Riley and she went one step at a time, while carefully watching Fletcher and the others.
She didn’t dare hope that Fletcher would let them just leave. No way. He’d kill the guard and Beatrice before he let that happen. Riley must have thought so, as well, because as they reached a pair of marble columns in the living room, he shoved Beatrice forward. Away from him.
He was fast.
Very fast.
He latched onto her hostage, propelled Tessa behind him, and dragged all three of them out of the entryway.
Fletcher fired.
Just as the three of them made it behind one of the marble columns. It was meager at best, but at least it was cover. A good thing, too, because the other guards began to shoot, obviously following Fletcher’s lead and disregarding the life of their comrades. The bullets slammed into the marble, clipping off chunks that became dangerous debris.
Fletcher ducked behind the foyer wall and Beatrice scurried behind a sofa. The other guards fanned out, each finding their spots in the foyer so they could continue to send their barrage of fire at Riley and her.
With a single shot, Riley took out one guard. Without missing a beat, he thrust their hostage into the open, dragged Tessa up from the floor and scrambled toward the side door.
Since Riley was returning fire, Tessa reached up, opened the door and bolted outside. She didn’t run until Riley was out of the house, as well. And they began to sprint in the direction of the formal gardens.
They only made a few steps before bullets plowed into the ground around them.
Tessa spotted the two gunmen on the roof, but it was too late.
A bullet slammed into Riley.
Chapter Fifteen
Tessa didn’t think. She couldn’t. Even though she knew Riley was hurt. Instead she forced herself to react, to rely on her training so she could get them out of a dangerous situation.
She dropped to one knee. Took aim and eliminated one shooter on the roof. Then the other. That left only one guard, Fletcher and Beatrice.
She heard Riley curse and she risked a glance, praying that he was all right.
There was blood on his right arm. His shooting arm. God, he was bleeding.
Tessa latched onto him and got them moving. Fast. Behind a statue of some woodland goddess. Not the best cover, but it would have to do.
“How bad is it?” she asked Riley. She kept her attention fastened to the roof and the door so she could make sure Fletcher, Beatrice nor the remaining guard got the drop on them.
“I’ll live.”
That had better not be lip service or some comeback to reassure her. But in case it was, she looked at him again. Just a glimpse. And, yes, there was blood, but it didn’t seem to be spreading too quickly.
Thank God.
Still, that didn’t mean everything was okay. They had to get out of here. And Riley obviously needed medical attention.
“Don’t you dare step out in front of any more bullets,” he snarled.
“I could say the same to you. And don’t bother to mention the baby. Because, believe me, I remember I’m pregnant. But I also know that I want all of us to make it out of here. That all of us includes you.”
His silence meant he was considering that. “Then let’s get the hell out of here.”
Easier said than done. But Tessa preferred to be on the move since it was only a matter of time before the guard came running from the house to pick up where his slain comrades had left off.
Riley caught her arm and maneuvered her again so that she was on the safer side, behind the goddess and sheltered by a clump of shrubs. Tessa didn’t bother to tell him that she should be at the point. After all, she wasn’t injured. But arguing with Riley would not only be a losing battle, it was also a dangerous distraction.
They didn’t need anything else going against them.
Together, they backed away from the goddess. Easing behind the shrubs, Tessa took a moment to check his wound again. She’d seen worse. Much worse. But because this was Riley, it caused a pain to settle in her chest. In that moment, she’d never hated anyone as much as she hated Fletcher.
“Stay with me,” she heard Riley say.
And he wasn’t just referring to their physical proximity. When Tessa briefly met his gaze, she saw that he’d noticed her examining his injury. He’d also probably noticed her renewed ire aimed at Fletcher.
“I’m with you,” she promised.
Such a simple assurance, but she was more than a little surprised to realize that she meant that on every level possible. She was with Riley. Her heart. Her body. Probably her soul.
Mercy, the timing was all wrong for that revelation.
“Two choices,” Riley said, calling her attention back to their more immediate problem. He reared up, for just a second, and fired a shot into the door where they’d exited. No doubt done to discourage anyone from leaving that way, as well. “We can run for the woods. Not my first preference because we’d be dodging bullets the whole way and there’s no telling just how long or how hard that run would have to be.”
“Our other choice?” she asked.
“We split up. I stay here to cover you and return fire. You make your way around to the back of the house to the RV. Then, you get out of here.”
She quickly thought that through. “Not without you, I won’t.”
“You can call for help.”
When Tessa saw some movement behind the door, she fired a shot at it. “This isn’t negotiable, Riley. I’ll get to the RV, but I’ll drive it back here and pick you up.”
He mumbled some profanity. “God, you’re stubborn.”
“So I’ve been told.”
He mumbled more profanity and shook his head. “Okay, third option. We both make our way to the RV and try to escape. Then, we’ll call headquarters so they can get someone out here to lock down this place and take in Fletcher.”
