by Selma Wolfe
Nikki’s grin widened. She winked at Mark, emboldened by her daring and high on that kiss. Mark raised his eyebrows and slowly mirrored her smile.
“Yeah, Charm is still totally useless,” she said cheerfully. “But he does have a bunch of equipment that I store behind the couch.”
Darn his memory… “There’s nothing behind your couch,” Mark said after a moment. She rolled her eyes.
“Okay, fine, I shoved it under the couch. Details! The point is, I have this hook you’re supposed to use to wrangle the thing out of the cage or pull the stuff in the tank around so you can make sure it’s not dead or whatever.”
“Ahh.” The corners of Mark’s mouth quirked and he shook his head in obvious admiration. “You got over there and used the edge of the hook to cut yourself free.”
Her nod of assent was interrupted by the fact that they’d actually reached the MoMA. It seemed like the museum had snuck up on them. A chill crept over Nikki and her steps slowed, a fact that didn’t escape Mark.
“We don’t have to go. I meant what I said. The police are here already. There’s no shame in going home. Starry Night will be safe, thanks to you.” He stopped in front of the first step and looked at Nikki, his expression open and sincere. Nikki knew without a doubt that he would turn back now and not respect her any less for it.
But would she be able to face herself if she ran away?
Nikki shook her head and curled her hands into fists at her side, willing strength into herself.
“We can’t,” she said. Worry fizzed in her stomach, but Nikki grounded herself with the knowledge that she was doing the right thing. “It’s not about the painting anymore. It’s about… Well, it’s about you.” Mark’s face turned wary and Nikki steeled herself to keep going. “Look, if she gets away again, and we… You’ll always be looking over your shoulder. I will be too, but you…” Nikki swallowed.
“I don’t want that for you,” she said, low and earnest.
Mark was silent. Nikki reached out for something to hold onto and wrapped her hand around the nearby railing. She wondered if Mark would try to force her to turn back for her own good, or if he’d take her desire to help as pity and reject it.
After what felt like far too long, Mark cleared his throat.
“If you’re sure, then full steam ahead,” he said.
Nikki grinned helplessly and he smiled back, just a tiny thing, but enough for her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
He really hated this plan.
Mark wouldn’t have said it to Nikki for the world, but all he wanted to do right then was scoop her up in his arms and run home with her. He wanted to hide Nikki away somewhere that the world couldn’t find them and take care of her. He just wanted to be with her.
But reality was that Nikki was right. As long as Ghost was walking free they would never really be safe. Neither of them could be truly free until Ghost was safely shut behind bars.
So Mark followed Nikki up the museum steps and into the same back entrance that they’d used that first night. It still opened easily. When he gave it a sideways glance, worrying about sabotage, Nikki grinned and shook her head.
“I asked Rob to leave it open again. A little favor,” she whispered.
“We’ll have to send him a thank you card,” Mark mouthed back, thinking privately that really the MoMA deserved whatever they got if this was the security they hired.
The two of them crept down the hall. In spite of the danger Mark felt oddly at ease. Nikki was by his side and Mark was where he was supposed to be - on the trail of someone dangerous. The threat of panic fluttered uselessly at the edges of his mind, unable to gain a steady hold over him.
“Is Starry Night going to be in the same room as last time?” Mark asked. Nikki nodded and Mark’s mouth set in a grim line. He’d been afraid of that. The repair room was far too big and open for his taste. He really hated the idea of Nikki in that room with Ghost, vulnerable to a hundred different angles.
He held out a hand to stop Nikki and she halted obediently. Mark tilted his head and listened hard.
There was no noise of shouts or gunfire coming from the room, but that meant little. For all Mark knew, Ghost could have already hit up the museum and gotten out of Dodge. He wished he could call Julian and ask, but he couldn’t risk compromising his friend’s position.
“If Ghost hasn’t already taken the painting, we’ll hear when she arrives because the cops are waiting. Once they stop her from grabbing the painting she’s going to bolt for the door. We need to station ourselves by the most likely exit.”
