by Cynthia Eden
He could be absolutely deadly.
If the agency did turn on me, it would have been from Ronald’s order.
“What if...” His voice lowered as his head dipped toward her. “What if I’m the bad thing that happens to you?”
She didn’t understand that, not at all. “Sully?”
“You are too good for me. I’ve always known that.” His fingers caressed the inside of her wrist, moving lightly over her pulse and sending a shiver sliding over her. “Letting you go isn’t possible for me. I’ll try to be the man you need. I swear, I will.”
He was the only man she wanted. Just as he was. “Sully—”
A car horn honked. Loudly. Celia actually jumped, and then her head whipped around. Mac was back in the vehicle and currently blasting away on the horn. He lowered the driver’s-side window, leaned across the seat and called out, “Look, I get that the two of you are really into each other—good for you. Fantastic. I was always rooting for you guys. But we have a rather dangerous man waiting for a rendezvous, and I’d really like to see how this damn scene plays out with him.” His jaw hardened. “If he knows who killed our parents, the guy will be talking to us. One way or another.”
It wasn’t as if Ronald would just give in to a threat, even a threat that came from the mighty McGuires. But he might talk to her.
Or he might shoot her.
They’d find out, soon enough.
She pulled her wrist from Sullivan’s hold. “Time to go.”
He swore.
* * *
AN ABANDONED WAREHOUSE wasn’t exactly a prime meeting spot...unless you were looking for a place to run some shady deal.
No eyes, no ears...no one around for miles.
Sullivan braked the car in front of the warehouse. He’d already dropped Mac off—a good distance back so the guy wouldn’t be seen—and he knew his brother would be moving into position. Sullivan hadn’t wanted to arrive with Mac in the seat next to him. After all, there was no sense tipping Ronald off to Mac’s presence just yet. So he’d taken precautions and made sure to drop off his brother in a secure area.
One that would be hard for Ronald to see from that warehouse.
But Celia had stayed with him. Determined, fierce Celia.
“Are you ready?” she asked him now.
Hell, no, he wasn’t ready. He would be ready if she was far away, maybe behind half a dozen guards, but Celia wasn’t the hiding type. She’d been trained as a fighter, and that was just who she was, straight to her core.
If he tried to push her to the side...no, that couldn’t happen. He had to respect what she could do. They’d stand together, and both of them would be stronger for it.
He saw her check the gun he’d given her. Her movements were quick, practiced.
“Ready,” Sullivan replied, his voice quiet. There were a dozen other things he’d rather have said to her, but this wasn’t the time. It sure wasn’t the place.
Later, he’d tell her how he felt. Later, they’d figure this thing out between them.
We can make it work. He’d do anything to make it work between them.
They exited the vehicle and stayed low as they made their way inside the warehouse. The door was unlocked, no doubt courtesy of the welcome wagon that was Ronald. When they pushed on that door, it squeaked open slowly. The interior of the place was dim, dust-filled. Light spilled in from the busted windows on the right and overhead. Sullivan made sure not to step on the broken glass as he made his way forward. He kept his gun in his hand, kept his body alert and waited for the danger to show itself.
“I thought I said to come alone...”
Hello, danger.
Ronald Worth walked through the doorway on the right. He had his hands up, apparently showing that he wasn’t armed. Just because the guy wasn’t flashing a weapon, it didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
“I thought you wanted to see me,” Celia said, her voice incredibly calm. “So I figured you wouldn’t mind if I tagged along.”
Ronald Worth was in his early sixties, or at least that was what Sullivan had heard. The guy was damn deceptive in person. He was fit, his hair was still a dark black and his light brown eyes had faint lines near their corners.
Ronald’s gaze slid from Sullivan’s gun to the one held easily in Celia’s hand. “Are you really pointing that thing at me?”
“Yes,” she said flatly. “I really am.”
He made a faint rumble of disappointment. “After all we’ve been through together? Come on now, Celia, I made you into the woman you are.”
