"Everything is under control," Alex said.
"Like hell it is. What is going on?" Isobel screeched. Alex waved his hand and suddenly Jordan was there, wrapping his arms around Isobel's waist.
"We have to get everyone out of here," Alex said to him. Jordan was as white as a sheet, but he nodded. People might not know who Alex was, but they knew to listen to him.
Alex hooked his arm under Beth's back and legs and lifted her up. He started towards the hotel. Most of the crowd had already scattered…except her parents. They were running toward her, tears in her mother's eyes.
"Is she all right?” her mother shouted from a good twenty feet away.
Alex nodded. Her mother rushed over and took her hand, crushing it with a ferocity that surprised her.
"Oh, my baby girl," she said, pushing back her hair. "Who would want to do such a thing to you?"
"I'm going to be okay, Mom." Beth forced the words out. It hurt to talk. Hell, it hurt to breathe.
"I have to get her inside," Alex said, without breaking his stride. "We need to get somewhere secure."
Her mother nodded. "Of course.”
"I can walk," Beth said.
"No, you can't," Alex said, his voice like steel. "You're in shock, Beth. It's going to be a while before you can do anything."
His arms tightened around her as he carried her the rest of the way through the garden.
Her mother never let go of her hand. If she was going to die today, at least she wouldn’t be alone.
***
Alex stopped short as he stepped through the hotel door. The chaos from outside had spilled into the lobby, but the crowd stopped jostling and talking the moment he and Beth came into view.
Alex hesitated. Anyone could be waiting in the crowd with gun in hand to finish the job.
He took a right instead and headed toward the lounge, kicking the glass doors closed behind him.
It wasn't much protection, but he'd take what he could get. He carried Beth to a loveseat against the far wall and laid her down on it. It was early enough in the day that the only other person in there was one very confused bartender prepping for the reception.
He’d known something like this was likely to happen, and he was still shaken all the way to his core.
Mrs. Bradley came running into the room. “I need you to do me a favor,” he told her. “I need you to go out there and find a man named John Ryman. I need you to tell him where we are.”
He gave her John’s description, and she nodded. But he saw all his own fears reflected in her wide eyes. “I don’t want to leave her,” she whispered.
“I understand.” And, dear God, he did. “But we need to get her to a hospital, and John is the only one I trust to make that happen.”
Alex knew that this woman had no reason to trust him. She had no idea who he really was, or what role he played in her daughter’s life. But she didn’t yell, or demand answers. She just looked over his shoulder at Beth.
“It’s okay, Mom. Do what Alex says. He’s here to help,” Beth said in a small voice.
“Alex? I thought his name was Charlie,” Mrs. Bradley said.
“I’ll explain everything later, Mom. I promise.”
Mrs. Bradley nodded and gave Beth one long last look before turning for the door. Alex slid a table in front of the doors as they closed behind her, blocking the way. It wasn’t much protection, but it was the best he could do.
Beth struggled to sit up as he brought her a glass of water. Her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t take the cup. He got down on one knee by her side and held it for her.
Her breath was coming easier now, and her face regaining its color, but not enough to calm him completely. She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I guess you won the bet,” she said, her voice little more than a horse whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Looks like I’m not going to die today.”
She drew in a deep breath and winced. The impact from the bullet had been enough to bruise the hell out her ribs. They might even be broken. And there was no telling what other injuries she might have. He had to get her to the hospital as soon as possible.
But first he was going to have to wait for John's team to clear out the area. He wouldn’t be taking any more chances with her life.
Never again.
Alex pushed back her hair and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. At least he meant it to be gentle, but there were too many emotions warring inside his chest—fear, relief, guilt—and he might have pressed a little harder than he intended.
"That's not funny," he whispered against her ear.
"Come on," she said again. With every breath he could see her getting stronger. "It was a little funny."
He smiled despite himself. She was starting to sound like herself again. It was a good sign. It meant that the worst of the shock was starting to fade.
She tried to sit up, but he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You need to lie down.”
"But I'm feeling better, I swear."
"It's just the adrenaline. You're going to be twice as shaky when it fades."
She gave him a glare before slumping back down against the cushions. "Okay.”
"Anyway, there's nowhere to go. Not until John gets here.”
He knelt at her side, stroked her hair back, and stared into her eyes.
"Is something wrong?" Beth asked after a minute of silence.
"Not anymore."
"But your hand is shaking," Beth said. She’d never sounded so surprised.
He laughed a little. "Of course, it is. For a minute there I thought that I'd lost the woman I love."
Beth's eyes widened. "Love? You love me?"
"Madly," he said.
Now she was the one that was shaking.
"So you're not leaving after all of this is over with?" she asked.
"I can't promise that," he said. "But if I have to go, I'd like you to come with me."
