“I’m sorry.” She forced herself to breathe evenly. Every moment of that failed trial had been burned into her memory. Braxton running to her cubicle with news of the mission go-ahead from her project supervisor, Dalton Meyer, her trying to shut Oversight down remotely. Nothing had worked. In the end, she’d been restrained by security and sealed in an office while the NSA had taken control of her program. She’d only learned of Oversight’s mistake after the fact. And had taken the blame for it all. “I tried to stop them. I told them the program wasn’t ready, but Meyer wouldn’t listen—”
“You think I did all of this for an apology?” A low, dark laugh rumbled from deep in his chest, and a shiver shot across Elizabeth’s shoulders. She interlaced her fingers tighter as he closed the short distance between them, her wrists straining against the handcuffs. He leveraged his weight against the back of the chair with one arm. A combination of spicy aftershave and sweat dived into her lungs. “No, Elizabeth. I brought you here so you can watch your creation burn. Then I’m going to kill you.”
Shock rocked through her. Her mouth dried. She searched for something—anything—that would get her out of these cuffs. A paper clip. A nail. Maybe if she vaulted herself backward, the wood chair would break enough for her to get free. She was on her own. No matter how many times he’d been there before, Braxton couldn’t save her now. “You can’t shut the program down. Oversight made a mistake—I made a mistake—but it has saved countless lives over the past year. It’s protected this country, stopped terrorists. Just as you have.”
“And how many more families will be destroyed—families like Justin’s—because of your mistakes?” Waters wrapped gloved hands around the back of the chair and shoved her forward until her knees hit the desk. The former agent gripped the back of her neck tight and thrust her over the keyboard. “You built the security for Oversight. You’re going to tear it down.”
Elizabeth clenched her teeth against the stiffness in her neck. She pushed back, but Waters was so much stronger. And not handcuffed to a chair. A rush of dizziness distorted her vision. No, no, no, no. Not now. The sinking sensation that accompanied her blood sugar crashing pulled her farther into the chair. She fought to breathe through the disorientation. Didn’t work. Nothing but food would combat the crash. Closing her eyes against the sudden brightness of the monitors, she dropped her head. And saw blood. The injury from the woods. Her blood pressure spiked. “My side is bleeding. My blood sugar is crashing. I need to eat. I’m no good to you in shock.”
He dropped his grip on her neck and instead replaced it by pointing the gun at her left temple. He pressed so hard the steel cut into her skin, but she wouldn’t disable the program. Not when the safety of an entire country had been put on the line. “Surprise me.”
She bit her lower lip to distract herself from the crushing weight behind her sternum and the pain in her ribs. Nobody was coming to save her. She had to save herself. But she couldn’t even do that if she was cuffed to this damn chair. Her senses had started adjusting to the surrounding darkness. There had to be something in this room she could use as a weapon. “If you want me to shut down the program, you’re going to have to uncuff me.”
“I’ve read your file, Elizabeth. I’ve watched you for months.” He centered her in front of the nearest monitor. “I know what you can do with your hands. You tell me the second password, and I’ll enter it.”
He wanted to do this the hard way? Fine. “I told you before when you were threatening to throw me over a cliff. Even if you enter the password, there isn’t only one level of security. Oversight doesn’t work like that. I made sure no one person could take control of the system. So unless you have a retinal scanner in this dump, you’re not getting into my program.”
“Then I have no use for you.” His rough exhale hit her collarbones as Waters compressed the gun’s safety button off. “Blackmailing your bodyguard to get the intel I needed on Oversight was worth less trouble than you are. I’m done with you.”
Blackmail?
“You don’t have to do this. Justin wouldn’t want this. His wife and those boys wouldn’t want this.” This wasn’t how she’d die. Not after everything she’d been through the last five days. Not after losing the only man she’d ever wanted to spend the rest of her life with, the man who’d never get to meet his daughter. Her eyes burned. From the moment Braxton had shaken her hand at their first meeting to the moment he’d sacrificed himself for her to get away in his own front yard, he’d protected her. He’d stood by her side. He’d given her a glimpse of the family she’d always wanted. Needed.
“Guess we’ll never know, will we?” he asked.
Elizabeth licked at her lips one more time. She might’ve already lost Braxton. She wasn’t about to lose their baby. “Please, I’m pregnant.”
The gun faltered in Waters’s hand. “That’s not possible. I’ve been following you for months. I’ve read your medical records.”
“Then you suck at your job. Otherwise you would’ve noticed me walking into my doctor’s office last week.” She scanned the room a second time, locking on a blue-and-white pen on the floor to her right. She could do a lot of damage with a pen, but getting her hands on it was a different skill set entirely. Pressing her toes into the floor, she tipped the chair’s front legs back a few centimeters at most. She didn’t dare look at Waters’s face. Any sudden movement on her part could force him to pull the trigger. But if she could walk out of this unscathed, she’d take the risk. “You hijacked the feeds to an all-seeing program. Review the records again. I’m sure they’re updated by now.”