While she considered that, Tessa did another survey of the roof. She also checked the doors and windows of the estate that looked out onto the gardens where Riley and she were hiding. Together, they would make a much more obvious target. They’d be easier to track. And they’d be easier to kill if Fletcher had that infrared aimed at them.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Riley whispered. “So here’s option four. I go first. You lag back and cover me. And eventually we both make it to the RV.”
It was a logical plan.
So why did she want to resist?
Tessa didn’t have to explore that for long. She knew. The answer was Riley.
“I’ll be careful,” he said, as if reading her mind. “You’ll be careful. We’ll both do what we’ve been trained to do and we’ll all get out of this alive.”
She nodded, partly because she wanted to believe what he was saying and partly because she knew they couldn’t delay any longer. Every additional second was a second that Fletcher would be using to regroup.
Riley got up from the ground. Still crouching, he tipped his head toward the back of the estate. “We’ll go that way. Use the shrubs for cover and then make our way around to the front as fast as we can.”
Tessa nodded. She knew there would be no turning back. No time to second guess this plan or any of the others they’d already discarded.
No time to tell Riley that she was in love with him.
But she was.
Tessa suddenly knew that with absolute certainty.
He cursed and, for a split second, she thought he’d seen the emotion on her face.
“Get down,” he shouted.
Tessa saw then what had caused his reaction. And it wasn’t her expression. The last guard and Beatrice had moved to the roof. Tessa heard the zing of a bullet as it collided with her own weapon, the impact sending the Glock flying from her hands.
She dove to the side, behind a concrete birdbath, to avoid a second shot that would have almost certainly hit her squarely in the chest. Riley scrambled ahead of her, behind a bench, and came up to return fire.
But so did the gunmen.
The bullets began to bombard them. Everywhere. All around them. Tearing at the shrubs and gashing into the birdbath and the bench. The sound was deafening. A barrage of noise, chaos and danger.
And she was unarmed.
Worse, the direction of the shots changed. Suddenly, Beatrice and the guard seemed to be shooting only at Riley. From what she could tell, none were coming her way.
None.
By the time she realized the impact of that, of what it likely meant, it was too late.
Tessa saw the movement from the corner of her eye. Turning, slowly, she saw the gun. And the man holding it.
Dr. Barton Fletcher.
THERE WERE too many shots.
Riley hoped that didn’t mean Fletcher had managed even more reinforcements. Not good. Because he wanted nothing to delay his plan for getting Tessa out of here.
Seeing that gun fly from her hands had taken ten years off his life. Thank God she’d gotten out of the way of that second shot. Now maybe she’d stay down until he could try to contain the situation.
“Are you okay?” he shouted to Tessa.
His shout brought on another hail of gunfire. He cursed when one of the bullets caused a jagged piece of concrete to slash across his left cheek. But Riley barely noticed the sting from the minor injury. He barely noticed because he realized Tessa hadn’t answered.
“Tessa?”
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
He shifted, grimacing at the stinging pain in his arm. He tried to sort through the thick foliage to find her. And he hoped that the reason for her silence was simply that she hadn’t heard him. Yes. That had to be it.
Because she couldn’t be hurt.
Unfortunately she wasn’t by the birdbath.
Riley maneuvered inches away from the bench, and still didn’t see her.
The shots stopped.
Just like that.
Without warning.
And the silence settled in around him.
He didn’t dare call out her name again because it would give away his location. That was perhaps the very thing Fletcher was waiting for him to do. Talk about feeling helpless. Tessa was out there. Somewhere.
Maybe too hurt to respond.
Riley forced that thought aside and concentrated on what he had to do. But it was like being in that surveillance van all over again. No matter how much he tried not to, he was reliving Colette’s death. He’d let her down… But he wouldn’t do that to Tessa and his child.
He came up on his knee, positioning himself to lunge across the narrow clearing so he could get to the area of the gardens where he’d last seen her.
She had to be there.
She just had to be.
“Looking for someone?” he heard Fletcher ask.
Riley snapped to the sound of that voice, his weapon ready to fire. A weapon he soon realized he wouldn’t be able to use.
Fletcher stepped out from behind a section of thick shrubs. And he wasn’t alone.
He had Tessa.
God, he had her. His arm was curved in a chokehold around her neck, the barrel of his gun pressed directly against her right temple. One shot would almost certainly be fatal.
“The estate once belonged to a Colombian drug lord,” Fletcher commented. “He was a very cautious individual. Fortunately, there are escape tunnels and security cameras all over the place.”
And that explained how Fletcher had managed to sneak up on her. Tessa wouldn’t have been able to hear him, not with the noise from the gunfire.
So the shots had merely been a diversion.
It made sense. Well, it made sense to a killer. Fletcher wanted to do away with them himself.
Without the risks to him, of course.
That’s why Beatrice and the guard had been on the roof. If Tessa or he made one wrong move, Fletcher would kill them. And if he failed, then his gunmen would do it for him.
“Here’s the deal,” Fletcher continued, inching even closer. “If you come out now, Agent McDade, and surrender your weapon like a good boy, I’ll allow you and your lover to say goodbye. If you refuse to cooperate, I’ll simply kill her where she stands.”
And he would, Riley didn’t doubt that.
