A predatorial growl registered a split second before Beckett shoved to his feet. He disarmed the gunman to his right and pulled the trigger. Once. Twice. Both men collapsed to the floor, and her marshal twisted around, putting Julia in his sights.
The nearest gunman cut the rope around Raleigh’s wrists and wrenched her into his chest by her hair. In a matter of seconds, he pressed a long, cold blade against her throat. Hints of body odor rolled off his leather jacket, and Raleigh swallowed to counter the fear clawing through her. Two more guns for hire took position beside the door Beckett had come through, weapons trained on him. One wrong move, and she’d lose everything. “Beckett, no.”
His gaze flickered to hers—cold, detached—and she lost feeling beneath her rib cage. She’d been wrong before. He’d tracked her back to his childhood ranch not because he’d realized he’d made a mistake accusing her of conspiracy or to prove he hadn’t meant what he’d said. But because he was a US marshal assigned to recover his fugitive. Just as he’d always claimed.
“I’ve worked too hard for this. I deserve that money after what your father put me through,” Julia said. “Shoot me, and you won’t only lose him, Beckett. You’ll lose your entire family.”
“No, he won’t.” Fire simmered beneath the surface of Raleigh’s skin. She closed her grip around the broken piece of tile she’d grabbed as the hit man with the knife had hauled her off the floor. Sharp stone cut into her palm, but the pain kept her grounded, focused, and Raleigh shot her elbow back into the gunman’s gut. Following through with a knee to his face when he doubled over, she didn’t bother watching him hit the floor as she turned on Julia. “Because we’re not going any—”
Pain burned through her as Julia’s gun discharged, and Raleigh froze. One second. Two. She followed the spread of blood across her shirt, so much closer to her navel than the piece of shrapnel from the car explosion. She stumbled back and touched the entry wound. Tears burned in her eyes before she tripped over one of Hank’s feet and fell backward. She hit the floor, out of breath.
“No!” Beckett’s yell reverberated through her, followed by three more gunshots.
She couldn’t see him, couldn’t move. She’d been shot. Then silence. Strained breathing echoed around her after a few seconds, but she didn’t have the strength to get up. “Beckett.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The rhythmic pulse of the machines recording her body’s stats grated against the headache at the base of his skull. Three days. Raleigh should’ve come around from the anesthesia by now, but there wasn’t any sign she intended to open her eyes and her doctors couldn’t tell him anything more than he’d have to be patient. Things like this happened after experiencing the kind of trauma she’d been through.
Beckett leaned forward in the chair he’d set up beside her hospital bed. The surgeons had pulled the slug from her without any complications. He just needed her to wake up, and when she did, he’d be here. He wasn’t going anywhere. Ever again.
He’d been such an idiot—for so many reasons, but more recently about the money she’d stolen from Julia Dailey, about conspiring with his father to steal from her own foundation. Raleigh hadn’t taken those funds for her personal gain, as he’d feared. She could have. She could have run and never looked back, taken his daughter with her, and hell, he wouldn’t have blamed her after what he’d done. But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d proved once again to be a better person than he’d ever be, and she’d put them right back where they belonged.
In the foundation’s accounts.
With Julia Dailey in federal custody, the FBI had had no other choice than to drop the accusations against Raleigh and close their investigation into the foundation. Beckett pressed his elbows against his knees and swiped his hand down his face. She was free, but at this rate, there was a chance he’d lose his fugitive all over again. The worst part was he’d brought it on himself.
Time had slowed when Julia had pulled that trigger. He’d watched the bullet leave the gun and race toward Raleigh. Only he hadn’t been fast enough to stop it. With his entire future at risk, Beckett had turned his weapon on the two operatives behind him and left Julia Dailey to stand on her own. He’d secured his father’s wife to the same pipe she’d tied Raleigh to as he’d waited for backup and the medical chopper, but every minute had felt like an hour.
A knock registered softly from behind, and Beckett swiped his hand down his face before standing to face the visitor. She hadn’t had many over the past few days. Apart from him, the list mostly consisted of nurses, doctors and his team to update him on the investigation, but the last person he’d expected to set foot near the mother of his child darkened Raleigh’s doorway.
Hank Foster.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Beckett stepped into the bastard responsible for this entire mess. If it hadn’t been for his SOB father, for all the people he’d hurt, Raleigh wouldn’t have been shot in the first place. She wouldn’t have been targeted by Emily Cline or framed for stealing from the foundation. She wouldn’t have been arrested and forced to go on the run to avoid their daughter growing up without her parents.
“I was discharged a couple hours ago, and one of the other marshals you work with told me you haven’t left this room since Raleigh got out of surgery after he was done questioning me.” Hank offered him a white foam box, eyes downcast. The man Beckett had spent twenty years of this life hating with every fiber of his being had the guts to look ashamed, apologetic. “I thought we could both use some real food, and I remembered you liked waffles, so I ordered some from that old diner we used to visit when you were a kid.”
