Chapter Four
“Did you think I was just going to sit around and let you ruin me?”
That voice. Recognition flared at the sound of that voice. Emma fought to open her eyes as rain pounded down on her face. She flinched against the brightness of a single streetlamp overhead. No. Not a streetlamp. The light was coming from…a boat? Her clothing had been soaked through, a chill sweeping down her spine as movement registered above her. “W-where am I?”
“Where no one will find you.” Carter Hudson—her former boss—centered himself in her vision. He rubbed his hand over familiar brown eyes, suddenly seeming older than he had a few months ago. She noted the double chin that hadn’t been there before, the receding hair line indicating the senator’s apparent stress. If he wanted her to apologize for the inconvenience her murder would have on him, he was going to be disappointed. “You should’ve just kept your mouth shut, Emma. None of this would’ve happened if you’d just done what you’d been told and looked the other way. You could’ve stayed in Columbia, maybe pocketed a few hundred thousand dollars of that money you were so keen on tracking down.”
Her head hurt. They’d been hit on the way to the safe house. Pain spread from the right side of her skull, pulsing in rhythm with her racing heartbeat. The last thing she remembered… Max. Where was Max? Her fingers tingled, and Emma tried bringing them forward, but rope bound her wrists and ankles. She tugged on the binds. In vain. Searching the dock, she wrenched her head up. Then she saw him. Unmoving. Unconscious. Bloody. Her heart seized for a fraction of a second. Max. “What did you do to him?”
Carter shoved his hands in his slacks pockets. “Can’t leave any witnesses, Emma. You know that. I’ve got a congressional seat to win. And you and your bodyguard there, my dear, have risked my campaign long enough.”
Ice worked through her veins. Max wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be. Because if he was…
Emma slowly, careful not to draw Carter’s attention, kicked off her shoes.
“I doubt you’ll win after everything goes public, Carter.” She’d told Max the truth. She had no intention of testifying against her former boss, not after his hired thug had attacked her. But she’d kept records of everything. Every transaction from those secret accounts. Every routing number. Every account number. Every amount. Every bank. Once the police recovered those files, Carter Hudson wouldn’t win his campaign, no matter how many mercenaries he hired. She wouldn’t let him. “I doubt you’ll even be able to keep yourself out of jail after I release those files.”
“What are you talking about?” Brown eyes narrowed on her through the increasing pounding of rain. Carter crouched beside her, soaked wood of the shifted as he fought for balance. “What files?”
“You hired me because I’m good at my job, senator. I was the only one who had access to those accounts aside from you.” She used every ounce of control she had left to lift one foot, pulling at the ropes around her ankles. She had to hurry. The longer the rope was exposed to the rain, the faster it’d swell around her. And, yes! The rope was loosening. But the cord around her wrists wouldn’t budge. She’d have to find something—anything—to cut through the binds. She just had to buy herself a little more time. “Did you really think I didn’t backup everything I’d found in case you turned on me?”
The lines etched into her former boss’s forehead deepened for a split second.
“You’re lying, and you’re very bad at it.” One corner of his mouth rose as though a fishhook had caught beneath his top lip. “IT never said anything about finding evidence you’d copied those files. You’ve got nothing. Throw her in the ocean.” Carter straightened. “Him, too.”
Two outlines peeled away from the shadows, and terror took hold.
“No. No!” She wasn’t going in the water. She wasn’t going to let them hurt Max. Emma struggled against the ropes at her wrists. She landed a kick to the back of one of Carter’s men’s knees when he hauled her to her feet. He hit the dock with a moan, and she rushed toward Max, but the second man charged with throwing her off the dock blocked her path. One step back. Two. Emma worked to swallow the sob building in her throat. She’d been trained to defend herself, not fight offensively. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs. She shook her head. “You don’t want to do this.”