“Split up?” Nikki suggested. “You take this door, and I’ll take the one that the cops burst through last time?”
Mark crooked an eyebrow at her. She smiled ruefully, clearly taking his meaning.
“Like hell I’m letting you go again,” he said.
A deep blush spilled over Nikki’s cheeks. Mark pretended not to notice. He turned to study the door, but didn’t really see it.
Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Did he really mean it? Of course he did; even right now he wanted to grab Nikki and hold her close. He couldn’t remember ever wanting something so much, not even when he was 18 and struggling to get his feet under him, scrambling for the money to advertise in any magazine that would take his ad.
The feel of that kiss still tingled against his skin like a phantom. Having that every day, seeing Nikki’s smile… Mark had a hard time even imagining what it would be like to be that happy.
But was he capable of deserving it?
Before Mark could come to any conclusions or make any decisions, a large bang resounded from the next room and shouts and screams erupted past the metal door.
Mark swore and rushed for the door with Nikki only a second behind him. Their hands closed over the handle at the same time. Mark paused just long enough to question her with his eyes.
Nikki nodded, her face resolute. Mark wished that he could make her stay where she was. He wanted to protect her.
But that wasn’t his place. Mark nodded back and they pulled open the door together.
The restoration room was in total chaos. Nikki paused and hung back in the doorway as Mark rushed forward, taking it all in.
Ghost stood in the middle of the room with a gun in one hand and a knife in the other. A sick feeling hit Nikki when she realized that Ghost was holding the knife to the painting. The sharp edge of the knife hovered dangerously close to the canvas.
Five police officers were grouped in front of her, just yards away but frozen in place with hatred written all over their faces. Some of them had weapons drawn and some were just glaring. All of them were frozen in place by the blade wavering barely an inch away from the priceless masterpiece.
“Even more company,” Ghost said. Nikki knew firsthand how keen her ears were. But she didn’t turn her head; her gaze remained fixated on the officers that she had the gun trained on.
The sight of the light glinting off the dull chrome of the gun made Nikki’s stomach turn over. The last time she’d been in this room Ghost had thrown a knife at her without hesitation. A gun in her hands was terrifying.
Frantic motion caught her eye. Nikki looked around to see Mark waving at her, pointing between her, Ghost, and himself. Mark inched closer to the area behind the painting - behind Ghost - on silent little cat feet. He made a wide-eyed face at her and motioned again to Ghost.
Nikki got it.
Her heart quailed, but she straightened her shoulders and forced herself to come up with words, any words.
“Bet you didn’t think you’d be seeing me again,” she said, her voice echoing too loudly around the high ceilings of the room.
She saw Ghost’s body jerk with recognition, though the thief didn’t dare look away from the police officers gathered in front of her. Mark tiptoed closer to the back side of the painting.
“No, I didn’t,” Ghost said evenly. “But unless you’re here with a sniper, I don’t particularly care, either.”
Forget snipers, Nikki just wished she had a plan.
There was a loud click and for a moment Nikki wasn’t sure where it came from.
A collective inhalation of breath issued from the group of cops, and awareness hit Nikki in the gut. That was the noise of a gun being cocked, she realized. That was the sound of someone getting ready to shoot.
Mark obviously knew this better than she did, because his face went pale and taught, and he rushed forward.
A tall, dark officer stepped out in front of the others with his hands held high. He looked serious but not frightened.
“Let’s just calm down now,” he said in a low, soothing voice. It calmed Nikki a little just to hear it. “Don’t make any rash actions. You have the chance to walk away from all of this. Just put the gun down and step away from the painting.”
“You’re about ten years too late,” Ghost snapped. “Do you really think I believe that? You didn’t like me even before you knew who I was; you wanted Mark to hate me!”
This cop was Mark’s friend, Nikki realized, about a half second before Ghost’s finger twitched on the trigger and a shot rang out.