“No, I did that myself. You were just my boss.”
Sullivan kept his weapon aimed at the guy as he stepped forward. “You said you had information on my family.”
A faint smile curved Ronald’s mouth. “I figured you’d bring her along. I mean, even though I said come alone—that was probably like waving a red flag in front of your face, right? You decided I had to be the threat in this game, so you came running, with Celia at your side.” He dropped his hands. “Since that worked so well, it’s time to leave.”
What?
Ronald’s smile tightened. “Come, Celia. I’ll have you with a new assignment by dusk. You can slip right back into the fold. No one ever needs to know about this little defection—”
“It’s not a defection,” Celia fired right back. “I told you after the assignment in North Dakota went sour—I’m done. I’ve had enough and I want out.”
Ronald sighed. “Are you still upset about that presidential hopeful? Look, I was told he was the man to watch. Our job was to get close and look for skeletons in his closet. You found plenty of those. I don’t see where the problem was.”
“There are skeletons in everyone’s closet,” Sullivan murmured. “Just like I’m betting there are plenty in yours.”
His words drew Ronald’s gaze back to him.
“I don’t remember saying you should lower your hands,” Sullivan snapped at him.
Ronald’s gaze hardened a bit. “You’re not actually barking orders at me.”
“Uh, yeah, I am.” He raised his weapon. “Hands up.”
Ronald lifted his hands. “I have a car out back, Celia. We need to leave.”
She took a step closer to her ex-boss. “I’m not leaving Sullivan.”
Anger flashed across Ronald’s face. “Not that again. Look, so you’re still married to him. We can fix that mistake. No problem.”
Still married—
Sullivan’s gaze cut to Celia.
“The guy is dragging you down,” Ronald continued, his voice roughening. “You don’t want to be a target like he is. You don’t want to get caught in the hell that’s coming.”
But Celia’s expression never wavered. “Why don’t you tell me about that hell? Tell us both. You seem to have been holding back on me for quite a while. According to Sullivan, you know who killed his parents.”
The guy gave the faintest of nods.
“Who killed them?” Sullivan demanded.
Ronald’s eyebrows rose. “It was all in the family.”
What in the hell was that supposed to mean?
“Crimes like that, they can be personal. They can be—”
“Stop it,” Celia blasted. “You’re just jerking us around! His brothers didn’t kill them! None of them were even in the country when his parents were murdered!”
“Ava was in the country,” Ronald murmured. “Always wondered...just what did she see? So much more than she said, I bet. Only she knew how to keep quiet, not like her mother.”
Sullivan lunged forward. He grabbed Ronald and shoved him up against the nearest wall and he put the gun under the man’s chin. “Not Ava. I won’t believe your lies!”
“Look at him,” Ronald said, and he didn’t sound even a little scared. Instead, his words vibrated with fury. “Look at what he’s doing, Celia! Is this really the man you want to throw your life away for?”
He’s pushing my buttons. Playing a game with me.
/> Celia grabbed Sullivan’s shoulder. He let her pull him back.
“Ava didn’t kill them,” Celia said flatly. “And just so you know, I won’t pull Sullivan back next time.”
Surprise rippled through Sullivan. Celia truly did have his back. And I’ll have hers.
“Because I think you’ve been lying to me, Ronald,” she added. “You stonewalled my investigation, didn’t you? And you worked so hard to get this little face-to-face meeting...was it because you wanted to get close to me?” Her words were calm, eerily so. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“No.” The one word seemed torn from her boss. “I’m trying to keep you alive. You stirred up a hornet’s nest. You should have left it alone. They all should have. Now I want you out of this mess before it’s too late—”
“Who killed them?” Sullivan roared.
Celia stepped in his path. “Sully, let me—”
Ronald grabbed her. He yanked Celia back against him, and in that quick instant, the guy had a knife at her throat.
“Drop your gun, Celia,” Ronald ordered her.
