by Jami Alden
“Chérie, you would be dead if she had her way. I could not let her live after she tried to harm you so. Don’t you understand, I will do anything for you, even kill those who try to do you harm.”
“You killed Andy, didn’t you?” She already knew it was true but wanted to hear him admit it.
Louis’s hand tightened painfully on her shoulder. “Vicious cow. She thought because that idiot Richard made her do it, she could get away with it.” He pulled away slightly and tilted Alyssa’s chin up to meet his gaze. “But I will not let anyone hurt you, you see?” His smile would have been tender if not for the half-crazed light in his eyes.
Christ, he really expected her to be grateful to him.
“You killed Richard, too?”
“Of course. After what he did to you, how could I not?” He shook his head. “And he tried to convince me it was all his idea, but I knew your cunt of a sister led him around by the balls.” He nodded in the direction of the black smear of blood Kimberly’s body had left on the concrete floor.
Nausea choked Alyssa. Louis had killed Kimberly, and Richard and Andy, too, all out of some twisted loyalty to her.
“But now you are safe, and we can finally be together.”
Safe? Alyssa bit back a hysterical bubble of laughter.
“We would have been together much sooner if your would-be savior hadn’t interfered,” Louis continued, his mouth pulled tight in disgust.
Derek.
“Yes, Taggart.”
Alyssa hadn’t realized she’d spoken his name aloud.
Louis’s eyes narrowed on her. “He has had you, hasn’t he?”
She shook her head, eyes widening in panic as his fingers closed over her throat.
“Do not lie to me. I suspected it all along, and now I see the truth in your eyes. But now you are with me. You will forget about him, erase his touch from your memory, until all you know is me. I will drape you in diamonds, give you everything your heart desires. You will be happy with me, chérie, you will see.” He smiled as his fingers loosened and slid across her throat in a mockery of a caress.
She struggled not to throw up. “You can’t expect me to go willingly after what you’ve done—”
All hint of affection left his face. “Your mother is very ill, oui?”
Alyssa nodded and felt tears slip down her cheeks.
“You want her to live, do you not?”
Alyssa nodded again.
“Then you will do as I ask, in all things.”
Alyssa closed her eyes, half wishing he would kill her. Death was preferable to what he had planned.
Derek slipped across the front of the warehouse. A cracked cinderblock lay in the driveway. Derek heaved it one-armed at the windshield of one of the black sedans.
The night exploded with the sound of shattering glass and the blare of the car alarm. Lights flashed, the horn honked, a siren wailed.
Derek crouched next to the car as two men rushed from the building, brandishing their guns.
He fired two quick shots at one, splintering his forearm and sending his gun flying. The other thug wheeled around and peppered the ground where Derek had been standing with machine-gun fire. Derek rolled around the other side of the car, popped up over the hood, and took out the thug with one shot to his gun arm and another to his kneecap.
The man fell, cursing and groaning. Derek ran past him, scooping up the machine gun the first one had dropped without breaking stride. He grabbed the other’s Glock and tucked it into his waistband.
He could hear Louis bellowing inside the warehouse as Derek slipped inside the door. He let fly with a round of machine-gun fire pointed away from Louis, Alyssa, and Louis’s two guards. Derek used the distraction to slip deeper into the shadows, ducking behind an abandoned crate.
Louis screamed in Afrikaans as his two men warily peered into the darkness, trying to get a bead on Derek’s position. One of his men fired as Louis made a break for the door, half dragging, half carrying Alyssa in his wake.
Derek raised his gun, aiming for Louis’s head.
A bullet sang past his ear, and he jerked back.
His shot went wide, slamming into the wall next to the doorway, but at least it halted Louis in his tracks. Alyssa took advantage of Louis’s distraction and jerked from his hold, balled her bound hands into a fist, and brought them up hard against the bottom of his nose. She followed that with a stomp of her lethal heel into the top of Louis’s foot. Louis staggered back, clutching his bleeding nose, and slipped his hold on her. But instead of running for the door as Derek hoped, Alyssa ran deeper into the warehouse, disappearing into the dark labyrinth of abandoned crates.
