Magdalena collapsed, utterly spent. She stared at Law’s back. The wet shirt clung to the topography of his sculpted muscles. His torso heaved air, much like hers. A sickening whack punctuated the intruder’s death. Law turned away, plunged his hand between the wall and mattress, and recovered the holster and pistols she hadn’t seen since the previous day. He shrugged on the weapons then scrambled toward her.
His hot palm cupped her face and lifted her head from the floor. “Are you okay? Where do you hurt?” The pads of his fingers skimmed the column of her neck then ran the length of each arm in a frantic search.
Finally able to breathe without hacking, Magdalena encircled his hand in her own. “I’m fine,” she rasped. “Are you okay? Your side, did he shoot you?”
“It’s just a scratch from his buddy I met in the park. Now, tell me, where are you hurt?”
“Really, I’m fine. Just let me lie here for a few hours.”
The muscles in Law’s jaw bunched. “Sorry, tart. We have to go.” Before the words were out of his mouth he looped an arm under her back and pulled her to stand. For the briefest of seconds, she nested against his wet chest, happy for the melt of her fear-frozen core. Too soon, he stepped back and motioned just behind her with his chin. “Grab your bag.”
Law opened the closet and pulled on his jacket, despite the heat of the day. While she grabbed the satchel and swung it gingerly over one arm, careful not to jar her sore ribs, he snagged one from the closet and stuffed it with his own clothes.
“Where’s the computer,” he asked without slowing.
“Behind the panel, between the safe and wall.”
He regarded her with a balled shirt hanging from his fist. “You are bloody amazing.”
A silly smile stretched her mouth. Law shook his head and turned away. Sirens blared in the distance, stealing her respite from the emotional turmoil. Law maintained a steady pace as he secured the files, computer, and drive from their hiding spot. When he finished, he slung the bag over his shoulders and reached for her hand.
“Can you run?”
His calm assurance and tender touch gave her a sudden spike in adrenaline. “Yes.”
“Good, don’t stop until I tell you.”
They ran from the wrecked room. In the corridor, Law surprised her, taking the stairs up, instead of down. Her legs wobbled like noodles, but somehow she managed to keep them beneath her body. Five stories later they exited onto the gravel topped roof. Law continued to pound one foot before the other. Sucking breath after breath and still not getting all the air she desired, Magdalena pushed herself as hard as she ever had.
When they reached the edge, Mags tempered her speed, but Law urged her on with an unrelenting tug. She ground to a halt and her insides turned to mush as he jumped onto the ledge then stepped into nothingness.
In that second, Magdalena knew exactly what people meant when they said, “Mind fucked.” Because two and two didn’t make four and gravity didn’t plummet the man gripping her hand to the pavement below.
“It’s all right,” Law said. “It’s a metal plank about two feet wide.”
“Why the fuck can’t I see it?”
“I painted it so no one would know it was here.”
“Oh my God. Really? Who do you work for?”
Law’s lips thinned and in a flash he hopped down from the ledge then banded his arms around her legs. His shoulder pushed in at her waist and her world flipped. The backpack slung over her arm slammed into the base of her skull. All thirty-two of her teeth slapped together. The coppery hint of blood tickled her tongue. She would have complained about his manhandling, but the pack continued tumbling down her arm.
Magdalena caught the strap just as Law’s jean-covered boots stepped onto the ledge. “Don’t scream.” Then he walked out into thin-fucking-air. Her breast smashed into the bag strapped to his back. She accepted the discomfort, loathe to move the slightest muscle that she might throw him off balance.
Her gaze riveted on the alley below. From this height the trashcans looked like thimbles. The row of cars on the streets seemed to belong in a child’s toy collection and the lines on the street appeared to be his wandering doodles on a page. God, she hoped he didn’t use red, in the form of their splattered corpses. This vantage point didn’t allow her the view from the front of the building or the one already represented.
I’m going to be sick.
After several terrifying strides Law leaped onto the tar top of the next building. She grabbed his belt with her free hand, bracing for impact. Her shoulders relaxed, only to tighten again as his quick gate continued across the roof and onto another blasted plank. By the time he set her to right, they were four buildings away from his flat.
She shoved at his middle. “You scared five years off my life.”
“Well, you scared ten off mine. So, we’re not even, yet.”
“How did I scare you?”
He grabbed her hand and she glared at his back as he guided them through the building’s stairwell and out onto a narrow side street. They walked north five blocks, away from the scene. All the while his gaze scanned their surroundings. When they came to a main street, Law’s grip tightened. He pulled her into the alcove of a storefront and thrust himself against her.
A wide thigh parted her legs, nuzzling her suddenly aching femininity. His free hand tilted her chin. On instinct Magdalena’s lips parted for him, but his mouth hovered near her lobe. His whiskers rasped like sandpaper on her cheek.
“Take it,” he growled.
The words, “Anytime. Anywhere,” hovered in her mind, but were scared away by the cold metal he thrust into her palm. “What!” She tried to retract her hand and found she had nowhere to go.
“I need to get the information off the body I left in the park.”
“Body?”
