Dangerous To Love

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  Then he’d left her. Sophie had been inside since then. Plenty of cars had gone up and down the street, but Sophie hadn’t stirred again.

  He crossed the street. More snow had fallen during the night, and when he reached the sidewalk, the snow crunched lightly beneath his feet. He climbed the steps leading to her place. The cold air chilled his lungs. Lex pressed the doorbell…and waited.

  Nothing.

  He pressed his finger against the doorbell again. Still no response.

  Leaning back, he peered through the window on the right. All of the lights were out in her house. Everything seemed so quiet. Empty.

  But…he’d seen Sophie go inside. She had to still be there.

  Unless she slipped away. Unless she slipped right by me and I didn’t even realize it.

  But—

  Hell, no. He was too good for that.

  Wasn’t he?

  Lex pounded on the door. “Sophie! Sophie, open up! It’s Lex Jensen. I need to talk to you!”

  * * *

  Chance parked in front of Wicked. The club looked shut down. They’d already stopped by Ethan’s home, but the door man there had sworn that Ethan wasn’t in the building.

  Since Ethan’s home-away-from-home was Wicked, Chance had headed there.

  A car was parked out front and when Chance walked by it, he pressed his hand to the hood. Still warm.

  Chance strode to the main door. Gwen was at his side. He grabbed for the handle. Locked. So Chance pounded on the door. No answer.

  But the car is still warm…so I know he’s inside.

  “I’ll go around back,” Dev said, inclining his head. “That way, we can make sure we’ve got both doors covered.”

  Chance nodded. They would be getting inside to Ethan. One way or another.

  Dev hurried away.

  Chance looked over at Gwen. She had her phone out. “Who are you—”

  The front door opened. He recognized the man standing there. It was the redheaded guy he’d met the first time he and Gwen had come to Wicked for the fucked-up, sit-down with Ethan. The man glanced nervously over his shoulder, then looked at Gwen. “You need to leave,” he said.

  Chance stepped in front of Gwen. “We need to see Ethan.”

  “Daniel, please,” Gwen said. “We have to get in there. This has to end.”

  Daniel licked his lips. “It’s not safe. I-I heard him talking. He…he’s not right.” He eased toward them. “Take her and go.”

  Chance’s body tensed. “What did you hear?”

  “I was driving him…and Sophie. He was so careful with Sophie, but…” Again, he inched closer to them. The guy’s hands were shaking. “After he left her, he lost it.” His voice was a low whisper. “He came back here, and he’s been wrecking the place.”

  Chance heard a crash from inside the building.

  Gwen gasped.

  “He’s dangerous…” Daniel’s eyes were wide. “I think…I think he wants to kill Gwen. You have to get her out of here.”

  * * *

  Sophie wasn’t answering her door. No sound at all was coming from inside her place. That shit couldn’t be good.

  Lex hurried down the steps and stalked around the side of the brownstone. He hadn’t gone far when he saw the footprints. The tracks were so clear in the snow—leading to the window, then leading away. More snow was expected to hit at any time, so soon those footprints would be covered, but for the moment…

  Someone went into Sophie’s house.

  He rushed to that window, leaving his own trail in the snow. The footprints he passed were big—heavy treads left from boots. The latch on the window was broken, and Lex shoved it up. “Sophie!” As soon as he opened that window, the scent of gas hit him. Bitter, like rotten eggs. “Fuck, Sophie!’ He leapt through that window and rushed into the house. A chair was overturned in her den. A lamp smashed. And Sophie was there, crumpled on the floor like a broken doll. The shattered lamp was near her shoulder and blood from a deep gash on her head had dripped onto the carpet.

  “Sophie!” He checked for her pulse. Weak, but still there. “I’m getting you out of here. You’re going to be okay.” He hoped.

  Lex lifted her into his arms, held her carefully, and moved as fast as he could for the door. That smell was overwhelming now, and he knew that whoever had knocked her out…the bastard had deliberately left a gas leak at her house.

  She could have asphyxiated in there. Or maybe the killer had planned to leave her in the house for a while, trapped, helpless, and then…he could have come back and with the flick of a match—

  Boom.

