by Misty Dietz
Her lips tipped up for a moment, something wavering in her eyes. “We’re both warriors who live best on the fringes. I wanted to protect you from all who would hurt you, Zack.”
“That’s too much responsibility for one person.” He edged backward toward the wheel’s controls. He had to stop it when Ann’s car was at the bottom.
“You’re worth it.”
“Yet you have an UZI on me?”
“If I can’t have you, she can’t either!” She gestured to Ann, whose car now dangled ten feet above them, inching closer.
“You think I’m in love with Ann?”
“I think you feel guilty. You’re confused because John was so nice. You think you need to be her man because of that.”
“I promise you we’ll talk about this when she’s down. Okay? That bomb’s gonna go off and kill us all.”
The light snuffed from her eyes. “Always goes back to her, doesn’t it. Fine then. See you on the other side.” She raised the gun to look through the scope, and his blood ran cold.
Time slowed. A pop exploded in his eardrums. Someone screamed. A flash of blue clothing blurred as he was tackled sideways.
More pops.
Gunfire.
The inertia of his fall barreled him to the ground, where his head bounced off the concrete in an eruption of pain. His eyes opened to register Morgan crumpling to the concrete with horrible, wet gurgling sounds. Nausea roiled through his gut, the floor like ice against his stomach.
Something warm on his back. Metallic-tasting in his mouth. He gagged and spit blood.
Sloane, where are you?
C-cold. His teeth clacked together. SWAT boots swam double, then triple, in his vision, swarming Morgan’s inert form on the floor. More men in camouflage rushing the scene, surrounding the Ferris wheel bucket that held Ann.
Someone yelled, “Clear the area!”
A liquid warmth seeped onto his back. Someone grabbed his boots, began dragging him. His head swam. He blinked again and a ghastly apparition of Ross rose up, blood and gore sliding down his face.
Zack struggled against the hands around his boots, twisting and bucking to get free until he couldn’t breathe anymore through the fire in his chest and the jackhammer splintering his skull.
“Easy, brother. Take it easy.” Then quieter, “I got his arms.”
The panther had said it. Panther? Goddamn, his head hurt. He struggled again until his shirt rode up, leaving his stomach bare to suffer the concrete friction. He wanted to howl. Needed to clear his head. Get his muscles to move.
Someone shifted near his line of vision.
“Don’t move her yet. We don’t know where she was hit.”
I’m not shot. He tried to tell them. Tell the panther. But he couldn’t get the words to come out right. Hit my head. Must’ve.
The voice had said her.
What?
The blue flash before the tackle.
The heap beside him with the golden head wasn’t moving. Golden head.
“Sloane!” A spurt of adrenaline fired his blood, and his senses came back online. He kicked once more at the hands that held his ankles and twisted an arm to grab her, lifting her as he rolled over to accept her weight on the front of his body. Her mouth opened slightly, and she blinked down at him, but didn’t recognize him. Hot fear lit up his circuits. He hurried to sit up with her in his lap.
“Hold still! She’s been shot, you could make it worse. We need to move you as a unit because that shit’s gonna blow.”
“Archie! Look at her. Look what she did!” He was babbling. He knew it, but the panic over Sloane was gonna kill him. How bad was she hurt? Jesus, if she died, he’d go mental.
Two more SWAT medics ran over to grab him under the arms, and together they got him and Sloane behind a thick concrete wall on the mall’s first floor thoroughfare. Placing him on the carpet, they set to work on her injury. Rolling out from under her, he pushed to his feet, staggering slightly until Archie slipped an arm around his waist to support him.
Zack watched the medics apply pressure to the bullet entrance wound with multiple layers of gauze. Can you die from a shot in the arm? He pushed Archie away, moving toward Sloane. “You need to get her to the hospital. Please.”
The SWAT medics closed ranks around her, their broad shoulders and helmets shutting him out. Another came up to him and shined a light in his eyes. “Local paramedics are standing by outside.” He motioned to an officer just entering the scene and turned to Archie. “The sergeant will have some questions for you so you need to go along, too. No funny shit.” He glanced at Officer Blake and jerked his head at Archie. “Pat ’em down and get ’em outside.” Zack followed his gaze to Sloane. “She’s gotta go now, fellas. Hustle!”
