“Let me go!” she screamed, but that only whetted his appetite.
“It’s Madison I want. Send her to me, and this one will go free. We have some unfinished business, her and I.”
But Madison was pressing on her father’s wound, unwilling to leave his side.
“Give me the bitch!” Graham screamed again. His spit was flying, his grip tightening, prolonging Jordon’s agony. “Or I’ll fucking kill her!”
Then he clamped his hand over Jordon’s mouth, muffling her cries. She fought to draw a breath, but she had no energy left. She was fading in the arms of the devil.
The room remained riveted as the horror played out before their eyes. Everyone was in shock, unable to save the girl. Unable to act.
Steel
Evil had arrived. It was as if a silent voice had spoken, only heard within the pits of hell, where Graham Carrington lived. His goal was to capture and escape, but it was poorly planned.
It always came, the self-righteous warning. It waited for you, so I had to be ready. I was ready: fearless and invincible. Adrenaline was the drug I chased.
This fuck-up had a look of calculated evil, and the soldier in him was determined. He knew keeping the guest on the dance floor allowed a human shield of protection. He had no problem striking as the crowd danced, a dozen innocent people in his line of sight.
But today he would pay with his life. I’d kill him. A muscle pulsed in my jaw. To live a life with such intensity took a man unafraid of death, of gruesome possibilities. I was that man.
His desperation was failing. Killing this girl, Jordon, served no purpose. He would fail his mission. His eyes were dark and empty, altering his hard features. The bastard deserved what he got. He had no respect for life, and he was weak. I despised weak.
I had made a grave mistake allowing him to live during our last encounter. I wouldn’t let that happen today.
I leveled my gun, the pressure mounted, and there was no room for error. Then there were several beats of silence as I breathed in deeply.
My Glock 27 in hand, I slid my forefinger, softly caressing the trigger, ready to squeeze, steadying myself as I aimed, I exhaled slowly expelling my breath, and there the opportunity followed. There was slight pressure as I pulled the trigger.
BOOM.
A faint light flickered off the barrel.
One shot in the head, the brain stops functioning immediately. In a fraction of a second, he was gone. I watched his gun drop immediately as he followed. Then Jordon began to fall, and I heard her scream. I dove over tables and rocketed through time and space to reach her before she hit the ground.
My voice was quiet, gentle even.
“I’ve got you.”
As I swooped her into my arms, I could feel her body trembling against mine. We locked eyes I saw the silent plea in her deep amber eyes. She was traumatized.
“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re safe.”
I cupped the side of her pale face. She was unraveling, so I drew her closer into my arms. She smiled and held my gaze, searching it. I watched her cheeks warm with color. My tenderness had not gone unnoticed by her—or by everyone else.
“My Powerful Protector,” she said as she glanced up at me, the man she thought I was.
I cursed softly as her hand touched my face. It felt like a punch to the gut.
Who was this woman?
I could taste it, the powerful magnetic force between us. The allure was potent, and for one heart-stopping moment I let her in. My body instantly coiled tight, twisting with need.
Shut it down.
And with that, my expression went dark.
“Did someone call 911?” I yelled.
They said to never let the enemy see your soul, but she wasn’t the enemy—was she? She was only a woman, after all. A woman in a life-threatening situation. It meant nothing.
“Can someone take over here?”
A man dashed my way.
“And you are?
“Ben Storm,” he answered, taking her from my arms.
I sensed a possessive twinge of jealously from the man.
What I had shared with the woman was only a moment in time, something fleeting.
***
When the police arrived, I voluntarily dropped to my knees and held my hands up, palms facing them.
“I’m the shooter. There’s a weapon in my back waistband.”
I was still ordered to hit the ground, which I did willingly. Then they handcuffed me.
Fuck.
I knew from experience that once the police arrived on scene, they would be better equipped to handle the situation. But there was no doubt that I’d be carted off for questioning. Routine, of course. It wouldn’t be my first time.
“Terrible series of events, officers. The perp threatened two women, and shot one man.”
“And you are?”
I watched as another officer checked for life. I already knew what he’d find.
“Hired security. There’s a card in my pack pocket.”
They reached in and pulled it out.
“Mr. Archer, we will be escorting you to the station.”
Then the homicide unit arrived. They viewed the crime scene, and started interviewing the guests, who were now witnesses. The yellow tape surrounded the perimeter of the house, holding back the curious onlookers, but a crowd pushed and shoved anyway, gawking. The blue interior tape fluttered in the breeze as it surrounded the body.
