Chill

by Stephanie Rowe

  Leon collapsed beside her on the carpet, a precise bullet hole in the center of his forehead. Nate raised his gun to fire at Luke, and Isabella flung herself at his leg to knock him off balance. His gun went off as he stumbled, and Luke clasped his side and dropped to his knees. Blood stained his shirt almost instantly, and Isabella screamed, “Luke!”

  She lunged to her feet, but Nate grabbed her and flung her to the side. She crashed into a coffee table and went tumbling over it. A porcelain vase crashed to the floor, and Isabella rolled to her side as Nate raised his gun at Luke, who was hunched over on the floor.

  Luke dove behind the desk and shoved his hand beneath it as he went. The carpet exploded from Nate’s bullet, right where Luke’s head had been. Nate charged across the room, and then Luke rolled out on the carpet.

  Isabella had a split second to register he had a gun, and then he fired.

  Nate’s gun went off at the same moment, and the explosion was deafening.

  Nate crashed into the desk and bounced off of it. He rolled to the floor and landed on his back, blood oozing from a small circle right in the middle of his forehead.

  Luke was up on his shoulder, his face pale. “The guards. Free Marcus. He needs to call them off.”

  “But—”

  “Now!”

  Isabella heard shouts and immediately went to Marcus, who was sheet white and gaping at his son. She grabbed Leon’s knife and sliced through his gag.

  “Adam!” His voice was raw with anguish. “Adam!”

  Luke was down on his side now. “The guards,” he rasped. “Call them off.”

  The door was flung open and guards poured in, guns up.

  Marcus pulled himself upright. “Leon and Nate tried to kill us,” he snapped. “Untie me. Make sure they’re dead. Call an ambulance for my son. Now!” His voice was authoritative and demanding, his posture rigid.

  He had become the Marcus of old, and the guards obeyed immediately.

  Isabella raced across the room and dropped to her knees beside Luke. His hand was pressed to his side, and sweat beaded his upper lip. “Oh, God, Luke!” His face was ashen, and his mouth was twisted in pain. “Don’t you dare die on me!”

  She ripped her shirt off and wedged it beneath his hand. “Let me do it.”

  He groaned as she pressed the shirt against his wound. “Jesus, Isa. Are you trying to kill me?”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Of course I am. You tried to shoot me in the head. I owe you.”

  His eyes slitted open. “I knew you’d duck.”

  The tears spilled over and streamed down her cheeks. “What if I hadn’t?” Her shirt was saturated with his blood now.

  He raised one hand to touch her face. “I believe in you, Isa. I knew you would.”

  “Adam!” Marcus knelt beside her and opened a firstaid kit. “Don’t be an ass and die on me.” He pulled out a stash of gauze. “Here, Isa.”

  She switched the shirt for the gauze, and Luke let out a sharp gasp as she pressed it to his side. “Oh, God, Marcus. He’s bleeding so much.”

  “The ambulance is on its way.” Marcus cut more gauze. “Press harder!”

  “I’m trying!” She realized Luke’s eyes were closed. “Luke! Wake up!”

  His eyes flickered open. “I love you,” he whispered.

  “Oh, God, I love you, too! Don’t leave me!”

  “You’re better off—” He coughed, an awful gurgling sound. “It’ll never end if I live—”

  “No! Don’t you dare give up! I’m not better off without you. You make me whole, for God’s sake, Luke! I need you!”

  Luke’s eyes closed.

  “Oh, God, Marcus!” Isabella hammered at Luke’s chest with her free hand. “He’s letting himself die. Do something! Luke!”

  Marcus grabbed Luke’s arm. “Leon’s dead, Adam. It’s over. You can have your happily ever after with Isabella, dammit. It’s fucking over!”

  Luke’s breathing became shallower.

  “Luke!” Isabella shouted, sobs ripping through her chest. “Stay with me. I love you. You’re such an ass to pull this martyr shit right now.”

  Marcus bent over so his mouth was next to Luke’s ear. “I love you, son. You need to live so you can make me suffer for the rest of my life. If you die, who the hell’s going to make me pay?”

