The Omega Team_Lethally Yours

by Denise A. Agnew

  He reflected back to the conversation with her in the office where he’d given her Gray’s card. At the end of the conversation, he’d wanted to drag her against him and kiss her. He held back at the last minute. It wasn’t the right time. Hell, maybe it would never be the right time to kiss her again. She’s responded to his kiss, so he knew she was at least attracted to him, and God, that dance had driven him crazy.

  What he wouldn’t give to feel her lose control. To feel her soft heat tighten around him as he thrust inside her. He wanted it all and that scared him shitless. He couldn’t recall a time when a woman had obsessed his thoughts this way, or the raging desire to protect filled him so thoroughly.

  He looked at his wristwatch. Time to rock and roll. The pub would be open in less than two hours.

  A knock came on his door, and he looked through the peephole. Malcolm stood there. He opened the door to him.

  “Hey, Malcolm. I was just on the way down.”

  “Okay, can I come inside a moment?”

  He let him in and closed the door. “Glad you’re here. I’ve been trying to give you rent money for two days but you’re always so busy.”

  Malcolm shifted on his feet and looked a bit uncomfortable. “Several things I’ve had to do lately.” He held up his hands. “But I’m not taking your money.”

  Nathan groaned. “Come on. I gotta pay rent.”

  “No, you don’t. If you want, consider it payment for protecting Katie. Because I’ve thought about it, and I think she really needs it.”

  Several red flags popped up in Nathan’s mind. “Wait a minute, Malcolm. Now you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

  Malcolm shook his head. “I’m worried about Katie now more than ever. I trust you with her life, Nathan. She’s like a daughter to me. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”

  Worry escalated inside him. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I know.” Malcolm shifted away and went for the door. “Thank you, Nathan.”

  After he left, Nathan sat on the couch and pondered Malcolm’s twitchiness. What if Gray was right and Malcolm was involved with Irish mafia? Nathan’s bullshit meter went on full alert. Self-doubt crept in. Nathan needed to talk with Gray soon. If this situation really was connected to Irish mafia, the police needed in on this. Before he could grab his cell phone to make that call, someone knocked on his door again.

  Katie stood there, so he opened the door. She smiled, the curve of her mouth warm and making his heart beat a little faster. Her tousled black hair touched her shoulders, her blue eyes and milky white complexion reflecting her Irish heritage like nothing else. Today she wore a short sleeved purple blouse with jeans.

  “Hey,” he said. “What brings you here?”

  “Can I come in for a moment?” she asked.

  Hell yeah.

  He stepped back and let her inside. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink?”

  She looked around his sparse room. “No. I won’t be here that long.”

  Rather than offer her a seat, he stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “Okay, what’s up?”

  “I called Gray.”

  “And?”

  “I’m sorry I doubted you. I…he thinks you’re the greatest thing since sliced bread.”

  He smiled, but he wasn’t relieved yet. “I’m glad. You feel better now?”

  She looked him dead in the eye. “Yes. And no.”

  Shit. “No?”

  “Not about you. That isn’t it. I’m worried about recent events. The woman that was murdered for example. What if the person who killed her is also one of our patrons?”

  He frowned. “It’s possible.”

  “That’s what scares me.”

  He couldn’t ignore the fear in her eyes or her voice. He gently cupped her shoulders, drawn to her powerfully.

  “Katie, maybe I should review some security ideas with you and your uncle. I just talked to him.”

  She sighed. “It sounds like a good idea. I’m worried about him. He’s working too hard. The other night I don’t think he slept at all. He looked like death.”

  “Do you know what he’s worried about? Anything beyond just recent events?”

  She shifted, looking away from him as if trying to sort it out in her mind. “Not that I can tell. Do you think he’s worried about something else?”

  “Mostly he wants me to protect you. He told me that’s why he won’t let me pay rent. It’s payment to protect you.”

  “Oh, God.” She rubbed her hands over her face. “Something else has to be wrong. We have to get to the bottom of it.”