“You’ve left me no choice, Emma.” Carter stepped beneath an umbrella one of his other men held overhead and exhumed a pair of black leather gloves from his jacket pocket. “And, hey, if you’re telling the truth, we’ll know soon enough, right? Given how everybody you ever cared about has abandoned you, I imagine you didn’t trust anyone but yourself with those files. Shouldn’t take too long to find them at all.”
Her breath matched the sound of the ocean as the muscles at the back of her throat constricted.
Two other men hefted Max to his feet as she backed to the edge of the pier. He wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead. Tears burned on her lower lash line as the seconds ticked by. Why wouldn’t he wake up? Carter was right. Everyone had abandoned her. Her father, her friends. But not Max. Her heel edged over the end of the dock. “A baby spider is called a spiderling. Honeybees recognize human faces…”
“And a crocodile can’t stick its tongue out.” That voice. His voice. Relief washed over her as olive green eyes settled on her. Max. He slammed an elbow into the man at his right.
Carter moved fast, faster than she thought possible, as he wrapped one hand around her injured arm, forced her to her knees, and withdrew his own weapon. A scream caught in her throat as pain streaked down into her fingertips.
Confiscating the gun in the second man’s waistband, Max knocked the other guy at his side unconscious with the butt of the weapon and shot the one who’d blocked her path in the thigh. All of Carter’s men lay unconscious or bleeding. “Now you…” The word growled from him. He raised the gun, blood drying along the side of his face from where he’d hit the driver’s side window of the SUV. “Get your damn hands off of her.”
*
He wasn’t going to lose her.
Not to the attacker with the knife. Not to a car accident. And not to the bastard drilling the barrel of a gun into her temple.
“I said get your hands off of her.” Max tightened his grip on the gun, the unconscious and bleeding bodies of Carter Hudson’s men at his feet. Emma shook at the senator’s side, soaked down to the bone, and he wanted nothing more than to pull this trigger to get her safe, warm. Because he’d seen the truth after she’d saved his life back at her childhood home. Everyone was broken; everyone had experienced pain, loss, suffering. The point was to find the person whose pieces fit best with his. And he was almost certain he had. In Emma. He loved the way she sprouted facts when she got nervous, loved the softness of her lips, loved her attempt at humor, and the way her eyes brightened when she smiled. Nobody would take her away from him. “Drop the gun, or I drop you.”
Carter Hudson sneered. Just like the good politician he was supposed to be. “I know who you are, Mr. Logan. I read your file, and I know your dirty little secret. See, that’s my job. How do you think I get my policies pushed up the ranks? It’s called leverage. And I’m not stupid enough to come down here without it.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” Max shot a quick glance to Emma. Fear—unfiltered and dark—etched into her expression.
“You were a rescue diver, weren’t you? Before signing onto work for Blackhawk Security. A career like that takes years of training, but you must’ve loved it to work for Anchorage PD so long. Almost ten years.” Carter’s knuckles whitened as he strengthened his grip on Emma’s injured arm. A small gasp escaped from between those perfect lips, hiking Max’s blood pressure higher. The bastard was hurting her to prove his point. That Emma was more than a client. “So tell me, Max, why you haven’t you dived since that last case of yours?”
Rage rushed—hot and furious—through him, his grip on the gun faltering.
“Is it because you watched yo
ur suspect drown for what he’d done to that poor girl?” The senator wrenched Emma into his side. “You knew you weren’t fit for police work anymore and couldn’t live with yourself for taking a life—even a guilty one—afterwards. Or is it because you’re afraid of losing another life you’re supposed to protect?”
No. He wouldn’t let this bastard get into his head. He’d made peace with what’d happened beneath the surface of that lake. He’d been cleared of charges. He’d moved on with his life. “Shut up.”
“Max?” Emma’s soft voice wavered, and every muscle down his spine tightened in response. Oh, hell.
“Poor Emma, Carter said. “You’ve been running for your life all these months, looking for someone you can trust, but it turns out, everyone’s a killer after all.”
Max flinched as Emma’s foot slipped over the edge of the dock. “Don’t.”
