Rules in Blackmail

by Nichole Severn

  Marrok’s gaze flickered over his shoulder as Anthony and Elliot burst through the trees, each armed and ready to neutralize the threat on Sullivan’s orders. “Well, guess what, big brother? Things are about to go south.” Raising the gun to Sullivan’s head, Marrok compressed the detonator. “I’ll see you in hell, Sebastian.”

  “No!” Sullivan lunged, focused solely on the detonator and not the gun aimed between his eyes.

  As Marrok pulled the trigger.

  * * *

  THE GUNSHOTS HAD brought her around. All too familiar.

  “Sullivan.” His name barely whispered from her lips, her body fighting her brain’s commands. Jane struggled against the rope at her wrists and ankles, but couldn’t move. The brightness of the snow blinded her. Had Marrok Warren finally killed her?

  She had to warn Sullivan.

  Her eyelids were heavy, but Jane managed to roll her head to one side. Either hell had frozen over or she was actually strapped to a chair in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. What had Marrok planned for her? Leave her to the wolves? Not very original.

  Catching sight of two dark gray rocks half-buried in the snow beside her, she curled her fingers into her palms. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream from the effects of the chloroform. Couldn’t protect herself. But she’d be damned if she didn’t go down fighting like Sullivan had taught her.

  Get out of the chair. Get to Sullivan. She twisted hard, tipping the chair into the snow. Air crushed from her lungs as she sent flakes above her head. Her fingers brushed against the rough edges of one rock and she stretched her hands as far as they would go to grab it. The ties were too tight, and her body was so tired. Marrok would get what he wanted, and Sullivan... No. She couldn’t think about that. Her fingertips brushed against the rough surface of one rock. There.

  Relief flooded through her as she grabbed the rock and hacked away at the rope. The ties fell from around her wrists, and she maneuvered out from under the chair. Bending to cut through the rope at her ankles, Jane caught a flash of red across her abdomen and, for a moment, she assumed it was blood. But the color was off. Brighter. And the flash disappeared, then reappeared. She squinted at the message glowing from the display, her mouth going dry. Armed. More colors claimed her attention. These ones long and thin. Red, blue, green and white. Wires. Oxygen rushed from her lungs as she hastily cut through the rope at her feet.

  Marrok had strapped her into a bomb vest? Running her and Sullivan off the road, trying to burn them to ashes in Menas’s apartment and sending a mercenary detail after her in the first place hadn’t been enough. He had to blow her up, too? All because she’d done her job.

  Jane clawed at the vest but couldn’t find a zipper or Velcro or anything to get her out of it. A guttural groan reached her ears and she spun toward the sound. Sullivan landed backward in the snow, and the man standing over him... “Marrok.”

  She didn’t have a weapon—unless she counted the new piece of apparel strapped across her chest—but ran toward the fight anyway. The cold had drained energy from her muscles, but she pushed on even as Anthony and Elliot burst through the tree line and surrounded the man behind all of this. Sullivan shoved to his feet, and she nearly collapsed before leveraging her weight onto a nearby tree trunk. Shoving her hair out of her eyes, she breathed a little easier. He was okay. Marrok couldn’t escape now. The army would take custody of him, and this whole thing would be over. She’d have her life back. She could go back to being Jane Reise.

  But in the blink of an eye, Marrok Warren raised the gun to Sullivan’s head. The world stopped spinning. Her hands tightened, her insides churned. No. This wasn’t how this was supposed to end. Not him. Not because of her. Jane stumbled forward, closing the vast distance between them as fast as she could. Every cell in her body fought against the desperation clawing up her throat to push herself harder. She’d only taken three steps. “Sul—”

  A bullet exploded from the chamber of Marrok’s gun as Sullivan reached under his heavy coat. Then two more gunshots echoed throughout the clearing, each stealing more of her hope.

  Sullivan dropped his backup weapon into the snow, reaching out for his brother, but it was too late. Marrok Warren collapsed to the ground, his own weapon falling from his grip. The breath she’d been holding rushed from her lungs. She’d seen too many of those kinds of injuries on tour. There was no saving his brother now.