  Her reaction didn’t surprise him. She obviously loved her uncle just as he loved her. “We will. One step at a time. Let’s talk to him.” He didn’t release her shoulders. Instead he looked down into her vibrant eyes. “Do me a favor, okay? If I tell you to do something as an added security detail, it isn’t because I’m trying to lord it over you, okay?”

  She smiled and patted him on the chest. “I know. I get that now. I’m a little…I can get a little bossy myself.”

  “Ya think?”

  She swatted him playfully. God, her touch made him crazy. Made him want things. Her teasing smile made it more intense. He released her before he ignored his common sense and kissed her.

  “Come on, let’s talk to Malcolm,” he said.

  With new security measures in place, Katie felt better as Friday night came around. She trusted Nathan one hundred percent, her doubt removed by his concern and care. Every day that went by, she felt that tug toward him and a need to get closer. He, however, seemed particularly reserved and hands off lately. As if he was a professional bodyguard afraid to put a foot wrong. She understood that. Maybe he couldn’t do his job if he got too close.

  Or maybe he isn’t that in to you.

  True. Very possibly true. She should be happy about that, but she found she couldn’t.

  Dana and Katie took to the hustle and bustle doing their normal routine. Malcolm seemed damned satisfied with the arrangement of having Nathan living with them. Days had passed without incident. Every day the evening crowd grew. People showed up in droves at the bar, and her uncle loved the cash flow. Dicky arrived for work on time and seemed unusually enthusiastic to do his work.

  She should’ve loved it right along with her uncle, but something still nagged at her. She couldn’t define what, and that made her more determined to discover what bothered her. Maybe it was just too many things happening at once.

  She entered the kitchen later that night and found Dicky on his cell phone, his face expressing total panic. At first he didn’t notice her. He looked pathetically unsure of himself. At about five feet four inches, he stood shorter than her. His lanky hair, though thick, hung over his face uncombed. Sweat pebbled his clean-shaven face. The nurse in her turned concerned.

  “No man,” he said, his voice high-pitched. “I ain’t doing that to them. I won’t. I’m done with this.” He looked up and jolted when he saw her. Mortification came over his face. “Holy—” He stuffed the cell phone in his back jeans pocket. “Katie.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Dicky, what’s going on?”

  Dick brushed his hands down his apron. “Nothing.”

  “That phone conversation didn’t sound like nothing.”

  He wiped his hands down the apron again. “I’m…it’s just personal.”

  “Dicky, if you need help…” She sighed with frustration. “Okay, first…are you okay? You’re sweating like a racehorse.”

  Dicky smiled. “I’m good. It’s just hot in this kitchen.”

  Dicky had always been a damned good cook, one reason why her uncle kept him on. He also felt sorry for the gangly, socially awkward young man. She didn’t know if she believed him that nothing was wrong.

  She nodded. “All right. But you know you can come to me or my uncle if there’s a problem, right?”

  Dicky echoed her nod. “Yeah, I know.”

  Dist
urbed, she left the kitchen determined to tell both her uncle and Nathan about Dicky’s odd behavior as soon as the pub closed. Since the pub had instituted new security measures, including walking lone female patrons to their cars at night, Nathan had become too damned popular. Women intent on bagging a former Navy SEAL wanted him to walk her to their car. While Katie couldn’t blame the women for wanting backup, she guessed that some of them came alone to the pub for that specific reason—to see if they could get to know Nathan more intimately.

  As the last female patron strolled out the front door with Nathan that night, Katie watched them leave. Dana and Malcolm stood in the bar area and so did Dicky.

  “Would you look at that?” Dana laughed. “That lady had to be twice his age.”

  Katie didn’t bother to mention that Dana had already ogled Nathan for the same reason the other woman did.

  “I’m going home,” Dicky said, looking morose. “See you later.”

  With a chorus of goodbyes, they sent him on his way. A few moments after he left out of the front door, a series of shots rang out.

