by Abby Gordon
“Uh, yeah,” the boy nodded, a smile blossoming across his face.
“Max?” she gasped, then buried her face against his chest. Maybe one day she could explain what she’d felt in the few heartbeats before his hand had moved. “God, I thought I’d lost you again.”
“Not hardly, honey,” he whispered, holding her tight. He gripped Charlie’s hands before wrapping his other arm around his son. “Are you both all right?”
“I’ve got more bruises from Mom landing on me,” Charlie quipped. “You wouldn’t think it would hurt so much, considering how small she is. She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”
“Must have been how you landed,” Max grinned.
“Great. Just great,” Ginny muttered. “I’m surrounded by jokers.” She glanced around. “Charlie, hold him up.”
She went to the nearest body and rolled him as she removed his shirt.
“What’s that for?” Charlie wondered. His hands went up to support his father’s body. “Mom?”
Ginny heard the hysteria in her son’s voice. Oh, crap. This was not a good time for him to fall apart. He suddenly looked very much like a nine-year-old. Gee. Maybe because he was. Despite all her lessons, he was still a kid dammit! She had to calm him down. Make him think about other things
“To keep our hero here from bleeding to death,” she told him, coming back and ripping the brown cloth. She quickly folded two pieces and checked his back. “Looks like it went through,” she murmured, looking around. “Yep, that must be it,” she nodded at the wall.
Charlie followed her gaze even as she guided his hand to press the pad to the front of Max’s shoulder.
“Press hard,” she told him. And had to smile.
Distraction and diversion worked.
“Wow,” he stared. He looked at Max. “That must hurt like hell!”
“Charlie!” Ginny scolded, trying to hold the other pad as she secured it with a ripped sleeve.
Max gave his son an understanding look that was full of male bonding.
“It does a bit. They were pretty good.”
“Did you know them?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Max nodded. “They worked with us ten years ago. We were told they’d been killed by Polaris a couple days ago.”
“Joke’s on you!” came the shout.
Max and Charlie looked around as Ginny’s head came up. A tall woman in her fifties stood at the corner Charlie had indicated stairs were.
“You bitch,” she growled. Oh, God, she knew that face! And everything started to make sense. Using Paul’s laptop, she had reviewed every female operative from twenty years ago. One woman stood out for her boldness. And her supposed death. Ginny couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to. “I’ll tear out your fucking throat for what you did to him.”
Max and Charlie’s eyes widened. But before they could turn to look at Ginny, she was leaping over Max’s legs and charging after the other woman. Their footsteps faded down the back stairs.
“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Max muttered. He had not a clue what Ginny was reacting to, but it had to be major for her to act like that. And to swear in front of Charlie after she’d been getting upset at the slightest “damn”? Someone was about to die. “Help me up, Charlie. You’re about to witness just how dangerous your mother can be.”
“I’ve already seen how dangerous my father can be,” Charlie responded tentatively as he hefted Max’s arm around his shoulder.
“They took my son. They threatened you and Ginny,” he grunted as he gained his feet. And if Ginny was after the ring-leader…He remembered the way she and Nia had had their heads together and then Ginny had used Paul’s laptop. Oh, shit! That was so not good. “Let’s go get the rest of the team. We may need them to keep your mother from killing a key witness.”
“What?” Charlie gasped as he was tugged down the hall to the front stairs. “Mom wouldn’t…”
“Oh, yes, she would. In a heartbeat. Art might be able to…”
“Uncle Art’s here?” Charlie paused at the top of the staircase. “He came?”
Max saw hope bloom in his son’s eyes and mentally cursed at those who’d played God ten years earlier. It hadn’t just been Ginny and himself who’d been kept apart, but their son from the rest of his family.
“How well do you know Art?” he asked as they started down the steps.
“Not well,” Charlie sighed. “He’s always on business trips.” The boy gave his father a “now I know the truth look.” “I don’t think he was on business trips like my coaches go on.”