Even with the chaos still stirring around me, I analyzed the situation. I had made mistakes and unforeseen this as a possibility. I realized that bringing more man power, would have been the better call.
I felt no remorse for taking Graham Carrington down. It was a legitimate kill.
The crime scene technicians arrived, collecting evidence, but I knew what they would find. The body lay still as I walked past the blood pooling from his wound.
In the front yard, the medical examiner waited, knowing she would be the last one on the scene tonight.
***
Once at the station, everything ran smoothly. I called my right-hand man, Flynn, and he would be on his way shortly.
My story stuck. The twenty-plus eyewitnesses interviewed all supported my version of the events. The word hero was even thrown around, but fuck that. I had just been doing my job. No innocent bystanders would go down, not on my watch.
“Am I free to go?”
I knew I would be released without charges.
“How many times does this make, Steel?” Flynn asked when he arrived. “You owe me.”
Chapter Nineteen
Alex
The paramedics were frantically working on James as both Madison and Michelle looked on, cradled within each other’s arms. The shot had been taken in the gut, but we didn’t know what kind of damage had been done. I knew it wasn’t looking good. They had attempted to stabilize him on the scene, then rushed him to the emergency room. We had watched as they sped away in the ambulance and heard it screaming into the night. The homicide unit still needed our statements, and they had waited as long as they could. Finally, Madison and her mother gave their tearful accounts of what had taken place.
As Theo approached us, he held a crying Eden in his arms. My heart bled for them both. I didn’t know what to say to them.
Theo reached out for Madison.
“My God, I’m so sorry. How is he?”
“We don’t know yet. We’re leaving now.”
“I know Alex will take care of you. Let him.”
He embraced her as her tears continued to flow down her face.
Madison turned to me.
“Of course.”
I pulled Theo aside for a brief moment.
“I got word that Steel was let go, that all our stories collaborated. He was the fucking hero here tonight, if you ask me.”
***
We had spent six hours in the waiting room. One nurse and six cups of coffee later, and there was still no word. I pinched the
bridge of my nose, resting my eyes only momentarily. He was in surgery. That’s all we knew.
Once the doctor appeared, I could tell by his expression that the news wasn’t good. We rushed him all at once, eager for news. Unfortunately, the news would come—just not the answers we wanted.
“He had multiple organ failure, and we did all we could do, but he’s gone.” The doctor placed a gentle hand on Michelle’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
I watched helplessly as they each fell apart in their own way. Madison collapsed, sinking to the floor. I reached for her, but my arms were useless in easing her pain. Michelle fell onto the chair, staring into the distance at nothing.
One minute he had been alive dancing, the next he was fighting for his life—Ironically killed by the man he had trained himself, his comrade in arms. Both of them had lost their lives today. Each man had been on the opposite end of the spectrum—one evil, one noble.
What a fucking tragedy. I knew I would be left picking up the pieces of two broken hearts.
***
When we arrived home, it was almost sunup. My heart went out to the two broken women beside me, who were dazed and in shock. The weight of reality hadn’t truly set in yet. I watched them each trying to process the news. I tried to let them know I was there for them both.
Madison walked her mother to her room, and I followed quietly behind.
“I’m going to stay with her tonight.”
I nodded in understanding, then I started to make the funeral plans for a military burial. I had already told the hospital that the family had waived the autopsy, which was usually performed in a murder case. But there would be no case, only the funeral.
***
Three days later, we drove away from the burial, the three of us in the back of a limousine, recalling the 21-gun salute, shooting their three volleys. The closing of the flag, which was then presented to Michelle. The moment had been filled with both sorrow and respect.
Madison turned to her mother, who was still quietly weeping.
“It just breaks my heart that there will be many beautiful moments Father will miss—like me marrying Alex, him walking me down the aisle, and seeing his first grandchild.”
I brushed the tears away from her cheeks, not commenting on her choice of words.
“I know, sweetheart.”
“When it came to my father, I won the lottery.”
Madison cried as her mother nodded, acknowledging her words, unable to form words of her own.
I knew her father’s death would weigh heavily on Madison, and her mother, too. I had asked Michelle to stay indefinitely, sell her place, in fact. She had agreed, but I knew it would be in her own time.
I had also arranged for Theo to meet us when we arrived home. He had his own issues to deal with. After much convincing, they would still be going on their honeymoon, a tropical vacation. They had respectfully postponed their departure until tonight.
His car was there when we pulled up. The ladies walked in, searching for him, and Madison fell into his arms.
He held her tight.
“Let me help you, Maddie.”
