by Lisa Childs
Despite the sunshine, it was cold in the park—the wind whistling through the bare branches of the trees. But he understood her reaction. While it had been many years ago, he remembered how it had felt to be locked up—trapped. When she’d compared the condo to jail, he hadn’t been able to keep her locked up any longer. Despite what Nick and Garek believed because of those horrible rumors, she had done nothing wrong. She had done nothing to deserve all she’d been through—nothing to deserve captivity.
“I feel guilty,” she said. “Michael would love this park.” She gestured toward the swings that although empty swayed in the brisk breeze.
He hadn’t dared to risk bringing their son along, too. He hadn’t wanted his focus divided. He’d managed to protect them both before, but he hadn’t wanted to risk it. He wasn’t sure it was just Frank Campanelli after them anymore.
“We should get back to him,” Milek said.
She smiled at him—that beautiful smile that brightened her eyes and her skin—setting her whole face aglow from within. “To bring him here?”
He shook his head and reiterated, “This was a bad idea...”
He felt it again—that ominous unsettling feeling he’d had outside the hotel in northern Michigan. He’d had it when he’d noticed the truck following him the other night and again yesterday on the street. He felt Frank Campanelli’s presence. The shooting began before he ever had a chance to reach for his weapon, though.
Chapter 12
Gunfire echoed inside her head, her ears ringing from all the shots that had been fired. And she couldn’t stop shaking. Milek wrapped his arms around her—as he had back at the park—when he’d used his body as a human shield for hers.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you think you’re in shock?”
She was shocked—that they hadn’t been killed. That no one had been hit.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
His chin bumped the top of her head when he nodded. “Yes.”
“And everyone else?”
He uttered a heavy sigh—almost of regret—but replied, “Yes.”
She eased back slightly in his arms to stare up at his face.
“Nobody hit Campanelli,” he said, explaining his disappointment.
“You think it was him?”
Milek nodded. “Yeah, I think it was...”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “So sorry...”
“Despite what some people believe, I know you didn’t hire the Ghost,” he assured her. “Why are you sorry?”
“I shouldn’t have convinced you to let me leave the condo.” She’d had fun convincing him—with her lips and her hands. They’d spent the entire night making love—before he’d finally agreed to take her to the park in the morning.
“Nobody got hurt,” he reminded her. His arms tightened around her again, pulling her flush against his chest. His heart pounded fast and hard against hers. He was shaken, too.
“But they could have.” And she’d wanted to bring Michael along...
She shuddered at the thought of what could have happened to their son. Milek hadn’t let her see her little boy yet. He’d taken her directly into the master bedroom after he’d brought her back to the condo.
She didn’t want Michael to see her like this, either—freaking out. It would freak him out, too. She drew in an unsteady breath, trying to ease the anxiety gripping her. She wanted to see Michael, but she had to pull it together first—for his sake.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured again as she pressed her mouth to Milek’s neck. If something had happened to him...
His hands clasped her back before he eased her backward. He tipped her chin up and dropped a kiss lightly on her mouth. “Nothing happened,” he said again.
She drew in another deep breath. “Yes, there were a lot of shots fired but nobody got hit...”
Milek’s brow furrowed, and he admitted, “He could have killed us.”
She shuddered again. She hadn’t been wrong. It had been a close call. A very close call.
His voice dropping to a raspy whisper, Milek repeated, “He could have killed us. But he didn’t...”
* * *
“What’s taking me so long?” Frank repeated the question into the cell phone pressed to his ear. He’d had a couple opportunities to end it. But Milek Kozminski was never really alone. Even if he wasn’t protecting the woman and the kid, there were people protecting him.
Like the day in the city when Kozminski had been out without the lady lawyer, he still hadn’t been alone. If Frank had taken a shot, he would have been shot himself. That damn female bodyguard had been there again—like that night.
Like today...
Frank hadn’t wanted to kill her, though. She was just doing her job. Like Milek Kozminski was just doing his...
Maybe it was the painkillers. They’d taken the edge off his temper and made him think rationally again. He had never acted on emotion before. That was why he hadn’t taken the shot when Milek had been without the woman. Frank hadn’t wanted to risk his own life to take a life he wasn’t even being paid to take.
He hadn’t wanted to risk his freedom, either. And it was clear he’d been outnumbered in the park. So the shots he’d fired there had been at such a distance that none of them had struck a target.
There’d been only one viable target there, though. Milek Kozminski’s name wasn’t officially on his list.
“I don’t do freebies,” he inadvertently spoke aloud.
The cell crackled as the caller’s voice rose with outrage. He smiled.
“Yeah, I know you paid me once and thought the job was done.” He’d fooled this person once, but he didn’t dare try it again. The fury was dangerously close to madness. He was getting as much money as he could from this source.
But maybe there was another one. He’d been close enough to Milek Kozminski that he’d seen the quality of the man’s clothes. He’d checked out his place, too. It must have taken a lot of money to convert a warehouse to a home.
