrick’s muffled voice. “It’s only a sedative, sweet pea. He’ll come to in an hour or so.”
As Caleb listened, Marley tried to convince Patrick to untie her father, but he wouldn’t have it, insisting that her brother would take care of the bindings when he woke up. Now that Marley had seen to her family’s safety, Patrick was all action, going on about the money and the new IDs he’d arranged for them.
Footsteps echoed in Caleb’s ears. His muscles tensed. They were heading for the door.
“I’m so happy we’re doing this,” Marley said, sounding nearly giddy. “I’ve always wanted to go to South America.” She giggled. “The most exciting place I’ve ever been to is Disneyland.”
Disneyland—there it was, the go word.
Caleb and his team sprung into action.
“Let’s move,” Hernandez hissed.
The men emerged from their hiding place, moving in unison toward the Kincaid bungalow. They reached the front lawn just as Patrick and Marley stepped outside.
Grier’s eyes flashed with red-hot fury at the sight of Caleb and the other men. He spun around as two cruisers, along with an unmarked SUV, flew into sight. One cruiser drove directly onto the front lawn, another came to a grinding halt in the driveway, while the third skidded over the curb. Car doors opened and slammed, men in tactical gear, carrying gleaming black weapons, swarmed the yard.
Caleb heard his own voice shout, “Hands in the air, Grier!”
Rather than obey, Grier’s right hand snapped down to his waist and he whipped out a gun. Caleb’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as Grier then took that gun and jammed it into Marley’s temple.
“I’ll shoot her!” Grier screamed, his face bright crimson.
“Put the gun down,” Caleb ordered. He took another step forward.
“Don’t move!” Patrick yelled.
Caleb stopped in his tracks and shot a sideways look at Agent Tony D’Amato, who was kneeling behind the open door of the police cruiser on the lawn. D’Amato lifted his rifle slightly, asking a silent question, which Caleb answered with a hard glare. D’Amato wanted to take out Grier. Caleb wanted the same thing. But there was no way in hell he was doing anything until Marley was out of the line of fire.
He forced himself not to look at her, but it was damn near impossible. Her heart-shaped face was ashen. She stood motionless, with Grier’s weapon pressed to her temple.
“You’re completely surrounded,” Caleb told Grier. He lowered his voice. “Just let her go and give yourself up, Patrick. This doesn’t have to end with another life on your hands.”
“I killed that agent in self-defense! I’m not a murderer!”
“Of course not,” Caleb soothed. He took another step. “But you will be, if you use that gun on Marley.”
“Don’t say her name,” Grier hissed. “She doesn’t belong to you. She belongs to me!”
Another step. “Then I’m sure you don’t want to hurt her, Patrick. I know you care about her.”
Grier’s features twisted. “She’s mine.” He jabbed the gun into Marley’s temple again. “But I will kill her if you sons of bitches don’t get out of my way. Marley and I have a plane to catch.”
Caleb moved closer, then stopped and caught Marley’s eye. The panic on her face tore at his insides, but he pushed away the primal urge to launch himself at Patrick Grier and wrench Marley away from him. Instead, he sent her the signal they’d agreed on back at her house, two quick nods and the lift of his right shoulder.
She answered with an imperceptible nod and followed his orders to a T.
Pride mingled with the fear pumping through Caleb’s blood as Marley made her move. With a little cry, she pretended to trip, then dove to the side, pressing her body flat to the ground.
While Patrick blinked with shock at losing his hostage, Caleb charged forward. “Put the gun down!” he yelled.
Grier blinked again. He suddenly snapped out of whatever trance he’d gone into, his lips tightening. He stared at Caleb running toward him, then at Marley, who was a couple of yards to his left.
With lightning speed, he spun the gun at Marley.
Caleb didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger of his Glock, eliciting an outraged shriek of pain from Patrick as his arm took a hit. The other man stumbled, but not before his gun spat out a wild, desperate bullet in Marley’s direction.
A bullet that Caleb dove in front of.
MARLEY LIFTED HERSELF onto her elbows in time to see Caleb’s big, strong body thudding to the ground.
Chaos ensued. The hurried footsteps of the other agents rushing for Patrick. Patrick’s shouts of indignation as he was thrown down, his arms yanked behind his back.
Still stunned, Marley watched as a pair of handcuffs were snapped
around Patrick’s wrists. And then the agents hauled him toward one of the cars, while he spat and struggled.
She winced when she heard him call her name.
“Marley!” he wailed. “You tricked me! You little bitch!”
He was still shouting at her as the cops shoved him into the cruiser.
“Are you okay?” a deep voice asked, and then a big hand helped her to her feet.
She flinched when she realized the hand belonged to Detective Miguel Hernandez. “I’m fine,” she squeezed out.
“Ms. Kincaid,” the detective started awkwardly. “I wanted to apologize for—”
She was already rushing away before he could finish the sentence. She didn’t want or need Hernandez’s apology, not when Caleb lay there on the grass after taking the bullet that was meant for her. What if the bullet had missed the vest?
“Caleb,” she said urgently as she fell to her knees beside him.
He let out a groan and then, to her relief, sat up. Marley scanned his torso, wincing at the neat hole in the middle of his dark-blue button-down shirt.
“It got the vest, right?” She ran her fingers over him, checking for damage.
With a soft chuckle, he unbuttoned his shirt and spread it apart, revealing the black Kevlar vest molded to his broad chest. A small bullet was lodged in the material, an inch to the right of Caleb’s heart.
“They always aim for the vest,” he said gruffly.
“Unless they’re aiming at your head,” she said, mimicking his earlier words. “Seriously, are you okay?”
“I feel like I got the wind knocked out of me, but I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.” Caleb stumbled to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Did he hurt you?”
She stared into his gorgeous blue eyes and the love and concern she saw shining there robbed her of breath. He was worried about her. He’d just taken a bullet while trying to save her, and he was thinking about her?
“He didn’t hurt me,” she assured him. “He was too busy planning our happy little life together. I did good, didn’t I? I really had him going.”