  Six

  “What the hell was that?” Dana asked.

  Malcolm must have recognized the sound as soon as Katie did. Fear vaulted through her as she thought of Nathan. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket at the same time Malcolm rushed the front doors.

  “You stay here!” Malcolm gestured at Katie.

  She didn’t answer him, damned if she’d do as told. Dana stayed put, but Katie rushed out with her uncle. There was no sign of anyone out front, not even traffic. When they ran toward the side of the building, she saw someone’s head first. As they skidded to a halt they saw the woman who Nathan had escorted standing over Nathan and Dicky, her face deathly white, her hands over her mouth. Nathan and Dicky were covered in blood. Dicky lay face down on the pavement with Nathan half lying on top of him and also face down.

  “Oh, my God.” Uncle Malcolm’s voice rose. “Oh shit!”

  9-1-1 was on the line with her already, and that’s when Dana finally came running out. She flapped her hands and almost screamed, but Katie didn’t listen. She dove right into assessing Nathan and Dicky, terror striking to the heart. There couldn’t be this much blood unless one or both of them had been hurt badly.

  Malcolm told Dana urgently, “Take that lady inside the building and don’t come out until the police get here.”

  Dana did as told, herding the other woman inside. Malcolm helped Katie examine the men, all the while 9-1-1 assured Katie police and ambulance would be there ASAP. Relief hit Katie a moment later when she realized a lot of the blood on Nathan didn’t belong to him. Dicky had taken a bullet to the chest and it had gone clean through him. Dozens of realizations came to her at the same time. Nathan had tried to protect Dicky, had tried to push him aside. She put the 9-1-1 operator on speaker phone and left it on the ground as she went over Nathan with a fine tooth comb, examining his unconscious form. She found a graze on the right side of his head. In the distance, sirens wailed. Her immediate examination told her Nathan was in better shape, but her worry for him escalated. She worked hard, with Malcolm’s assistance, to ensure that Dicky didn’t bleed out. Nathan’s head wound hadn’t bled much.

  Nathan suddenly sat up with a gasp and a curse. “Shit!”

  Malcolm grabbed him and tried to get him to lie down. “Easy, fella. You’re hurt.”

  “Son-of-a-bitches tried to kill us,” Nathan said, anger clear on his face, obscured only by the trickle of blood that had left a thick red line down the right side of his face.

  A wave of relief hit Katie now that Nathan had regained consciousness. “Do what he says, Nathan.”

  Nathan ignored them both and jumped his feet, his expression proving he’d gone on high alert. “How is Dicky?”

  “It’s bad,” she said.

  Police, a fire truck and an ambulance roared up to the building in record time. Everything after that became a blur. Paramedics rushed to them, and Katie immediately gave them her opinion of the men’s injuries. Police immediately took action.

  Nathan started to refuse treatment, and she came unglued on him. “Damn it, Nathan! Just listen to them. You might have a concussion. They need to take you in with Dicky.”

  Resignation entered his eyes, and the paramedics led him to the waiting ambulance as they wheeled Dicky on a gurney. As the ambulance drove away with sirens blaring, two police officers turned to Malcolm and Katie with questions. Katie wished she’d insisted on going with Nathan, but the ambulance didn’t have any more room. She trusted the first responders to take good care of the patients. Worry for Nathan assaulted her, along with generalized fear. Tears sprung into her eyes as her uncle took her into his arms for a hug. She didn’t care that blood dried on her hands and clothes. Fine tremors ran through her body. As tears flowed down her face, she couldn’t speak.

  It took forever for the police to question Katie, Malcolm, Dana and the bar patron. While Katie knew it would take a while, she could barely stand the anxiety running through her over Nathan’s condition. They finally released her, and she went to the hospital while Malcolm stayed to talk to the police some more.