“Not quite,” Max agreed.
Halfway down the front stairs, they saw Art, Nia, and Zach coming through the door. Zach’s face was bloody and bruised; Nia’s arm was in a sling; and Art was favoring his left leg.
“Charlie,” Art breathed, smiling. “Thank God!”
“Go,” Max whispered with a grin.
Charlie bounded down the steps and threw himself at his uncle. Art gathered his nephew to him and didn’t seem ashamed of the tears that marked his face.
“Thank God,” he sighed as Max reached them. “What happened to you?”
“George and Sam,” he said bluntly. “Tales of their previous deaths were exaggerated.”
“Shit,” Art scowled. “Are they dead now?”
“Affirmative.”
“And where’s Ginny?”
Father and son exchanged nearly identical amused glances.
“Ginny’s life is going to be extremely interesting from now on,” Art murmured.
“She went after Polaris,” Max told him. “We’re on our way to watch the fireworks. I think they went out…”
On cue, the headsets rippled to life.
“Art! In the back,” Paul shouted. “Ginny’s tearing the shit out of someone!”
“Come on, Dad,” Charlie urged, tucking himself under Max’s good arm. “You promised I could watch.” Charlie reached for Art as they headed for the rear of the house. “I think Mom is angry, Uncle Art. I’ve never heard her swear, and she let loose a couple good ones when she saw the woman in charge.”
“I’ll bet she did, Charlie. I’ll just bet she did.”
“It was Polaris,” muttered Max. “And Ginny seemed to know her.”
Ginny raced after the woman as they pounded down the back stairs and through the kitchen. Polaris made it off the porch before Ginny launched herself off the railing. Tackling the taller woman around the waist, Ginny held on as they rolled.
Polaris shoved her off and they scrambled to their feet.
“So, Miss Smarty-pants, Goody-two-shoes is going to try to join the big leagues,” she sneered. “You think you can take me on?”
“I nearly had you ten years ago,” snarled Ginny, ducking a kick and darting in to land a quick combination to her stomach. “Scared you, didn’t I?”
“You sniveling bitch. You were so easy to get rid of!” Polaris crowed and lashed out, connecting a fist to Ginny’s temple. “Everyone believed the lies.”
“They don’t believe it now,” Ginny said quietly. “And you’re as good as dead.”
A cackle came from the woman’s throat. “You don’t have the guts, little girl.”
Ginny weaved away from the long arms, spun and kicked. Polaris gasped as the boot-clad foot hit her twice in the ribs. She tried to lash out, but Ginny spun on the kicking leg and the other leg connected with the other side.
With a roar, Polaris lunged, trying to use her size advantage.
“Oh, fuck,” Art breathed as they stepped out onto the porch.
“What?” Max frowned, keeping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders as they watched. “You know her?”
“Yeah,” the older man replied. “Holy shit. She’s supposed to be dead.”
“Art, Vince and Frank just pulled up,” Gordon’s voice came over their headsets.
“We’re in the back. Send them through the house,” Art told him.
The rain had faded to a mist but the yard was muddy and t
he two women were already covered in muck. It was obvious to everyone that Ginny was kicking the shit out of Polaris. Polaris was nearly six feet tall and built like a muscular Amazon, but Ginny seemed to be letting all the fear and rage of the past decade out on her opponent.
Staying inside Polaris’ reach, Ginny was more boxing than using martial arts. Every now and then, the taller woman got in a punch that would send Ginny reeling backward. But every time, Ginny charged back with a flurry of jabs.
The two women circled each other warily now. Both were bleeding. Polaris limped on her left leg. Ginny had cuts on her forehead. Max thought blood was dripping into her ear but wasn’t sure.
Gordon came around the corner. “Ginny!” He started to rush toward the women.
“Stay back!” Max ordered. “This is Ginny’s.”
“But…”
“Stay back,” Art backed him up. “Ginny’s more than earned this.”