Louis took off after her. Machine-gun fire peppered the crate Derek was behind. He ducked down, felt wooden splinters embed themselves in his cheek. He popped back up, saw the barrel of the guard’s Kalashnikov glint in the dim yellow light. He took aim, squeezed off two quick shots, and was gratified by the sound of a meaty thunk of a bullet hitting flesh, followed by the thud of a body hitting the floor.
He rolled and belly-crawled silently across the floor as bullets hit the crate he’d been behind just seconds before. He stopped and rolled up to his knee, squeezing off one shot to draw fire.
The other guard took the bait. Two more shots, and the guard was facedown on the floor with a bullet between his eyes.
Louis was nowhere to be seen, lost in the dark cavern of the warehouse.
So was Alyssa.
Derek held himself perfectly still, so quiet he couldn’t even hear his own breath.
Nothing.
Then he heard it. A scuffle, a muffled, “No,” and he saw Louis drag Alyssa into the pool of light. He had a Glock 9mm in his hand, and it was pointed directly at Alyssa’s head.
“Drop your weapons and show yourself, Taggart.”
“I know you don’t want her dead,” Derek replied from his hiding place. He set the machine gun down, creeping around the side of the crate. His Sig was empty, so he tucked it into his waistband, trading it for the Glock.
“It is not my preference,” Louis said, lifting Alyssa up off the ground, holding her against his chest and blocking a head shot. “But if it comes down to a choice between her life and mine, I will not hesitate. Now come out where I can see you.”
Derek didn’t move.
Louis held up Alyssa’s hand, grabbed her pinkie, and snapped the bone before Derek could react.
Alyssa’s cry echoed through the warehouse, ricocheting through Derek like shrapnel.
“I may not want her dead, but I am happy to cause her pain. Perhaps you would like to watch me punish her for letting you touch her.”
Derek’s stomach roiled as Louis’s fingers closed over the ring finger of Alyssa’s right hand.
Alyssa slid down his body an inch, opening up a target. Derek raised the Glock, his thumb pausing over the safety.
He couldn’t do it. If it had been his own Sig, which he’d fired thousands of times, he wouldn’t have hesitated. He’d hit Abbassi with a double tap to the head and he’d be dead before he knew what hit him.
But he’d never fired the Glock before. Had no idea how it shot straight. If his trajectory was off, even a centimeter, he would hit Alyssa. He couldn’t do it.
Derek stepped from behind the crate and held his hands up, letting the Glock slip from his grip to land on the floor with a thud.
Time for Plan B.
Derek didn’t let his gaze linger too long on Alyssa, who cradled her wounded hand as she stood on shaky legs, her face sickly pale in the dim light, her eyes dilated with pain.
“Alyssa, I love you. It’s going to be okay,” he said, hoping his reassuring tone would penetrate.
“Yes, all will be well,” Louis said with a serpent’s smile. “Once I have dispatched Mr. Taggart, we will be on our way. Come closer, Mr. Taggart.” He took his gun from Alyssa’s head and aimed it at Derek.
“No.” Everything in Alyssa froze. “Please, Louis.” She yanked on his
arm, the pain of her broken finger fading in her adrenaline-fueled panic. “Let’s just go. I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t kill him.”
Louis gave her a vicious shove and sent her sprawling.
She scrambled to her knees, wondering if she could make it to the gun Derek had dropped before Louis could shoot either of them.
“Now turn around,” Louis said.
Keening sobs choked her. “I love you, too,” she whispered, and she knew she was going to watch Derek die.
“Fuck you,” Derek said. “If you want to kill me, look at my face while you do it.” Everything came into sharp, vivid focus. The harsh sound of Alyssa’s sobs, her sweet scent mingling with the sharper scents of fear, cordite, and spilled blood.
The cold blade of his knife pressing into his calf.
Louis’s finger tightening on the trigger.
