Dangerous in Love (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #1)

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Dangerous in Love (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #1) Page 17

by Sidney Bristol


  “But—”

  “No buts. You saw a ten year old kid you thought was in danger and you acted accordingly. You had no way of knowing that kid had a gun, or that he’d shoot at us. The world is a fucked up place, man, and all we can do is be the best version of us we can be. Which means, I’m going to turn into Mr. Dad when they let me out of this white box, and you’ll keep doing what you do best.”

  Shane swallowed.

  “Anyway, the love of my life is now standing right here and I think she has a few words to say to you,” Cisco said.

  “Shane?”

  “Hi, Laura.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye and stay safe to you this time.”

  “You had other things to worry about.” Shane tapped his toe against the cabinets.

  “Well, you’ve been in my thoughts. I hope everything is going well?”

  “Well as can be.”

  “I suppose Kyle’s told you, already?”

  “Yeah, he mentioned Cisco’s retiring, officially.”

  “Just because he’s not working with you anymore, doesn’t mean you get to be a stranger. Cisco can’t do any heavy lifting for a while, so I’m going to need to ask you to do a few favors.”

  “Whatever you need.”

  “Come home. Have dinner with us. You’re part of our family, too. Oh, the doctor just walked in. Stay safe, Shane.”

  The line hung up.

  Shane placed the phone on the counter and stared at his reflection in the window.

  The guilt wasn’t gone, but neither Cisco or his wife blamed him at all. They were the kind of people he wanted to be like. Happy. Warm. Loving. They reminded him of his family growing up, all the laughter and fun. He’d forgotten those last two things, in favor of focusing on the job and orders.

  That’s what his life needed, that and Lacey.

  Shane picked up the phone and walked through the dining room. Kyle was on the company phone, likely speaking with Zain or the boss, so Shane left the phone and headed for the stairs. He’d check on Lacey, then see about some sleep.

  The doors upstairs were all shut, save for the front bedroom they were using as a lookout perch. Shane didn’t pause to check on the guys and instead went straight to the room they were using.

  Lacey was sitting in the middle of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest.

  “Lacey? Sweetheart?” He closed the door then crawled onto the bed next to her.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him.

  “What happened?” He hugged her to him.

  “I talked to my family,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “They actually care about me.”

  Shane kissed her brow and eased them both down to the mattress. She curled against his side and he held her as she spoke, pouring out her soul to him. If only he could hold onto it when this was all over.

  Lacey listened to Shane’s breathing and stared at the ceiling. The security light outside cast odd patters on the walls, further distorted by the rain. It’d let up a little, but not much. The front was even slower now but not as heavy as what they’d weathered in Jamaica.

  The minutes ticked on, the digital clock keeping her appraised of every passing moment.

  She wasn’t going to sleep.

  Oh, she was plenty tired, but sleep avoided her.

  She’d blocked out so much and hadn’t even realized it. She remembered the passage of days, consciously turning on the camera or avoiding certain people, but it was as though she remembered it through a fog. Disjointed and distant.

  Lacey knew her manner of living was dangerous, but she made up for that by being extra cautious and making friends with good people. She’d skated by so many likely accidents unscathed and unharmed. This time she hadn’t been so lucky, and the scars of her time spent being held hostage would go with her.

  Shane was right. She was impulsive and often careless, though he’d phrased that label nicer.

  She had to change. She needed to be different.

  There was always the chance she could be held hostage again. This time she’d made it out alive. Would she next time?

  Lacey sat up, facing the window staring out at the night sky.

  It didn’t call to her like it used to. The stars, the great beyond, all those wondrous nooks and crannies of the world still fascinated her, but she didn’t have the urge to go right now. In fact, maybe giving it a break would be good for her. Do something here, visit her family, see if she couldn’t drag Shane out of his routine.

  These were foreign ideas.

  The muscles in her chest constricted until it was hard to breathe. She gripped the side of the bed and leaned forward.

  Had this experience broken her?

  Would she ever be the same?

  She got to her feet and padded across to the small window overlooking the back yard.

  For as long as she’d been on her own, she’d had itchy feet. The need to wander, to go somewhere new, and now she was thinking about...staying put. What was wrong with her?

  She felt things for Shane, but relationships always ended the same for her. Eventually, the urge to wander would strike and she’d go. No one had ever tied her down before, and she didn’t want to hurt him by letting him think she’d be there when he got back from whatever life-threatening thing he was doing.

  Lacey swallowed and released the catch on the window.

  She needed to smell the earth, the newly fallen rain, feel it on her skin.

  She swung the window open and leaned out, water splattering her face.

  Eventually, she knew she’d have to stop this lifestyle, do something else, but she’d thought she had time left. Five, ten years maybe. Were her days of living out of a backpack over with?

  She didn’t want to face that question. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and burrow in close to Shane.

  She turned, studying Shane’s big body hogging the bed.