Despite having a shorter reach, Ginny had Polaris on the run. Blocking what she could, Polaris was backpedalling, unable to counter Ginny’s attack. Two well-aimed kicks to the temple had Polaris reeling backward as if drunk. Toward the porch.
Those on the porch could see the seething fury blazing in her eyes as Ginny stepped up for the finishing blows.
“That was for Max,” she whispered, hammering a punch to the stomach. “This is for Charlie.” Another punch, just below the solar plexus. “And this is for Frank.”
Jaws dropped as Ginny’s leg hooked and knocked Polaris to her knees. Standing over her, she brought the edge of her hand to the junction of the other woman’s throat and neck. Polaris weaved. Ginny shoved her aside like a rag-doll headed for the trash heap.
“Frank?” echoed several voices.
“What?” asked Frank as he, Vince, and several other agents came from the back door.
Black tendrils clung damply to Ginny’s heart-shaped face as she looked up at her former supervisor.
“Polaris,” she said simply, compassion in her eyes.
Frank’s gaze went to the fallen woman who groaned and pushed herself up to her hands and knees. His hand went to his heavily scarred throat.
“Holy shit,” Jason whispered. “Ginny was right. Polaris was an agent.”
“Ariana?” he whispered, staring at the woman he’d loved who had betrayed him, who had nearly killed him. “You’re Polaris?”
The woman raised her head and began swearing. Ginny backhanded her across the mouth. Ariana collapsed back into the mud. Ed and Gordon hauled her to her feet.
“Watch your mouth,” she warned, “in front of my son.”
“I think we should go put her someplace else,” Ed suggested with a grin.
“Somewhere a bit safer,” Gordon added with a grin. “Before Ginny gets her breath back.”
“Ha!” she scoffed, already bounding up the steps to her son.
Ginny embraced Charlie even as Max’s arms enfolded both of them.
“Any other surprises?” Vince wondered.
Ginny looked at Max.
“George and Sam are upstairs. Dead,” he answered. “They must’ve faked their deaths to throw us off.”
Frank watched Ed and Gordon haul the woman around the corner of the house and shook his head. When he looked at Ginny, he looked twenty years older than his fifty-four. Sorrow and regret were in his eyes.
“I loved her. I tried to make excuses for her when an operation went bad. I can see now that she had wanted it to. As a cover. So on the next op she…” His hand brushed his throat.
“Who said those things about me ten years ago?” Ginny asked.
“George said Max was conscious when he found the two of you,” he answered in a defeated voice. “I’m sorry, Ginny. I let my past blind me to what was happening. I’m sorry.”
“They wanted to keep Max and me apart,” she replied.
“But why?” Frank frowned.
“Duh,” Al sneered, stepping away from the group. He drew his gun. “So the two of them couldn’t figure it out. Ginny damn near did ten years ago.”
As Al aimed his weapon at Frank and Vince, nearly twenty guns came swinging out and firing. Al staggered backward. Falling over the porch railing, he aimed his gun one more time. As he pulled the trigger, Ginny shoved Charlie behind her, then fell back against him.
“Mom!” Charlie screamed over the noise.
He held his mother’s limp body for a split-second before his father took her. Max lowered her to the ground. He would’ve sworn that his heart and lungs—-shit!—his entire body had stopped functioning. Everything came to a screeching halt.
“Ginny, don’t do this,” he whispered. Her head was covered in blood. “Dammit, don’t you die on me.”
“Here,” Art said, tearing off his shirt.
Nia gently parted the hair. “It’s not deep. Looks like the bullet creased her,” she frowned, holding the hair back so Art could hold the cloth to Ginny’s head. “But she might have been hit during the fight.”
“What fight?” Vince demanded, turning from directing agents to carry Al to a vehicle for transportation to the hospital. “Which one of you was in a fight?”
“Ginny beat the shit out of Polaris,” Art grinned. “Charlie, you tell her I swore in front of you and I’ll deny it until I’m blue in the face.”
