by Janie Crouch
Derek rushed over to Molly, putting her directly behind him as Liam wrestled with Belisario. Derek had his weapon raised and Belisario in his sights. He could take the shot and finish Belisario right here. Rid the world of a scumbag.
He had done it many other times with much less reason than he had right now. Judge, jury, executioner.
But he thought of Molly, could feel her hand tucked inside the waistband of his jeans again like she had in the jungle. She trusted him to do the right thing.
“Belisario, put your hands up right now, or so help me God, I will shoot you.”
Belisario stopped fighting Liam. He turned and looked at Derek with such a look of malevolence that Derek was sure he was making a mistake by letting the man live. He would have to spend the rest of his life protecting Molly from this possible threat. It would never go away.
But Derek realized he was okay with that. If it meant proving to her—hell, proving to himself—that he wasn’t the man he used to be, then it was worth it.
Derek lowered his weapon and brought Molly around to his side, careful not to jar her broken finger, as Liam began reading Belisario his rights. Liam was getting his handcuffs out when the henchman Derek had knocked unconscious began waking up and moaned on the ground. Liam’s attention was divided for just a moment as he looked over at the man.
Belisario took advantage of it.
He shoved Liam away and grabbed for the gun on the table next to him. He swung it up straight toward Molly.
Derek didn’t hesitate. He put three bullets through Belisario’s chest. The man died with the same look of evil intent that he’d had when he’d lived.
Derek didn’t regret the kill. Not for a split second. The man he had been, the man he was now and the man he would be in the future would always be willing to do whatever he had to do to keep Molly safe.
No matter what.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You’re a moron, you know.” Molly rolled her eyes at Derek.
Derek just sat in the chair across from her hospital bed, holding the gauze against his arm where the bullet had grazed him. After their arrival at the emergency room, Molly had insisted that Derek be treated first. She wasn’t a medical doctor, but she knew that his bleeding wound needed more immediate care than her broken pinky. Her finger wouldn’t get any worse, unlike what his loss of blood could become.
But he’d refused to let any doctors see him until her finger was taken care of.
So now they were waiting for the numbing to take place in Molly’s finger so the doctor could reset it. He said it was a clean break, would just need a splint. No permanent damage. Derek’s wound, after a quick glance, had also been deemed of the impermanent kind, although it would still need bandaging.
“I’m glad you killed him.”
Derek shrugged. “Once he pointed that gun at you he was a dead man.”
Molly reached her uninjured hand out to him and he took it. “I’m sorry you had to do it, though. I don’t want the taking of another life weighing on you.”
“You know, before he pointed the gun at you, when he and Liam were fighting, I could’ve taken the shot. It would’ve been a clean shot, Liam was far enough out of the way. And I thought about it. After everything that had happened, nobody at Omega would’ve questioned it.”
She ran her fingers over his. “Why didn’t you?”
Derek stood up and came to stand in front of her where she sat on the hospital bed. He linked their fingers together so that their palms were against each other. “I realized that what you said yesterday was true. The man I was—the decisions I made in the past—they don’t define who I am now. I lived in a dark world. But I don’t have to stay there anymore.”
Molly brought their joined hands to her lips and kissed his fingers. “Well, I’m glad that I never have to worry about him or any of his goons being inside my apartment ever again. So thank you.”
The doctor came in and reset Molly’s finger, a painless process due to the anesthesia. Not long after, Derek’s wound was cleaned and properly bandaged. After the paperwork, they were deemed clear to leave.
“I don’t have a house to go home to now,” Molly said as they walked out of the hospital in a much less clandestine fashion as when they had snuck out just forty-eight hours ago.
“Yeah, I told Liam to come in loud and hot, but I was envisioning him breaking through the door himself with some uniformed cops, not tearing down your entire dining room with his car.”
“I guess I need to check into a hotel or something.” Molly hadn’t really gotten that far in her thinking. Now that the danger had passed and she wasn’t in pain, Molly was bone-weary exhausted.
“How about you let me do something I should’ve done after our night together three years ago? Hell, before our night together three years ago.”
“What’s that?”
“Move you in with me. Court you. Win your heart. Not necessarily in that order.”
Molly smiled up at him as he turned her around and leaned her against the car. “You’ve already done one of those things. A long time ago. The other two, I think, can be arranged.”
Derek looked down at her in the way she had always dreamed of having him look at her. “You’re the strongest person I know, Molly. I love you.”
He kissed her.
“But you’re still in trouble for locking me in the clean room.”