He wanted to go with Sloane. Needed to reassure himself that she’d be okay. But how could he leave John’s daughter here to die?
I can’t.
If Ann died here, how could he look himself in the mirror knowing the man who’d done this to her had been under their roof for years?
He had promised to protect her.
“Ninety seconds! Fuller, clear out!” the commander snarled at one of the bomb techs.
The medics shifted into high gear, raising Sloane in the stretcher, running toward the east mall entrance. As Zack broke away, he heard the medic yelling at him and someone giving chase, but he kept going.
As he rounded the corner near the park entrance, his gaze went to the focused, bearded tech.
“Cut the damn straps!”
One of the other techs passed a tool to Fuller. “Can’t. They’re booby trapped all over her.”
“Ten more seconds is all you’ve got! Then I’m coming in to drag you out!”
“Yes, sir!” Fuller barked at his commander. Then, “Fuck, she’s waking up!”
Everyone froze.
Sweet Jesus.
Ann’s sudden scream echoed through the amusement park down into Zack’s soul where he thought it would live forever.
He sprinted past one SWAT officer only to be cut short by two others. He pushed back, a wild panic beating in his chest, a fountain of magma melting him from the inside out.
Archie rushed him from behind to put him in a standing full nelson. He bent in half to try to throw Archie over his head, but his friend planted his feet and counter-shifted back.
Helpless rage pulsed through Zack. “Sonofa���! She’s terrified! Sedate…her!”
Lt. Carver got in his face and glared, the veins in his forehead standing out. “No time!”
The bomb started beeping loud, continuous chirps. Archie released Zack and sprinted toward cover.
“Fifteen seconds!” Blake or Jones yelled.
Carver swiped at the sweat running down his face. “Fuller, Blake, Jones, clear out right now! Everybody! Move, move, move!”
Everyone cleared out except the techs.
Zack, come to me! Please.
He nearly stumbled to hear her voice, strong and passionate, in his head. Goldie, I trust you. I believe in your gift. You can help us.
His feet tore across the concrete he’d helped pour, laughing and joking with one of his crews as they’d smoothed and buffed the surface.The bomb bleeps shortened, their piercing sound pouring through Zack as he looked at the wires coming out of the box.
The two techs tried to pull him along as they ran for cover. He shoved them away, bolted toward Fuller, and pressed his palms to Ann’s icy cheeks, calling her name until her eyes finally focused, and she blinked at him in stunned silence.
“Hold still, Ann. Don’t. Move.”
He looked at the bomb. Touched it. Which wire, Goldie? Try to feel it!
The bomb bleeps faded into the background. Zack heard only his heartbeat as he looked up to see the perfect concentration on Fuller’s grizzled face. In that quiet space, John came to him. Come hell or high water, hold tight to your beliefs. For every mountain there is a miracle.
Zack’s pulse slowed, his vision tunnel
ed. John had never lied to him before.
The bleeps became one steady, unrelenting pitch. The bomb’s final warning.
Five, four, three…
Sloane!
Fuller’s fingers reached forward.
The green one! her voice cried in his mind.
“Green! The green!” Zack yelled above the bomb’s blare.
Fuller jerked the green wire free.
The abrupt silence in the vacuous space was almost more terrifying than the bomb’s imminent alarm. Fuller sat back on his heels and hung his head, shoulders slumped as though all the air had spontaneously left his body.
A roll of thunder echoed the mottled emotion moving through Zack. Through his belly and up his chest to lodge in his throat, a tight mass of feeling too big for words. He squeezed Ann’s arm and laid a palm on Fuller’s back, who looked up to hoarsely yell the all clear.
Then reality broke through, fast and loud.
SWAT flooded the area around Ann. The bomb unit cleared the device before the medics attended her. Zack backed a few feet away, turning when he felt her.
Ah, Goldie.
