Gray glanced at Natalie’s older brother who stood arm in arm with Jolie. He could see the huge diamond on her finger from here. “She’s beautiful, too. But I prefer blondes.”
She smiled. “Thanks. But at a wedding, all eyes are on the bride.” She looked back to her brother’s new wife.
Ash and Rachel stood in the doorway of the church, poised to start down the steps to their car under a shower of rose petals.
“She’s so lucky. Ash will always be there for her, and now they have a baby on the way.” She drew in a shaky breath. Tears sparkled in her eyes, making them shine like emeralds. “And soon Jolie will be married to Devin, too.”
“You’re a romantic.”
“I suppose so. I’ve always wanted someone just for me, you know? Someone to share things with. Someone to care for.”
“Someone who will be there for you.”
“Yes. Someone who will never leave.”
He didn’t want to tell her that love didn’t mean people would never leave. He was no authority, anyway. Maybe some people did have that kind of bond. He didn’t even know if he was capable. Or that someone like Natalie would even want to take a chance on him.
But he had to admit, spending all this time with Natalie, he was starting to understand the appeal. He almost had enough courage worked up to voice the thought when the first shot rang out.
Chapter Thirteen
Natalie heard the pop of gunfire, but for a second, she couldn’t get her body to react.
Screams erupted around her. Many of the guests ran, colliding into one another, some falling. Rachel dropped her bouquet and it thumped down the chapel steps. Groomsmen drew guns. Rose petals floated in the air.
Gray grabbed her by the elbow. “Natalie, move.”
She stared at his face, a mask of calm. In his other hand, he held a gun.
Oh, God, this was really happening.
They’d prepared for it, planned for it. But to her, the possibility of someone shooting up her brother’s wedding had never seemed real. More like a game of pretend her big brothers played as kids, with her too young to really contribute but valiantly trying to play along.
Her family. Oh, God.
At the top of the stairs, Ash pushed Rachel back inside the church. Natalie couldn’t see where Jolie had gone or Devin or her aunt and uncle. A woman she didn’t know grabbed the flower girl and raced for cover behind a hedge.
“Come on, Natalie.” Gray half picked her up, half pushed her.
She forced her feet to move, willed her legs to carry her where Gray was leading.
In moments, the area around the church steps cleared. Guests continued to scream. Men barked orders. Car doors slammed and engines roared to life.
Gray pushed through the gate and pulled her into the graveyard. Still holding her elbow, his grip firm as a vise, he steered her down a cobblestone walk that flanked the church.
Natalie’s pulse throbbed in her ears. Her heel sank into a space between the stones. She stumbled forward and Gray caught her.
The church’s wood siding splintered a foot from her head.
Gray bit out a curse. He released her, and both of them fell to the ground.
Natalie hit the stone path. Pain slammed through her hands and knees. Her ankle turned and she felt her heel snap.
Another shot hit a nearby tree.
“Behind the tombstone. Now!” Gray crawled for the closest stone, still grasping Natalie’s arm, pulling her with him.
She pointed her toe, letting her broken shoe slip off, leaving it behind. Wet grass squished under her knees. Her dress tangled around her legs. She couldn’t breathe fast enough, couldn’t scoop in enough oxygen to fill her hungry lungs.
They reached a patch of mud and kept crawling. A wide monument of red granite loomed ahead, spanning two or more graves. Gray pressed her up against the cold stone and covered her with his body.
She panted, trying to think, trying to breathe. The full impact of what had just happened slammed into her, making her dizzy. All the guests, some of them children. What kind of monster shot into a crowd filled with children?
“Is anyone hit? Did you see if anyone was shot?” She tried to raise her head, to look around, but she couldn’t move.
Gray’s chest was a solid wall behind her back. He splayed one hand on the crown of her head, preventing her from moving. “You have to keep your head down. Whoever this is, he’s gunning for you, Natalie. Stay down.”
Gray didn’t understand. This wasn’t just about her. Not this time. “He was shooting into the crowd.”
“But after the crowd broke, he kept gunning for you. He knows where we crawled. He might still be watching us through his sights right now.”
She moved her head in a nod. She realized that. Yes. Gray was right. She had to keep her head down. The bullet that splintered the chapel’s siding was meant for her, as was the one that hit the tree. She could absorb that much. What she couldn’t fathom was the fact that he’d shot into the crowd. That innocent people who couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this man could have died. They could be lying on the pavement dying right now. “Did anyone get shot?” Her voice sounded strangled in her own ears.
“I didn’t see anyone go down.” His voice was gentler, though still commanding.
“But you don’t know. I don’t want anyone hurt because of me. I…”
“Listen, Natalie.” He spoke into her ear, his breath warm against her cheek and neck. “I didn’t see anyone get hit. But even if someone was, you can’t do anything about it. You rush out there, and you’re dead. That crowd was half made up of cops. They have the training to deal with this. They know how to handle situations like this better than you do. They’ll make sure everyone’s safe.”