Keeping dark eyes on Max, the senator released his hostage.
Emma’s scream drilled through him a split second before she hit the water.
“No!” Shooting forward, Max pumped his legs as hard as he could, gun in hand. With her hands tied, she wouldn’t be able to get her head above the surface, not in these weather conditions. Rain battled to impair his vision, but he only had focus for Emma. Shoving Senator Hudson out of the way, he launched himself off the end of the dock, directly over where he thought she’d gone into the water.
Ice worked through him as he dove beneath the surface. Bubbles tickled across his exposed skin, but he couldn’t tell if they were from Emma or air trapped under his own clothing. Nothing but darkness surrounded him. Where was she? Reaching out, he brushed against one of the dock’s legs, and kicked himself deeper beneath the waves. Without his gear, pressure built in his lungs as his body cried for oxygen.
He had to get to her. Not because she was his client, not because his last case for Anchorage PD had carved a hole in his soul. But because he couldn’t stand the thought of walking through one more day of his life without her at his side. Less than twenty-four hours. That was all it’d taken for her to turn his life upside down. Everyone she’d trusted had turned their back on her. But he wasn’t going anywhere. Not without her.
His heart pounded hard behind his ears the deeper he swam. Despite the flood lights along the dock, he couldn’t see a damn thing this deep. Carter Hudson had probably taken this opportunity to escape, but Max didn’t care. His boss hadn’t assigned him this case to bring down a senator. She’d only wanted him to search for and protect a dark-haired beauty determined to disappear until she could testify. And he wasn’t finished with her.
For years, he’d trained to hold his breath, but Emma was running out of time. He pushed himself harder, forced himself deeper, and felt something brush across his arm. Not seaweed. No, something lighter, thinner. Hair. Shooting his hands out, Max locked onto flesh. He felt his way to her shoulders and pulled her in tight. Relief flooded through him as her fingers fisted in his T-shirt. She was still conscious.
He had to get them both to the surface. His muscles burned, his body screaming for oxygen as he kicked upward, her body tight against his chest. His training took over, giving him direction to the surface. They were going to make it. He’d keep her safe. Show her there was someone in this world she could trust. Even if it took him the rest of their lives.
Emma jerked out of his arms.
Her fingers brushed against his thigh as she stretched her hand out, but in the next moment, the tide ripped her away. His bellow barely reached his ears beneath the surface of the ocean.
He’d lost her.
Chapter Five
Cold.
She’d lost feeling in her hands, the rope too tight around her wrists. Dropping temperatures stole her body heat as she fought with the fishing line wrapped around her leg. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Strong hands had propelled her toward the surface a few seconds ago but disappeared in the darkness when the line had pulled her back to the ocean floor. Panic surged through her, and she shut her eyes tight, trying to calm her racing heart rate. The more she struggled, the faster her body would use her oxygen reserves.
Max. His name echoed in her head, over and over, combating her fight or flight instinct. All these months she’d been running from Carter and his goons, had to leave her friends behind, what was left of her family. She’d been so alone. Until he’d walked through her door.
Strong. Funny. Sexy as hell. Max Logan had given her a glimpse of a life without having to look over her shoulder, without having to run, or be afraid. In the moments they hadn’t been in danger, he’d made her laugh. Made her hope. Made her feel desired. And that kiss… She wasn’t ready for that to be their last kiss. No. She wanted more, needed more. Because for those brief seconds between them, she’d felt whole. Happy.
Emma slipped a thumb between the fishing cord and her jeans, but no matter how many times she tried, it wouldn’t break. She couldn’t let this be it. The ropes securing her wrists had swollen, cutting into her skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the pressure building in her chest. Every second she spent wrapped in the fishing line was another second stolen from getting to the surface in time. Trying to break the line wasn’t working. She had to find something to cut through it. She had to search the sand for a rock—anything—that would help. But getting to the bottom meant giving up precious oxygen.
