Bad for Her

by Christi Barth

  Delaney eased into a chair. Gestured to the others around the oval table and waited to speak until all three Maguires sat their butts down. “Danny McGinty is out of the hospital now, which made it much easier to get intel. Yes, you’re still being talked about. But it’s only to curse your name, and Flynn’s. Well, along with promising to whack you when you go back to testify.” She waved a hand through the air to dismiss the idea as easy as waving off an annoying waiter. “But we won’t let that happen. The point is, there’s no reason to suspect they have any idea where you are, or as to your new identities.”

  “Great.” Rafe exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. With an opposite reaction, Kellan’s knee started jiggling like crazy and he slapped Rafe twice on the thigh. Guess his little brother was more excited than relieved.

  “It is great.” Flynn laid his forearms along the table, leaned forward, then tilted his head to face Rafe. “Doesn’t tell us who the blackmailer is, though.”

  Delaney tapped a bright red fingernail against the file she’d pulled out of her big purse. “Actually, that’s why I popped down to your neck of the woods.”

  “Aww, and here I was sure it was because you wanted to see me.” Kellan flashed her the panty-drop smile. Again. Rafe didn’t know why he bothered, since it hadn’t worked the first hundred times he’d tried it on her.

  “We’ve pinpointed who sent you the blackmail letter.”

  Rafe all but catapulted across the table to grab the folder. The moment he flipped it open, his brothers’ heads were right there next to his.

  An ID photo was clipped to the top of an arrest warrant. Well, an ID card—one with FBI in tall blue letters. The man in the picture, the man who’d put them into a spin cycle of anxiety, had a bad comb-over. Rafe felt a little like Capone must have when he got arrested for tax evasion.

  Flynn peered closely at the picture. “This is the dirtbag who scared us shitless?”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m plenty regular. I think it’s the cranberry juice they’ve got around in big pitchers at the plant.” Kellan must be a little giddy to be discussing how often he crapped in front of Delaney.

  But damn, if it wasn’t good to stop worrying.

  “He looks like a middle-management nobody,” Rafe said.

  Delaney huffed out a half laugh. “That describes Special Agent Marvin Jessup to a T.”

  “Marvin?” Flynn shoved the folder back over to her. “Hell, no. I can’t believe a Marvin did this to us.”

  Rafe asked, “Who is he?”

  “Agent Jessup was brought onto the case locally as the FBI liaison to the Marshals Service. It gave him the authority to review all our joint task force cases. It was easy to track him down, since so few people have access to any level of your information. He assumed—which is shocking, given that he’s a trained FBI special agent—that anyone in WITSEC was both guilty and hiding a ton of money. The same letter got sent to two other protectees under the umbrella of the Eugene Field Office.”

  “Okay.” That was more proof that it wasn’t personal. That it had been a wide net of a money grab. Rafe figured he’d have to light a candle and say a Hail Mary over this whole affair ending so fast and neat. It was what his mom would’ve wanted. It was nice doing things for his mom’s memory every so often.

  Kellan lifted an index finger. “Now that you’ve identified the perpetrator, what’s the next step?”

  Delaney wrinkled her nose. Like smelling a dead fish washed up at the edge of Lake Michigan. “It turns out that he was already under investigation for stealing drugs from evidence lockup and reselling them. He’s an idiot, and an embarrassment. But we don’t believe he’s a real threat. He only knows your current identities. Period. No way at all to trace you back to Chicago or the McGinty case.”

  Flynn high-fived Rafe, then reached over to do the same to Kellan.

  “In case you didn’t notice the arrest warrant when you purloined my confidential government file,” she stared down her nose at Rafe, “Jessup is being taken into custody as we speak. We discussed your case with the Chicago team and don’t see any point in relocating you.”

  This time Kellan started the round of high-fives.

  “You also get a massive official apology from the Marshals Service. This never should have happened. We’ll be reviewing personnel files of everyone connected to both the FBI and Marshals offices for the whole state, and adjusting the criteria for interagency liaisons.”