  Only the tree beside her kept Jane on her feet. Tears welled in her eyes. Her stomach rolled. Not for Marrok but because of the way Sullivan hovered over his brother’s body. Nobody deserved to watch someone they loved die right in front of them. Hadn’t Sullivan been betrayed enough? Jane pushed off from the tree, her arms tingling to wrap around him as he grieved.

  A series of beeps rang from the vest.

  Jane stopped cold. The message stretched across her chest had changed from Armed to a series of numbers. And they were counting down. She shot her head up, her survival instincts paralyzed. No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t happening. She wasn’t an active bomb. An invisible elephant sat on her chest, and she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

  “Jane!” Sullivan’s features cleared through the fresh tears streaming down her face.

  She stumbled back. No. She didn’t want to die, but she wasn’t going to be responsible for taking his life. Not Sullivan. Jane surveyed the trees. She wasn’t an expert with explosives, but she was smart enough to know the closer he got, the more danger he was in. If she could get some distance, he might have a better chance of surviving the blast. Throwing her hands out, she backed toward the tree line. “Stay back! It’s armed!”

  He didn’t listen, running straight at her. Those sea-blue eyes never left her as he closed in fast. “Elliot, get your tools!”

  The private investigator ran for one of the Blackhawk Security SUVs.

  She stumbled back into the tree she’d used for support mere moments ago and fell. They were going to try to disarm the bomb. They were going to put their lives on the line. For her. Jane checked the display. Less than two minutes. She lifted her gaze back to Sullivan. Blackmailing him, revealing his true identity to the police in an attempt to save his life, it’d all been a mistake. He had to know that. She’d never meant for any of this to happen. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  She didn’t know what else to say.

  Sullivan dropped to his knees beside her. Darkness consumed his features, and her insides flipped. He moved in close, his hands sliding along the underside of her jaw. He threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of her skull, and goose bumps rose along her skin at his touch. With him this close, the surrounding air filling with his reassuring scent, she wanted nothing more than to sink into his hold. But they were running out of time. Literally. “Are you okay?”

  Chaos and concern tinted Sullivan’s words. Not a good combination.

  “I’m fine.” And it was the truth. At least in her last two minutes on earth, Jane had what she wanted. Sullivan Bishop. She framed his jawline with one hand. “But you need to get away from me. This thing—”

  “Isn’t going to blow with you in it.” A growl vibrated through Sullivan’s chest. “I promise.”

  “Okay.” Any promise Sullivan made, he kept, but the tightness in her tendons connecting her neck and shoulders refused to believe him. Lacing her fingers between his, Jane nodded. They didn’t have much time left before he had to start running. And she wasn’t about to make any more mistakes with the man she’d fallen in love with. “I’m sorry. For everything. Breaking into your office, blackmailing you, going after Menas on my own. All of it. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry about Marrok.”

  Elliot slid onto his knees on her other side, out of breath but smiling. “Hello, gorgeous. Not dead again, I see. Always a plus.” He pushed at her shoulder, putting her flat on her back. “Hand me the wire cutters,” he said to Sullivan. “I’m
going to need you to hold very still. You are literally a ticking time bomb, and any movement could set it off early.”

  “I’m not sorry.” Sullivan thrust the cutters into his private investigator’s hands. A slow smile spread across Sullivan’s features as he squeezed her hand. “I thought the Full Metal Bitch had broken into my office, but, in reality, it was my future. You’re my future, Jane, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I can’t think when you’re expressing your feelings, boss. It’s unnatural.” Elliot’s voice held a word of caution as he sifted through countless wires and traced them to different points on the vest. “That was beautiful, by the way.”

  Did that mean Sullivan loved her, too? The remnants of cold drained from her body at his words. But Jane still unwound her fingers from his hand and shoved him back. “You need to run.”

