by Lisa Childs
Parker picked up his cell but hesitated over punching in Nikki’s contact. She’d promised to call him once she’d tracked down Hart. And he didn’t want to disrupt her.
But he felt compelled to send out a text to all the guards protecting Wendy. He included Hart, as well. Maybe his gut had misled him about Hart. Maybe he was fine and just out of cell phone coverage.
When he got within range again, he would receive the text Parker sent out to the others.
Be on full alert. Met with Mills. Certain he has an attack planned...
Would full alert be enough? Would Payne Protection be able to save Wendy?
* * *
Wendy glanced down at Nikki’s cell as the text flashed on the screen. What did it mean?
Who did he think Luther was going to attack? Her or one of the others? Everyone involved with the trial had been threatened, not just her.
Hell, even someone not involved had been threatened. The judge’s daughter. Maybe Luther thought he could use Bella Holmes against the judge to get the evidence thrown out. If that was going to happen, then he didn’t need to take Wendy out.
Because she didn’t know for certain that warning was about her, she didn’t draw Nikki’s attention to it. She didn’t want to call Nikki’s attention from her laptop, where she worked feverishly to find Hart’s whereabouts.
That was more important—making sure that Hart was okay. She’d thought she was doing the right thing, for him and his daughter, when she’d asked for Parker to reassign him.
But at least when he’d been protecting her, he’d had backup. There were always other bodyguards around. Now he was off somewhere on his own, alone and vulnerable.
And even if he didn’t get hurt protecting her, Wendy would still hold herself responsible. She should have figured out sooner that the shooter at the hotel hadn’t been firing at her.
He’d been aiming at Hart. If he’d been working for Luther, he would have taken a shot at her—no matter how badly he might have been hurt from Hart shooting him. Because nobody dared to cross or disappoint Luther Mills.
So if he wasn’t working for Luther, who the hell was he working for? Hart had made a lot of arrests before he’d left River City PD. He’d probably made more than his share of enemies, more than just Luther Mills.
So who was after him? Had they got him?
Wendy’s heart and head pounded with fear. Despite Parker’s warning text, that fear wasn’t for her own safety. She was worried only about Hart and about what losing him would do to his young daughter.
And to her...
She loved him. So much...
Even though he didn’t return her feelings, she should have told him, so that he would have known why she’d no longer wanted him protecting her. Because now she might never get the chance to tell him how she felt...
Wendy didn’t have that sixth sense the Payne family seemed to possess, but she just knew that Hart was not okay.
* * *
Hart was not okay. He was furious. And disgusted. Whoever the hell was shooting at him was not the person who’d fired at him outside the hotel. Of course, he’d already figured it out—from the poor job the guy had done tailing him—that this was not the same person who’d driven the white van.
That man had obviously been a professional.
So what had happened to him?
If someone wanted Hart dead, that was the person who could have done the job. Not this one...
Hart waited until the dull click of the empty chamber before he stepped out of the trees that had absorbed all the bullets fired at him. With a weary sigh, he pointed his gun at the shooter. He didn’t have time for this—whatever the hell this was...
“Put it down,” he ordered the man. “On the ground.”
The guy jumped at Hart’s sudden appearance and the weapon slipped through his grasp. He glanced up at Hart and the hood of his sweatshirt fell back.
Hart gasped in surprised recognition.
“Bruno?” He’d only met the Frenchman once when Monica had brought her fiancé with her when she’d said goodbye to Felicity. His ex had chosen Bruno over her daughter. But then, she’d never paid Felicity much attention anyway. “What the hell are you trying to do?”
The man’s face flushed with anger, his small dark eyes wild with desperation.
Hart reached out, grasped one of the man’s thin shoulders and shook him. He asked again. “What the hell are you doing?”
Bruno Lemieux was no killer.
“I want you gone!” Bruno exclaimed.
“Gone?” Hart repeated. None of this made any sense.
It definitely hadn’t been Bruno who’d planted the bomb or tried to drive him off the road with the white van.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Bruno said. All the anger and frustration was his now. “I hired someone. He was supposed to take care of you. But after you shot him, he quit.”
Wendy had seen the blood and directed a tech to collect it even though she’d wanted to test it herself. Hart probably should have let her process that scene. Maybe she could have figured all this out, because Bruno wasn’t doing a very damn good job of explaining anything to Hart.
“Or he tried to quit...” the Frenchman murmured, as if he didn’t know what he was saying anymore.
Hart had a sick feeling that he was wrong. Maybe Bruno Lemieux was a killer now. He must have killed the man he’d hired to kill Hart. But why the hell did he want Hart gone?
“So I have to get rid of you,” Bruno continued. He moved as if to reach for the gun he’d dropped. Even though it was empty, Hart kicked it away into the brush.
“Why do you want to get rid of me?” Hart asked him. “I have nothing to do with you and your wife.”
“You have everything,” Bruno said, and his voice shook with frustration. “You have her daughter.”
