Night Moves (G-Man Series)

by ANDREA SMITH

  I saw a look of relief flood over Lindsey's face. It was short-lived however.

  "Lindsey," her father bellowed. "Come here. Now!"

  She scrambled to her feet, approaching her father tentatively, as if she didn't know whether she was walking into a death trap or into her father's arms for comfort. He bent down, wrapping his arms around her. And for a second, I actually thought he was trying to comfort her before he had the good sense to blow his own brains out. He motioned for Louise to give him the gun, and to follow him.

  He pulled Lindsey in front of him like a fucking human shield, his own mother falling behind him to serve the same purpose as they left me there on that, cold, dirty cement floor to kick at the rats who seemed to get braver by the second. He was going to try and escape. What a stupid fuck!

  By now it was difficult to distinguish the flashes of lightening from the headlights and spotlights directed on the building. I heard the van start up, most likely Lindsey was forced to drive it out of there while Jack and Louise cowered in the back like the cowards they were. I could see the light from the street as the door opened and the van pulled out and then nothing. It was relatively quiet for several seconds until I heard the loud sounds of 'Pop!Pop!Pop'!

  Oh my God. . . Lindsey!

  I was cold, tired, dehydrated, and hungry; yet tears still formed in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I could even hear my own muffled sobs from beneath the scarf that was tied tightly over my mouth and seemed to get tighter by the second. I didn't need to hold my sobs back. There was no one here to see me break this time. The rats didn't care. So I let loose but I couldn't really and totally let loose because the fucking scarf was muffling everything that I wanted to let out: the anger, the rage, the total fucked-upness of how a father could do what Jack Dennison had done. It was unfathomable to me.

  Maybe my pregnancy hormones were making me feel things more deeply and more personally then I ever had before. Maybe it was the fact that when I'd first felt that fluttering within my gut I had insta-loved this little tad-pole inside of me that I'd named "Junior." At five months pregnant, I already loved him or her. My God! Jack Dennison had 19 years with Lindsey before he split. What the fuck?

  My musings were interrupted as I heard footsteps coming down the metal stairwell that led to the floor above this one.

  Oh God - what now?

  I squeezed my eyes shut as if that would make the sound go away. I willed my ears to not hear what was approaching. Then I opened my eyes. What could be any worse than what I'd been through? A homicidal vagrant would beat laying here and getting chewed on by rats. Darcy Nicole Sheridan was made of tougher stuff than this.

  As my eyes once again adjusted to the darkness settling in, with only the occasional flash of lightening to illuminate my surroundings, I heard the sound of the footsteps on the concrete getting closer and closer.

  And then I saw them. Bruno Magli Micolino braided-strap loafers in black. And as they got closer I knew that everything was going to be alright. Who else would be wearing black Italian leather in a shit-hole like this?

  Easton. . .

  I felt his hands on me, untying my binds, talking to me in his very soothing voice, telling me that he loved me and that I was going to be fine and not to worry, and I knew that it was true. I didn't say a word, even when he removed the scarf that had been tied around me. I simply crawled up into his lap as he rested on his haunches just inches from me, and tucked my face into his broad chest, not wanting to look at anything right now. I was just listening for the sound of his steady heartbeat. There it was.

  "I lied," I whispered against him.

  "It doesn't matter," he replied, lifting me up and carrying me towards the door.

  "It matters, Easton. I love you. I never stopped."

  "I know," he replied, his arms tightening around me. "I know, baby."

  I felt the cold chill of the wet, night air hit my face as he carried me outside. The rain had diminished to a slow drizzle. The flashing lights were everywhere and as I gazed about, I could see that New York's finest were perched all around the building, along with FBI swat team members dressed liked ninjas in black, with knit ski-mask type head coverings on, and an arsenal of semi-automatic weapons aimed to fire. They were on top of buildings as far as I could see down the street, the reflective lettering "F B I" visible on the back of their field jackets.

  I pulled the collar of Easton's trench coat up to my eyes as if to shield them from seeing whatever it was that was about to go down.