“Don’t you dare say her name, Hank.” The frustration, the anger, the desperation he’d been holding back since Beckett had stepped off the Life Flight chopper three days ago broke through the invisible dam he’d built in preparation for this moment. “You’re the reason she’s here. You’re the reason your wife framed Raleigh and hired a hit woman to kill the best thing that’s ever happened to me. No matter how far I’ve distanced myself from you, from what you’ve done, I’m the one who’s still paying the price for your mistakes. First with Mom, now Raleigh. You put her in danger. You put my baby in danger, and I’m not going to let you anywhere near either of them. Ever. Do you understand? I’m done with the past controlling my life, dictating every decision I make, and I’m done with you.”
Hank retracted the box into his chest, the outline of bandages clear between the unbuttoned section of his shirt. “I’m sorry, Beckett. For everything. Your mother was killed because of me. Because of my selfishness. I was never arrested for what I did, but I’ve spent the past twenty years working to make that right, to be the father you deserve instead of the one you got. I don’t know if it’s possible given what’s happened over the past few days, but I’ll spend another twenty years trying, if that’s what it takes. I’ll keep the foundation going. I’ll help as many people as I can, and if you decide to change your mind about where we go from here, I’ll be waiting.” Hank nodded, and in that moment, he suddenly looked older than a few minutes ago. Setting the box of waffles on a nearby table, he adjusted the suit jacket draped over his arm. “I’m proud of you, son. You’re going to be a great father to that little girl, the kind she deserves.”
“No thanks to you.” Whether he’d said that more for himself or to Hank, he didn’t know. He didn’t care. Hank had apologized for what’d happened to his mother, accepted responsibility for Julia’s actions, but that wouldn’t erase two decades’ worth of hatred and anger. Their relationship—if they’d ever have one—would take more than a single conversation to heal, but at least he’d made his opinion on the matter clear.
“You’ve got one hell of a fighter on your hands, son, but if you want to be around much longer, eat the damn waffles. You look like you’re going to fall over,” Hank said.
The fight drained from Beckett as he turned back toward the bed and s
lid his hand in Raleigh’s, but he could still feel Hank at the door. Fine. Beckett would let him see the damage he’d caused, how he’d almost destroyed the only family Beckett had left. He smoothed his thumb over her scabbed knuckles, and Raleigh’s hand jerked in his. The hollowness under his rib cage intensified as his gaze shot to her face. “Raleigh?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them slowly. Hypnotic green eyes lifted to his, and relief flooded through him. Her chest collapsed on a strong exhalation as she shook her head. She licked dry lips, and he reached for the plastic mug provided by the hospital at the side of her bed. He set the straw against her mouth for her to take a drink, but her voice still graveled from the grogginess of being out cold for three days. “Beckett.”
“I’m here. It’s okay.” Beckett kept her hand in his as he took his seat in the chair beside the bed. “You were shot. Three days ago at the ranch. You were Life-Flighted here to the hospital in Portland where the surgeons were able to remove the bullet, but it took you a while to shake off the anesthesia.”
“The baby.” Panic infused her expression as she slid her free hand over her stomach above the sheets. Tears welled in her lower lash line, and she strengthened her grip on his hand. Raleigh fought to sit up straight, but the pain in her expression said her wound wouldn’t let her get far. “Please tell me she’s okay. Tell me the bullet didn’t hurt—”
“She’s fine.” He brought her hand against his mouth, planting a kiss on the thin skin below her knuckles as he helped her settle back against the pillow. “Everything is fine. Julia Dailey was arrested, the charges against you were dropped, all of the missing donation funds have been returned to the foundation, and our daughter is exactly where she’s supposed to be.”
“Okay.” She nodded, the distant haze in her eyes revealing she was still trying to get her bearings. After everything she’d been through, he wouldn’t be surprised if it’d take her more than a few minutes to adjust. Hell, might even take months, and he intended to help her through it every step of the way. “I remember the gunshot, the blood on my shirt and that I couldn’t see you after I fell. I thought I’d lost you both.”
“You didn’t lose anything. I’m here, she’s here, and we’re not going anywhere. It’s over.” Beckett worked small circles into the space between her index finger and thumb. His chest tightened at the fear still swirling in her gaze, and he repositioned her hand over his heart. He focused on the light blue veins running along the length of her arm. “Everything that happened was because of me. Julia wouldn’t have gotten her hands on you in the first place if I hadn’t let my own anger get in the way of seeing the truth, but when I saw who Calvin Dailey really was, that my father was part of this, I lost it, Raleigh.”
Heat seared along his nerve endings at the memory, at the pain he’d put her through after he’d given his word to always be there for her. This woman had reached straight into his chest and claimed his heart, and he’d had no idea what he was supposed to do with that. Until now. “I couldn’t see straight. I was fitting evidence into the puzzle that had nothing to do with the case, and I was scared. I’ve been disconnected for so damn long—living in the past—that I’d convinced myself I’d spend the rest of my days walking this earth alone, but then you came along. You kept me grounded even when I thought we wouldn’t make it. You gave me purpose, and I was scared of losing that, of losing you and our baby. So I found a reason to make you the enemy to avoid having to feel that pain ever again. I was stupid for considering you’d been involved with Hank’s next con, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for breaking my word to always be there for you when you deserved so much better. I can’t promise I won’t be an idiot in the future, but I sure as hell won’t ever doubt you again. If you’ll just give me the chance to prove it.”