  For the longest moment, there was no response.

  Then the corner of Luke’s mouth turned up ever so slightly.

  And she knew he was going to fight.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Luke watched Isabella pace his hospital room restlessly. Her hands were on her hips, and her hair was shoved into a careless knot on top of her head. She was wearing jeans and a pair of sneakers. None of the perfection of when she had first arrived, and yet she carried it off perfectly.

  Around her neck was the pendant from her mother. A symbol that had been a threat when he’d first met her, because it had been an indication that she was the type of woman who cared too much. But now, he saw it only as his anchor, a reminder of the importance of believing in those you love. “Isabella.”

  She spun around. “You’re awake!” She ran across the room and flung herself onto him.

  Luke grunted and caught her, well aware she had been careful not to come near his injured side. “You do realize I’m only a few days out of major surgery, don’t you?” He caught her face and kissed her. It was the first time he’d had the energy to do more than a light peck, and he cherished the feeling of her body on top of his, of her lips against his.

  She made a small noise of pleasure, then pulled back. Her eyes were dancing. “Kaylie called. Cort woke up. He still pretty weak and has a lot of recovery ahead, but he’s going to be fine.”

  Something stung Luke’s eyes. “I knew that bastard was too tough to die.” He hugged Isabella fiercely. “Hot damn!”

  “I know.” She grinned at him. “Kaylie says to tell you that you owe them, though.”

  Luke nodded. “I know.” It was time to bring up the topic he hadn’t been willing to address until now. “Leon and Nate are dead, but as long as Marcus is alive, I won’t be safe, and those I’m with won’t be safe.”

  Isabella propped her elbows on his chest and rested her chin on her hands. She gave him an impatient look.

  “What’s that for? I’m being serious.”

  “You really think you can scare me with all that mumbo jumbo? I am already involved.”

  “No.” Luke trailed his hands through her hair. “I can’t go back to Alaska. I need to disappear again, and I can’t ask that of you.”

  “Ask anyway.”

  Luke scowled. “Isa. This isn’t a joke.”

  “Do you love me?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Of course I do.”

  She grinned, a brilliant smile that made her face light up. “I love you, too. Thank you for not killing Marcus.”

  “It was my only option. I had to take out Leon first.”

  “Was it?” She cocked her head. “I don’t think you wanted to kill him. I think you’ve finally realized he’s not a bad guy.”

  “Isa—”

  There was a light knock at the door. Luke turned his head as Marcus walked into the room. The bruise on his face had faded somewhat, and he looked more like the Marcus of old. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly coifed, and he had that persona of confidence and power.

  Luke stiffened. What? Had he expected the humbled Marcus to still exist now that his oppressors were eliminated?

  “My son.”

  Isabella rolled off of Luke, and Luke forced himself to let her go. There was no way he was showing how he felt about her in front of Marcus. “What do you want?”

  Marcus gestured at the seat next to the bed. “May I?”

  Luke shook his head. “I’d rather you not.”

  Marcus sat anyway.

  Luke scowled, then some of his tension eased when Isabella took the seat on his other side. She rested her elbows on the bed so her arms were br
ushing against Luke’s shoulder. The slightest contact, but it felt good.

  “Adam—”

  “My name is Luke.”

  Marcus nodded. “Luke. I want to apologize.”

  “For what?”

  “Your life.”

  Luke couldn’t hide his surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  Marcus removed a framed photo from his briefcase and handed it to Luke.

  It was the photo Isabella had described. Luke and his mother on a beach. “Mom.” He hadn’t seen a photo of her in so long. His chest tightened and he ran his finger over her laughing face. “I forgot how beautiful she was.”

  “I haven’t.” Marcus leaned forward. “I don’t know if Isabella told you, but after she died, I went after the men responsible. I killed every single one in cold blood.”

  Luke shot a surprised look at his father. “You didn’t even seem to care.”