  Delaney looked both mad and embarrassed. It put Rafe right where he wanted to be to press this sudden advantage. “I don’t think an apology is enough. For what we went through. For Christ’s sake, we thought they’d found us.”

  “You did the right thing, bringing it to me. I always said you were smart. Following the rules is the smart call, every time. But I agree that you were subjected to undue mental anguish. What do you want? A trip to Oakland Coliseum the next time the Cubs play the A’s? Pizza flown in from Giordano’s?”

  “I want something better.” Rafe kicked back until his chair was only on the back two legs. Then he crossed his arms over his chest. Because damn, if it wasn’t fun to be negotiating from a position of power one last time. “I want a favor.”

  Kellan groaned and clutched his stomach. “Dude. You’re really going to turn down the pizza? She’s worth that much to you?”

  Delaney’s head snapped up. “There’s a ‘she’? Rafe Maguire, what have you done?”

  “Something I never planned on, I swear.”

  Chapter 23

  Two coffees and three doughnuts later—the sugar made the caffeine work better, in her vaunted medical opinion—Mollie was still not in the mood. Not in the mood for the baby who vomited on her shoes. Not in the mood for the nurse who’d read a chart wrong, thereby leaving a dementia patient alone in a room with a tray full of hypos loaded with vaccines for Africa.

  And now that it was finally her lunch break, she was definitely not in the mood to be paged from the clinic over to see a patient in room seven at the hospital. Most days, helping patients genuinely lifted Mollie’s spirits. Today? The thought of her sandwich with ham, extra swiss, and grainy mustard was the only thing that dragged her through the morning. She didn’t even remember the patient in room seven. Probably another charting mix-up that required zero actual patient care but would keep her tied up just long enough to make lunch an impossibility.

  Because apparently, when you fell in love with an ex-mobster, everything else in your life got just as complicated.

  Crappy.

  Oh, and look. No chart in the holder outside the door. That translated to an automatic five minutes minimum of no-lunch spent asking the patient questions that were already answered and written down—somewhere. Mollie’s stomach growled embarrassingly loud as she straight-armed the door.

  “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Vickers,” she said to the pretty blond woman in the bed. “What’s bothering you today?”

  “Too many things to count individually. How about we lump it under one main pain in the ass?”

  “All right. Is it a sudden onset, or has this been bothering you for some time?”

  The door clicked shut behind Mollie as the woman grimaced. “It’s been six months of constant pain and annoyance.” She pushed the button that lifted the bed to a seated position. The covers fell down, revealing that she wore not a hospital gown, but a blazer over a pale blue button-down. “Sadly, I’m certain you’re going to make it worse before it gets better.”

  Great. Now she’d lose another five minutes while the patient changed into a gown so that she could be examined. Mollie patted her on the leg, forcing a smile. “Well, that might be true. But I’d like to make you as pain-free as possible in the interim.”

  “Does that go for me, too?” Rafe stepped out of the darkened bathroom.

  Mollie’s head whipped around. “What are you—Rafe, get out of here right this minute!” She snapped her arm toward the door as she tried to shoot an apologetic glance at the
patient. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry about this.”

  “I told you he was a pain in the ass.”

  The surprises just kept coming as Rafe’s brothers lined up behind him while the patient got out of bed. Her blazer gaped open as she stood, revealing a holstered gun and a badge.

  Mollie gasped as her brain started to race to conclusions. Was she a fellow mobster? If so, was she here to kill Rafe, or to ask him to come back? Friend or foe? Not just for the curiosity factor, but because Mollie’s first priority was the safety of the patients in the hospital. She couldn’t risk a hailstorm of bullets.

  A quick peek at the Maguires didn’t show any visible guns on them. But in the movies, weren’t they always tucked down the backs of their pants?

  “Don’t freak out.” Rafe moved slowly, one hand out, as if Mollie were the one with the lethal weapon. “You’re safe. This is Delaney Evans, the U.S. Marshal in charge of our protection.”

  “Nice going, Marshal.” Kellan made a tsking sound. “Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of being undercover if you flash your gun five seconds after she walks in the door?”