He took her hand, leading her to the couch, where they sat together. Her mother and I remained close by.
“I’ve been where you are right now. Remember, I lost you the moment I lost both of our parents. I didn’t think I’d survive. There was a dark part of me filled with bitterness and grief, and yes, guilt. It took me a long time to work through it. You will, too.”
She nodded, and her mother did, too.
“Despite everything, you’ll pull through this. You have your mother and Alex, your new family—Eden and myself, and your future happiness to look forward to. Keep in mind that when you look back in memory of your father, he left this world protecting the most treasured piece of his heart. You, Maddie. That’s how much he loved you.”
“I know.”
“So, in the meantime, I brought a gift.” He shrugged. “It might be silly, but hear me out. I brought a tree. It’s called an Autumn Cherry Tree, and it blooms in spring and fall. Huge white blooms. It’s in memory of your father.”
She wrapped her arms around her brother, thanking him as her head rested on his shoulder.
“Wait, there’s more.”
She smiled, and it was significant moment.
“A little birdie told me you liked the swing in our backyard.”
Her intake of breath had her gaze searching for me, and our eyes met.
I shrugged a shoulder.
“There’s a company who will be delivering and setting up the swing tomorrow, and they will also plant the tree in memory of your father. The tree will grow tall and strong, protecting us and shading us as we find peace under its watch. And we will sit and enjoy those moments on the swing.”
“How did you two come up with this beautiful memorial tribute?” Madison asked.
“Because we love you.”
Then we stood, all four of us in each other’s arms, leaning on one another. Time would heal us, and life would go on. There would still be beautiful moments to be shared among us as we looked ahead to the future.
Chapter Twenty
Alex
I passed through the iron gates, the gravel road crunching under my tires. I recognized his car and parked next to him.
I could see the suit. His stance was unfamiliar. His shoulders were hunched, his hands in his pockets. He still looked flawless, glowing in the midday sun. Rays of light twisted and turned through the trees above as they landed on him like a kaleidoscope.
He heard me approaching, but didn’t turn.
“Why did you send for me?” I asked once I met him.
We were standing side by side at our father’s grave.
“This is a place to find peace, and yet, there’s no peace to be found.”
“Maybe it’s not the place, Ben. Maybe it’s the grave you’re standing over.”
He turned to me now, as if contemplating my answer.
“How long has it been, Alex?”
“Since he died?” Regrettably, I had to do the math. “Maybe ten years now.”
Ben nodded.
It had taken me years to get over my father’s death—as well as his life. The scars that were left in his place even after he had gone.
The quiet remained as Ben knelt, tracing the engraved letters, the dates. Then he looked over his shoulder at me.
“I want to exhume his body.”
I stood frozen.
“Why?”
Then I watched him stand, turn, and leave, driving away in a fume of dust, leaving me in utter confusion.
The story continues in book three of the Surviving Series,
Surviving Jordon.
About the Author
Midwestern born, Virginia Wine is a longtime lover of romance and well told stories. It was only natural to turn that passion into writing a love story of her own.
Married to a real-life Iron Man with legendary stamina, they have two children who keep them on their toes.
Always up for a challenge, Virginia loves bike riding, kayaking, tennis, and boating. She's a self-proclaimed zip-line junkie and will try any adventure that gets her out of the writing cave and into an adrenaline high.
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Forgotten Promise book 2 in the Forgotten Series get your copy today on Amazon http://geni.us/amznfp
FORGOTTEN PROMISE
Prologue
I admire the twinkling lights, the banner displayed across the office, hearing the laughter while holding a glass of champagne. “Happy New Year, Bryer,” one of the partners says. I nod in response as I walk to the corner office, admiring the floor-to-ceiling windows and the magical skyline of downtown Austin.
Through the darkness, I sense him, as I slowly turn, leaning against his desk, watching him approach as if in slow motion. His swagger, his confidence, his strength. All of it, so appealing.
My gaze travels down his body, the expensive gray suit, his crisp white shirt and black tie. His beauty blinds me. It takes my breath away. I notice his clean-cut blond hair styled to perfection. He’s Brad Pitt handsome, the early years.
“Eye’s up here, darlin’.” Cash raised a brow. I obey, seeing fire in his. He leans into my body and touches his lips to mine. “See something you like?” he whispers in his casual drawl. “Always, whenever I look at you.” taking what’s his.
“10…9…8…” the countdown approaching, “Happy New Year” he proclaims.
Liar…if I only knew.
Chapter One
Surviving the Storm (Surviving Series Book 2) Page 21