  "Easton," I said, my voice cracking. "Where's Lindsey? I heard gun shots a little while ago." Before he could answer, I saw the van they'd left in sitting cock-eyed on the sidewalk a half-block down. The tires had been blown out, the panel door was ajar but no one was around it.

  "She'll be fine, love. They're seeing about getting her back right now safe and sound. Don't worry."

  "Stop!" I cried out, now struggling to get released from his arms."I need to wait for Lindsey. I have to know that she's safe. Where is she?" The shock I'd been in was wearing off enough allowing the panic to now seep in.

  He lowered me to my feet in front of him, keeping his arms around me as he nodded to the park across the street that seemed to be surrounded on the ground and on rooftops with agents that looked more like terrorist snipers than law enforcement. I could see that they were keeping in contact by wireless radio.

  "Listen, sweetheart," he said cautiously. "Her father has her in the park with him. He's trying to use her to protect himself - the bloody bastard," he snapped. "I don't want you to worry, love. She won't be harmed, I promise you. They know what they're doing out there."

  "And her grandmother?" I asked.

  His furrowed brow told me he hadn't a clue as to who I was talking about. Hopefully, the old bitch had caught a stray bullet.

  I could tell something across the street had just heated up. I could feel the tension rise. Easton felt it too as he pulled me into an alcove doorway on the side of the building facing the park across the street, shielding me with his own body. From the rooftop of the building directly across from us, I could see the red glare of the infrared night scope atop a weapon as it searched for a target. It then stopped and held position. A second later I heard a shot ring out. Only one. But I knew it had met its mark when seconds later I heard the blood-curdling scream of my best friend coming from a cluster of trees fifty yards away in the darkness of the park. Her plaintive wail seemed to go on and on.

  I started to push away from Easton so that I could go to her, but he immediately pulled me back, encasing me tightly within his arms. "She's okay, love. They got him, not her. She's fine."

  "She's not fine, Easton," I persisted. "Don't you understand? That was her father and she loved him no matter what! She loved him. I need to go to her!" I was on the verge of hysterics.

  "No," he said, firmly, drawing me back closer, lowering his lips to my ear. "That's Taz's job, baby. Not yours," he continued, nodding his head toward the park.

  Oh Friggin’ Hell… God, please don't let Taz be the one that took the son-of-a-bitch down!

  I looked across the street to the building where the sharp-shooter had been positioned and watched as he hoisted himself down to ground level dropping to the pavement from the fire escape. There were two agents in FBI jackets waiting for him. Another had taken off in a fast sprint in the direction of Lindsey with several NYC police officers on his flank.

  The sniper-agent turned his weapon over to one of the others, and then pulled his ski mask cap off, revealing his seriously handsome face.

  Thank God! It's Slate . . .

  I looked back across to the park, seeing the white reflective letters of "F B I" on the back of the jacket of the agent that had taken off like a rocket once the single bullet had met its mark. That had been Taz, thank God! Lindsey's Taz - and he'd be grabbing up his baby girl any sec, letting her know that she was safe and loved, and that he was taking her home.

  I looked up at Easton who still had
his arms wrapped around me, using his body as a shield of protection for me, even though the threat of danger had been eliminated. "Can we go home, Easton?"

  "Yes, love. We're going home. That's why I'm here, baby - to take you home."

  I awoke the following morning still ensconced in the warm cocoon Easton had made for me with his body. He'd taken me to his loft and carefully bathed me from head to toe, washing my hair of the filth that had accumulated during the hours spent as the late Jack Dennison's hostage. He'd given me one of his long-sleeved shirts to wear, and a clean pair of his boxers.

  We hadn't talked a lot last night. Easton had insisted I get my rest and had molded his body against mine perfectly where we'd fallen asleep together and remained that way until now. I snuggled into him with my backside, eager for him to be awake with me.

  "Morning, love," I heard him whisper against the back of my neck. "Sleep well?"

  "Umm," I said with a sigh nodding, "Better than I have in a long, long time. You?"