"I'd like that too.” Her voice wasn't so little anymore. He pressed his lips to hers, but had to break the kiss a moment later when there was a hard rap on the glass door.
John was standing on the other side. He didn’t look too happy. A small crowd of onlookers peeked around him.
Alex slid the table away and let him in.
“We lost him,” John wasted no time saying. "There's no trace of the shooter."
"How could that happen?" Alex demanded. “You said you had every inch of these grounds covered."
“I thought we did. Your guy found the only place that we didn't."
Alex cursed and hit the table in front of him. He didn’t want to tell Beth that they'd failed. That she'd taken a shot to the chest for nothing. That she was still in danger.
“The only good new is there's no sign of anyone leaving. If he's still here, we'll catch him," John insisted.
Alex didn't want to hear it. He was done with promises. He would catch this son of a bitch on his own if he had to. Then he would gut him. Simple as that.
Alex had only taken a single step when the sound of an opening door caught his attention. The side door that led to the service hallway swung open. He hadn't secured it. He'd forgotten all about it. Salvatore Munoz leaned out from the hallway.
Alex had barely curled his fingers around the gun at his waist when the shot was fired. Munoz ducked back behind the door. Alex pulled his weapon and wasted no time returning fire. John was right behind him. They dove behind a table.
Beth shrieked at the sounds of the shots. The crowd outside the glass doors scattered. Pandemonium exploded in the hallway as people tumbled over themselves to get to safety.
Alex looked over his shoulder at Beth. "You have to get out of here," he shouted. "Go to the room. Get my gun out of the closet and shoot anyone who comes to the door who isn't me. John and I will cover you."
Beth struggled to stand. Her legs were still wobbly, but she managed. Alex and John both unloaded their clips as she ran for the door. She fumbled
with the lock, but made it out.
He prayed to God that he’d made the right decision.
***
Beth stumbled into the lobby. Her legs felt like rubber bands beneath her, but there was enough adrenaline running through her system to keep her upright.
The lobby was mostly empty. There were still a few people huddled around the far door, some pushing and shoving to get out, others trying to sneak one last look. She didn’t recognize anyone.
Good, that meant that everyone she cared about was far away and out of danger.
Beth tried the door to the stairs but it wouldn’t budge.
Crap. Somebody had probably panicked and locked it as they went in there for cover.
Beth went to the elevator and pressed the button. Miracle of miracles, the doors opened immediately. She stepped inside.
She drew in a deep breath, her first since she’d been shot. She was letting it out when she realized that someone had slipped in behind her just before the elevator doors slid closed.
Beth spun around and came face to face with the man who wanted to kill her.
Chapter 14
"Hello, Miss Bradley," he said. The sound of his calm, measured voice chilled her down to the bone. "My congratulations. You've turned out to be a very hard woman to kill."
Oh God, she was going to die.
She made a little whimpering sound. Fear held her paralyzed. She tried to beg for her life, but nothing came out. Not that it would have mattered. This man wasn’t the kind who could be swayed by words.
He held a big black gun in his hand, and it was pointed at her. Not at her chest this time. Of course not. This time the gun was aimed straight at her head. He pressed the button for the top floor, and the elevator started to rise.
“You understand that I have to make sure the job is done right this time. Nothing personal."
Beth closed her eyes tight. In just a few seconds, her brains were going to paint the wall behind her.
This stranger was going to kill her just because she had wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time. Just when she had finally figured out what she wanted in life. Just as she'd found love. It wasn't fair.
Beth opened her eyes. No, it wasn't fair. It was wrong. And she wasn't going to let it happen. Not with out a fight.
The man waited until they were between floors before leaning back and pulling the emergency stop button. The old elevator lurched awkwardly. The man tilted off balance. And Beth saw her opportunity.
She threw herself at the man. Her body hit him full force, and he stumbled backwards. His head hit hard against the wall, but he held fast to the gun.
He stumbled, lashing out with his fist. The punch landed hard against Beth’s face, and the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth.
She was going to have to find something to fight with or this was going to be one short battle. The man outweighed her by a good fifty pounds, and he had a gun. She went for the only thing she could find in the confined space. The fire extinguisher.
She swung it against him just as he recovered enough to take aim at her. The gun went off.
Searing pain tore through her left arm. The florescent bulb behind her exploded, plunging the elevator into darkness for a fraction of a second before the emergency lights came to life. A surreal red glow filled the elevator.
The man swore in pain and grasped his wrist with his free hand.
Beth didn't waste any time. She swung again. And again.
The gun fell to floor. So did the man.
She swung again and heard a bone crack.
Once more, and his eyes rolled up into his head. A long groan came from his lips.
Beth dropped the fire extinguisher and picked up the gun. She positioned herself in the corner, propping her back up against the wall and holding the gun in front of her with both hands. Blood streamed down her arm and onto the barrel before dripping to the floor.