  For all his gruff mannerisms, he was gentle. He didn’t let just anyone in. She hadn’t given him much choice. She’d thought she was getting back at him for making her feel, for bossing her around. Instead they’d somehow become entwined. Complicated. If she could go back, would she tell her then self to leave him alone?

  She wasn’t sure she would. And that worried her.

  Her sister often called her selfish. That passing in and out of people’s lives was a cruel way to carry on. Lacey had always thought she was doing them a kindness by not sticking around.

  It was different with Shane, but she was making the same moves she always did.

  She forced herself in, she wrecked things...and then she left.

  Lacey cared for Shane, which meant she had to ask herself if she was the best thing for him.

  Deep down, she wanted to be. She’d never had anyone support her like he did, with that quiet strength. Oh, he’d boss her around if she gave him an inch, but they’d found a way to work together. How could she pass that up?

  The truth was, eventually he’d get tired of her. Someone better would come along, and they’d be over. But maybe, for now, she should play the hand dealt to her and see where things with Shane went. Was that selfish? Maybe, but it wasn’t often that someone wanted her to stick around. It wouldn’t kill her to hang up her backpack for a while and take a break. The world would still be there when she was ready to wander again, but Shane wouldn’t always have a spot for her.

  She leaned against the windowsill, sticking her head out. Rain dripped off the eaves and onto her upturned face.

  A flash of light below caught her attention.

  She peered at the spot, staring into the darker shadows along the wall.

  “Shane?” she said over her shoulder.

  Was she seeing spots from lightning? Or were those shadows moving? It was hard to tell in all that rain.

  A figure passed in front of the wrought iron gate painted white.

  There was a person—or people—out there.
>
  “Shane.” Lacey threw herself at the bed and grasped Shane by the shoulders. “Wake up. There are people outside.”

  His eyes snapped open, focusing on her face.

  “Where?” He pushed her aside and scrambled to the window.

  “The garden gate.” Lacey pulled on her yoga pants and shoved her feet into the boots. Where was her vest? The too-big thing Shane had insisted she bring up with her.

  There. By the door.

  She knew what this meant, what Kyle had said.

  In the event that people attacked, go for the patio.

  Well, those people weren’t supposed to be there.

  “Shit.” Shane grabbed his vest and slid it on while he spoke into the radio and then fit an earpiece on, muting the replies. “Intruders, north west corner proceeding south. Unknown number.”

  Lacey huddled by the door, struggling to get the vest to sit just right.

  Shane drew a handgun. The metallic snick of a bullet entering the chamber made her blood run cold.

  “Shane, what’s happening?”

  He crossed the room and grasped her chin, staring into her eyes.

  “You stay close behind me, and do what I say—understand? Our job is to get to the exit and hold the ground there. Got it?”

  She nodded.

  “Lacey?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  “Okay.” He let go of her and stepped between her and the door, cracking it open.

  Lacey covered her face with her hands.

  “Come on,” Shane said.

  She was so close to him she tripped on his feet.

  Figures moved from room to room on silent feet.

  Lacey heard the high pitch of Aanya’s voice. The poor woman was going to have a nervous breakdown soon.

  Shane spoke in a low voice, but not to her. She swallowed and grasped the back of his vest as they crept down the hall to the top of the stairs.

  Marcos’ people could be down there.

  Shane proceeded down the stairs, gun up.

  The rain sounded too loud.

  The silence of the first floor was absolute.

  Weren’t they supposed to have a lookout or something? What’d happened?

  Lacey shoved the fear that the worst had happened deep down and concentrated on one foot in front of the other, inching down to the first floor.

  Lights slashed across the windows at the front of the house.

  Shane planted his hand on her back and shoved her down to a crouch on the wooden staircase.

  “We’ve got a visual at the front of the house,” Shane whispered. He glanced at her. “When we go, make for the patio exit. Worst case, hide in the closet behind the tubs, got it?”

  Lacey nodded. She didn’t know what closet or tubs he was talking about, but she’d figure it out.

  “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, understand?” He squeezed her hand.

  “Just don’t get shot, okay?”

  “It’s part of the job.” He stared back through the arch into the living room. “Go. Now.”

  Shane moved fast, and Lacey took the stairs two and three at a time to keep up with him.

  They ducked through the dining room.

  Kyle was already at the exit through the kitchen, peering out.

  “It’s clear, but I don’t know for how long,” he said.

  Lacey snatched up the laptop and shoved whatever cords and her camera she could down her shirt.

  “The house is nearly surrounded.” Shane stayed at the hall entrance, peering toward the front of the house.

  “They must have used the rain as cover. Sneak in during the worst of it and wait for a break.” Kyle leaned through into the kitchen. “We’ve got to go.”

  Lacey grabbed the helmet off the buffet from earlier and shoved it on. Her hands shook and she didn’t know how much more of this she could weather before it broke her, too.

  Glass broke somewhere across the house and an alarm chimed.

  “We’ve got to go, now,” Kyle demanded.

  A hiss.

  “That’s gas,” Shane said.