Horror slapped Nikki in the face, shocking her into stunned silence and for a moment all Nikki saw was a jumble of events without a clear order. Julian’s body jerked and his face screwed up in agony. Mark jumped forward and slammed into Ghost. Ghost’s finger pulled back the trigger.
The echo of the shot quieted in Nikki’s ears and time started flowing again.
Julian stumbled back but stayed on his feet. One of his big hands flew to his shoulder and covered it, thick fingers squeezing tightly. Red liquid seeped between his fingers and ran down his arm, following the lines of his muscle and tendons. The other officers rushed forward, two of them going to Julian’s side and the other two moving forward toward Ghost.
Her knife slashed the air, only narrowly missing the painted canvas. Mark’s arms went around Ghost in a mockery of the hug he’d given Nikki earlier. He pinned Ghost’s limbs to her sides as she struggled and reached forward for the gun. She was thrashing wildly back and forth and it took two of Mark’s hands to restrain just one arm properly. He had to choose control over the gun and avoid the knife as best he could.
“Like hell!” Ghost screeched. She frantically adjusted her grip on the knife and turned it back toward Mark.
The spell of terror that had fallen over Nikki broke. She struggled forward on numb feet and moved toward them. She wasn’t sure what she could do to help, but she was determined to do something.
“Stay back!” Mark shouted as he grappled with Ghost for the knife.
Nikki saw the moment that Ghost’s attention snapped to her. She also saw the moment where the knife lined up perfectly with Mark’s face.
“Let go!” she yelled. She sprinted forward and grabbed Ghost’s wrist with both hands. Ghost was so much stronger with her that it took all of her strength to haul back on the thief’s arm hard enough to pull the knife back from Mark’s eye.
“You worthless little skank,” Ghost hissed.
The words hurt almost automatically; Nikki heard the shadow of her mother and herself echoed around them. It was ridiculous that she should be able to process that now, but maybe it was because they were so close to safety. All they had to do was pull the gun out of one hand and the knife out of the other. The two police officers around them had their weapons trained on Ghost and it was a matter of seconds until the thief gave up and surrendered. She was just waiting.
Nikki relaxed fractionally and glanced at the cops.
In that second Ghost used Nikki and Mark’s grip on her to lean all her weight on their holds and kick up with both legs. Because they were gathered so close, she was able to slam both the officer’s hands with either foot and knock the guns out of their grasps, sending them skittering to the floor.
Mark and Nikki’s grasps had been yanked loose by the sudden strain of Ghost’s weight. Immediately Ghost shook the two of them off and pulled away. Mark still had the gun clutched tight in his hand, but Ghost had kept the knife. For a second, Nikki thought that Ghost was going to turn tail and run. She snapped her head around to watch the painting, hoping desperately that Ghost wouldn’t take a last vindictive slash at Starry Night.
A hand snaked around her waist and Nikki gasped as she was pulled against a warm body. She craned her neck up and struggled, only to go very still when something sharp and cool settled against her throat.
The police officers froze in the act of reaching for their guns. Nikki looked fearfully around at Mark, who was standing mere feet away with the gun he’d taken from Ghost pointed at… her. Rather than fear, Nikki felt pure confusion. What?
Long strands of brown hair settled against her cheek. Nikki went very still.
“Let her go,” Mark said. His voice was even but his face was set in a rigid mask. “Now, Ghost. Put the knife down and we’ll let you leave.”
The blade twitched against her throat and Nikki bit back a whine.
“Ha,” Ghost spat. “If you think I’ll believe that, you’re as stupid as your chump friend. But I am leaving, and I’m taking your girlfriend with me for insurance.”
Mark opened his mouth, but Ghost cut him off. “You can argue with me all day while your cop friend bleeds out if you want. Or you can let me go and I’ll take it easy on princess here. Didn’t hurt her last time, did I? Though if she’s dumb enough to get captured twice, she probably deserves anything she gets.”
The worst part was, Nikki couldn’t entirely disagree with the thief. Some help she was to Mark, getting kidnapped all the time like a darn video game character. She sagged against Ghost and racked her brain, trying frantically to come up with some way, any way, of fixing everything.