Felicity was everything. Or she had been until Wendy had entered Hart’s life—and his heart. How the hell had he thought he wouldn’t be able to fall for her? She was so amazing and not just at her job and with her family but with Felicity, too. She already had a better connection with the child than her own mother had.
So what the hell was Bruno babbling about?
“Monica is miserable without her,” the guy declared.
Hart snorted. “Yeah, right...”
“She misses her and wants her back,” Bruno insisted. “But she said there is no way you would ever let her even have visitation with her daughter. So that is why you have to die. So she gets full custody.”
Hart shook his head. “There is no way in hell that Monica wants full custody. She never wanted to be a mother. She never spent any time with her. Why would she want her?”
Bruno’s eyes blurred with confusion. “But that is what she said...”
“To kill me?”
Monica hadn’t been angry with him. In fact, she’d acted like she pitied him for having to be a full-time father. She wouldn’t have wanted him dead because then she would have to actually take responsibility for her child.
Bruno shook his head. “She said that is why she keeps going off by herself. She needs to be alone to nurse her lonely heart.”
Realization dawned and Hart began to laugh.
The smaller man bristled. “You think it’s funny that she hurts? No wonder she left you.”
“I divorced her,” Hart corrected him. “Because she was constantly having affairs. Monica does not go off alone to nurse her lonely heart. She goes off with whatever willing male she finds.”
Bruno shook his head, his small eyes looking even more desperate. Probably because he knew Hart spoke the truth.
“I hate to break it to you, buddy, but she’s cheating on you.”
Bruno shook his head again. It was clear that he knew; his face flushed and tears began to pool in those beady eyes.
Hart almost felt sorry for him. But not sorry enough that he didn’t slug him. When Bruno dropped unconscious to the ground, Hart shook his hand. His knuckles were probably going to swell. It had been worth it for the guy wasting his damn time—and for putting Wendy in danger.
While the hired hit man hadn’t taken that shot at her, he could have hurt her in the explosion. Or with the white van. And Luther Mills wanting her dead had already put her in enough damn danger.
Hart backtracked to his SUV. Seeing the damage to his personal vehicle made him wish he’d hit Bruno even harder. Damn idiot.
He kicked in the passenger’s window and reached inside, trying to fish out his cell phone. He needed to call someone to cart the idiot off to jail. He could have fished out Bruno’s phone and used it, but he also wanted to see who had been calling him.
When he finally snaked his cell out of the wreckage, the first thing he saw on the screen was a text.
Be on full alert. Met with Mills. Certain he has an attack planned...
Parker’s warning chilled Hart. While Bruno had sent the gunman to the hotel and had probably had him plant the bomb, too, Luther had been responsible for the attack at the Thompsons’ home.
Had he planned something like that again?
Hart shivered as he remembered how close he had come to losing everything he cared about: his daughter.
And Wendy.
Those two gunmen had made it into the house, had nearly killed her. Would she escape unscathed this time, too?
Hart had no doubt that this attack was meant to take out Wendy. After the retired lab tech had failed to find the evidence, Luther must have learned that Wendy was the only link to it. And maybe he thought killing her would eliminate the evidence, as well.
She’d assured the chief, and the assistant district attorney, that it would get to them if something happened to her.
Luther might have been willing to take the chance that wouldn’t happen, though. Or he was confident that his informants in the River City PD and in the district attorney’s office would take out the evidence once it was received.
Either way, Wendy was in danger. It didn’t matter how many bodyguards she had—Hart wanted to be there for her. To protect her...and to love her.
He’d taken off because he was afraid of getting hurt. But now he realized that nothing would cause him more pain than Wendy being hurt—or worse.
He could not lose her. Not now, when he’d finally realized how damn much he loved and needed her.
He scrambled up the bank to where Bruno had left his vehicle, engine running, on the road. He must have figured he’d be able to shoot Hart and make a fast getaway.
Hart pulled open the driver’s door to find bullets spilled across the passenger’s seat and console. No wonder it had taken the man so long to start shooting. He’d struggled to even load the gun.
If Hart left him before making sure the police arrived, Bruno might get away. But his getaway wouldn’t be fast. The guy would have to walk for miles to find any civilization. Hart would call the police once he was on his way back to River City.
And Wendy.
He only hoped that he made it in time to help, to save her if necessary, like she had just saved him. Again.
As he spun the car into a turn and headed away from the wreckage of the SUV, he looked at his call log. While some of the missed calls had been from Parker, most of them had been from Nikki, who was supposed to be protecting Wendy.
It had been that buzzing that had woken him up. If he hadn’t regained consciousness before Bruno had finished loading his gun, the guy might have actually got rid of him like he’d wanted.
Hart pressed his foot hard on the accelerator of the sedan. He could have called Nikki to check on Wendy. He could have had the female bodyguard tell Wendy that he was coming. But she’d claimed she didn’t want him to protect her anymore. So she probably wouldn’t let Nikki tell him where she was.
He needed to talk to someone who would tell him. But even once he learned her location, he knew he might not make it in time.
Only Luther knew when he’d planned his attack.