So he stood, and in the same motion, tossed his gun onto the ground in front of him. Surrendering, but it was close enough that he could make a dive for it if he got the chance. And one way or another, he would get the chance.
“Make your goodbyes quick,” Fletcher insisted. Gone was the calm demeanor. The doctor now seemed overly eager to pull that trigger.
Riley looked at her. Confirming first that she hadn’t been injured and then checking her eyes to see what she had in mind. Because, heaven help them, they needed something.
“I love you,” she said.
Riley stared at her and mentally replayed what she’d just said to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. He apparently hadn’t. Because Tessa repeated the words.
Oh, man.
Fletcher laughed. “This is so perfect. Instead of the Baby Maker, maybe my patients should call me the Match Maker.”
The man was still laughing when Tessa mouthed, Now.
It was the cue Riley had been waiting for. He didn’t waste even a second. He dove for his weapon just as Tessa rammed her elbow into Fletcher’s stomach.
Fletcher staggered back. Just slightly, but didn’t let go of his gun. Tessa dropped to the ground, kicking the back of Fletcher’s legs so that he fell.
One of the gunmen on the roof fired. Not at Fletcher or Tessa. But at Riley. Riley did some firing of his own. Instinctively he fired two shots. A double tap of the trigger and took out Beatrice and the last of the guards.
Riley pivoted. Just in time to see Fletcher shove Tessa, and then try to aim his gun at her. Riley fired. Not to kill. Not this time. His shot smashed through Fletcher’s hand and the man howled in pain.
Still, Fletcher reached out again, ready to grab the gun.
“Part of me really wants you to do that,” Riley informed him through clenched teeth.
Fletcher stopped and stared at him.
“Because I’m having a serious fight with my conscience right now.” Riley inched closer. “The only thing I want more than justice is you dead. So I’d think twice before giving me an excuse—any excuse—to kill you.”
Fletcher angled his body and looked at him. And for a moment, Riley thought he would go for it.
Riley thought he might go for it, as well.
But then he saw Tessa.
And Riley knew there were some things more important than getting even. More important than living in the past. More important than anything.
He kicked Fletcher’s gun away, so the man wouldn’t be able to reach it and, choking back the emotion that he knew would be in his voice, Riley read Dr. Barton Fletcher his Miranda rights and placed him under arrest.
Chapter Sixteen
Taking in a deep breath, Riley shifted the ficus plant to his bandaged arm and pressed the doorbell to Tessa’s condo. He waited, more than a little alarmed that he was starting to sweat.
Both literally and figuratively.
He had no excuse for the literal part—a cold front had moved through the area and it was only a few degrees above freezing. The D.C. wind was whipping at his calf-length black leather coat, and his ears were going numb. The figuratively part, however, well…that was a whole different story.
During the past forty-eight hours since they’d collared Fletcher, a lot had happened. First, they’d learned Tessa’s father was alive and unharmed. And the Evidence Response Team had discovered that Fletcher’s estate was well-equipped with surveillance cameras. Dozens of them. The SIU could thank the previous owner, the Colombian drug lord, for that. The entire shoot-out, including Fletcher’s confession that he’d murdered Colette, had been captured on tape. From multiple angles. However, it would only take one of those angles to insure a murder conviction.
&n
bsp; Also within the past forty-eight hours, Riley had already had a dozen discussions with Tessa.
Too bad all those discussions had been in his head.
Or in the mirror in his bathroom.
Now that the debriefings were over and their mandatory forty-eight hours apart had come to an end, it was time for the real thing. A real talk. And therein was the problem. Even after all those practice sessions, Riley still didn’t have a clue what he should say to her.
The door opened. And she was there in front of him. Wearing a bulky strawberry-colored bathrobe, she had a thick white towel draped around her hair. She’d obviously just stepped from the shower, and she smelled like some kind of exotic flower. That scent, coupled with the sight of her, sent his testosterone levels soaring.
Oh, man.
He wondered if he’d always have that reaction to her. That punch of lust, all swirled together with every positive emotion he’d ever felt.
Talk about potent.
He’d experienced a lot of powerful things in his life, but Tessa Abbot was at the top of the list.
“How’s your arm?” she asked, eyeing that particular area of his body.
“Better.” Thankfully the bullet that’d sliced across his right forearm hadn’t caused any real damage. “I’m already ninety percent healed.”
One of her eyebrows lifted. “I heard sixty.”
He shrugged. She’d obviously been talking to her father. “It’ll be ninety by the end of the week.”
“My guess is seventy.”
“Let’s split the difference and go for eighty.” Riley forced himself to quit gawking at her and handed her the ficus plant. “It’s a housewarming gift. Well, sort of. Your father told me they’d finished the repairs to your French doors and bedroom, and I thought that was worthy of a remodeling gift.”
Tessa made a sound of pure delight and smiled. Dimples flashed. And that gave Riley another serious slam of testosterone.
As if he needed more.
“You bought me a live plant.” She said “a live plant” as if it were a priceless gift. He made a mental note to give her things more often.
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