  Marcus managed a tense smile. “I was raised to believe that men didn’t show emotion. I responded by taking revenge. Leon helped me. He was at each killing. I didn’t know it at the time, but he videoed them, and he later used them to force me to run the business as he wanted. After your mother’s death, I decided to leave the business. I wanted to take you and walk away. Leon had other plans.”

  Luke set the picture on his lap. “You could have disappeared.”

  “Like you did? You can be found, Luke. You should know that. I’d murdered seven men. If the feds found out, how long do you think it would have been until they took me away? And then what about you? No one to take care of you. You’d have ended up in foster care at age eight.”

  “Maybe that would have been better,” Luke muttered, then regretted his words when he saw Marcus flinch.

  “Perhaps.” Marcus leaned forward. “I couldn’t get out of the business, and so my choice was to make you so strong that it couldn’t hurt you. That’s why I brought you in and taught you everything. I wanted you to be strong enough to survive what I brought into your life. When you left, I covered your trail. Leon wanted to find you and get the earrings back, and I protected you.”

  Luke frowned at the earnestness in Marcus’s face. Felt the truth of it. But he couldn’t accept it. “Why?”

  “Because I wanted you to live.” Marcus shook his head. “When Leon killed Anna…I couldn’t stop thinking of Rebecca.” His voice cracked, and he pulled out a handkerchief. Wiped at his eyes.

  Luke averted his gaze to give Marcus privacy.

  “I realized the past would keep repeating itself. I felt your anguish at the funeral. It was like mine. I had visions of you reacting the way I had, of ruining your life forever by doing something rash, and then you did it. When you shot that decorator and I realized you were becoming like me—” He swore softly. “I would have done anything to get you out of there, to give you a chance to start over. I realized I had utterly failed to keep you safe. So, when you left, I let you go. I prayed for you to get a chance to start over. It was what your mother would have wanted. I was so glad when you got out.”

  Luke shifted, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and trapped in the small bed. He wanted to get up, get away from the tightness in his throat.

  “The buyer was furious, but I negotiated a substitute.” Marcus gave a tired smile. “Then a few weeks ago, we found the necklace, and Leon made a deal for the whole set. He thought I’d been holding on to the earrings all that time. When he learned I didn’t have them, he gave me a deadline to get them back.”

  Luke held out his hand, and Isabella put her hand in his. “So you sent Isa after me.”

  “She didn’t know.”

  “I know.” Luke squeezed her hand. “I know she didn’t.”

  She smiled.

  “I figured she could get the earrings from you and bring them back. She was the only one who knew where you were, or your new name.” Marcus shook his head. “I was so naive, thinking I could trick Leon.” Marcus looked at Isabella. “When I heard he’d shot you…” Tears welled up again. “Jesus, Isa. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, Marcus.” Isabella released Luke’s hand and ran around the bed. She threw her arms around him and hugged him. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Marcus hugged her fiercely and didn’t bother to hide his tears. “I had to hide my feelings for you when Leon was alive, because I knew he’d use you against me, just as he’d done with Anna.” He pulled back and framed her face with his hands. “You were my shining light these last six years. You gave me hope that maybe there was still some good in the world. No one had loved me since Rebecca, and I’d forgotten what it was like.”

  Luke was stunned by Marcus’s obvious love for Isabella. He hadn’t thought Marcus had the capacity to feel like that, but it was so apparent Isabella had broken through his veneer.

  Still holding on to Isabella, Marcus turned to Luke. “I’m shutting down the business. The public announcement will be that with Leon and Nate dead, I can’t continue. I have enough money to retire, and I’m going to walk away.”

  Too many years too late. “Congratulations.” Luke couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

  “No.” Marcus touched his arm. “What I’m trying to say is that it’s over, Luke. You don’t have to hide anymore. No one is left to come after you or your friends. I’ve already sent a bunch of money to Alaska to pay for your friend’s care, and I will continue to support him. It’s over, Luke. You’re free.”

