B008DKAYYQ EBOK

by Joyce Lamb

  “So my plan,” Ramsey went on, “was to make it look like Jamie here and the old guy had had it with each other. Naturally, they had a major blow-up, and the next thing you know, Kincaidy-Waidy is dead on the floor and Jamie-Wamie is putting a bullet in his own head because the thought of going back to prison is just too much. Once that was taken care of, I get Kincaid’s business and everybody’s happy … no, wait, make that, I’m happy. It was a good plan. But then you”—he pointed the gun at Bailey, and she felt both Payne and Cole flinch on either side of her—”had to show up at the front gate and screw it all up.”

  “May I please have a towel?”

  Bailey started at the sound of Cole’s voice, feeling as if it had jerked her back from the edge of the hole. What did he want with a towel? Glancing down, she saw blood red and glistening on his shirt and khakis. Her heart jumped in alarm. What the hell? Her head started to spin, and she fought off the dizziness before it could pitch her into the dark.

  “There’s a first aid kit under the vanity in the bathroom down the hall,” Payne said. Everything about him screamed authority, even with his hands bound.

  “Nobody’s moving,” Ramsey said.

  “If she bleeds to death, you’re minus a hostage,” Cole replied.

  “Nobody’s going to bleed to death,” James snapped.

  “And, face it, Mr. Ramsey,” Payne said, “she’s your best ticket for walking out of here.”

  “It’s a head wound,” Ramsey snapped. “Head wounds bleed like a bitch. She’s fine. Now let’s discuss how we’re going to wrap this up. In case you morons haven’t noticed, the cavalry ain’t coming. My people can hold them off all night.”

  Payne stood. “Listen, Mr. Ramsey, I don’t know about the others, but you’re getting on my nerves.”

  Ramsey leveled the gun at him. “Sit down.”

  “What the hell are you doing?” James yelled at Payne.

  “He’s challenging me,” Ramsey said. “Trying to intimidate me with his calm demeanor. He’s good, isn’t he, James? Scared the bejesus out of you with that façade for many years. Didn’t take much for him to make you his bitch. He tried it with me, too, but it didn’t work. ‘Cause I had other plans.”

  “Yes, you’re very clever, Mr. Ramsey,” Payne said. “I’m impressed at how well you’ve handled this situation.” He glanced at James. “How many federal agents do you suppose are out there, James?”

  James smiled slightly. “At least a hundred.”

  Fear gripped Bailey as she realized he was lying. If there were really that many feds, they would have overpowered Ramsey’s renegades and busted in by now.

  “Hmm,” Payne said, cradling his tied hands under his chin and thoughtfully scratching his razor stubble with one knuckle. “And how many bullets do you suppose Mr. Ramsey has in that gun?”

  “I’m guessing it doesn’t come close to a hundred,” Cole said.

  “I don’t need a hundred bullets. All I need is the wounded, delicate woman.” Ramsey turned the gun on Bailey. “Get up.”

  Payne stepped to the side, putting himself between Ramsey and Bailey. “That would be a mistake,” Payne said.

  Ramsey’s white teeth gleamed. “Actually, that was a mistake.”

  He pulled the trigger. The shot was all but silent, but Payne twitched at the same time that Cole lunged across Bailey’s to shield her. Over Cole’s shoulder, she saw Payne sink to the floor and James rush at Ramsey from the side.

  Ramsey turned and fired again, and James fell forward as if his legs had been kicked out from under him.

  “Jamie!”

  Cole scrambled up and tackled Ramsey around the knees. Both men grunted, and Bailey pushed herself off the sofa, ignoring the sickening whirl in her head, and searching frantically for a weapon, any weapon. She spotted the gun on the floor that James had dropped earlier and lunged for it.

  She had it in her shaking hands when Ramsey said, “Bad idea, sweet cheeks. Very bad idea.”

  She turned in dread.

  Ramsey was on his back on the floor, Cole towering over him with the panther sculpture ready to smash down on him. Ramsey aimed his gun at Cole’s chest.

  Behind Cole, James writhed on the floor, groaning, a bloody hand clamped to his upper thigh. Payne Kincaid lay still as death at the foot of the sofa.