It could already be happening. And, in that case, Hart didn’t want to call and distract anyone.
Everyone needed to be focused on keeping Wendy safe.
Chapter 23
Luther glanced up at the clock on the TV room wall. It should be happening now.
It would all be over soon.
Once Wendy Thompson was dead, that evidence would show up. She was too smart to not have a plan in place in case something happened to her. She’d seen that crime scene; she knew what he did to people like Javi—people who tried to take him down. When the evidence showed up wherever she’d sent it, probably at the district attorney’s office, he would have it destroyed just like he was having her destroyed.
He started laughing, even though the show on the TV screen wasn’t the least bit funny. The show playing in Luther’s mind was, though.
It was the one in which Wendy Thompson died, along with as many of the Payne Protection Agency bodyguards as they could take out. With most of his crew either in jail or dead, he’d had to reach out to another gang—in another city. They’d needed some serious incentive to help him, though, so he’d offered one reward for taking out the evidence tech and another for every damn bodyguard who was killed.
It might wind up costing him. Big. But it would cost the Paynes a hell of a lot more.
And it would cost Wendy Thompson everything—just like he’d warned her. The self-righteous bitch should have heeded his warning.
* * *
Wendy probably should have heeded that warning from Parker. She felt a twinge of guilt for not interrupting Nikki when the text had come in from her brother. But Parker had sent it over an hour ago and nothing had happened yet.
Surely he’d just been overreacting to his meeting with Luther Mills. Maybe that Payne sixth sense wasn’t as reliable as they all believed it was. Or maybe Luther had gone after the judge’s daughter instead. Or maybe Hart was the only one in danger right now.
There could only be one reason he hadn’t made it to the safe house. Something had happened to him.
Something bad.
Her heart ached with her loss and with Felicity’s. If the little girl lost her father, she would be inconsolable.
As would Wendy...
Nikki glanced up from her computer.
Wendy’s pulse quickened and she anxiously asked, “Did you find him?”
“He’s using his personal vehicle,” Nikki reminded her. “So I had to do some motor vehicle record searches to find it and his vehicle identification number before I could hack into his GPS.”
“But you did?” Wendy asked hopefully.
Nikki nodded, but her brow was furrowed. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as if she didn’t want to share everything she’d learned.
“What is it?” Wendy asked, her hope beginning to fade at the look on her bodyguard’s beautiful face. “Tell me...”
“It recorded that it had been in an accident earlier today.”
Wendy suspected that whatever had happened had been no accident. “The guy in the white van—he must have come after Hart again.”
“It was a single-vehicle crash,” Nikki said.
So Hart had wrecked on his own? She didn’t believe it. She’d ridden with him; he was too good a driver, even when someone was trying to force him off the road.
“You know where it is, right?”
Nikki nodded.
Wendy jumped up and grabbed her jacket from where she’d draped it across the bed. “We need to go there.”
Nikki wasn’t moving.
“What?” Wendy asked because she knew there was more.
“I tapped into the GPS on his phone, too,” Nikki said. “It’s not with his
vehicle.”
Wendy’s head began to pound like her heart had already been pounding. “So maybe he got a ride with someone after his vehicle crashed—” Her heart stopped beating for a moment altogether before resuming at a frantic pace. “Or in an ambulance.”
Nikki reached for the cell phone she’d left on the table where Wendy had been sitting. She glanced at the screen. “Parker sent a warning text...”
As soon as she said it, gunfire rang out.
Outside the window, there were flashes of light. Then the window shattered, spraying glass into the room and over Nikki.
Wendy’s pang of guilt became an overwhelming stabbing sensation. “Are you okay?” she anxiously asked her.
“Get down!” Nikki shouted. If she was hurt, she didn’t betray any pain or fear as she pulled her weapon and turned toward the window, returning fire.
Wendy drew her weapon, too.
Nikki pulled back just as more gunfire exploded. Bullets came through the broken window and embedded in the wall behind Wendy.
“How the hell do they know which room we’re in?” Nikki murmured.
Wendy thought it was a rhetorical question until she saw the cell pressed to Nikki’s ear.
“Is anyone hurt in the parking lot?” the female bodyguard said into the phone. Her face was tight and pale. She was finally afraid but it wasn’t for herself.
Wendy remembered that Nikki’s husband was out there. The blond giant of a man—Lars Ecklund.
“Is he hurt?” she asked.
Nikki shook her head as she pulled the cell away from her ear. She hadn’t put it on speaker. Maybe she didn’t want Wendy to know how bad their situation was. But she knew it was bad when the auburn-haired beauty said, “We have to get the hell out of here.”
Still crouched below the window, Nikki headed toward the door. As she pulled it open, they heard the ding of the elevator and a curse slipped through the bodyguard’s lips. “Hurry!”
Wendy, crouching low, rushed into the hall with Nikki. She pulled the door shut behind her and they ran down the corridor, away from the sound of the elevator doors whooshing open. There was a stairwell at their end. Nikki pushed open those doors. But they could hear the heavy fall of footsteps on the stairs, of people coming up from below.