Molly wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, too. And maybe I can find a way to make it up to you.”
“Yes. But after you rest. You need some sleep.” He trailed a finger down her cheek.
“Okay, but it involves me wearing a lab coat and heels.” She got in the car as he opened the door for her. “And nothing else.”
She saw his eyes bug out and his whole body jerk. She smiled wickedly back up at him. He made her feel wicked and sexy and smart and strong.
He leaned down and kissed her, taking her breath away. “Okay, maybe sleep can wait.”
* * * * *
Look for more books in Janie Crouch’s
OMEGA SECTOR: CRITICAL RESPONSE
miniseries in 2016.
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Keep reading for an excerpt from EXPOSED by Carla Cassidy
(Part 1 of TOUGH JUSTICE).
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Can’t get enough of authors like Kendra Elliot & Tess Gerritsen?
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TOUGH JUSTICE
Justice is worth every sacrifice
A brand-new 8-part reading experience!
FBI Agent Lara Grant has finally put her life as an undercover operative behind her and started a new assignment in New York City. But her past and present collide and become ever more twisted as a spate of murders send a message that is cruelly, chillingly personal …
Tough Justice: Exposed (Part 1 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy
Tough Justice: Watched (Part 2 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell
Tough Justice: Burned (Part 3 of 8) by Carol Ericson
Tough Justice: Trapped (Part 4 of 8) by Gail Barrett
Tough Justice: Twisted (Part 5 of 8) by Gail Barrett
Tough Justice: Ambushed (Part 6 of 8) by Carol Ericson
Tough Justice: Betrayed (Part 7 of 8) by Tyler Ann Snell
Tough Justice: Hunted (Part 8 of 8) by New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy
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TOUGH JUSTICE
Episode One
Exposed
Prologue
The ledge outside of the tenth floor window of the hotel had a beautiful view of Central Park. It was also dangerously narrow and covered with pigeon crap.
A cold late September breeze sliced through FBI Special Agent Lara Grant as she stepped out of the window of room 1021 and onto the ledge.
She leaned with her back against the window frame and eyed the man who sat on the ledge about five feet to her right. She shouldn’t be here. She’d been in the middle of a meet and greet with her new unit when the call had come in. Talking down potential jumpers wasn’t in her new job description, but the man had asked for her specifically by name.
She had no idea who he was, had never seen him before in her life. It was nine-thirty in the morning, and the last place she wanted to be was on a breathtakingly small ledge trying to stop a stranger from committing a very public and messy suicide.
“Bad day?” she asked.
“Bad life,” he replied. He didn’t look at her but, rather, stared straight ahead. “Are you FBI Agent Lara Grant?”
“You asked for me and here I am. What’s your name?” she asked. Despite the coolness of the day, his forehead shone with perspiration. She tried to gauge how best to connect with him. What persona could she pull out of her professional hat to get him down to safety? Tough talk or sweet and honeyed? Too soon for her to tell.
“Sean.” He leaned over and looked down below where Lara knew the NYPD had gathered, along with a growing crowd of looky-loos and local reporters.
“Sean what?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters now.” His voice held a weary hopelessness that shot tension through Lara.
It had been her experience that there were two types of people who crawled out on a high ledge and threatened to jump. The first were the people who wanted drama and were usually easily talked down from a window or a bridge.
The second were the serious ones, people who were more than willing to take the plunge to end their lives. Her initial observation was that Sean was dead serious.
“What’s going on today, Sean?” She kept her voice conversational and nonthreatening.
“I just can’t take it anymore.”
“Take what?” Lara made no move toward him. Her job was to keep him talking until a team on the ground got her some personal information about him that she could hopefully use to get him off the ledge and to safety.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You obviously thought I would. You asked for me specifically to come here and talk to you.” She could hear the crowd below now, some asshole yelling “jump.”
Sean wasn’t a small man. Despite his seat on the ledge, he appeared tall and muscular; but as he looked at her, there was the darkness of impending death in his eyes. “I was wrong. I thought you might be the one to understand everything, but nobody will.”
“Try me,” she replied softly. “Talk to me, Sean.” Sweet and honeyed instinctively felt right for now.
He shook his head, closed his eyes and leaned back against the building.
“Sean, at least tell me your last name. It doesn’t seem fair that you know mine, and I don’t know yours.”
“Dunst. I’m Sean Dunst, and I deserve to die.”
“Sean Dunst,” she repeated. “It’s nice to meet you.” Lara was wired and knew an officer on the ground could hear what she said. With his full name they could now hopefully get her some information that might be useful.