  “The last time I left your side, my brother strapped you to this damn thing.” He wrapped his hand in hers again and kissed the sensitive skin along the back. “I learn from my mistakes. And the police already know who I really am, so you have no other leverage to get rid of me. Ever again.”

  “There are too many wires.” Elliot sat back on his heels. “We’ve got less than thirty seconds. Boss—”

  “Then we’re going to cut her out of it.” Sullivan reached for the serrated blade tucked inside his boot. The world blurred as they flipped her onto her front. “I’m not giving up.”

  Blistering cold spread down into her bones as sounds of ripping fabric reached her ears. Adrenaline dumped into her veins and rocketed her heart rate higher as she prepared for the explosion. But she couldn’t move on to the afterlife without telling the man she’d blackmailed how she felt. Jane reached for him. “Sullivan, no matter what happens, I need you to know...I love you.”

  He hesitated for a split second, his gaze softening. Sullivan tugged on the vest, cutting down the back. “I’ve got it!”

  Sullivan hauled her upright. The weight of the vest pulled her to the ground, but she extracted her arms from the sleeve holes. The clock was still counting down. His grip tightened around her arm. He tossed the active vest far into the woods and tugged her after him. “Take cover!”

  The rest of the Blackhawk Security team scattered behind the SUVs or the long line of snowbanks. Sullivan dragged her across the road and then pushed her ahead of him. “Get behind the tree line!”

  A faint hum echoed through the trees.

  Then the explosion erupted. The flames shot out behind them, the blast tossing them into the air. Terror ricocheted through her as Jane hit the ground and rolled. Twice. Three times. Smoke worked deep into her system when she came to a stop. She’d lost sight of Sullivan as darkness closed in around the edges of her vision. She stared up into the trees as mountains of snow fell from the branches above, burying her deeper while blackness closed in.

  “Jane...”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Probation and over two hundred hours of community service. Sullivan might’ve lost half of Blackhawk Security’s clients thanks to Jane having him arrested for murder, but he also had the rest of his life to hold it over her head.

  And he intended to do just that.

  The hospital’s white walls blurred together at the edges of his vision as he stalked toward Jane’s room, the only room with an ex-Ranger stationed outside the door. It’d been a precaution in case his psychopathic brother had hired any other hit men who hadn’t heard the news: Jane Reise was off-limits. And his.

  “Hey, man.” Nodding at Anthony in acknowledgment, Sullivan wrapped his hand around the doorknob. And froze. His nervous system flipped, a ball of tension gripping his stomach. The stitches in his arm and thigh where Marrok had shot him stretched, but it wasn’t the pain keeping him in place. The birth certificate, Social Security card, driver’s license and passport with Jane’s picture she’d left in the Blackhawk Security SUV all said she’d planned on starting a new life. In California. What if, even after they’d neutralized the threat, even after he’d beaten murder charges, she hadn’t changed her mind about leaving?

  “I don’t think I’ve seen your skin that shade of white before.” Anthony might take refuge behind those sunglasses, but his apparent amusement stretched across his expression. “Boss.”

  “Do you blame me? Every time I’m around her, someone is either shooting at me or trying to blow me up.” Not the truth, but Anthony didn’t need to know differently. The possibility of Jane saying no to staying in Anchorage, of her taking back those three words she’d blurted when her life was in danger, constricted his hold on the doorknob. A slight sting in his side from where Christopher Menas had tried to gut him like a fish claimed his attention. He forced a smile. “I never thanked you for watching out for her. I appreciate it.”

  “You’ve always said you’d do anything to protect the team, and every one of us feels the same.” Anthony shifted his weight and, for the first time, Sullivan noted a beaten gold ring hanging from around Anthony’s neck, tucked behind the Kevlar vest. Glennon’s ring. Anthony Harris, ex-Ranger and Blackhawk Security weapons expert, had been holding on to the love of his life all this time? He’d never said a word. Sullivan’s heart sank. Surveying the hospital corridor, Anthony shoved the gold band under his shirt without making eye contact. “We don’t agree with you keeping the fact she blackmailed you into all this from us, but if you love her, Jane Reise is part of this team. And we’ll fight for her.”