  He rushed through the front door and took her out of that house. Lex didn’t want to take any chances—if that brownstone blew, they needed to be far away from it. He rushed across the street, with Sophie still in his arms. She started to stir when they reached the other side. Her eyelashes flickered, then lifted.

  “E-Ethan…?”

  “It’s Lex.” He wanted to beat the hell out of Ethan. “It’s all right. Ethan isn’t going to hurt you again. I won’t let him.” She was so delicate. Felt so fragile in his arms.

  Sophie began to struggle in his arms. Tremors shook her and she said, “E-Ethan…Ethan…E-Ethan…” She was chanting his name again and again, and Lex lowered her to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly as he could, and he called nine-one-one. When the dispatcher came on the line, he told her to get an ambulance and cops to Sophie’s address, as fast as they damn well could. And he asked for Detective Faith Chestang. Because she needed to know what was happening.

  The next call he made was to Chance. Still holding tightly to Sophie, he had the phone at his ear. Sophie was whispering Ethan’s name as the phone rang. Once. Twice—

  * * *

  When his phone rang, Chance yanked it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Lex. He answered immediately even as he turned to face Gwen. “Lex, look, we’ve got a problem with Ethan—”

  “He just tried to kill Sophie!” Lex’s voice snarled. “I had to carry her out of her home. He knocked her out, turned on her gas…shit, she’s bad.”

  Gwen’s eyes were full of worry as she stared at Chance.

  “All she’ll say,” Lex continued grimly, “is the bastard’s name. Over and over and—”

  The worry in Gwen’s gaze gave way to stark terror. Only she wasn’t staring straight at Chance. She was looking over his shoulder.

  “Chance, behind you!” Gwen screamed. She shoved against him, trying to knock him out of the way.

  And that was when the gunshot rang out.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gwen tried to push Chance out of the way, but he twisted his body, protecting her—damn him!—and the bullet slammed into him.

  Chance didn’t go down, though. “Run,” he told Gwen and he pushed her away. “Go!”

  He spun toward the attacker—Daniel—and she saw Chance pulling out his own weapon. He’d grabbed it from his vehicle when they’d first approached Wicked, but he’d holstered the weapon beneath his jacket. Now it was taking too long for him to get that weapon out and—

  Daniel fired again. The bullet drove into Chance’s stomach.

  “No!” Gwen screamed. She lunged forward when Chance slumped to the ground. She grabbed for him and his blood covered her hands. “Chance, no!”

  “Move away from him.” Daniel’s voice was too high, cracking with…excitement?

  Gwen put her hand over Chance’s wound. The gun had fallen from his hand when he’d slumped down. His eyes were closed but…

  He’s alive.

  “I’m not moving,” Gwen said. Dev was close by. He would’ve heard the shot. He’d be coming to help them any moment.

  “Then I’ll shoot you right here.”

  She glared up at Daniel. He had his gun aimed right at her head.

  “And after you’re dead, I’ll put a bullet in Chance Valentine’s heart. He might be able to survive the injuries he has so far…but a bullet to
the heart?” He laughed. “Dead fucking man.”

  Gwen pressed down harder, trying to stop that blood flow.

  “Come inside with me, and I’ll leave him. Give him a fifty-fifty shot of survival.” Daniel’s lips twisted in a cold grin. “I never cared about him. He doesn’t matter. You matter. Ethan matters.”

  Her body was numb with cold.

  “Move now, or I will kill him.”

  Her fingers slid away from Chance. I love you. He knew that, didn’t he? He had to know, he had to—

  Chance’s eyes opened. “Gwen, no.” He reached for her.

  But Daniel yanked Gwen to her feet. He locked one arm around her neck and put the gun to her head.

  Chance struggled to rise. To reach for the gun that had slipped from his fingers.

  Daniel kicked the weapon out of Chance’s reach.

  “You know…” Daniel’s voice actually sounded as if he were considering the situation. “I think she loved you, Valentine. Enough to die for you. Lucky sonofabitch.” Then he hauled Gwen back, pulling her inside of Wicked.

  Chance tried to crawl after them. “Gwen!”

  “I love you,” she whispered. Daniel’s hold was too strong. She was clawing at his arm, but she couldn’t break free.