  I felt his smile. "No complaints . . . though I'm a bit puzzled about something," he said, his hands now gently massaging my small baby bump.

  It's time, Darce.

  "What's that?" I asked, innocently, holding my breath.

  "You seem to have a bit …more . . . here, love," he whispered against my neck. "Of course, I've nothing against full-figured women, but during the night it seemed to me as if . . . well, for lack of a better word, my hand felt some vibration as it rested against your abdomen."

  Oh God . . .

  "Easton," I said, slowly, glad that I wasn't facing him at the moment. "I'm pregnant. It must've happened the night of the storm . . . when we were . . . together at your estate."

  "I see," he replied, his tone giving me no indication as to how he was taking the news.

  I swallowed nervously and continued. "I know how you feel about . . . well babies and all, and the reason I didn't tell you was because I was afraid you'd try to force me to have an abortion . . . and there's just no way--"

  “What?” he growled, anger now very evident in his voice. He sat up, pulling me with him, but I was too scared of what I’d see in his eyes after what I’d just told him.

  So, I busied my focus by watching my hands pluck at the sheet covering my body.

  “Look at me,” he ordered.

  I turned to face him, looking up into his angry eyes from beneath my lashes.

  "What in God's name are you saying?" he demanded.

  "Bianca . . ." I explained, fumbling for words, "I was told that you forced her to have an abortion."

  "Good Lord, woman," he said, eyes flashing, "What kind of a man do you think I am?"

  Is that rhetorical?

  I shrugged my shoulders, still watching him. The anger was slowly dissipating. "I was told that by Lacee," I murmured. "She was told that by Bianca."

  "That bloody figures," he mumbled, taking my hand into his. "I know I've been an arse and that you've seen first-hand some of that with Devon, and in the way that I treated you. But you have to know now that I'd never react that way to news like this. I wouldn't have with Bianca, and certainly not with you. None of that's true, love. Do you believe me?"

  His eyes were searching mine for an answer and I realized it was important to Easton that I knew the kind of man he was and that I believed him over idle gossip and vicious lies.

  "Then tell me, Easton. If you loved me, why did you leave me? Convince me that it'll never happen again."

  For the first time ever, I saw a look of pain cross over his face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of resolve. He looked over at me, his eyes brilliant with some self-revelation, some understanding of why he'd done what he'd done.

  "It's difficult to explain, love, but I promise you that I will. Because you deserve to know, not only what I've just recently figured out, but where I want our future to go. The demons are gone, Darcy, I promise you that. Forgive me for ever making you the recipient of my anger and hostility. I'd no right to do that and I will explain some things to you about my past, but please understand I'm not using those as excuses for my behaviour, alright?"

  I nodded, giving him a hesitant, but very relieved smile. "I understand," I said, "I mean I don't know the details of the stuff Lacee told me about your mother and Bianca, but Colin did share with me the fact that you didn't terminate Devon, and instead you offered her a flex schedule. He didn't believe the vicious lies Bianca spread either. He told me he believed you loved me," I finished a bit sheepishly. I wanted to trust in his sincerity.

  He looked at me, his eyes full of passion. "I adore you, Darcy. And I will show you that for as long as you'll permit it. But for the moment, I'd like to know when our baby's due." He was looking at me with tenderness and his eyes were full of love.

  "Mid-January," I replied softly. "And I hope you know I didn't do this on purpose. You see, my Depo shot had expired and --"

  "Quiet, love," he gently admonished, pulling me onto his lap, wrapping both arms around me so that his hands were massaging my belly. "I don't care how it happened. I'm just pleased that it did. By the way, I'd prefer a boy first if you don't mind. Daughters can follow later."

  "I'll try to accommodate you on that, Mr. Matthews," I said with a stern tone, but my lips were already curling into a laugh-like grin. I leaned back against him as we enjoyed our "tummy time" together. "However,” I began to inform him, trying and failing miserably to hold onto that stern tone, "it is the male that determines the gender just so you know. I mean, I'd hate for you to punish me if you get a daughter first out of the gate."