  Luke stared in disbelief at the old man as the implications of Marcus’s words settled on him. Jesus. Marcus was telling the truth. He was free. After a lifetime of looking over his shoulder, he was free. He couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his face, and he wanted to stroll down the middle of the city of Boston in broad view, just because he could.

  “And you.” Marcus turned to Isabella, who was beaming at Luke from her place on Marcus’s lap. “I owe you, as well. For that reason, I’m turning over the legitimate side of my business to you. The store, my connections and all the contracts with the museums and universities. They’re yours, plus I’ll fund all your start-up costs.”

  Isabella was visibly stunned. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. My house is yours as well. You can redecorate it. It’s your home now, Isa.” He smiled. “I just hope you’ll let an old man come by for dinner on Sundays, just so he can tell you how much he loves you.”

  Isabella’s eyes filled with tears, and she flung her arms around Marcus. “Thank you!”

  Luke ground his jaw and pulled his gaze away from Isabella. Marcus had just given her everything she wanted. A home. A career. Financial security. And a father.

  “But I can’t accept it.”

  Luke jerked his gaze back to her.

  Marcus was frowning. “Why not?”

  “Because I want more.”

  Luke looked sharply at her, but she didn’t acknowledge him. She removed herself from Marcus’s lap and walked across the room. She sat down on the windowsill, resting her palms by her hips. She still didn’t look at Luke. “I love you, Marcus, but I don’t want to be a part of that world anymore. That house isn’t home for me, and I don’t want to spend my life searching for antiquities.”

  He frowned. “But I thought you loved it.”

  “I loved it because you came to me when I was in college and offered me a future. You offered me a PhD and a home and a career, and a place to call my own in this world.” She smiled. “For that, I thank you.” She finally looked at Luke, a passing glance that told him nothing. “But that was your dream, not mine. I want my own dream now, and I believe I can do it on my own.”

  Pride shone on Marcus’s face. It was a father’s pride to see his child finally stepping into her own skin. It was the look Luke had always wanted to create on his father’s face, the one he’d never gotten. To see him give it to Isabella…no one deserved it more than she did. He wanted to thank his father for that, for giving her that gift. He knew how much it would mean to her.

  “What are y
ou going to do?” Marcus asked her. “Where are you going to live?”

  Isabella shrugged. “I don’t know yet, but I’m okay with that.” She grinned. “I feel free now, and I know I can create the life I want. I’m not going backward.” She held her arms up over her head and lifted her face to the sun creaking through the windows. “The world is mine.”

  “That it is,” Marcus said softly, and Luke heard the envy in his voice.

  And for the first time, he looked at his father as a man. Not as an enemy. Marcus had given Isabella the gift of his love, an incredible thing. Luke couldn’t deny the pain his father had lived with for so long. He didn’t forgive his father, but at the same time…he was tired of hating the man. He wanted to let it go. He wanted to feel the love that Isabella had so generously given to both of them. He wanted to learn from Isabella and her relentless pursuit of love and those worthy of it.

  “Dad.” The word stuck in his throat, but at the same time, it felt good. Really, really good.

  Marcus shot a disbelieving look at him, and Isabella gasped.

  “You get to start over as well,” Luke said. “Where are you going to go?”

  Marcus hesitated and his shoulders became hunched, as if he were a little, timid boy. “If Isa isn’t going to be in Boston, then there’s no reason for me to be here.” He peered hopefully at Luke. “I was thinking of moving to Alaska. Learning how to fish.”

  Luke smiled, and something heavy fell from his shoulders. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that.”

  Hope flashed in Marcus’s eyes. “You wouldn’t kick me out?”

  Slowly, Luke shook his head. “No. I don’t think I would.”

  Tears filled his father’s eyes, and Marcus didn’t bother to hide them. “Adam—I mean, Luke. I have always loved you. I did a crappy job as a dad, I know I did.” His voice became raw. “But I did the best I could, I swear.”

  Luke nodded. “I know.”

  Marcus started to raise his arms, then dropped them. Luke grabbed his dad’s wrist and yanked him over.

  And for the first time in thirty years, he hugged his father.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE