Safe Harbor

by Kit Kyndall

  She continued holding him, rubbing his back until the worst of the tremors had passed a few minutes later, presumably when the medicine started to absorb into his system. When he appeared calmer and under control, she pulled away slightly, but kept a physical hold on him. “Are you seeing someone for help?”

  He shrugged. “Off and on, when I need to. The town doctor gives me the beta blocker, and I have a counselor online that I can talk to through Skype. I’m not ignoring the problem, because I know it won’t go away on its own. And I want to be whole and functioning again. You can’t believe how much I want that, especially since you’ve come into my life. You give me a new reason to hope, and a new reason to try to manage it. Not just to protect you, but to be with you. But I can’t blame you if it’s too much, and you want to end things now, before you get hurt.”

  She frowned at him. “Your physical scars don’t repulse me.” She had spent several hours the first night they had become lovers showing him just how little the scar on his thigh that extended down past his knee, or the one on his face, bothered her.

  “Neither do your emotional ones. I’m here for you, and I feel the same hope that you do. There’s something special with us. We could be something special. I’m sure of that, and I know you feel it too. You’re not too much for me, and it would be pretty hypocritical for me to decide to pull away because of your PTSD when I brought a possible death sentence down on both of us by coming here.”

  He looked relieved, but since he was stubborn, he clearly couldn’t help adding, “If you change your mind—”

  She glared at him as she pressed her fingers to his lips to keep him from finishing that line. “I won’t, and don’t suggest it again. You’re going to start pissing me off if you think I’m too weak to handle some adversity. You’re worth fighting for, and it’s obvious you feel the same, because you overcame your anxiety to try to teach me how to shoot a gun to protect myself.”

  He snorted. “I fell apart.”

  “But you tried, and you faced your fear. You aren’t weak, and I don’t want to hear that nonsense again.” She winked at him, trying to lighten the situation. “I know how strong you are, mentally and physically, but especially physically. In fact, I’m sure you’re strong enough to pick me up and hold me against that tree while you take me.”

  Gradually, his expression lightened, and he seemed to lose some of his brooding air. “That’s a challenge I’m happy to accept.”

  As he swept her into his arms, carrying her to the tree she’d indicated, she clung to him. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it had served the purpose to distract him, and she was certain they would have to take such battles as they came, sometimes a moment at a time. He wasn’t going to be magically cured overnight, and she didn’t expect him to. She had completely meant it with absolute sincerity when she told him he was worth fighting for. Anytime he expressed that doubt, it would be up to her to show her resolve and bolster his own. That was a challenge she took on—not lightly, but with full commitment and determination.

  9

  Julia bolted upright in bed, an unfamiliar sound waking her. As Justin sat up beside her, she realized the sound wasn’t unfamiliar. It was simply out of place in the quiet solitude of his ranch. “Is your friend Olivia arriving via helicopter?”

  Justin shrugged, but he looked concerned. “I don’t know, but I doubt it. Since she works for the NSA, she left me with the impression she was taking a leave of absence to help us.”

  “Marconi?” Even as she asked the question, she was certain it was him. “How did he find me?”

  Justin had gotten out of bed, and he was sliding on his pants. “I don’t know, but I won’t let him hurt you.”

  She tried not to betray any fear or even any doubt about his ability to stop Marconi and who knew how many others, especially since they came in a helicopter. Who knew what else they had brought with them? At the back of her mind, there also lingered worry that Justin wouldn’t be able to handle the exchange of gunfire without succumbing to a panic attack. She hated to think that, even for a moment, but the thought flitted through her mind before she roughly shoved it away.

  Abruptly, Julia got out of bed with the same haste Justin was already displaying. She dressed as quickly as possible and didn’t refuse when he passed her the handgun he had taught her how to shoot yesterday.

  He put his arm around her waist before they left the room, giving her a half-squeeze as he pulled her close. His voice was already pitched low, though there was no way Marconi could overhear them yet, since the chopper was just now running down, indicating it had landed very recently. “We’re going to the basement. It doubles as a storm shelter, and it’s the most secure place in the house.”