She tugged her hand from his and set it over her slight baby bump. The muscles in her throat worked to swallow. She kept her expression neutral as she raised her gaze to his. The answer was so clear in those beautiful green eyes, the pain he’d caused evident, and his gut soured. “I don’t know if that’s possible anymore. I haven’t felt important to anyone my whole life, Beckett. Everyone I’ve let get close has walked away once I didn’t serve a purpose for them anymore, but when we were in that cabin, you made me feel like I could’ve been important. That you saw me just for me and not something to be used.” She tilted her head to one side, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I was falling in love with you, dreaming about waking up next to you every morning on that ranch the marshals seized, taking family trips into town, teaching our daughter how to ride her first horse. It felt so real. I wanted it to be real.” Her voice hollowed. “But I realized it’d been a fantasy. All of it. Because until you recognize you have people who want to be there for you—that you’re the one who’s been pushing them away—there isn’t going to be room in your life for me or for our daughter.”
His throat threatened to swell shut. “What are…what are you saying?”
“I’m saying we’re always going to be connected because of this baby. There’s no denying that,” she said, “but I’m going to let the lawyers handle everything from here.”
* * *
SHE SHOULDN’T BE HERE.
Raleigh stepped out of the old four-door sedan she’d purchased a few days after being released from the hospital. Her car, her apartment, her belongings, it’d all been taken by the state once she’d been arrested, but that was behind her now. It was time to start over, fresh, but she hadn’t planned on ever coming back here.
Her past had been burned clean, and she was going to take advantage. If it hadn’t been at Beckett’s insistence they meet here to review the paternity and custody papers before their lawyers submitted them to the courts, she never would’ve driven out here. She’d made it clear in the hospital she’d hand off any legal matters concerning their daughter to her lawyer, negating any reason for them to have to see each other until the baby was born, but he’d sounded desperate over the phone. Broken.
She couldn’t deny she was hurting just as badly at what’d happened between them.
She breathed in the slight hint of pines and hay for a few moments. Yellowing grass swayed in the breeze as she followed the dirt road leading to the main farmhouse. The seized property looked the same as it had a few weeks ago—when Emily Cline had caught up with them—but where fear had controlled her then, beauty met her now. She burrowed into her coat as the large barn at the edge of the property demanded her attention before she stepped onto the house’s pale front porch. She lifted her hand to knock before the door swung inward.
And there he was.
A tingling sensation bubbled inside her as his gaze studied her from head to toe. His beard seemed thicker, the lines around his eyes and mouth a little deeper as though he hadn’t slept in a while, and her heart hiccuped in her chest. It’d been only two weeks since she’d woken to find him next to her hospital bed, but so much had changed since then. Those brilliant blue eyes brightened, and she fought the rush of need she’d been working to bury as it seeped through the cracks in her shattered armor. He was handsome as ever with the white long-sleeved shirt, jeans, boots and no visible signs of his blood or anyone else’s staining his clothes, and it took her a few breaths to remember why she was here. “I didn’t think you’d come out here.”
“You wanted me to double-check the paperwork before we go to court.” Raleigh folded her arms across her chest. The siding beside the door smelled of fresh paint the longer she stood there, but there was no reason the US Marshals would be fixing the place up unless they were getting it ready for public auction. A strange heaviness settled in her gut at the thought. For the past few weeks she’d been staying in a hotel room while the FBI concluded their investigation, but soon she’d have to find a more permanent place. She and Beckett had almost been killed right near here, but that didn’t detract from the sense of peace—of home—she’d experienced before the gunwoman
had fired that first bullet. “If we’re going to make this coparenting thing work, we’re each going to have to make an effort. This is mine.”
“I appreciate it.” He shifted back on his heels, motioning her through the door. “Come in.”
She stepped over the threshold, that immediate feeling of calm washing over her. Warmth flooded over the exposed skin of her neck and hands from the fireplace as she took in the wall of windows and pale gray-and-white decor. Everything looked the same, felt the same. Only they weren’t. Not with Beckett.
He’d taken responsibility for his mistake in accusing her of conspiracy, in arresting her mere hours after promising to always be there. His admission of letting the anger he’d held on to all these years get in the way of his judgment still echoed in her head when she lay alone at night. He’d asked for another chance, and she’d been so tempted to give it, to forget he’d turned his back on her all over again. But she couldn’t.
Because what would stop him from turning his back on her the next time? What would stop him from leaving her as an only parent when all that anger clouded his judgment again?
In that moment, Raleigh had imagined having to explain to their baby girl why her father had disappeared. She’d seen the disappointment in her daughter’s eyes so clearly, experienced that feeling of being unwanted by the man she’d look up to, heard their child convincing herself she wasn’t worth loving. That single image had broken what was left of Raleigh’s heart in a matter of seconds, but she had the power to make sure it never became reality. By coparenting with Beckett as agreed, but nothing more. No commitment. No emotions. Nothing that he could use to hurt her or their daughter down the line.
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