“You’re lying.” Keeping the gun aimed at her head, the former agent rounded into her vision. Bruising darkened the shadows beneath his eyes where she’d clocked him with the handle of his gun on Seward Highway, and a small bit of her hoped it hurt like hell. But then those dark eyes centered on her, and everything inside her went cold. “At this point, Elizabeth, I think you’ll say anything to stay alive, but you can’t get out of this. You’re going to die today.”
“No, I’m not.” She kicked against the floor, every muscle in her body going rigid as the chair tipped backward. The room blurred a split second before she hit the hardwood. Cracking wood claimed her attention, but not for long. Pain stretched up her crushed arms as she rolled from the debris, her wrists still cuffed. She wrapped her fingers around the pen and pushed the sharp end into the keyhole. Slim chance this would work, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. For Braxton. For her baby.
“Clever.” Liam Waters stood over her, gun raised. Slipping his finger over the trigger, he widened his stance. “But, tell me, honestly, how far did you think you could run this time?”
“Who said I’d try to run?” The cuff loosened from around her casted wrist, and Elizabeth shot her foot upward. Connecting with Waters’s gun, she sent it flying across the room. The gun discharged, the bullet arching wide, forcing her to cover her head with her arms in an empty attempt to avoid being shot.
With her next breath, Waters straddled her midsection and crushed the oxygen from her lungs. He pinned her against the floor. “Why won’t you just die?”
The door behind her slammed open. “Get your damn hands off of her.”
* * *
BRAXTON FLEW OVER LIZ, tackling the former CIA operative to the floor. Monitors on the desk shook from the quake then toppled face-first around them as he pulled his elbow back. Glass and metal hit the hardwood, but nothing would distract him from finishing the job. Not this time.
“How many times do I have to kill you before it sticks?” Waters slammed an elbow into his face and twisted out of Braxton’s reach.
Shooting his hand out, Braxton caught the edge of the shooter’s suit jacket, but not enough to pull the bastard back. The sound of tearing fabric drowned the pounding of his pulse behind his ears. Waters went for one of the largest monitors, hauling it over his head.
Every stitch in his body protested as Braxton rolled out of the way and shot to his feet. He grabbed Waters by the arm and whirled him into the nearest wall. Adrenaline sang through his veins, blocking out the pain of his injuries. It wouldn’t last long, but he’d sure as hell make the most of it. Shifting his weight back as Waters swung a right hook, Braxton kicked out the operative’s knee and followed it up with a punch to the gut. “No one hurts my family and gets away with it.”
Waters stared up at him. Blood dripped from the former agent’s lip. Swiping it off with the back of his hand, the SOB cracked a smile. Then Waters swung up. Flesh met bone and Braxton spun backward, barely catching a glimpse of Liz as she worked to free herself from three different sets of cuffs. He landed face-first against the floor. Footsteps echoed off the hardwood. “Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.”
Liz’s gaze shot up, widened at the sight of Waters closing in, then homed in on the gun against the far wall. Braxton could tell from the determination in her eyes she was going to make a run for it.
Waters lunged as Liz pushed off the floor. He got there first, wrapping his hand around the gun and swinging it wide toward her. Braxton launched to his feet, but not before Liz caught Waters’s wrist in one hand and pushed her casted hand up under his jawline. Shoving him back, she wedged the former agent between herself and the wall, but there was nowhere else to go.
“Liz!” Braxton took a step forward then collapsed to one knee. The stitches in his thigh had torn. Blood seeped through his jeans. Damn it.
She let go of the former agent’s throat then slammed her cast against the gun, dislodging Waters’s hold on the Glock. And hell if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. But Liz wasn’t fast enough. With one blow to the face, she went down. She hit the ground hard, a groan filling his ears, and nothing but rage consumed him.
Braxton closed the space between him and Waters in two steps and lunged feet first. His boots connected with the shooter’s sternum, and they collapsed to the floor. Air stuck in his lungs, but he barely had time to stand before Waters came around. Braxton stumbled, shooting his hand out toward the dropped gun. The metal slipped against his palm. He tightened his grip and swung the gun around.
But Waters had the bigger card to play.
With a simple white-and-blue pen.
Crouching over Liz, the operative held the pen to her jugular, waiting for Braxton to make his next move. Waters’s shoulders rose and fell in rapid succession in rhythm to his strained breathing. If Braxton had to guess, the operative had broken a rib or two, but he hadn’t let it slow him down. It’d take more than a few broken bones to finish this. “I’ve spent the last year waiting for this moment. You’re not going to stop me from getting my partner’s family the justice they deserve, Levitt.”
Blood spread through his T-shirt, soaking the waistband of his jeans, but Braxton pushed the distraction to the back of his mind. Hell, he’d tear every stitch a hundred times if it meant protecting the woman he loved. Screw the pain. Screw the NSA. He’d left Liz behind once. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. He wasn’t going anywhere. Not without her. Lifting the gun, he centered the former CIA operative in his sights. Liz had stopped him from killing the bastard once, and it’d been a mistake. “It’s over, Waters. Liz is mine. And I don’t share.”