Derek jerked to the side just as the deafening boom echoed through the warehouse, hissed as the bullet dug a furrow through the right side of his rib cage.
Derek landed and rolled, unsheathing his knife and throwing it even before he stopped moving. The eight-inch blade buried itself to the hilt in Louis’s upper right chest.
The last remnants of calm disappeared, lost in the killing rage that roared through Derek’s veins. Derek sprang on Louis like a panther, grabbing Louis’s gun hand and slamming it into the ground. Louis squeezed off a wild shot, and the gun went skidding across the floor. Derek eased up enough to grab the knife and yanked it out of Louis’s chest.
Louis howled in pain, clutching at his chest. With one savage slice of Derek’s arm, the howl turned into a death gurgle.
Derek smiled in savage satisfaction as the warm spray of Louis’s blood arced into the air.
As quickly as it had overtaken him, the bloodlust was gone. Now his only thought was Alyssa, relief flooding him as he realized she was finally safe.
“It’s over, baby,” he said, pushing to his feet and turning toward her. “Now let’s—”
His words froze in his chest, his relief turning to horror when he saw Alyssa lying in a crumpled heap, her thick, tawny hair sticky wet and black with blood.
CHAPTER 23
ALYSSA CRACKED HER gritty eyelids, wincing as white light stabbed her retinas and made her already throbbing head throb even more. God, this was even worse than her usual headaches, the pain not only pounding through her skull but stabbing and pulling at her scalp on the right side.
The pain in her head was joined by that of her hand, jolting up and down her arm to meet the pain in her head until the two joined forces somewhere in her neck.
She lifted her other pain-free hand to touch her head, jerking it away at the rough feel of bandages. Her eyes opened wider and darted around what looked like a hospital room.
Panic knotted her stomach as she remembered Kimberly and Louis. Maybe this wasn’t a hospital. They could be holding her again. She felt woozy, like she’d taken something. And this time Derek…
Oh, God, Derek. She remembered him dropping his gun, coming out from behind the crate, and Louis aiming his gun at him.
Derek was dead, and it was all her fault. She’d been stupid enough to go off with Kimberly, gotten herself in trouble, and now she’d killed the man she loved. Sobs tore at her throat, and tears spilled from her eyes. The pain in her body was nothing compared to this.
“Hey, it’s okay.” A low voice, husky with sleep, curled around her. “It’s okay, Alyssa, don’t cry.”
Derek. Was this a dream? A byproduct of the drug-fueled haze? She turned her head gingerly to the side, wincing as pain stabbed through her scalp.
“Easy,” Derek whispered, “you don’t want to put any pressure on this side.” She felt a weight settle on the bed next to her, and then his face was leaning above hers. Lines of fatigue carved deep grooves in his cheeks, and his eyes were ringed with dark circles. But his lips were pulled into a smile, his dimples in full effect as his eyes glittered with what Alyssa would have guessed were tears had it been any man other then Derek.
Then, to her utter shock, a drop of moisture trickled from the corner of one dark eye. He immediately brushed it away with his thumb.
“Are you crying?”
“You scared the shit out of me,” he said, not bothering to deny it.
“What happened? I thought he killed you.” Fresh terror spilled through her when the memory of Derek standing in front of her, a gun aimed at his head, sprang into her head as sharp and real as if it were happening all over again.
He curled his fingers around her uninjured hand as he recounted his superheroics as matter-of-factly as if he were describing a game at golf. “His bullet grazed your scalp and knocked you out. We were so lucky—” He broke off and closed his eyes. “When I saw you lying there, I thought you were dead. I—” He broke off again and brought her hand to his lips.
He didn’t need to finish. She knew exactly how he felt. “How bad is it?”
Derek swallowed audibly and forced a smile. “Well, you’ve got a few dozen stitches, a fucked-up haircut, and a broken pinkie, but overall you got off easy.”
“He killed Kimberly,” she said, still struggling to absorb the fact that her sister had been behind a plot to kill her. “And Richard, too.”
Derek nodded. “They dragged Richard’s body out of the bay last night.”