  She tugged her jacket into place, then buttoned it. “Doesn’t it defeat the purpose of being undercover if you people share your life story with every pretty woman you come across?”

  “Hard to tell. Seeing as how I only have eyes for you.”

  Flynn backhanded the side of Kellan’s head. “Cut it out.”

  They all seemed very comfortable. Mollie, on the other hand, was about to jump out of her skin. Apparently she didn’t handle being blindsided well at all. “What is going on here?”

  The marshal crossed her arms. “Rafe’s got something he’d like to say to you. I’m here to watch your reaction, so I can assess for myself just how trustworthy you are. Sorry about the audience, but that’s just the way it needs to be.”

  Flynn spread his hands, palms up. “We’re here because we’re all in this together now.” He threw his older brother a look more lethal than the gun in the room. “We weren’t in it together when Rafe was feeling you up in the forest or deciding to put us all at risk by telling you who we really are, but we’re in this together now.”

  “Do not talk to Mollie like that.” Rafe’s voice was threatening. But it was nothing compared to his thunderous expression and the way the cords along his neck popped out. Like skin and willpower alone were holding back the violence within him trying to get out.

  He flinched and dipped his head. “Sorry. Honest. I’m pissed at my brother, not at you, Doc.”

  Mollie couldn’t fix their obviously strained family dynamics, but she could put everyone’s fear at ease. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now. I do, however, promise that I won’t breathe a word of what Rafe told me. As a doctor, it’s my responsibility to keep intimate details confidential every day. You can trust that I’ll keep your secret, too.”

  “Thank you.” Kellan gave a sharp nod. “You didn’t ask to be dragged into this situation. Knowledge can be a burden. I’m, ah, well aware of how uncomfortable it is to have something like this—exactly like this—dropped on you. We’re sorry about that.” Then he grabbed Flynn by the elbow and dragged him back into the bathroom.

  Rafe took her hands. Led her over to the bed and gently pushed on her shoulders until she sat on the edge of it. “Ignore them. This is about you and me, Mollie. You asked me a question Saturday night. You said, don’t you know you can trust me?”

  “I remember.” That had been the most painful sentence she’d ever flung at a man. At anyone. It had ripped straight from her heart and out of her lips.

  “I didn’t know that I did. Hadn’t given it any thought. That was disrespectful to you. Hell, everything I’ve done since we met has been borderline disrespectful. Kissing you on the side of the road. Lying to you day and night.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, you’re quite the cad.”

  Delaney snorted.

  His grip shifted to interlace their fingers. “I kissed you because I couldn’t resist you. I lied to you because I didn’t have a choice. Not according to the federal government, anyway. I made fun of your town because . . . well, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little strange. And if it made you worry that I didn’t like it here well enough to stay, then I’m sorry about that, too.”

  “Can I make fun of Chicago to get even?”

  Delaney laughed, and tried to turn it into a cough to cover it up. Rafe winced. “How about we hold off on that until the end of the negotiations? The point is that I said those things, even if they were over the top, because I felt like I could open up and say anything to you. Be myself. Even if I didn’t entirely know who that was. Rafe Maguire’s new to me, too. I’m still figuring out who he is. I’m figuring out fast that he’s the man I’ve always wanted to be. Who I was meant to be. The man I’m most comfortable being.”

  “I like that man, too,” Mollie whispered. That’s what she kept coming around to. No matter what he had or hadn’t told her about his past, they were living in the present. That’s the Rafe she knew and adored.

  Some people kicked drug or alcohol addiction. Learned to control their anger. Changed religions or political parties. Judging what they used to be was fruitless. Unnecessary. Accepting their present selves was the only answer.

  He’d given up his criminal life, his entire life to save his brother. That single action spoke volumes about Rafe Maguire. Add in his determination to stand by his word no matter what, the way he helped Jesse, the fact that Frieda and Mick already liked and respected him, and the thoughtful way he treated her? It all added up to one heck of a man.

  A man who’d reinvented himself, a phoenix rising from the ashes of his old life into something better and brighter.

  A man she’d be proud to call her own.