“Sure thing, Uncle Art,” he grinned back.
Max was checking Ginny.
“Max?” she murmured.
“Stop scaring the…stop scaring me,” he whispered, trying not to swear in front of his son. Okay, that part of being a father was going to be tough. His fingers brushed her cheek. “No more scaring me. Okay?”
“Okay,” she smiled slightly. “Something else to talk about later.”
“Mom?” Charlie whispered.
“Yes, baby?”
“I’m hungry. Does anyone have any food?”
Crying and laughing, Ginny pulled her son’s head to her shoulder. “How about the cookies and bread I made yesterday?” she asked him. “Your father thought you might like them when we found you.”
“Sweet,” Charlie grinned, meeting his father’s gaze.
Max held them, reluctant for anything to ruin that perfect moment. He held them as they walked to the waiting SUV. He held them as Zach drove back to Agency Headquarters and the special medical unit that had the most up-to-date equipment and even some experimental stuff. He held them as medics examined them both, and refused to leave or have the three of them separated. He knew that it would take time for him to get everything lined up right, but he knew they would be together. Everything he wanted was right in front of him—like waking up and finding that his dreams about this woman in his arms were real. Playing ball with his son. Taking this woman out on a real, honest-to-goodness date. The future. Theirs. He could see it in Ginny’s eyes.
The words hadn’t been said. No promises spoken. He just knew.
Chapter Thirteen
“Is he sleeping?” Max asked as she came down the stairs from Charlie’s loft.
“Finally,” she nodded, accepting the glass of wine he handed her. “It wasn’t exactly the type of weekend he’s used to.”
He wrapped an arm around her as they went outside to sit on the swing. Ginny leaned back against him, feeling content and safe.
“You’ve been almost too quiet,” he observed. “What do you think will happen when we go in tomorrow?”
“Too many things don’t add up,” she replied.
“Such as?”
She let her head fall back against his chest and found the North Star. “George and Sam didn’t answer the call. Mark said he and Al didn’t hear from them as they headed toward us. Mark covered the perimeter while Al found us in the rubble.”
“But Frank said George told him what I’d said,” breathed Max. “You realize what that means?”
“Someone else briefed people or George and Mark lied. Or everyone’s lying to everyone.”
“Someone has to have coordinated all of this.�
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“That’s what has me worried.”
“It couldn’t have been Art or your cousins,” he told her, guessing that was her worry. “Art wouldn’t have been in a position to put something like this in place.”
“I know,” she nodded miserably.
“I don’t think Frank was lying,” Max said slowly. “I saw his face when he realized who Polaris was. He was gutted.”
She was silent and he finally tilted her head up. “Tell me now before we have to deal with it tomorrow.”
“Many people in my family are in the agency.”
“Besides your brother, five cousins, and an uncle?” he frowned.
“My mother is Minerva Addleson. She’s been Deputy Director for Special Assignments the past twelve years.
He inhaled sharply. “Was she an operative beforehand?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Anyone else?” he asked. “Don’t let me be blindsided.”
“My grandfather and Jason’s father.”
“Who are they?”
She looked up at him helplessly and struggled to find the words. “The Director and Deputy Director of the Agency.”
“Jesus,” he breathed. “Ginny, do you realize what…”
“Yes,” she sighed. “That means someone in my family did this.”
“Any ideas?”
“No,” she breathed. “Max, I don’t know who to trust.”
“I think, for all his efforts to imitate an iceberg, that you can trust Art,” he finally said. “I was more focused on him than the cousins, although they’re all pieces of work.”
“Maybe I should resign,” she said after a long moment of silence. “I’ve saved quite a bit and Charlie’s college fund is fairly healthy. The house is nearly paid off and…”
“If you resign, you’ll never find out who did this to us. To Charlie,” Max shook his head. “Not knowing would drive you crazy.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?” A short bark of laughter echoed in the still night. “Ginny, you have an insatiable curiosity about things and an unending need to finish every puzzle that comes around.”