She didn’t drop it.
Sullivan took aim at the other man. “I will put a bullet in your head.” They should be clear on that. “Let her go, now.”
“I need to walk out of here with Celia,” Ronald rasped. “We’ll go, and you won’t follow.”
Sullivan shook his head. “I will follow wherever she goes.” Celia still had her gun, and he knew she’d be making a move soon.
“I was following orders back then,” Ronald said, his words barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t pull the trigger. I want you both to know that.”
Then he dropped the knife and whirled Celia around to face him. His hands closed tightly around her shoulders.
She pressed her gun to his chest.
“I didn’t pull the trigger,” he told her, voice desperate. “But it’s all coming back on me. I wanted you to stop digging into the past. Dammit, as soon as you recruited him, I knew it was a mistake. So I—”
“You were the one who set up Sullivan,” she said, her voice hoarse. “You were the one who sold out him and the others agents on that mission. You were the one behind it all?”
His jaw locked. “I didn’t know you’d married him. Not until later. And when I told you that we couldn’t go in after him on a retrieval mission, you should have just listened to me! This could all have been over! You could have been safe! I would have been safe!”
She shook her head. “I think it is over now. For you.”
Ronald was there when my parents were killed. “You SOB,” Sullivan snarled. “Why?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” Ronald rasped. “There was too much to lose. And I... He held the power. Back then, and now.”
“Don’t give me that,” Celia said. “You’re the director of the Special Activities—”
“And how do you think I got that job?” Disgust tightened his face. “I sold my soul long ago. He got rid of the enemies in my path, and I turned a blind eye when necessary.”
The knife had clattered to the dirty floor near them.
“You came here to kill us both, didn’t you?” Celia asked. “You’re still turning a blind eye, aren’t you? Protecting yourself, no matter who else you hurt.”
His eyes closed. “I was going to lead you out, and that would be the end for you. Sullivan wasn’t going to escape, either.”
Lead you out...
“You are dead,” Ronald continued, and he actually sounded sad. “You just don’t know it. I’m sorry, Celia...really sorry this had to end like this for you...”
Then Sullivan saw a glint from the corner of his eye. He’d been in the battlefield before and seen a glint just like that. Off a sniper’s rifle.
“Celia!” He roared her name even as he leaped toward her. He grabbed her arm and slammed to the floor with her.
He heard the thud of impact. There was no mistaking the sound a bullet made when it sank into flesh. Once you heard that hard thud, you never forgot it.
Not Celia. Not Celia.
He was on top of her, shielding her body with his own. But Ronald Worth had no shield. And the bullet that would have gone into Celia just seconds before had lodged in Ronald’s chest.
As Sullivan looked up and watched him, Ronald put a hand to his chest. His legs gave way. The bullet must have gone straight through him, tearing through his organs, because a trail of blood followed him as he slid down that dirty wall, marking a deadly path.
“Celia,” Sullivan whispered. She was so still beneath him.
“I’m okay.” Her voice was a faint breath of sound. “Get Mac on the line. He needs to know a shooter is out there. We need to warn him.”
Celia had told him that Ronald always had backup with him. And that backup was ready to kill.
He eased off her, making sure not to present a target. They were both well away from all the windows now.
That’s why Ronald grabbed Celia. To make her a target. Sullivan would bet the SOB had said that if he couldn’t get Celia to walk out with him, then he’d pull her into the line of fire.
But I got her out.
“C-Celia...” Ronald rasped her name. “Help me.”
Sullivan put his phone to his ear. He knew his brother would have turned his phone to vibrate. Mac wouldn’t risk having a ringtone give away his presence. Before the first ring could even finish...
“What the hell is going down in there, Sully?” Mac demanded.
“A sniper is in the area. He just tried to take out Celia, but he hit Worth instead.” One glance and he knew... “The guy isn’t going to be living much longer. I need you to call your cop buddies and get a team out here. Now.”