He felt her tears bathing him in a communion of minds, hearts, souls.
He couldn’t wait to hold her. To lose himself in the fathomless brown of her eyes, the exquisite touch of her fingertips reminding him how good it felt to feel.
She wasn’t speaking in his head, but it was all right.
Her—safe—was enough for now.
Words were for tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-five
ONE WEEK LATER
Sloane was watching Zack uncork a bottle of cabernet when the dogs bolted from their spots on either side of her on the couch. They ran for the door, barking so relentlessly that he threw a soft, mangled chew toy at them.
He came around the small kitchen island and handed her a wine glass before nudging the dogs aside to turn on the outside light. She smiled at the trio until she saw Zack’s shoulders tense.
Now what? She couldn’t stop the negative thought, even though the past week had been a beautiful, unexpected dream. Her arm was healing nicely since the bullet had only damaged muscle, and she didn’t even care that she’d lost Benjamin’s support for her foundation. She and Zack had a truckload of baggage, but they’d loved each other enough these past seven days to help hasten the healing process.
Maybe they’d even loved enough to last a lifetime.
Don’t think like that.
Zack ordered the dogs to sit before opening the door. She set her glass on the pile of drafting books, then moved toward him, looking out into the night. When she touched his back, his muscles relaxed a fraction.
“Who is—” The words died on her lips, and she ran out into the meager light cast by the light fixture, straight into Ann’s open arms. Deep emotion put a choke hold on her throat to feel Zack’s arms come around the two of them.
Ann brushed at her eyes and laughed shyly when Sloane’s mouth dropped open and her fingers slid through Ann’s newly-shortened, glossy black strands.
“Dear Lord, I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful, but look at you. This style suits you perfectly.” She hugged Ann to her again, crying and laughing at once. “You must have just cut it. Here, come in, come in!”
Zack held the door open for them, then closed it, stationing himself in front of it like a guardian. For goodness’ sake, stop glowering at her. He glanced at Sloane quickly and his shoulders loosened up, but he didn’t move away from the door. He looked back at Ann. “Why didn’t you call? I would have picked you up from the hospital.”
Ann set her purse on the floor, sat down, and exhaled quietly. “I was actually released yesterday, shortly after you guys left.” She shrugged when Zack opened his mouth to speak. “It’s okay. I…I wanted time alone. To think.” The female dog laid her head across Ann’s thighs. Her fingers stroked through the deep pile of her fur. “Anyway, I’ve learned a lot…about myself.” She rubbed a hand against her belly, and Sloane’s throat closed up again, thinking of all Ann had lost. Her father, a lover, a baby.
A silent communication passed between the two women before Ann nodded and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, there was strength there. “Detective Barnaba came to see me at home this morning.”
Zack’s arms dropped to his sides as he bit out, “Haven’t they bothered you enough this week?”
“They tracked down Serena.”
Sloane pressed a hand to her chest. “Where is she?”
“He couldn’t say. She wants to remain hidden.”
Zack cursed and pushed away from the door.
A ghost of a smile played around Ann’s lips, and she shrugged. “It’s okay. Really. She would only be a disappointment after having a parent like Dad anyway.”
“Damn right. Barnaba tell you anything else about the case?” Zack asked.
“I can’t believe how Ross had it all planned out. He was just so…normal. And smart. Barnaba said he had shrines to Serena all over his house. Part of his payoff was stringing this out. He chose a career in tax law based on how he wanted to infiltrate Dad’s life. The excitement of building his plan, evading detection, and putting each new phase into play was what kept him going for more than two decades. We’re lucky his goal wasn’t as well-executed as it was well-planned. He used a lot of people along the way.”
Sloane’s eyes blurred. “Like Tori.” Zack sat down beside her and pulled her into the crook of his shoulder. “He used her to keep tabs on you, and she told him about your involvement with Dallan. Then he used Colette’s anger against Dallan to deliver you to his front door.”
Ann frowned. “How’d you know all that?”