  “First things first,” Ramsey drawled, unperturbed. “Lose the cat, Hercules.”

  Cole hesitated, as if knowing he would be giving up his only crack at Ramsey.

  “Do it or I’ll shoot you and then I’ll shoot her,” Ramsey said.

  Cole tossed the sculpture aside.

  “Finally. A man who can follow orders. Your turn, sugar pants.”

  Bailey tightened her sweaty hand on the butt of the gun, her head suddenly, surprisingly clear. James had gone still behind Cole. “If you kill him,” she said, “you’re down to one hostage.”

  “You must have not been paying attention earlier when I said that you’re all the hostage I need.”

  She aimed the pistol at her own head. “If you shoot, I shoot.”

  Cole didn’t shout. He roared. “Don’t!”

  Ramsey smiled slowly. “I’m with him, but for different reasons.”

  “Then you should drop your gun.”

  “I’m not doing the Mexican standoff with you, sweetie.”

  “Technically, this isn’t a Mexican standoff because we’re not aiming at each other. That could be arranged, though.”

  “Bailey, no.”

  She heard the distress in Cole’s voice but kept her gaze steady on Ramsey, who wet his lips as if he’d scented a red, juicy steak after being forced to eat salad for a year. “If I shoot lover boy dead, there’s no freaking way you’ll pull that trigger. Want to know how I know?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “‘Cause your brother’s got the cutest little rugrat who’s going to go into a very messed-up child care system if he doesn’t have a guardian. You know what can happen to cute little boys when they’re taken in by dirty old men?”

  “You can’t provoke me with that crap, Ramsey.”

  He laughed. “Oh, ho, you’re a tough one. I love that in a woman.” He cut his gaze to Cole, who stood rigid at his feet, face nearly purple with rage. “How is she in bed?” Ramsey asked. “Does she scream when she comes?”

  “Fuck you, Ramsey,” Cole said through gritted teeth.

  “If she doesn’t scream when she comes, you’re probably doing it wrong. I’d be happy to show you how it’s done right now.”

  “He’s baiting you, Cole,” Bailey said.

  Cole swallowed carefully, his eyes shooting laser beams of hatred at Ramsey. “I picked up on that.”

  Ramsey’s grin widened. “You people are no fun.” Then he shrugged. “All right then, guess I’ll just have to shake things up a bit.” He swung his gun toward Bailey.

  At the exact moment that Cole lunged forward, Ramsey jerked his weapon back toward him and pulled the trigger.

  Cole reeled back.

  Bailey screamed. “No!”

  Ramsey bolted to his knees and leveled the gun at her, braced with both hands. “Drop it or I drop you.”

  She stared at Cole on the floor. Blood was soaking the front of his shirt. He wasn’t moving. White noise filled her head.

  “Hey!” Ramsey shouted.

  She focused on him. She’d never felt hate before, but she felt it now. Its poison slithered through her soul like a dangerous snake.

  Ramsey wasn’t smiling anymore. He aimed at Cole’s forehead. “I’ll finish him, and then I’ll finish your brother.”

  Her palm was slick on the butt of the pistol, her finger trembling on the trigger as she debated the chances that she could get off a deadly shot before he could. They weren’t good. He was a thug, and she had never pulled the trigger on a gun any more threatening than a water pistol.

  “The thing about patience,” Ramsey said, “is that I don’t have a lot of it.”

  She let the gun fall and stumbled
toward Cole, falling to her knees beside him. She leaned over him, shook his shoulder. “Cole!” She felt the muscles in his arm bunch under her fingers just before Ramsey hooked a hand around her elbow and hauled her up.

  “Sorry. No time for goodbyes. Let’s go.”

  Bailey whirled and nailed him in the temple with her fist. The impact sang up her arm and drilled into her head, but she instantly swung out at him again, driving him back in surprise. He tripped over James’ foot and landed hard on his butt. His gun bounced out of his hand, landing just out of his reach.

  Bailey scooped up the weapon she’d let go of and aimed it at his face. All she had to do was stall. Cole wasn’t dead. She’d felt him move. He wasn’t dead.