“Well, I wasn’t going to let him kill me. And I didn’t take the time to search him after.” His hot breath fanned on her neck. “I barely got to you in time as it was. If anything happens to me, I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
Magdalena rested her cheek against Law’s, soaking in his heat. She wished so many things were different. How they met. When they’d met. Who they were. “I don’t even know how to use the thing. I’ll probably shot myself in the bloody foot.”
His hand guided hers over the handle. The contrast between its chill and his warmth perfectly encapsulated her warring desires.
“Feel that.” His thumb shepherded hers across a small bar with a textured edge.
“Yes.”
“It’s the safety. If you want to shoot, flip it down, aim, and pull the trigger.”
She levered back, trying to see his eyes, but his gaze locked on the street. “You make killing sound so easy.”
“It’s never easy. No matter how many times you do it. But it’s not about what’s easy. It’s about what’s right.” He stepped back and pinned her with his gaze. She’d hoped to find reassurance in his brilliant eyes. She found only intensity and calculation. “Walk to the end of the block. Take the tube at West Kensington. Get in the third car and take it to Hammersmith. I’ll meet you there.” Law scooted her toward the street.
“What about you?” Her voice pitched higher with each word.
“I’m going to get the information and arrange a drop.”
Magdalena clung to Law’s hand, afraid if she let go, one of them would vanish like a mirage. “What does that even mean?”
“It means this shit just got real, Magdalena. They found you at my flat, registered to a person that doesn’t exist. It’s not impossible to track, but it takes a load of money and some fancy machinery, or high-level clearance, to accomplish. It means I need help tracking them, so I can properly look after you.”
“Why can’t I go with you? I’ll try my best to keep up.”
Law’s eyes livened and the tiniest wrinkles formed at the edges. “You’ve been amazing, but I can’t chance bringing you when more of them could show.”
> “What if you’re not at the station?”
“I’ll be there.” Law’s fingers caressed her cheek then over her lips. “I’ll never abandon you again.”
Magdalena’s throat constricted.
He pushed her to the sidewalk. “Now, trust me.”
21
“I’m headed into the station,” Law said.
Khani groaned into the line. “Street confirmed the pick-up. Law, the blokes from Baine’s were dead-ends, literally. Low-level knuckle draggers. You said these two were professionals. They’ll be in the system. We’ll intercept the second one at the morgue. One way or the other, we’ll get you some information.”
“Thanks, Khani.”
“Watch your back, Justice. I don’t like this shit. Not one little bit.”
Law stuffed the phone into his pocket and ducked into the brick front building. “Me either.”
The sunlight shining through the vaulted rows of skylights did little to brighten Law’s grim mood. He’d done a thousand difficult things in life, but sending Magdalena away ranked at the top of the shitty list. The fact that he didn’t come up against any opposition to the drop only added to his rancor. They could have at least provided him a suspect to interrogate. When he noticed the homeless man while running in the park, sporting a shiny Glock 38, questioning was the last thing on his mind.
The set-up screamed professional hit. Homeless had obviously watched the building and had seen him leave without Magdalena. His gut formed the rows of knit stitches his mother used to practice for hours on end. He found they helped him about as much as they’d helped his mum make a sweater. The distraction had cost him flesh and blood and nearly cost him everything else.
It had nearly cost him the life that rat bastard tried to choke out of Magdalena. Law crossed his arms, pinning his shaking hands, and leaned against the platform I-beam at the end of the stairs. He held his breath, waiting for the District train to bring her back to him.
In this harsh light, Baine’s actions in Mexico no longer looked brutal. A little teeth pulling and finger pruning appeared downright mellow compared to the plans he had for the people who made Magdalena a target. His chest rattled with angst as the seconds ticked by and the bullet had yet to shoot down the rails. Two minutes later, when the blunt red-faced machine rounded the corner, Law straightened from his post.
He banked the urge to push his way to the door and scoop her into his arms. Instead, he scanned the area for the twentieth time, watching for any signs of an ambush. People moved off the train and created a light crowd on the concrete platform. A sleek woman in a charcoal business suit hung toward the rear of the group. As she slowed and riffled through her handbag, Law wrapped his hands around the grip of his gun.
The brunette produced a tube of lipstick and smoothed the color over her lips. He relaxed his grip, but everything else in him tightened as he focused on the breathtaking blonde standing outside the electric doors of the third car, just like he’d told her. She looked toward the woman then back at him.
Magdalena mouthed, “Were you going to shoot her?”
“If I needed to.”
Again she lipped across the distance. “She’s a woman.” Both her brows shot up and her Irish eyes widened.
Only she could make him laugh at a time like this. He crooked his finger at her and she took four measured steps toward him, still clutching her bag as she’d done walking away.
“You sorely underestimate the power of your sex, Magdalena.”
She smiled, but the tentative curve fell from her mouth quickly. Magdalena blinked at him several times. The force of her flapping lashes was enough to blow him onto his backside.
“You’re here.”