She knew he was right. “I just—”
“You just nothing. The shooter is tracking you. He’s waiting to get an angle on you. If you go back to the front of the chapel, you’ll be putting everyone else in danger.”
A sob lodged thick in her throat. He was right. Of course, he was right. Ash and his fellow officers could handle the crowd. Anyone around her was in danger. Someone was trying to kill her. If she didn’t want to truly accept that after the push into the street and the shooting at Gray’s apartment, she had no choice but to accept it now.
Her heart was beating so hard, she felt dizzy and nauseous. She pulled in a shuddering breath and struggled to find some amount of calm. “What do we do next?”
“We find a way out of here.”
“How?” She didn’t know if panic had short-circuited her brain or what, but she couldn’t seem to think. And she had no idea how they would ever get out of this. “We wait.”
“Wait?”
“He knows right where we’re hiding. As soon as we move out from behind this tombstone, he’ll get his shot.”
So they were trapped? “Where is he?”
“As far as I can tell, he has to be somewhere in those buildings across the street. Probably an upper floor. The longer we make him wait, the better odds the police have of finding him.”
Sirens screamed, the sound echoing through city streets.
“So he’ll either wait and get caught or run.”
She could feel Gray’s nod. “That’s his choice.”
Everything he said made sense. At the same time, every nerve in her body was still screaming to run. She stayed still, trusting Gray.
More sirens joined the cacophony, the cavalry on its way.
“See? He can’t afford to stay there much longer.”
Relief trembled through Natalie’s body.
Gray shuffled behind her. Before she could tell what he was doing, he draped his jacket over her bare arms and shoulders.
She realized tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t wipe them away. She just focused on the heat of Gray’s body. The scent of him, so clean and masculine, wrapped around her like his embrace. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“
Being here.”
“I’ll always be here when you need me.”
As much as she longed to take his promise at face value, she knew she couldn’t. He would be there while he was working as her bodyguard. But always?
“Tell you what…” He slipped his hand along her body, dug into the interior pocket of his tux jacket and pulled out his phone. Shifting so he sat slightly to the side of her, he tapped in a number and held it to his ear.
“Who are you calling?”
“Ash.”
He held a one-sided conversation Natalie could only guess at, but by the time he cut off the call, she was feeling a little calmer. She waited for Gray to report what her brother had said.
“First, no one was hit.”
Natalie shifted her hip against the tombstone and slumped against the cold granite. “Thank God.”
“But they didn’t find the shooter yet. They’re still searching.”
“So what do we do?”
“There’s no way he’s still set up in that building. By now, he’s probably gone. He would have been seen. So I’m taking you out of here.”
She braced her hands on the stone, ready to push herself up.
He held up a hand. “In a few seconds.”
“What happens until then?”
He gestured for her to wait. Then before she realized what he was going to do, he stood up.
Natalie cried out. She caught his fingers and tried to pull him down.
He stood for a few long seconds, then crouched back beside her.
Anger swept over her, fluctuating from cold to hot. “What were you doing?”
“Testing the water.”
“You were trying to draw his fire.” She wanted to hit him, wanted to pound her fists against his chest. “Why did you do that?”
“To draw him out. I had to be sure he was gone, that he hadn’t just changed positions before I let you move.”
“You could have gotten killed.”
He had the nerve to look her in the eye and nod. “Instead of you getting killed. It is my job, Natalie.”
She shook her head. Her whole body trembled. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. “Getting killed is not your job.”
“If it saves you, it is.”
Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t know if it was facing the fact that Gray could have died or that he was willing to lay down his life for her that hit her hardest. Unable to sort one feeling from another, she covered her face in her hands. Leaning against the headstone, she let the sobs sweep her away.
A LOW MIST SETTLED over the graveyard as twilight approached. Red-and-blue lights swirled outside the front of the chapel, and voices rumbled through the dim haze.
When Ash finally called with the go-ahead, Gray holstered his weapon and lifted Natalie into his arms. She circled his neck with her arms and held on, one foot dangling bare. She had stopped crying by then, but neither of them said a word.
She felt light in his arms, fragile. When he thought about how close she had come to getting hurt, not once but three times, it made him break out in a sweat. And after witnessing her fear and tears, it was obvious that the past couple of weeks had taken its toll.
He needed to take care of her, and the sooner he could get her someplace safe, the better.
Gray carried Natalie into the chapel where the Kendall family had gathered along with many of the other guests. They exchanged relieved hugs as officers took statements. Gray let her out of his sight only once, leaving her discussing plans with her aunt, uncle and brothers as he described his version of events to law enforcement.
As he returned to the nave to collect Natalie, Devin clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you. I know I was hard on you before, but…”
Gray waved away the rest. He didn’t need apologies. Not when everything Devin had ever criticized him for had been spot-on.
The moment he reentered the nave, Natalie’s eyes locked on his. She looked tired, her makeup smudged from crying, her dress covered in mud. Nasty bruises marred her knees. She padded to him, feet bare. “Rachel and Ash are calling off the reception.”