  Ramsey stared up at her, looking stunned. Then his grin returned at full wattage. “You don’t know shit about guns, do you?”

  “You just point and shoot. What’s to know?”

  “Ever heard of a safety?”

  She flipped the tiny lever near her thumb. “I’ve heard of it, yeah. Thanks for the reminder.”

  His smile faltered. For the first time all night, anxiety wrinkled his forehead. “You don’t have the guts.”

  Like hell. He’d just shot people she loved. Adding her to the list of casualties could mean a life of heartbreak and pain for Austin. If only her hands weren’t trembling so hard she could barely keep him in the gun’s sights. A black frame kept trying to crop her vision down to a small square, but she willed the weakness back and forced herself to focus on Ramsey.

  “But I’ve got balls. Remember? And you just killed the only man I’ve ever loved.”

  Uncertainty clouded Ramsey’s cold eyes. “What do you say you and me make a deal?”

  “She can’t be bought, you idiot.”

  Bailey gasped at Payne’s ragged voice and shifted her gaze over Ramsey’s shoulder for a split second. It was all he needed.

  He clambered up, knocked the weapon away from her and backhanded her hard.

  She hit the floor. Tasting blood, her cheek on fire and her senses whirling, she crab-walked backward, away from Ramsey as he retrieved his pistol and stalked her, a lethal smirk curving his lips.

  Her back encountered the unyielding wall, stopping her retreat, and as he leaned over her, she tensed, ready for him to hit her again.

  But instead of striking her, he tangled his free hand in her hair and dragged her forward. “Now for the real fun,” he said.

  She yelped, bucked, writhed, twisted. He rammed her head back against the wall. She went still, stunned as red fireworks exploded before her eyes. Her knees would have buckled if he hadn’t held her up.

  “Behave or I’ll smack you again,” Ramsey said.

  She kneed him in the groin, her aim a bit off but close enough to cause him to grunt and wrench back. “Stupid bitch.”

  Without his support, she slid down the wall and braced for the blow, expecting he’d either kill her or knock her unconscious with the next one.

  A gunshot exploded.

  Bailey recoiled.

  Ramsey fell on her, and she screamed, hitting at him, trying to fight him off.

  His weight disappeared, lifted away as if by a great gust of wind, and then a strong arm was pulling her to her feet and gathering her against a warm, hard body.

  “Easy, easy.”

  She recognized his voice and scent. Cole.

  She wrapped her arms around him with a relieved cry. “I knew I felt you move.”

  “The guy’s a lousy shot. He missed my chest by at least three inches.”

  She pulled back to look him over. “Where did he get you?”

  “It’s just a flesh wound.”

  “Oh, God.” He looked like he’d been shot more than once, between her blood on his pants and his blood drenching the left side of his shirt where Ramsey’s bullet had gone through his shoulder. “That’s not a flesh wound,” she said, her voice dull with horror. The floor tilted under her.

  “I know, but isn’t that what I’m supposed to say?” He slipped his good arm around her, drew her against his uninjured side. “You don’t look so hot. Are you going to faint?”

  Somewhere in the distance, she heard men shouting. “Federal agents!”

  Bailey smiled, vaguely aware of the kisses Cole pressed to her forehead, her cheek, her mouth. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not going to faint. I’m done being such a sissy.”

  * * *

  When her eyes rolled back, Cole caught her against him and slipped down the wall until he sat on the floor. Cradling her on his lap, he pressed two fingers to the pulse in her throat. Feeling the strong, reassuring beat helped clear the fuzziness from his brain.

  “Is she …”

  He turned his head, saw James watching from where he lay on the floor, his face pale from blood loss and terror, lines of strain etched on either side of his nose.

  “She’s going to be fine,” Cole said, then leaned his head against the wall. He hadn’t thought she was going to be fine when she’d been pointing that pistol at her own head, and again when Ramsey had been aiming at her. Cole had thought he’d never again know such wrenching terror, only to have the moment topped when Ramsey cornered her against the wall.