How was Kozminski able to afford all of that on a bodyguard’s salary? But then, he wasn’t just a bodyguard; he’d been raised a thief. Maybe Frank could get him to put those skills to use for him. Or at least for the woman the guy obviously loved so much he’d put his life in danger for hers over and over again.
* * *
Milek had never had a problem with Logan Payne being the boss of Payne Protection. Unlike Logan’s brothers and sister, Milek had never coveted his job. He’d become a bodyguard because all he had wanted was to save at least one life. Not that he could replace the life he had taken—even if he’d wanted to...
Right now they were all looking at him—even Logan—as if he was the boss. He had called this meeting in his living room, but only because he’d wanted them all close to Amber and Michael.
And because he had wanted to stay close to Amber and Michael. They were in the little boy’s room. Michael was watching a movie so he wouldn’t overhear the meeting. Milek didn’t want him to know the bad man had tried to hurt them again.
“Nobody saw anything?”
Along with the officers Agent Rus had sent to the park, the bodyguards had also talked to joggers and dog walkers.
They all began to speak at once.
Candace: “He could have been one of the dog walkers or joggers. There was one that...”
Garek: “Was flirting with you because you’re gorgeous. If it was him, you would have seen his gun.”
Cooper: “I found the gun.”
Parker: “An officer took it to River City PD.”
Whatever else they said bled together in Milek’s mind. He tried to process, but Garek and Candace had begun their own conversation simultaneously with Parker and Cooper’s discussion of one of the officers.
Instead of stepping in, Logan looked to him. He knew how much this meant to Milek—how much Amber and Michael meant—so he’d stepped aside.
Milek held up a hand. “Cooper,” he said—loudly enough that he drew the former marine’s attention. “What can you tell us about the gun?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t the right one for the job—not at the distance he was shooting from. I found the spent shells. If he’d had a long gun—a sniper’s rifle—he could have taken you out before we knew he was there.”
Milek had been careful to stay close to Amber—close enough that had someone fired shots, he would have taken the bullet. So why hadn’t he taken a bullet?
“Maybe it wasn’t Frank Campanelli, then,” he said. “He would have used the right gun.”
Candace nodded. “He certainly used the right one that night in the alley.”
“If that was the Ghost...”
Cooper said, “The officer took the gun back to the River City PD crime lab to see if it’s from the same batch of stolen weapons as that automatic rifle.”
“Good.” But the gun wasn’t going to lead them to Campanelli. He wouldn’t have left it behind if it would. But he was cocky—cocky enough that he might have talked to one of them.
He turned to Candace. “This guy,” he said. “What did he look like?”
She shrugged. “Midfifties, early sixties, average height, average build—thinning salt-and-pepper hair, blue eyes.”
He’d seen guys who looked like that on the street the day before. But there had been more than one.
“Nothing distinctive?” he asked. “No tattoos? No scars?”
She shook her head.
But the Ghost would want to be nondescript. Invisible.
His cell vibrated in his pocket. He nearly ignored it.
But Logan said, “Maybe it’s Nick.”
Milek hadn’t asked Nick to the meeting. He probably would have tried to blame the park shooting on Amber. Or maybe he was calling to concede that he’d been wrong about her. He pulled the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen.
Private caller. An uneasy feeling lifted the hair on Milek’s nape. Could it be...?
“Nick?” Logan asked.
He shook his head but he clicked on the phone. He had to know. “Hello?”
“Hey, Milek Kozminski.”
His blood chilled as he recognized Frank Campanelli’s voice from that night in the hotel parking lot. “Hey...”
“Shh,” Frank advised. “Don’t let anyone else know you’re talking to me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you and I can end this now,” Frank said, “between the two of us.”
Milek held his hand over the cell and told the others, “I need to take this...” He ignored their surprise that he’d step away from a meeting he had called, walked into his bedroom and closed the door.
“I can talk freely now,” he told Frank. “What are you proposing? An old-fashioned duel?”
“We could have had that the other day,” Frank said, “when we came face-to-face on the street outside the River City PD.”
Milek shivered. He’d known it—that he’d been close. He hadn’t realized until now he’d actually seen the Ghost. “Why didn’t you take the shot? Too close to River City lockup?”
“You weren’t alone.”
“I wasn’t alone today, either,” Milek said, “but you fired a lot of shots.”
“I wasn’t trying to kill anyone then,” Frank said. “I was just giving a warning—like the night I fired shots into the lady lawyer’s place.”
“I don’t know many hired assassins who give warnings.” But he couldn’t deny Frank had. At first Milek had thought the photos the hit man had sent to Amber were a sadistic taunt. But maybe it had been a warning. Maybe he really didn’t want to kill her.
“That first time you shot at me when I was alone in the alley,” Milek said, “didn’t feel like a warning.”
A sigh rattled the phone. “I was mad.”
“Mad?”
“You hit me—that night in the hotel parking lot.” He groaned as if still in pain.