Alyssa closed her eyes against the renewed throbbing of her head. So many people dead. Thank God Derek had come for her. “Thanks for saving my life,” she said, wincing at how inadequate that sounded. “Again.”
His eyes squeezed shut, and he was silent for several seconds as he pressed another kiss to her uninjured hand. “Anytime, babe,” he finally said, his voice thick with tears.
She heard a thud outside the door, followed by muffled shouts. “What’s that?”
He shot a glare at the door. “Probably another reporter who managed to sneak through. They’ve been trying to get in all day. You think your life was a media circus before, you better brace yourself.”
His words, his annoyance brought back another painful moment. It hit her like a blow. Even though Derek had come to her rescue yet again, it didn’t mean he wanted to be part of her life and the chaos that surrounded it. Sure, he’d said he loved her, but she couldn’t bank on something he’d said when he’d thought he was about to get his brains blown out.
She started to slip her fingers from his, but he held tight. “I’m sorry,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “I know I said things to you last night, god-awful things I didn’t mean.” He broke off and shook his head. “I was angry at myself, and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair, and you didn’t deserve that. I should have known better than to let you put yourself in that situation.”
“Derek, that was my choice. I forced you to let me go, remember?”
“I could have stopped you if I wanted to. I should have done a better job protecting you. And when Harold hit you, I flew off the handle. I’m sorry.”
She flicked her eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze. “You’re right though. I did want to make it a media event, and not just to get back at my uncle, but to finally get some press coverage that didn’t depict me as a brainless idiot.” She lifted her eyes back to him. “But that didn’t give you the right to talk to me that way.”
“I know,” he said. “Believe me, if I could take it all back, I would. Please, Alyssa, I—” He broke off, cleared his throat, tightened his fingers around her hand. “I love you.”
Hope swelled in her heart, and she wanted to believe him, wanted to believe that made everything okay. But her wounds were still too fresh; she’d taken too many blows from people who claimed to care about her, only to turn on her. “I wish I could believe you,” she said, her head and hand starting to throb in concert, making it difficult to concentrate. “But it’s like every time I feel like you’re starting to care, you shove me away. And you know exactly what to say to hurt me.”
“Alyssa.” He closed his eyes and presse
d his head against her hand. When he opened them again, they were dark with regret. “I love you. I meant it when I said it last night, and I mean it now. I’ve never said that to any woman, because I never felt it before. And honestly, it scares the living shit out of me. You’re right. I don’t let people in. What happened with my mom made me”—he paused, screwing up his face like he tasted something bitter—“afraid to feel anything or care about anyone too much.”
“So what changed? How am I supposed to believe you’ve done this one-eighty?” Her heart hurt as much as her head, and she wanted to cry uncle already and throw herself into his arms. But she didn’t want to make another mistake.
A smile quirked his lips even as his eyes filled up again. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for you, Alyssa Miles. You’re a force of nature who came into my life and turned me inside out, and now all I can do is beg you to give me another chance.”
“Really? You really want to be part of the media circus that is my life? It’s not going to get any better. This is going to be a hot story for a long time, and they’re going to dig up everything they can find about me and the people in my life. It’s too late for you to avoid it completely, but if you get out now, it shouldn’t get too bad for you.”
A deep crease formed between his dark eyebrows. “I don’t want out. I just want you.” He slid off the bed and knelt on the floor. “See this, Alyssa. I’m begging you. In fact…” He stood up abruptly, walked across the room, and flung open the door. “Hey, you, get in here!” she heard him yell. “Moreno, let him go, get him in here.”
Seconds later, a short, weasely looking guy with a camera ducked in the room, his eyes lighting on Alyssa like he’d won the lottery.
Alyssa groaned when she recognized Charlie Farris, his camera flashing as he shot another exclusive series of Alyssa-Miles-in-the-hospital shots.
“Take it all in, dude,” Derek said, oblivious to the reporter and his history of photographing Alyssa. “You’re about to get one hell of an exclusive.”
He strode back over to the bed and resumed his kneeling position.