  Cole had spied James’ gun resting on the floor about three feet away. Rage had carried him to it, but stone cold calm had pulled the trigger before Ramsey could strike Bailey again. He didn’t imagine that he would ever feel guilty for shooting the brutal bastard in the back.

  A man dressed in black paused at Cole’s feet. “FBI” was stitched on his cap in gold thread. “Yeah, we need an ambulance,” the agent said into his collar.

  Cole gave the agent a bone-weary smile. “You guys missed the party.”

  “We ran into some strong resistance outside. It’s under control now.”

  Bailey stirred on his lap. Cole bent over her, ignoring the answering pain in his shoulder as he planted a soft kiss on her lips to calm her. He smiled when hers parted in response. “Welcome back,” he murmured against them.

  “What’d I miss?”

  “Nothing big. A couple of feds did some magic tricks.”

  Her eyes widened. “Jamie—”

  “Take it easy. He’s fine.”

  James grunted. “I’m not fine. I’ve been shot in the freaking leg.” He laid his head back and groaned. “Christ, I guess it could be worse.”

  “See?” Cole said. “Perfectly fine.”

  Bailey sighed. “I can get up now.”

  Sure you can. “Let’s just sit here until the ambulance comes, okay?”

  “Ambulance? I don’t want to get into an ambulance.”

  “He knocked you a good one, sweetheart. Even as hard as your head is, it’s not impervious to injury.”

  She smiled.

  “What’s that about? I know you’re not smiling at the thought of someone sticking you with a needle.”

  “You called me sweetheart.”

  “You like that?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Good, because I’m going to be doing it a lot.”

  “Okay.”

  Chapter 51

  Nine months later

  Bailey lit the last candle and clasped her unsteady hands together. Her gaze fell on the small, wrapped box sitting on the coffee table, and her stomach jittered. Thinking fresh air would help calm her down, she opened the door that led to her balcony and stepped outside into the crisp December night. Overhead, the clear sky looked like black construction paper dotted by the tip of a silver marker.

  The past nine months had been a whirlwind. Payne Kincaid had survived being shot by Ramsey and was singing for the feds like a barbershop quartet. With everything Payne was telling the government about his own operation and customers, James was off the hook and witness protection was not necessary. Not that Payne was singing for all he was worth out of the goodness of his heart. He was smart enough to know that cooperation would get him out of prison much sooner than letting a jury decide his fate.

>   Likewise, James’ cooperation with the feds was rewarded with a light sentence of time served and five years of parole. Six months ago, he’d landed a job in the information technology department at The Kendall Falls Sun. It still blew Bailey away when he’d walk through the newsroom and toss her a grin and a wave.

  In the meantime, Austin was showing his father how to outsmart video game villains. Turns out, Austin’s affinity for the games must have been genetic, because James was a pro. The last time she and Cole had had dinner with them—two nights ago—James and Austin had folded their pieces of pizza, in perfect synchronization, before chowing down. Bailey had laughed, exchanging a glance with Cole, who shrugged and said, “Like father, like son.”

  Now, she was looking forward to tomorrow night—Christmas Eve—like she hadn’t in years. James and Austin were going to meet Cole’s niece and nephews. Cole’s father would be there, too, though he was well acquainted with James and Austin already. The man had turned out to be an unexpected father figure for her brother, and James had begun to do something she hadn’t heard him do since before his wife died: laugh.

  A knock at the door had her hurrying off the balcony and inside, her heart racing. But when she opened the door, Cole wasn’t there.

  “Hi!” Austin said, throwing his arms around her waist and hugging her.

  Bailey smiled at James as she returned her nephew’s hug. “I thought you boys were going to see a movie.”

  “We are,” her brother said, grinning. He looked happy and healthy, tan. Life was agreeing with him. “Austin wanted to show you something before we go.”

  “Oh?” She looked down at her nephew and found him beaming up at her, a gap in his front teeth. Her stomach flipped. “Oh my gosh, you lost your first tooth!”

  He nodded, wiggling the tip of his finger into the gap. “The Tooth Fairy’s going to give me money.”

  “How much do you think it’s worth?” she asked.

  “At least twenty.”

  She arched a brow. “Cents?”

  Austin rolled his eyes. “Dollars.”