Before the sniper slipped away.
A ghost who disappeared in the wind.
“Stay alert,” Sullivan ordered him.
Celia was creeping toward Ronald.
Sullivan slammed down his phone and grabbed her hand. “Don’t.”
“He’s dying,” she whispered back to him.
“And he was ready for you to die.” He pulled her closer to the nearest wall. He needed to get out there and hunt that shooter. “You can’t help him, Celia. You know that.”
Her hand brushed over his cheek. Sullivan stilled.
“I can,” she said. “I will.”
“Celia—”
“Go after the shooter. I’ve got this.”
Then she crawled away, heading back toward Ronald. The other man was gasping now as he tried to clumsily put his own hands over the gaping wound in his chest.
The man could still be a threat. He’d been working covert operations for years. Celia had to know just how dangerous the fellow still was. The knife was far too close to Ronald.
Celia kicked the knife away. Then she put her hands over Ronald’s. “Look at me.”
Sullivan barely heard her voice.
“It’s okay, Ronald. You’re not alone.”
And Sullivan knew just how Celia planned to help the man who’d been ready to kill her.
She wasn’t going to let Ronald die alone.
Slowly, Sullivan slipped from the room.
Chapter Eight
His blood soaked her fingers. It was warm, slick, and the flow wouldn’t stop.
She’d pulled Ronald down onto the dirty floor. His head was in her lap. Her hands were over his chest.
“Celia...”
“Save your strength. Help will come soon.” She’d heard Sullivan tell Mac to call the cops. Any minute they’d be hearing the wail of sirens. “You’ll be all right.”
His laughter was little more than a rasp. “You know...that isn’t...true.”
Yes, she did. She also knew that when a man was dying in your arms, you said what you could to comfort him.
Even if he’d just tried to kill you.
“I’m...sorry.” Ronald seemed to force out those words.
“Shh...” She didn’t want to hear his apologies. She didn’t want to open the
floodgate on the pain inside her. She needed to be strong now.
“Always...respected you...saw so much...in you...”
She pushed down harder on the wound. So much blood. If Sullivan hadn’t grabbed her, she’d be the one bleeding out on that dirty floor. She’d be the one struggling for each breath.
And Ronald would have been the one to send her to her death.
She stared into his eyes. Dark, deep and pain-filled.
She tried to smile for him.
“Celia...” He did smile for her. “You’re usually...a better liar...”
And he was usually a better man. “Why?” She wanted to know before it was too late.
“Because you were...destroying me.”
She shook her head but never let up the pressure on his wound. “I wasn’t. I never did anything to you.”
“Past...tied up...a weight that’s been pulling me...for so long...”
She stared into his eyes. His breath was coming in slower pants. “How were you connected to Sullivan’s mother? Were you—were you the man who killed her boyfriend?”
His bloodstained fingers lifted toward her cheek.
“Talk to me, Ronald.” You don’t have time to waste.
“I’m...sorry.”
“Then tell me what you can.” She still didn’t hear the shriek of sirens. “What was your connection?”
“Her boyfriend...was a target...”
Her breath expelled in a rush. “A government target?”
“Only doing my...job.” His eyelashes began to sag closed. “Hired...assassin. We didn’t...didn’t kill the woman. Let her go... She should never...never have been...there... She...recognized him...knew killer... F-family...”
His eyes had closed. His breath was so hard, so—
There was no sound.
No more hard breaths. No more rasping voice struggling to speak.
She swallowed. “Ronald?”
He didn’t answer her. Her left hand slid up his neck and searched for his pulse. Her bloody fingers lingered against his skin, but there was no pulse to feel.
“Goodbye, Ronald,” she whispered. She remembered the first time they’d met. His firm handshake when he’d welcomed her into his office. Her knees had been knocking together, but she’d refused to show him her fear. She’d promised him she could handle any job the agency threw her way. She’d been so eager to prove herself.