  As long as the government didn’t drag him away. Because of what she knew now.

  Rafe swallowed hard before continuing. “The man I used to be? The bad, dangerous one? That’s part of me, too. Always will be.”

  Mollie didn’t mind. She liked the rough edges. A lot. “Nobody’s just one thing. It’s how all the pieces fit together, the final big picture, that matters.”

  Rafe shot Delaney an incredulous, can you believe this look. Then he sat, too, thigh to thigh, one arm around Mollie’s waist. “The fact that you believe that? It’s huge.”

  “You’re not as bad as you think you are, Rafe,” she teased. Because she was trying to be sassy and strong in front of all these people. Trying very hard not to reveal that she was practically shaking with relief that her big, bad boyfriend was touching her again, talking to her again.

  After talking with Norah, she’d been sure that Rafe wouldn’t leave her. Not by his own choice. Not unless it was to save her life. But she was worried that the choice wasn’t entirely his. The marshal insisting on witnessing this conversation didn’t calm those fears one bit.

  “Maybe not,” he said with a laugh. “Not anymore, anyway. The big picture is that I love you, Mollie. I do trust you.”

  “Stop.” She put her hand over his mouth. Now that they were in the same room again, Mollie couldn’t wait another second to give Rafe the apology she’d figured out this morning that she owed him. “I know that. I should never have accused you of not trusting me. Once I calmed down and processed everything, looked past my own stupid issues, it hit me. Putting your new identities at risk, putting your lives at risk by telling me the truth was the biggest proof in the world that you trust me. I shouldn’t have thrown it back in your face that way. I’m so sorry, Rafe.”

  “Thank you.” He reached over and thumbed away a tear she hadn’t realized was trickling down her cheek. “I didn’t give you the choice. I did it all backward. I wish I’d told you the truth from the start, so you could decide if you wanted to even have this dangerous knowledge. So I’m fixing that. Right now. Proving I trust you more, giving you the choice now by including you in the planning for my new life.”

  Her heart leapt. If he did
n’t disappear in the middle of the night, as she’d feared constantly since the forest, they’d have a chance to keep going. To be together. Mollie hadn’t exactly trusted Rafe from the very start. Or rather, she hadn’t trusted herself, trusted in the possibility of a serious relationship with him.

  “Does that mean you’re staying? In Bandon?” She didn’t look at Rafe when she asked. Mollie stared straight at the marshal in charge of him. Because this petite blonde woman was the one with the power to take him away. No matter what anyone else wanted.

  “If it’s okay with you.”

  She’d put to rest her fear of being abandoned. It was like having a five-hundred-pound emotional tumor excised. Mollie had carried it around her whole life without seeing the truth in front of her face—that nobody really abandoned her. That people made choices about what was right for them. It had nothing to do with Mollie. And now Rafe was giving her the power to make a similar choice. To choose who she wanted in her life.

  That was easy.

  “It’s more than okay.”

  “You have to be sure. If you need time to decide, we’ll give you, well, as much as Delaney can swing. If you think it’s too dangerous for your town, or you just don’t want a couple of ex-mobsters hanging around, we’ll leave. The ball’s in your court, Mollie.”

  Giving her that choice was the best present she’d ever gotten. Beaming, she said, “Then you’re staying. That’s the plan.”

  Delaney looked ready to kill Rafe. Her eyes snapped blue fire, and her scowl carved brackets around her mouth. “It’s unorthodox. It breaks one of the primary protection rules.”

  “Tit for tat, Marshal. Seeing as how one of the primary protection rules was broken when an FBI agent used his knowledge to blackmail us.”

  “Agreed. That’s the only reason this discussion was on the table. Are we clear on that?” She rapped on the bathroom door frame with her knuckles. “Flynn, Kellan, that goes for you, too.”

  “You mean are we clear that we’re not supposed to tell anyone that we’re ex-mobsters waiting to testify?” Flynn reached up and curled his fingers around the top of the door. “Yeah. That was always clear to me and Kellan. We’re not the ones who can’t keep our lips zipped.”