  I heard his rich laughter against my hair as he slowly and methodically relieved me of my clothing, kissing, caressing and loving every part of me with slow and deliberate measure. My body responded to his just as it always had, taking his fullness inside of me and rising up to meet him thrust for thrust as his lips devoured me.

  "I love you, Darcy," he whispered against my ear, his fingers teasing the soft peaks of my breasts. "And I'm going to love this baby and all the rest of the children we'll have together."

  My heart fluttered at his words because they'd come from his heart, the one he swore he didn't have.

  "I love you, Easton," I replied, my hands, capturing his face, pulling him down closer so that our eyes locked. "Thank you for saving me. For everything," I whispered.

  Later as we were curled up on his sofa together, his cell rang. It was Taz. I'd been curious about how they'd hooked up in light of what Lindsey had shared with me earlier. They talked for a few minutes. At first, it sounded as if Taz might've been bitching him out over something, but Easton seemed to be taking it in stride.

  For real?

  I watched as he held his phone away from his ear, rolling his eyes and giving me a smirk. Finally when Taz had said what he'd called to say, Easton spoke up. "Let me remind you, bro, that if not for my patented track-ware, you and the rest of the bureau wouldn't have had a clue as to the location of your wife, the rat bastard fugitive, along with the perps that were assisting him that you've been trying to nail for a month now. So, if someone gives you shit about me having my helicopter land rooftop on the building yesterday without the knowledge or the authorization of the FBI, you might want to make a case for me. Besides," he continued, giving me his sexy wink, "It all turned out for the best. You got your collar . . . and I got mine."

  I could tell that Taz was thanking him and that the conversation had been amiable all along. Easton inquired about Lindsey and right before they ended the call Easton made his plane available for our return to D.C.

  "So," I said, sticking my big toe up to his face and waggling it. "You two make up?"

  He gave me his signature smile, grabbing my foot to tickle it.

  "Stop, Easton," I laughed, finally getting it away from him. "Answer my question."

  "Taz and I are fine," he replied. "We're brothers who occasionally disagree, that's all. It's what families do I guess. He thanked me for finding you two right after he attempted to
chew my ass about coming to get you once I'd found you."

  "Yeah, about that," I replied, "wanna clue me in how it came to be it was you that found us?"

  "Why Miss Sheridan," he replied, seriousl, "Did you not pay attention to your own presentation on the cutting edge technology of Night Moves Track-Ware®?"

  Huh?

  "What? Where?"

  He was amused by my inability to figure it out.

  "I don't just give anyone clit jewelry, you know?" He teased. "Only very special people that I want to keep track of . . ."

  No he didn’t . . .

  "Seriously?" I asked, my eyes widening. "You had chips put in my clit jewelry?"

  "And your belly-button stud as well."

  I couldn’t help it, I started laughing. He watched me with a bemused look on his face.

  "You're definitely a piece of work, Easy-E. But hey? For once your odd proclivity for ultimate control along with borderline stalking worked out for everyone concerned. Well, except for Jack Dennison, I guess. How's Lindsey?"

  "Taz said she's doing better, but it'll take time for her to get over the shock of what her father did and who he was. I guess I know a little bit about that. She'll work it out. Taz will be right there with her. As it turns out, the old lady - Louise is it?"

  I nodded.

  "She apparently sang like a bird. She and her son were heavily tied into some weapons smuggling in return for getting across the border with brand new identities."

  Holy shit!

  "Now," he said, as he pulled my feet into his lap and started massaging them, "let's talk about us."

  "Okay," I replied. "Shoot."

  "Do your parents know about the baby?"

  Uh oh.

  "Well, yeah," I replied, "But . . . they sort've think it's Darin's," I said, wrinkling my nose up, knowing he wasn't going to be happy hearing that. I was surprised when he calmly continued administering his kick-ass foot massage.

  "You and I will remedy that as soon as we get back, understood?"

  "Yes, sir," I replied, giggling. "But they're going to freak - just so you know."