“Of course.” He’d never considered them going ahead with the postwedding party. Not in light of what had taken place.
“We have all these rooms at the hotel. We were all going to stay there after the reception.”
A hotel sounded like a good idea. But judging by the implications of Natalie’s words and tone, she didn’t agree. “And those plans have changed?”
“My aunt and uncle are going to stay. I don’t know about my brothers. But I just want to go home. Do you think that would be a problem? Devin said he has arranged for two security guards to be posted at the estate grounds all night anyway, and Ash promised police would drive by often.”
As much as he preferred the hotel idea, Gray found himself nodding. After all Natalie had been through, if she wanted to spend the night in her own bed, he was not going to deny her. “I think with three of us and police backup, you’ll be the safest woman in St. Louis.”
She gave him a smile.
“Do you want to go?”
“Please.”
She fetched her street clothes from the church office, slipped on her sneakers and coat and said her goodbyes. Outside, two uniformed officers circled outside the cemetery fence, walking along the street where Gray’s car was parked. After a few words with a lieutenant at the scene, confirming none of the guests had been seriously hurt, they were finally on their way.
Twice on the way back to the Kendall Estate, Gray noticed cars following. He turned off, taking circuitous routes. Both times, his paranoia was just that. Paranoia. By the time they wound through the gardens and spotted Natalie’s house, he was pretty sure both of them were totally wrung out.
They entered the house. While she showered, he peeled off his now-ruined tuxedo and pulled on jeans and an old flannel shirt. He doubted there would be much sleep for him. What he’d told Natalie at the chapel had been true. He really didn’t see any lone gunman making it past the two guards in the grounds and him. Hell, after today, the police would probably be looking over the place every ten minutes, as well. But it wasn’t fear that threatened to keep him awake. It was concern for Natalie.
He’d never been good at dealing with emotions, but Natalie’s crying jag in the cemetery had particularly scared him. Life-and-death stress like that was hard for special forces to take. For a civilian, it could be devastating.
He heated water and found the tea bags right where Natalie’s aunt said they’d be. He’d just filled a cup and plopped in a tea bag when Natalie emerged.
She padded out of the bedroom hallway wrapped in a fluffy robe. Her hair was dry and pinned up on top of her head. Her cheeks were rosy, a nice contrast from the stark paleness of her skin earlier.
He carried the steaming cup from the kitchen and met her in the living room. “I have some tea for you.”
She raised her brows. “Oh, please, tell me it’s not chamomile.”
“I hear it helps you sleep.” The slightly dry grassy smell wafted toward him on the steam.
“You’re worried about me having nightmares after today?”
He had to admit, it had crossed his mind.
She wrinkled her nose. “If I have to drink that stuff, I can guarantee nightmares.”
“Don’t like chamomile, eh?”
“I just don’t have the nerve to break it to my aunt Angela.” She crossed to bookshelves lining one wall and took a decanter down from one shelf. “How about scotch instead?”
He set the cup down. “Now you’re talking.”
She carried the booze to the kitchen, pulled out two tumblers and poured two fingers in each. Then they sat on the couch and sipped their whiskey.
The heat of the alcohol seared Gray’s throat and warmed his head. Slowly he felt the tension of the past two weeks unfurl from his muscles.
He couldn’t afford to have more than one drink. Natalie was safe with t
he men outside, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. Still, this was precisely what he needed. He hoped it was everything she needed, as well.
He eyed her, sitting a foot away on the couch, staring at the blank television screen. She’d been quiet since she’d poured their drinks and she had begun to worry her lower lip between her teeth.
“What are you thinking?” he said.
“Honestly?”
He nodded. He knew it could be dangerous to ask a woman that question, but he really wanted to know. And it was better she voice her concerns to him than dream about them tonight.
“I was just going over why you stood up in the graveyard, why you risked your life like that.”
“As I said, it’s my job.”
She shook her head, having none of it. “You say you regret your friend dying, that you feel you should have been able to save him.”
The warmth in his bloodstream turned to cold and his head started to ache. When he’d asked, he’d been trying to help her. He didn’t much like the spotlight to be turned on him.
Natalie watched him carefully and went on. “But that’s only part of it. You wish it was you who died in Yemen. You wish you had been killed instead of him, don’t you?”
Did he? Of course, he did. Not that Natalie could understand. “You don’t know—”
“Don’t give me that. I could have saved my parents. One scream and they never would have died.”
He nodded, remembering word for painful word each thing she’d told him days ago in the basilica. “But you were six years old. And you don’t know that you could have saved them. If it was the killer who came into your room that night, he might have visited you after they were already dead.”
She stared down at the tumbler in her hands. It took her a moment, but she finally looked back up into his eyes. “You couldn’t have controlled your situation any more than I could. Could you?”
Could he? He didn’t know. But he should have. “I should have seen the risk of the charges going off. I should have taken them myself.”
“Why? Your friend was doing his job, same as you.”
He shook his head. He didn’t expect her to understand. “Jimbo, he had a wife.”
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