  When she reached the hospital they didn’t allow her to see Nathan. He was still being examined and no one would tell her anything. She sagged into a chair in the emergency room and waited. Although she hadn’t worked at this hospital, she’d worked at one in Portland, Oregon. The place she’d left to come to Tampa. Yet she’d left that trauma with all of its memories and now she’d found new trouble. Even here she couldn’t escape familiar sounds, smells, and the relentless look of boredom, wariness, pain, or concern on the faces of patients. She hadn’t been in a hospital since she’d left Portland, but nothing had changed. She still didn’t want to be in one or work in one.

  Worry for Nathan and Dicky gnawed at her. At one point she paced the floor until a nurse eyeballed her suspiciously. Katie returned to a hard plastic chair.

  Detective Carl Busby walked into the emergency room waiting area and saw her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised to see him, but she was. He headed to the check in area, pulled out his badge and quizzed the nurses. After that, he walked toward Katie and took the chair to her right.

  “I hear Nathan is still being examined and so is Dicky?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “They won’t give you any information either?”

  “Probably the same information you have. Is there somewhere we can talk? The cafeteria?”

  “I’d rather stay here. I want to know the minute I can see Nathan.”

  “Not Dicky?”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Of course, but my guess is he’s in surgery right now. That gunshot wound was very serious.”

  He nodded and looked around. Five other people sat in the emergency room, but the television on the wall blared out news.

  “What? No questions?” she asked.

  “None for now. I think what happened tonight is all related to when that car tried to run you and McKay down.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find out. I need to talk with you, your Uncle, and Nathan again. Sooner rather than later.”

  “I’m talking to Nathan first.”

  “Okay,” he said. “You first.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be great when I find out if Nathan’s all right.”

  Another hour passed before a nurse came into the emergency room waiting area and looked around for Katie.

  “Mr. McKay’s been asking for you,” the nurse told Katie. “Can you come this way?”

  Katie jumped up and followed the nurse, her heart in her throat. At least when she saw Nathan, she would have some idea of his condition.

  When she entered the emergency triage area, déjà vu overcame her a second time. Nausea filled her stomach but she ignored it. She didn’t have time to go hurl somewhere. Nathan needed her. The nurse pulled back the curt
ain on one area and revealed Nathan lay propped up against pillows. A small bandage was applied to one side of his head. He smiled brilliantly when he saw her, and the fact he smiled and looked incredibly alive made her heart sing. The nurse snapped the curtain closed around them, giving them the illusion of privacy.

  “Hey. C’mere.” His voice held warmth and pleasure. “God, it’s good to see you. I was worried about you.”

  She put her hand to her stomach, her insides still tossing. “Me? I’m not the one with the head injury.”

  He shook his head and then winced. He reached up to touch near his bandage. “It’s not that bad.”

  “Don’t touch that,” she said softly. “What’s the verdict?”

  He reached for her hand, and as his big fingers enveloped hers, the heat turned to pleasure. Seeing him so alive and much healthier than she expected almost made her knees weak. The violence of her reaction to seeing him like this made her reassess her initial desire to keep him at arms’ length.

  Too late, girl.

  “The doc says I’m stuck here for tonight. Mild concussion. I’m pretty sure a bullet grazed my scalp. That’s what the doc thinks, too.”

  “How do you actually feel?” she asked.

  “I feel great except for a small headache. Feel like I could do pushups.”

  “Don’t you dare.”

  She squeezed his hand, the idea of a bullet coming that close to him rocking her back. “It’s good they’re keeping you in here. You already know head wounds can be tricky.” She shook her head as a sudden flood of tears came to her eyes. “I’ve seen perfectly healthy looking people go downhill fast with a head injury when they thought they were okay. So don’t you dare try and check yourself out against doctor’s orders.”

  His eyebrows lifted at her vehement tone. He brought her hand to his mouth, closed his eyes, and kissed her fingers sweetly.

  “Okay. I’ll take your medical advice over anybody’s.”

  The warmth and gentleness in his eyes and tone only served to make her tear up more.

  “Hey,” he said softly. “It’s okay, don’t cry.”