She'd been shot. The pain was almost unbearable. She had to get to help or she was going to collapse right along side her attacker.
She managed to push the emergency stop button back in with her good hand, then the lobby button. The elevator slowly made its way back down to the ground floor.
It only took twenty-three seconds for the elevator to reach the lobby and the doors to open. Beth counted every single one of them.
Alex was standing there when they arrived. He stared down at the bloody and limp body on the floor, and then up at her. Relief washed over his face.
His arms were around her in a heartbeat. Only then did she drop the gun. She slumped in his arms as her legs gave out.
"That's him," she said, through the tears and blood that covered her face. "That's the guy."
John entered the elevator as Alex carried her out. He gave her an appreciative nod as she went by.
"You're wounded," Alex said. He called out for help before sitting her down just outside of the elevator.
“You should see the other guy,” she said.
Alex managed a shaky smile. He grasped her face between his hands and kissed her just as the EMTs arrived. They tried to get Alex to move away as they treated her and got her up on a gurney, but he refused to leave her side. Not even for a second. Not as they wheeled her from the hotel. Not as the put her in the ambulance. It wasn't until she had to go into surgery that he finally let go of her hand.
"You're going to be fine," he said kissing her on the forehead before letting the medical team push her through the double doors. "I'll be here waiting for you."
***
“You’ve got to tell these people to stop, Isobel. I don’t think this room can take another bouquet,” Beth said, as Isobel tried to fit another vase of flowers on the crowded bedside table.
Her hospital room was quite a bit smaller than the suite at the Kensington Hotel, but it wasn't bad. There was a window that looked out over the six-story concrete parking structure. And she could tell time by listening to sounds of the buses and commuter trains passing by.
Flowers had started flooding in the day after she’d been admitted, right around the time the story hit the news. Well, not every detail made the news. It turned out that the CIA wasn't too keen on sharing the bit about its treasonous agent. They mostly kept to the part about the bringing down Salvatore Munoz and stopping a future attack on the oil reserves, and how a citizen who was critical to the whole mission was injured in the attack.
It all played very nicely on the six o'clock news.
The flowers appeared after that. There hadn't been enough room in her cramped hospital room for all of them. So Beth had shared the bouquets with the nurses and all the other patients on the floor.
“You try stopping them,” Isobel said. “These are from my aunt Maritza.”
Beth tried not to laugh, and not just because she had three badly bruised ribs, a busted lip and a bullet hole that went clean through her left arm. She knew she couldn't change people. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to anymore.
"Look, Isobel. I know words aren't going to be enough, but I'm so sorry that I ruined your wedding."
Isobel picked up Beth's hand. "You didn’t ruin anything. My uncle was the one who did that. I should be the one apologizing to you for what my family did to you.”
"It's not your fault. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't."
Isobel nodded. "I understand. And it's okay. Jordan and I picked a new date."
Beth's face lit up. "When?"
"Next Friday. We've settled on a nice civil ceremony down at the courthouse."
Beth's face fell. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Isobel said. A huge smile lit up her face. "Do you have any idea how well armed courthouses are?"
Beth winced as she laughed again.
"You look tired, Beth. I'm thinking I better go and let you rest."
Isobel turned to leave, but before she did she turned and looked at Alex.
"So...Alex, right?"
"Right," he said.
"I guess tha
t you're not a gigolo then?"
He chuckled and shook his head. "I guess not."
“That means I owe you an apology," Isobel said.
"It's not necessary."
"I'm thinking that it is." Isobel said. "But what I said still stands. Don't you dare hurt her."
"I have no plans to," he said, and tightened his grasp on Beth's hand.
"Good. Because you don't scare me, Mr. CIA Agent. I'll still come after you, whoever you are."
"Yes, ma'am." Alex said with a laugh.
Beth turned to Alex once Isobel was gone.
"You don't have to sleep in that chair again tonight. The doctors say I'm doing much better.”
He shook his head. “I'm not here because I have to be, Beth. I want to be with you. I love you."
Her heart swelled. Those simple words did more to heal her than any doctor's medicine.
"Yeah, but you could get yourself a good night's sleep in a real bed."
"I don't need a bed," he said "I need you. How many times do I have tell you before it gets through? I'm not leaving. Not now. Not ever."
Beth was thinking that a hundred might do. Maybe a thousand. Maybe a lifetime’s worth.
<<<<>>>>
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About The Author
Adrienne Bell has lived her entire life in Northern California. She now resides on the far edge of the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and kids. You can follow the minutia of her life on Twitter, or see the pictures she likes to share on Facebook, or check out the exciting topics that she decides to dedicate a few hundred words to on her blog. Oh, and she thanks you for reading.
The Wedding Trap (Second Service) Page 15