Heat rushed up Sloane’s neck to her cheeks. She looked down at her hands in her lap. Pressed them flat against the tops of her thighs. What could she say? Well, see now, I’m your regular psychic mutant.
You’re perfect.
Her eyes widened, her gaze darting to Zack’s face. He was doing that soft smile thing that made her insides go all shy and amazed and happy.
He squeezed her thigh, then looked back at Ann. “Morgan was a part of this.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ann said. “Ross was hell bent on destroying Dad because of Serena, and then you and me due to his disappointment that I wasn’t his daughter. It wouldn’t have made any difference if you weren’t involved. He tapped into a lot of people’s motivations in order to achieve his goal.”
Zack stood and paced to the window, the darkness a profound backdrop against his body’s strong lines.
Ann took a deep breath. “Look, I know there’s so much upheaval at Samuel’s Construction right now with the building damage and the audits, but… I’m sorry, Zack, I won’t be coming back to the office. I hope you’re not upset, but I’m going to go back to school.”
Zack turned back to face her and smiled. “Good.”
“That’s wonderful, Ann!” But a thread of sadness drifted through Sloane. “Does this mean you won’t be at Skinny Dipping anymore?”
Ann rolled her eyes. “Goodness no! I don’t think you’ll ever get me away from that store.”
“Oh, thank heavens! This calls for a celebration! I’ll get you a glass.”
Ann stopped her before she could leave the room. “Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check on that, okay? I need to get home. Surry’s waiting for supper.” She smiled.
Zack frowned. “Who the hell’s Surry?”
“The tomcat. I named him Surry for survivor. We both are.”
Maybe we all are. Sloane rubbed her arms, feeling chilled.
Ann put her purse over her shoulder, twisting the straps. “I don’t know how to thank you both for…not giving up on me. I’d be dead if not for you.”
“I don’t want you to think about it anymore,” Zack said.
“Too bad.” Ann winked at Sloane and smiled at Zack’s raised eyebrow. “From now on I’m going to be doing a lot of thinking.”
She’s really going to be
okay.
One side of Zack’s mouth lifted. He indicated the door with his head. “I’ll walk you out.”
And that opened the floodgates.
Sloane was still wiping her eyes when Zack re-entered the house alone, the dogs bouncing up and down like they hadn’t seen him in a year. He gave each a fierce pat, then moved toward her, his gaze traveling over her face, down her neck, breasts, belly…lower.
So possessive.
She sniffed and became aware of her skin beneath her clothes. The slide of her tank top as she shifted on the sofa. Her toes curling into the rug at her feet. When his eyes returned to hers, they burned with an emerald fire that sucked the moisture from her mouth. She reached for her wine, toppling the glass. “Darn it! Oh, I’m sorry! Here let me—”
“Leave it.”
His secret smile, masculine bass, and sexy eyes jacked her pulse. Lord, why was she so nervous? “No, really. I should clean this up before it ruins your lovely books.” She tried to stand up from the sofa without touching him, but the way he braced his legs apart made it pretty much impossible. She tried to move away to retrieve a towel, catch her breath, pitch her head under a cold shower—anything—but he grasped her hand and led her through the house, grabbing a heavy blanket on his way out the back door.
She pulled him back inside for a moment. “Keifer! Mya!” The dogs’ toenails scritched across the hardwood as they sprinted from the living room.
Zack squeezed her hand with a warm smile. “I’m glad you enjoy them, but I think we’ll leave them in. Tonight I don’t want anyone licking you but me.”
Oh.
Oh.
The cool night air helped settle her nerves. He walked her near the river’s edge to the fire pit—where he’d obviously planned to be much earlier, by the looks of the mature embers.
Spreading the blanket on the grass, he sat first, then motioned her to sit between his outstretched legs. When she did, he brought her back against his chest, folding his arms and the blanket around her, cocooning them in the quiet symphony of the night.
It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, then she looked up at the thousands of stars that twinkled in their midnight palette. She inhaled slowly, the crisp, clean scent of flowers and river vegetation flowing into her, a steadying influence. But nothing would ever settle her, bring her peace, the way Zack did.