  He dragged her across the threshold then slammed the door shut and locked them inside Wicked.

  “Ethan’s waiting for you,” he said, his breath blowing against her ear. “Come on…this has been such a long fucking time coming.” He was hauling her across the floor.

  She kicked back at him, trying to do as much damage to him as she could. Chance was safe—for the moment. Now she had to survive. She had to stop Daniel. She had to—

  They were now in front of the bar in Wicked. Ethan was there. Tied to a chair. Thick ropes were around his chest, his arms, and his legs. A gag had been shoved over his mouth and tied in place. Ethan’s head sagged forward, but she could see the blood sliding down his cheeks. He appeared to have been slashed across the face—one deep slash slid across his left cheek and one streaked across his right.

  Blood also soaked his shirt. Stabbed. From the look of things, he’d been stabbed again and again…

  A table had overturned next to him, and she remembered the crash she’d heard when she and Chance had been outside Wicked, when Daniel had been feeding them that line of bull about Ethan wrecking the place in a fury. Now she realized that Ethan must have managed to push over that table. He’d probably been trying to alert them, to get help—

  It’s too late for help now.

  A low whimper slipped from her because of the obvious abuse Ethan had endured.

  “Not so handsome anymore, is he?” Daniel asked. “Not the fucking perfect son anymore.”

  Ethan’s head tipped back. He stared at Gwen with dawning horror in his eyes. He twisted in his bonds.

  “Before I kill you…” Now Gwen realized that Daniel was speaking to Ethan, not her. “I thought you’d like to see Gwen once more. You know…to tell her good-bye.”

  Ethan’s eyes were frantic.

  “After that, I’m going to kill her.” Daniel laughed. A truly chilling sound. “I’ll kill her, then you…big brother.”

  Gwen shook her head. Had he just said…brother?

  * * *

  Chance grabbed the gun. His fingers were soaked with blood so the gun nearly slipped away, but he just tightened his hold on it. He rose slowly, fighting the pain and the nausea that rolled through him. One bullet was in his back. One in his gut.

  The bastard should have killed him. Because only death would have stopped Chance.

  I’m coming for you, Gwen. One step. Two. He pushed the pain back. Focused on her. He reached out for the door.

  Locked.

  Like that would slow him down.

  He pointed that gun and fired. The lock didn’t give so he fired again. If he had to, he’d claw down that door because he was getting inside. Chance was getting to Gwen.

  I love you.

  He’d heard those words from her. Seen the love in her eyes. Chance would kill the fool who’d threatened her. Kill him.

  The lock gave way and Chance shoved open the door.

  * * *

  At the thunder of gunfire, Daniel spun around. “What in the hell?” His hold eased on Gwen as he surged toward the dying blast.

  That moment of confusion was just what Gwen needed. She tore free of him and raced toward the nearest chair.

  “No!” Daniel lunged after her. “Stop!”

  Gwen threw a chair at him even as he fired. She felt the burn of the bullet graze over her arm. She grabbed for another chair. She lifted it—

  His gun was aimed at her again. Pointing at her heart.

  “Devlin is coming,” she said, her words rushing out quickly as she kept that chair up, her only weapon. “He was out back. He’s the one who—”

  Daniel laughed. “The dark-haired one? Yeah, I already took him out.”

  Gwen shook her head.

  “I used my knife on him, so you wouldn’t hear the attack. Did it nice and fast. I left him in a pool of blood…”

  Ethan muttered frantically behind his gag.

  Daniel’s gaze flew toward him. “What? It’s your fault. It’s all your fault. You’re the one dear old Dad chose. He lived with you and your bitch of a mother, but you weren’t grateful. He turned his back on me and my mom, but you still hated him. You still—”

  Gunfire. Thundering. Erupting. Slamming into Daniel and he jerked like a marionette on a string. He tried to turn toward the shooter, but Gwen slammed her chair into him. Daniel fell, and his gun slid across the floor. Gwen scrambled after it. She grabbed the weapon, fumbled, aimed it, and saw…

  Chance stood just a few feet away. Bloody. Swaying a little. And with his weapon still up and pointed toward Daniel.