  “Thanks again.” The knot of tension in his gut dissipated. Not completely, but there was only one way to fix that. Because Sullivan wouldn’t hang on to Jane like Anthony held on to the woman who’d walked out on him, never finding closure, always wondering if she was safe, but not being part of her life. He twisted the hospital room door handle, shouldering his way inside.

  And all the air rushed from his lungs.

  Jane pushed her arms through her jacket beside the hospital bed. He closed the door softly and watched her. The burns and cuts along her creamy skin had started healing, the dark circles he’d noted when they first met lighter than before. Her addictive vanilla scent filled the room, and Sullivan couldn’t help but take a deep breath, holding on to her as long as he could. His Jane.

  “You can stop staring at me any second now.” Leveling that hazel gaze on him from over her shoulder, she smiled. Jane fixed her collar and turned toward him. “Unless you’re here to tell me you’re busting me out of this place a second time.”

  “I’m sure something could be arranged.” In truth, her doctors had already cleared her to leave, but Sullivan shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and leveraged his weight back against the door. A few more minutes with her. That was all he needed. “Surviving a mercenary and my brother certainly looks good on you.”

  The brightness in her eyes dimmed for a split second, and that loss resurrected the gutting pain he’d felt when Menas had planted a knife in his rib cage.

  “I’m so sorry about Marrok, Sullivan. You have no idea how much I wish he hadn’t been involved. I never meant for any of this to happen.” She rolled her lips between her teeth, her expression simply lost. She fidgeted with an invisible speck of dirt on her jacket. “You told me you didn’t hate me before.” She wrapped her arms across her midsection, almost as though she were preparing herself for the worst. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “You deserve the truth.” Sullivan closed the space between them slowly, giving her a chance to back away if she wanted. He could almost read her mind as the muscles along her spine sagged. Guilt. Shame. Regret. “Everything since that night has changed. For the first time in nineteen years, the world knows who I really am. And what I did. Because of you.”

  The color drained from her face. Her jaw slackened. Jane swiped at her face, her attention on the door over his shoulder, then moved to maneuver around him. “I understand.”

  “No, you don’t.” Sullivan clamped a hand aroun
d her arm and spun her into his chest. For the first time, she didn’t fight, and he took that as a good sign. Staring down at her, he locked her in his hold. She wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not without him. “If you understood, you wouldn’t keep running away from me. None of this was your fault, Jane. You can’t control other people’s behavior. You did your job like you were supposed to.”

  Spreading his fingers along her jaw, he fought back the memories of Marrok in his final moments. And the thought of almost losing Jane to the bomb his brother had strapped to her chest. It shouldn’t have gone down like that, but there’d been no way to see the real threat before discovering his brother’s pen in that photo. “As much as I hate to admit what he was capable of, Marrok made his own decisions, and he paid for them.”

  “And what about the fact I turned you in to the police for murder?” Her voice was so soft, soft and vulnerable, and Sullivan’s insides contracted. She refused to look at him, setting her palms against his beating heart. “Is the Full Metal Bitch going to be credited with bringing down Blackhawk Security’s CEO? Because...” She picked at his shirt. “I’m not that person anymore, Sullivan, and I don’t want you, of all people, to believe I am.”

  “I’m not in love with a heartless woman who would do anything in her power to bring down hardworking soldiers. I’m in love with you, the real Jane Reise.” He moved a strand of hair off her cheek, hugging her closer. “You’re determined, yes. Willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want, but I think that’s what I love about you the most. You’re caring and brave. And I can’t imagine a better woman by my side.”

  A smile stretched across her features. “Don’t forget saving your life two more times.”

  “How could I? Lucky for you, the district attorney and I came to an agreement. No prison time, considering the circumstances of who my father was and Marrok’s second death.” Sullivan breathed a little easier at the thought but still tightened his hold on the woman in his arms. He might never have laid eyes on her again had the DA not taken recent events into account. “He hit me with community service and probation as long I promise not to exact vigilante justice again.”