“I would apologize,” Milek said, “but you weren’t firing warning shots that night, either.”
Frank chuckled. “None of them hit you...”
And Milek had been close enough that Frank could have—had he wanted to. Milek had apparently hit him. Maybe that was why none of the shots since had hit anyone. Maybe Frank’s injury had affected his marksmanship.
“I’m a bodyguard,” Milek said. “It’s my job to protect my clients.”
The old hit man sighed again. “I know. That’s why I got over my anger. That’s why I didn’t take any real shots at the lady bodyguard, either.”
“I’ll tell my brother you’re not going to hurt his wife.” Garek would be happy to know Candace was safe. What about Amber, though?
Milek glanced at the bed and remembered Amber on top of him, moving so sensually—driving him nearly out of his mind with pleasure. He couldn’t lose her.
Michael couldn’t lose his mother. He was just a little boy.
Frank said, “And we both know the lady lawyer is more to you than a client. The kid looks just like you.”
“He’s mine,” Milek said. It felt good to claim his child. “So you’re saying my sister-in-law is safe. And apparently you’re not going to try to kill me anymore. But what about Amber?”
“That depends on what you can offer me...”
He wanted money. Of course. That was all Frank Campanelli had ever cared about—a paycheck.
“I can pay you off,” Milek said—although he had no idea what the going rate was for a hit man. “But that won’t stop whoever hired you from hiring someone else—maybe someone not as reasonable as you are.”
Frank chuckled. “You want to know who hired me.”
“Yes.” Hit men were notorious for never revealing their clients. But then they weren’t known for giving warning shots, either. Frank Campanelli was obviously different.
“It will cost you.”
Milek didn’t care how much. If he didn’t have enough, he could find the rest. He hadn’t forgotten everything his father had taught him. And his son’s and Amber’s safety were priceless.
“I want you to meet me,” Frank said.
Even knowing it was probably a trap, Milek found himself agreeing. “Of course.”
“Alone,” Frank specified.
It was definitely a trap. But if the cost for Amber’s safety was his life, Milek would gladly pay it.
Chapter 13
Her lips tingled from his kiss. As the condo door closed behind Milek, Amber pressed her fingers against her mouth. He hadn’t told her where he was going.
Nerves tightened and twisted her stomach into knots. And that kiss had felt so final, as if it might be the last time he kissed her.
“Did he tell you where he’s going?” Amber asked.
Candace Baker-Kozminski shook her head. Her teeth nibbled her bottom lip. Amber wasn’t the only one nervous over Milek leaving. Her nerves turned into fear now, and she began to tremble.
She crossed the living room and reached for the door. Maybe she could catch him yet. Maybe she could stop him. But when she reached the door, she remembered there was no handle—no knob. Just that panel next to it. She would have to punch in a code to get the door to slide open. She reached for it but stopped. She had no idea what the code was. He had never told her.
She hadn’t exaggerated when she’d told him that she felt like an inmate in his home. But she shouldn’t have said that—shouldn’t have risked everyone’s safety just so she could feel the sunshine on her face again. But she didn’t want out for the sunshine. Night had fallen already.
; She wanted out to stop Milek.
“What is the code?” she asked Candace, her fingers trembling over the panel. “What is it?” He was getting away—going wherever he was going that she suspected even he didn’t think he would return from. “I need to get out now!”
“You can’t go anywhere,” the female bodyguard said. “It isn’t safe.”
“It isn’t safe for him, either,” Amber said.
“Milek is a bodyguard,” Candace said. “A damn good one. He can protect himself.” But as soon as she uttered the words, her teeth nibbled on her bottom lip again. She didn’t believe what she was saying any more than Amber did.
“Please—”
“Mommy, where are you going?” Michael asked. Jewel dangling from his arm, he rushed over to her.
“Your mommy isn’t going anywhere,” Candace answered for her. “She was just making sure the door was shut.”
His chin quivering, he asked, “So the bad man can’t get in?”
She’d thought he hadn’t heard anything today, when they’d all been discussing the shooting in the park. And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he just remembered those other times the bad man had come after them—when he’d driven their van off the road and shot at them when they’d run for the hotel.
She dropped to her knees in front of her son and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, sweetheart...”
Candace reached out, her hand patting Michael’s head. “You’re safe, little man. The bad man wouldn’t dare to try to get in here.” She flexed one of her impressive biceps. “He’s scared of me. He knows I’d kick his butt.”
Michael giggled. Then he tugged out of Amber’s arms and reached out for the statuesque brunette.
A look of panic briefly crossed Candace’s face. She was obviously not comfortable with children even though she’d instinctively said the perfect thing to calm the little boy’s fears. Those instincts took over again as she lifted Michael into her arms.
He pressed a noisy kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Aunt Candy.”
The bodyguard’s blue eyes widened with surprise. “Aunt Candy?”
Amber doubted his calling her “aunt” had shocked her; it was the “Candy.”