  “Go,” someone called from the stairs.

  “I’ve got the keys,” Shane announced.

  Lacey hated feeling helpless. She followed close on Shane’s heels, crouch-running through the kitchen, and vowed to do exactly what she was told from here on out.

  “Run,” Shane barked.

  He threw the patio door open and Lacey sprinted for the waiting van. Shane outdistanced her, yanking the sliding door open and bounding into the driver’s seat.

  Behind them, more glass shattered and men yelled.

  Lacey stared in horror as three flashes of light lit up the interior.

  “Damn it,” Shane roared. He cranked the engine and the van rumbled to life.

  One after another, Adam, Isaac, Felix and Kyle ran out.

  Shane spat curses.

  The guys tumbled in one on top of the other and Shane hit the gas.

  “Where’s Aanya? Where’s Dev?” Lacey leaned out the door, looking back at the house.

  Figures swathed in black circled, guns in hand.

  “Get back.”

  Arms wrapped around her and someone else slammed the door shut, not a moment too soon. Bullets pinged off the exterior.

  “God damn it.” Kyle threw something that bounced off the back doors of the van.

  “What happened?” Lacey braced her back against the side of the van and her feet against the floor to keep from being thrown around.

  Isaac stared at her, his gaze not what she’d call friendly.

  “They were there for you,” he said.

  Lacey swallowed.

  15.

  Shane wanted to reach behind him and deck Isaac. Where the hell did he get off saying that?

  They’d all heard the shouted command through the comms, but they didn’t have to tell her.

  Headlights turned behind him.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “We’ve got company.”

  And they were in a beat-up old delivery van, with no real speed or maneuverability on wet roads.

  “They’re gaining.” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for Lacey.

  “How many shots do we have?” Kyle asked.

  Shane kept his mouth shut. If this went bad—and it was likely to—he’d keep his weapon on him to protect Lacey. He wasn’t entirely certain the others would take a bullet for her, and he damn well would.

  The others rattled off their weapons checks, which were dismally low. The bulk of their munitions had been left in the secondary vehicle in the garage. They were running with nothing but what they each carried on their person.

  “Get to a police station,” Kyle ordered.

  That would be great—if Shane knew where one was. They’d covered those all important details surrounding the hotel, but here? Shane had no fucking clue where a damn gas station was.

  He turned, sailing through an empty intersection on a red light.

  The wheels skidded and they fishtailed, the standing water already creating hazardous driving conditions.

  “They’re gaining,” Felix called out.

  Shane pressed the accelerator to the floor. The old engine chugged, but it didn’t have the power to go much over sixty.

  “They’re either going to ram us or fire on us,” Kyle said. “Lacey, get in the passenger seat and stay close to the floor.”

  She didn’t argue, which was a damn first.

  Shane thrust his phone at her. “Call the police.”

  The headlights were so close the glare in the mirrors partially blinded him.

  The van lurched forward and they swerved.

  “They’re ramming us. These fuckers are ramming us,” Isaac shouted.

  “Isaac—don’t!” Kyle yelled.

  Don’t—what?

  What the hell was going on back there?

  Isaac kicked the back door open and fired at the same moment the car accelerated, driving the nose up un
der the bumper.

  Shane tried his best to stay focused, but the top-heavy vehicle, old tires and wet roads worked against them. The van swerved, fish tailing. He twisted the wheel, but not fast enough. The top of the van tipped. He grabbed the door in an effort to hold on, but he was already falling out of the driver’s seat.

  The van hit its side and skidded. Metal crunched. Glass shattered. He got a foot in the face. Lacey grunted under him. The guys yelled.

  He’d weathered landmines with greater ease.

  Before the van had fully come to a stop, Shane hauled himself off Lacey and crawled up, pushing at the driver’s side door.

  Rain pelted him, soaking him to the skin in less than a minute.

  They were fish in a barrel. They didn’t have the luxury of licking their wounds and waiting for the world to stop spinning. They had to act. Now.

  Shane pulled himself up so he sat on what had been the side of the van.

  The pursuing car had stopped a good twenty feet back.

  The streetlights illuminated the three men. It wouldn’t be long before there were more. If Lacey was truly the target, they’d bring everything they had to find her.

  Shane didn’t want to fire. Their goal was to bring their clients home alive and unhurt, and let the authorities take it from there. But he wasn’t about to let them put a finger on Lacey. If they did, he wouldn’t see her ever again, and she’d become too important to him to allow that to happen.

  Shane drew his only gun and stared down the sights.

  He pulled the trigger and a cold, dead sensation enveloped him.

  Killing wasn’t something he enjoyed, but if it was him—or them—there was no thought required. Those fuckers would die.

  One body hit the pavement.

  The remaining two men crouched behind the open doors, peering at the van.

  Another vehicle turned onto the street, too fast, headed straight for them.

  The reinforcements were there, and they were still sitting ducks.

  Shane squeezed the trigger, aiming for the narrow band of space between the car door and the pavement.

 

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