Another cold gust of wind whipped around the building. “It’s freezing out here, Sean. Why don’t you come inside where it’s nice and warm and we can talk?”
He shook his head and didn’t reply.
For the next three hours he refused to speak. Lara kept up a running conversation in an effort to make a connection. Her legs shook from the effort of balancing on the ledge. In her long-sleeved black T-shirt and jeans she wasn’t dressed for the wind. She fought against shivers that threatened to throw off her balance and send her crashing to the ground below.
It would be just her luck to have survived everything she had in the past to meet her end here and now because of some screwed-up guy on a ledge.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry, Sean. I skipped breakfast this morning, and I’ll bet you didn’t eat, either. Why don’t we order up some room service with a pot of hot coffee, and we can talk inside,” she said, and still he didn’t reply.
What was taking so damn long? Why hadn’t anyone whispered in her ear some information that would aid her in getting this guy back inside and down to safety? This needed to end.
“I’ve done things...terrible things,” he said, finally breaking his long, agonizing silence.
“Haven’t we all?”
“Not like this.” He began to cry. Not silent, seeping tears, but, rather deep, ugly cries. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, snot bubbling out of his nose with the force of his hysteria.
“I’m sure things aren’t as bad as you think,” Lara replied. At least he was talking again.
“You can’t understand. Nobody can. I’ve done horrible things.” He swiped at his nose with the back of his long sleeve and looked at her. “I need to be forgiven.”
She was cold and tired and starting to get a little pissed off. “I can’t forgive you for something I don’t know about. Tell me what you’ve done, and maybe you can forgive yourself.”
Her earpiece crackled and filled with a deep male voice giving her details. A nine-year-old girl named Tina. Found deceased...murdered near Dunst’s home. Primary suspect...not enough evidence to convict.
The guy on the ledge was a suspected child killer. For just a moment Lara wanted to shove him off herself. “Tell me about Tina.”
He visibly stiffened. When he looked at her again it was with knowing eyes. He’d killed the kid, and he realized now that she knew it.
“You see why I have to jump?” he asked softly. “It’s the only way out for me.”
“You’re guilty?” She held his gaze, her voice reflecting none of the revulsion that bubbled up inside her.
“Yes.” The single word tore from his lips, and his features twisted with inner torment.
Lara continued to stare at him, her face schooled to reflect nothing. “And you believe you deserve to pay?”
“Yes.” The answer was a sibilant whisper.
“Then how dare you try to take the easy way out,” she replied harshly.
She’d changed her mind. He wasn’t going to jump. She knew it with a gut instinct that had served her well over the years. If he was a serious suicide he would have already flung himself off the ledge. He wouldn’t have sat here for the hours that he had.
“Man up, Dunst,” she said, dropping the pleasant conversational tone she’d previously used. Sweet and honeyed definitely wasn’t cutting it. “You know you don’t want to jump. Come inside, and deal with whatever you need to like a man.”
It
took another long hour to finally talk him into giving himself up. She climbed back through the window, and thankfully he followed her into the upscale hotel room.
Once they were inside, she cuffed him with his wrists behind his back and then led him toward the stairs that would take them to the ground floor and into the custody of awaiting officers. Ten freaking stories, but she didn’t want to throw him into an elevator where other hotel patrons might be present despite the police effort to keep them out.
It was nearly two o’clock. Over four hours she’d wasted on this creep who had finally stopped crying and now wore a weary resignation on his face.
“Why did you ask for me?” she asked when they’d descended halfway to the ground level.
“It doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters now. My life is over.”
What did matter was that Lara was cold and tired and more than ready to put this child killer in jail. There was a special place in hell for men like him.
They reached the lobby where not a soul was present. The police would have moved everyone out in the event that things went bad.
She held Sean by the cuffs behind his back and paused to look outside of the lobby doors. It was a circus. Not only were there half a dozen NYPD cop cars, but also news vans and a throng of people held back from the entrance by some of the officers. Potential jumpers always drew a big crowd.
A rivulet of apprehension worked through her. The last thing she needed right now was for her picture to appear in any news stories.
She’d wanted...needed to stay low-profile. Dammit, this had the potential of ruining everything for her. Get a grip, she mentally commanded herself.
She straightened her shoulders and fought against a sense of dark foreboding. She had a job to do, and no matter what the consequences, she had to see it through. That’s what she did...she did her job.
Just get him into the back of one of the patrol cars and then your job here is done. You can get back to your new unit, and life will go on, she thought with determination.