Law closed the gap between them and cupped her soft cheeks in his hands. The silk of her hair danced across his fingers as he turned her chin. Their gazes collided so hard it hurt in the center of his chest. He lowered his head a fraction at a time, until their mouths hovered a whisper from each other. No matter how his mind struggled to convince his body and heart that this closeness was a disaster waiting to unfold, he ignored intellect and went with instinct.
“I promised I’d never leave you again. And I meant it.”
A small tear rolled down her cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb. Her gaze sparkled in the moisture and rays of the sun. He found a piece of sea glass one time on a mission in Australia. The translucent green so precisely captured the color of Magdalena’s eyes, but her gaze awed him so much more than that ocean tumbled bauble. Law touched his lips to hers in a delicate kiss. The tension in her neck vanished as she relaxed in his embrace while he collected all her discarded rigidity in order to rein in his desire.
He slid his mouth over hers, sparking electricity that had nothing to do with static. The tingle spread through his lips to his heart. The prickle headed south, but was railroaded by the passing lipstick lady.
“Get a bloody room,” she scoffed.
Though he had no inclination to stop tasting Magdalena’s sweet mouth, the eagerness to usher her to safety won out. He placed a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose.
“She’s right.”
“Oh?” Magdalena’s pupils dilated and she leaned into his palms.
“I need to get you out of the city. It’s not safe.”
Her slightly drunken expression lifted and she straightened. “Oh. Right.”
Law grabbed her hand and pulled her against him as they headed for the exit. When she hauled back he surrendered his hands. “I wasn’t trying to invade your space.”
Magdalena’s lips quirked. “So, that was a non-invasive kiss?”
His mouth fell open then closed.
“Law, I’m not worried about you violating my territory.” She flashed him a crooked smile. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Would he ever find even footing again? He guessed, no. Not with Magdalena around. And he could maybe live with that. “Huh?”
“Your side. You’re hurt,” she whispered.
“Come on.” He tucked her back against him and led them through the terminal. Their casual pace and embrace belied his acute awareness of everyone around them. Men. Women. Children. No matter their age, race, or perceived disability, they all gained his attention. When they walked out onto the street, his wariness only multiplied. Magdalena slowed and it seemed her unease grew as well, but for a totally unrelated reason.
“I’m not riding on that thing again.” Her sharp finger pointed at his Hog as if it were a dragon or some other equally terrifying mythical beast. Tugging her along, he continued to the bike and set about stowing her gear. “You must not have heard me,” she added. Both her hands jumped to her hips. “So, I’ll say it again.”
“What do you have against my best girl?” He slung a leg over and inserted the key.
Magdalena’s little mouth wrinkled and she shot him with those laser eyes. “I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“And what way is that, exactly?”
“Reckless. Wild. Completely out of control. It makes me a little queasy. It makes my hands shake and my insides quiver. Like I may have a heart attack at any moment.”
“Well, tart, get used to it. Lord knows I’ve had to.”
Her upper lip did an Elvis curl. “Why would you ride the thing, if it makes you feel that way?”
He winked at her and reached for her hand. Magdalena set her palm against his. When he tugged she climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. Her thighs snuggled his ass and her arms wrapped around the leather jacket he sweated to death inside of and held on loosely, careful not to aggravate the raw knife wound.
Law shifted in the seat, offering her the helmet she hated so dearly. “I wasn’t talking about the bike, tart. I was referring to you.”
Magdalena blocked him out with the helmet and they rode peaceably until they reached the outskirts of the city. When he passed Heathrow International she fidgeted. Law turned onto M3 and the houses waned in number, overtaken by lush greenery. Rol
ling hills carpeted in flowing grasses soon turned into tall trees bright with emerald leaves. Magdalena tapped Morse code on his shoulder. Of course, she had no idea what she was saying. But he understood the message: Where the hell are we going?
He spoke through the helmet’s Bluetooth intercom system. “I don’t know exactly where we’re going.”
“Ha, you’ve had this capability the entire time we’ve been riding this thing—”
“This Hog. Or motorcycle. Or Harley,” he interjected.
“Whatever, you’re just now using it?”
They banked into an easy curve. Intuitively, her arms cinched around his middle and her weight shifted with him. An image of their weight shifting together in an entirely different manner capitulated his thoughts down a path littered with potholes, roadblocks, and mudslides.
“Why?” she asked. “And where?”
“I didn’t turn it on because it didn’t occur to me. I’ve never had anyone on here with me.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No.”
“Is the…Hog new?”
“Had her for nearly eight years.”
“And you’ve never had anyone on here with you? Not even a random?”
“No. As to your other question, we need to lay low for a couple of days. So, I’m just driving until something looks good.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “When we get to wherever we’re going, can we eat?”
Oh God, he was a total goner. Keister over heels in love with this woman. His shoulders shook with laughter. “Anything you want, tart.”
22
Showered and full-bellied, Magdalena and Law sat at the tiny round table in the room they checked at a quaint old-world hotel in the equally nostalgic town of Amesbury. Neither spoke more than the words necessary to orchestrate their respective cleanliness and in-room dinning service. And both avoided the bed like the mattress played host to a bevy of bedbugs.
Justice Mine: a Base Branch Novel Page 12