  Gwen ran to Chance. She locked her arms around him and held on to him as tightly as she could. Tears were filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Chance was alive. Strong. With her. He was—

  Falling.

  She couldn’t stop him. They both crashed to the floor. Frantic, she yelled, “Chance!”

  There was so much blood. Too much. She looked behind him and saw that he’d left a trail of blood as he walked into the room.

  “Can’t…feel legs now…” Chance whispered.

  Her heart nearly stopped.

  She grabbed his hand.

  “Can’t…feel you…so cold…”

  No. No! “Chance, please, please don’t do this. I love you!”

  His lips lifted, in just the faintest smile. The smile that had stolen her heart so long ago. “Always…love you…do anything…for you…”

  Gwen could hear the scream of sirens. The police were coming. Someone must have reported the shots. Police—and an ambulance? “Help is almost here. We’re both going to make it. We’ll be okay.”

  Ethan was muttering, growling behind his gag, but she didn’t look at him. She couldn’t look away from Chance.

  Even though his eyes were closing.

  “No!” Gwen yelled. “You say you’ll do anything for me? Then don’t die! Don’t you dare die! You live with me. You live for me!”

  His eyelids flickered.

  “Please don’t leave me,” Gwen said. Her hands were pressing to the wound over his stomach. She had to stop the blood flow. Had to help him. Nothing else mattered. Only Chance. Only him. She kept talking to him. Kept applying pressure and the minutes seemed to crawl by. The sirens were louder. Closer. Help had to be nearly there. Hurry, hurry, hurry—

  “Drop the weapon!”

  That was Faith’s voice.

  Gwen looked up, blinking past her tears. Faith was a few feet away. The detective’s gun was in her hand and she was pointing it at Gwen.

  I don’t have a weapon. I had to put it down so I could help Chance. I had to—

  “I will kill you,” Faith said, voice fierce.

  She isn’t talking to me.

  Gwen glanced over
her shoulder. Daniel was on his knees. He had a knife in his hand, and he’d been heading toward Gwen.

  Ethan was still snarling behind his gag.

  Uniformed cops raced in behind Faith.

  Daniel dropped the knife.

  “Good move, asshole,” Faith said. The cops closed in on Daniel.

  Gwen looked back down at Chance. His eyes were open. On her. “Chance?” Don’t go! Don’t!

  “Anything…” he told her, his voice a bare breath of sound. “For you.” His fingers slid toward her. “Anything…”

  Medics rushed in and they pushed Gwen back. She watched as the team swarmed into action. “Devlin,” Gwen said, voice sounding like a stranger’s to her own ears. Too cold. Too hollow. But she had to tell Faith about the other man. “He’s out back. Daniel said he attacked him. Dev needs help, too!”

  Faith motioned with her left hand and cops rushed toward the back of Wicked.

  When the medics hoisted Chance on a stretcher, Gwen raced after them. Snow was falling outside. A light covering, reminding her of so many other times.

  Reminding her of a kiss with Chance, a kiss hot enough to melt that snow.

  “Gwen!” Someone grabbed her arm. No, not just someone. She shook past the fog of memories that had surrounded her and found herself gazing into her father’s frantic eyes. He stared at her a moment, almost as if he were afraid to believe she was really there, in front of him, then he yanked her against his chest and held her in a grip that hurt. “I was afraid,” he told her, voice gruff, “so afraid I’d get here and you’d be dead. When Faith called me…she was already racing over here and I didn’t think either of us would get here in time.”

  Her tears fell harder. “Dad…it’s Chance. He was shot protecting me.” She pulled away from him and saw that Chance had already been loaded into the back of the ambulance. “I have to go with him. I can’t lose him!”

  Her father glanced over at the ambulance. Swore. And then he was running with her to the back of that open vehicle. Gwen tried to jump in the back, but the EMT waved her away. “No, ma’am,” he said, “this man is critical. If you aren’t family—”

  “She is his family!” Her father shouted. “She’s the woman he loves and you’re letting her back there or your ass will be on the street next week looking for a new job.” He puffed out his chest. “Son, you don’t know what kind of hell you’re—”

 

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