She was out of options—
Steady hands wrapped around her, cutting the rope around her wrists, sliding down her body, down her leg. In an instant, the pain of the fishing line cutting into her vanished, and she was being pushed upward. Toward the surface. Her ears popped as flood lights pierced through the darkness. Her head broke through the surface, and she gasped for air before sinking beneath the waves a second time. She couldn’t swim with the ropes around her hands, but her rescuer kept them both afloat.
“I’ve got you, beautiful.” He spit sea water and pulled her in closer. “You’re safe with me. Just lie on your back, and I’ll take care of everything else.”
“Max.” She did as he instructed, her lungs trying to catch up with her thundering pulse. Feeling returned to her limbs with every breath as he swam them back to the dock. Within moments, he hauled her up the ladder, and she collapsed onto the old wooden planks. He’d saved her life. Again. “How did you know about the fishing line around my leg?”
“I didn’t.” Max panted beside her, his hand pressed into her lower back. Bringing her to his chest, he shared what was left of his body heat, and she wanted nothing more than to stay right here. With him. “I knew there had to be a reason other than you learning about my past to explain why you weren’t surfacing. Turned out, my instincts were right.” He pulled a small blade from his ankle and sliced through the ropes at her wrists.
“Max…” What he’d done. Letting a suspect—a man who’d destroyed lives—drown during the assault on his last case for Anchorage PD. Emma rolled her forehead across the dock planks, putting space between their bodies. It’d be easy to turn her back on him now, live in the fear she couldn’t trust him. His expression smoothed, shut down as though he were preparing for the worst, and she gripped his shirt to keep him from fleeing. Pain shot through her fingers as her nerves rushed with sensation, but it was worth every second if she could hold onto him a little longer. “You were fighting for your life in that lake. I will never judge you for choosing how to survive or for saving lives.”
“Hell, I want to kiss you again.” His gaze locked on her, and the past twenty-four hours—the attack on her at the cottage, shooting a gunman, nearly drowning, the unconscious men around them—none of it mattered. They’d survived. Together.
Movement registered over his shoulder. Emma latched onto Max’s arms and rolled him behind her, the dock bleeding into the same inky darkness as the ocean. Shoving to her feet, she stretched her arms wide as the sound of a bullet loading into a gun registered in her ears.
Carter Hudson took aim. At her. “What is i
t going to take for you people to just die?”
A growl vibrated through her as Max stepped forward. “A lot more than a gun.”
Emma jumped as a gunshot exploded across the dock, breath caught in her throat. Panic flared, hot and wild, as she scanned her body for fresh blood. “Max?”
He spun her toward him, shock evident in his expression, but upon closer inspection, she found he wasn’t the one bleeding either. Backing her behind him, he confronted the senator again. “I’m not hit.”
“Damn it, I am.” Carter Hudson sank to his knees, a suppressed groan escaping his chest as he clamped onto one of his calves. “Who the hell—”
Sirens and patrol lights stormed the dock’s parking lot. Within thirty seconds, Charleston PD officers were pulling Carter’s men off the ground and yelling for EMTs. Emma didn’t understand. How did police know where to find them?
A dark-haired man in a pristine suit and tie stepped around Carter Hudson. He’d shoved one hand into his slacks pocket, but the other held onto a gun. If Emma didn’t know any better, she’d say he’d stepped right out of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Charleston field office. Focusing on Emma, the shooter smiled. “Hello, Emma. I’m Holden Marsten. Glad to see Max has kept you alive.”
*
“Emma.” Max intertwined his fingers with hers, needing to feel her warmth, needing her. Exhaustion pulled at his muscles, but the nightmare was over. At least for now. There would be hearings, a trial, sentencing, testimony. Carter Hudson had connections, but if what Emma had said was true, that she’d kept records of everything during her time working for the bastard, the senator wouldn’t see daylight for a long time. No matter how many favors he called in. “I’d like you to meet one of the other rescue operatives on my team, Holden.”
Search and Protect Page 3