“It’s okay,” she managed to say to Mark, swallowing down the bitter taste of fear. The only reason she was able to do more than squeak in panic was the fact that Ghost actually hadn’t hurt her last time. Not much, anyway. Those bruises didn’t hurt a whole lot.
Yeah, she was totally screwed.
“No dice,” Mark said with a shake of his head. The gun trained on Ghost’s face didn’t waver. “You leave or you don’t, but you won’t take Nikki with you.”
Ghost shook Nikki with her free hand; Nikki couldn’t bite back a whimper when the knife cut a thin line across her throat. “I’m not letting her go!” Ghost snarled.
Mark’s eyes widened as he stared at Nikki’s throat. He was motionless for a couple seconds as he waited to see if Nikki was badly hurt. When it became obvious that the tiny trickle of blood dripping down Nikki’s throat was her only injury, he looked back up at Ghost with a face Nikki didn’t recognize. It was a cold, ruthless expression.
He cocked the gun.
For the first time since she’d met him, Nikki saw Mark as not just someone intelligent, not just someone broken, not just as someone handsome - but as someone dangerous. His gaze was steely and his muscles were corded, ready for anything. He looked like the kind of man who would honestly do whatever he had to do.
Nikki fought down a shiver. She wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea.
“Put it down,” Mark said with a voice as sharp as a razorblade. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will, if I have to.” His voice was steady, but Nikki knew what it cost him to say that. He couldn’t raise a finger to a woman to save himself, and here he was throwing away everything to protect her.
She couldn’t let him do this, Nikki realized in a bright, vivid moment of clarity. It would destroy Mark. He would spend the rest of his life regretting this moment in a way that Nikki was grimly sure she would not, were their positions reversed. She had to find a way to take the gun out of his hand and place it in her own, any way that she could.
But right now, there was nothing she could do. Nikki was trapped at the mercy of Ghost’s knife. All she could do was wait and stay alert. She refused to be a damsel in distress, just waiting for Mark to save her.
And of course, Mark’
s friend was bleeding off to the side somewhere. Nikki stretched all the way to the edges of her vision, but she couldn’t see anything except a few splotches of red spattered on the concrete floor.
Mark couldn’t stop himself from sneaking a quick look at Julian. He didn’t want to take his eyes off Nikki for a second in case Ghost did something terrible, but he couldn’t help checking on his friend.
Two of the cops had made it as far as the wall before Ghost had initiated her hostage situation. They’d stopped where they were, and Julian was sitting leaned up against it with his hand still clamped over the gunshot wound. By a rough estimate it looked like the bullet had hit Julian right at the juncture between his arm and shoulder - the worst place it could hit there, honestly. Big veins ran through that area, and a lot of nerves. If Julian didn’t get serious medical attention soon he could lose the use of his arm. Mark knew in theory it was unlikely that he’d bleed out, but the sleeve of Julian’s shirt was drenched in reddish-brown blood, and the sight of it clutched at his insides.
As much as he wanted to rush to Julian’s side, he couldn’t. Mark just hoped that Julian would forgive him for that.
He turned his attention entirely back to Ghost. She seemed to have missed his momentary lapse in focus; her brown eyes were frenzied, whipping around the room, searching for a way out.
“Ghost,” Mark said softly. Her gaze snapped to him. It still felt strange to call his ex-fiancé by that name. But it would have felt even stranger to call her by the name he knew her by once. That woman didn’t exist anymore. She’d never existed. “What are you doing? Used to be you picked battles you could win.”
“Who’s to say I can’t win this one?” Ghost snapped. She nudged Nikki’s head back with her wrist, exposing the line of her throat. Fear gripped him like a vice.
Mark swallowed it down and forced himself to respond calmly.
“You had to know that you’d make a target out of yourself by stealing high-profile goods like this. Why even do it? You used to rob banks and jewelers, things that made the headlines for a week and then disappeared. This doesn’t make any sense. You’re drawing too much attention.”