Swaying, the former agent dropped his chin but only fanned his fingers around the pen. “I should’ve killed you four months ago when I had the chance.”
“Yeah.” Braxton held the gun steady, ready for the last round. Liam Waters wasn’t leaving this room alive. Killers like him didn’t give up easily. The former CIA agent would keep coming after her. And Liz—and their baby—deserved a life better than one on the run. He could give them that. “You should have. But if you make another move, I’ll make damn sure you never get back up.”
“Let’s see who’s faster.” Waters raised his hand, ready to plunge the pen into Liz’s throat as she lay unconscious, and Braxton pulled the trigger. One bullet ripped through the operative’s shoulder but didn’t bring Waters down. He fired again, the gun kicking back in his hand. The second shot hit center mass. The shooter held his arm up but dropped the pen. Collapsing to the floor, Liam Waters stared at the peeling yellow ceiling, one hand pressed against the wound beneath his sternum.
“I feel like you should’ve known not to bring a pen to a gunfight.” Braxton approached slowly, heart threatening to break apart his rib cage. He kicked the pen out of Waters’s reach as the shooter dived into unconsciousness, head slumping to the side. The operative’s chest stilled, one last exhale reaching Braxton’s ears.
Liam Waters was dead.
Dropping to his knees, he framed Liz’s face with one hand, sliding the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “Liz.”
Her resulting groan set every cell in his body on fire. She swung her head toward him and cracked her eyelids. Deep brown eyes locked on him, and his world shattered. Hell, they’d survived. Together. The nightmare was over. And they—relief coursed through him—they could get their lives back. They could start their family. If she’d have him. Brushing her hair behind her ear, he studied her for any other injuries. “Can you move?”
“My blood sugar...” Her hands shook as she wrapped them around the back of his neck. “I haven’t eaten.”
“Here.” He set the Glock on the floor then reached into his back pocket and pulled out two granola bars. Unwrapping both, he dumped the broken pieces into his palm and lifted her against him. “It’s not much, but I brought something in case you crashed again.”
She closed her eyes, chewing methodically, and sank against him. “You really know the way to a woman’s heart.”
“Just yours.” A smile pulled at one corner of his mouth. He held on to her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. A combination of lavender and chocolate overwhelmed his senses, and he breathed in as much as he could. “I got you. You’re safe now.”
A gunshot exploded in his left ear.
Liz arched against him, mouth open, eyes wide, but her gasp said it all.
She’d been hit.
Tearing her away from him, Braxton spun. He reached for the gun in Waters’s hand. The bastard wasn’t dead yet, barely keeping himself upright. Braxton wrapped his fingers around the barrel and wrenched it from the SOB’s grip, turning the gun on the shooter. Braxton pulled the trigger. One shot. Waters’s head snapped back, a bullet between the eyes. The body dropped hard. And the threat was neutralized.
A sharp inhale brought him back into the present. Braxton lunged. On her stomach, sprawled across the hardwood, Liz didn’t move. He reached for her, lifted her upper body into his lap. The bullet hadn’t come out her chest. The damn thing was still inside her. No. He would not lose her. Not after everything they’d been through.
“It burns.” A tear streaked down the side of her face into her hairline. Her throat worked to swallow as blood rushed over his fingers. She fought to speak, licking her lips, her gaze heavier than he’d ever seen before. Streaks of blood coated her tongue. Hell, the bullet had punctured one of her lungs. Her breath shortened. “Braxton...”
“I’ve got you, Sprinkles. Stay still. I’m not going to lose you again. I’m never leaving you again.” The peeling walls blurred in his vision as Braxton hoisted her into his arms and encased her against him. He carried her out of the room as fast as he could. Footsteps echoed up the second level as Vincent and Elliot raced to intercept. He’d had the private investigator inform the rest of the Blackhawk Security team about this property owned under one of Waters’s aliases before Braxton had raced from the hospital. He owed them his life. Stairs jostled their descent, and he tightened his hold on her to keep the slug from shifting deeper. The bullet was too close to her spine. He nodded back toward the room upstairs to direct the team to Waters’s body, his focus entirely on the woman in his arms. The love of his life. The mother o
f his child. Neither Vincent nor Elliot bothered examining the crime scene. Instead, they followed Braxton downstairs to the waiting ambulance. “Stay awake, baby. I have more granola bars where these came from. And there might even be some ice cream and rainbow-colored sprinkles left over for you. But you’ve got to stay awake, okay?”
“There sure as hell...better be.” Liz went slack in his arms as she gave in to unconsciousness.
Chapter Fifteen
Searing heat enveloped her scalp as Elizabeth held herself under the shower spray. Her tailbone had been bruised, if not cracked. The laceration in her ribs from the woods was almost too much to bear. Luckily, surgeons had been able to remove the bullet from her back and patch her lung. But, hell, it felt good to be in her own house. She didn’t even want to look at the rest of her body. She washed two-day hospital grunge off, the simple idea of soap helping her muscles relax. As did the gun sitting on the small bathroom sink to her right. Cold air rushed against her as she stepped from the shower and tied a towel around herself.
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