  She nodded to indicate she understood before falling into step right behind him. She wanted to cling to his hand and draw silent comfort, but she couldn’t distract him, and she needed both hands to hold and shoot her pistol. How she’d like to avoid using the weapon, but that seemed unrealistic.

  Her heart was racing in her ears as they tiptoed down the hallway, turning toward the back of the house. She knew where the entrance to the basement was, but she had never been inside. For a moment, the thought of entering a small, dark space temporarily overwhelmed her, though she wasn’t claustrophobic. She realized it was simply panic pressing down on her.

  She reached automatically into her shirt, searching for the flash drive before remembering she hadn’t put on a bra, and she didn’t have it on her anyway. Justin had locked it in the safe in his office, and they had both agreed it would be safe there. Now, she could only hope that was true. If Marconi got the flash drive, he’d have no reason to keep either one of them alive.

  They didn’t make it to the basement before gunfire sprayed the exterior of the house. Simultaneously, the sound of the front door splintering indicated they were in the house as well. They were approaching from the back while someone shot from the other end of the house. She and Justin were roughly in the middle of the home, and panic threatened to overwhelm her.

  That reminded her that Justin might be struggling with the same, and she looked at him with concern. It was dark, but not so dark that she couldn’t make out his features. She was surprised, but pleased, to see he looked confident and focused, as though he had slipped back into soldier-mode with minimal transition. “What do we do?” she whispered.

  He jerked his head back toward the direction of the front door. “I guess we meet them. We don’t want to go near the spray of bullets, which is likely to be contained to that end of the house, since whoever is shooting knows the rest of his group is coming in the other side. They won’t expect us to go their way. They’ll be looking for us to hide.”

  “Maybe we should. It would take them longer to find us, and then we can…deal with them as they come through the doorway or something.” It sounded like a sound plan, other than her inability to voice what deal with meant.

  He shook his head. “We only have one chance at surprising them. Between the two of us, we have two handguns and a rifle. That’s no match for their automatic submachine guns.”

  “In that case, why are we trying to face off with them?”

  “If we can take them by surprise, and there’s an opening, you can slip past them while I keep them occupied.” He fumbled in his pocket for a moment before passing her his phone. “Don’t try to get to my SUV. That’s too obvious, and if they have their helicopter, they can shoot you from the air. Instead, go in to the woods and try to hide the best you can. Call the sheriff, and then call Olivia. She’s in my saved numbers. They both are, and they’ll respond.”

  She shook her head, trying to refuse the phone. “I’m not leaving without you. You don’t stand a chance against them by yourself.”

  He frowned. “Not to be too blunt, but you aren’t exactly an asset either, honey. You’re just learning how to shoot, and you have no training. Let me distract them so you can get away.”

  “No. They’ll kill you, and
I don’t want to lose you.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and she blinked back tears.

  He sounded gruff, but the illumination provided by a nearby window showed his concern mingled with frustration. “This is the best thing we can do. The only thing. When you get an opening, you have to take it. I can’t be worried about you not doing so.”

  Reluctantly, she nodded. She didn’t like the idea of leaving him, and she certainly didn’t like the idea of running into the forest all on her own, especially since she had no inkling about its layout, or how to navigate it. At least that put her on more equal footing with Marconi and his goons, because she doubted any of them had spent much time traipsing around the wilderness. Like her, they were city people.

  She slipped his phone into her pocket and stayed behind him as he strode forward. They had wasted precious seconds arguing, so they met Marconi and his group before she expected, and long before she was ready. When they all converged in the kitchen, she was paralyzed into inaction for a moment. They seemed equally startled, and it gave Justin the opening to take out two of the four. She wasn’t certain if they died, but they certainly dropped heavily, and without any sound.

  The sound of gunfire had broken her paralysis, and now she lifted the handgun Justin had given her, automatically thumbing off the safety. Her hands trembled a little as she pointed it at Marconi, but she tried to hide most of her fear.

  He was glaring at them, and the gun in his hand was more like a small cannon than a pistol. She’d never seen anything like it, and it made her tremble again with renewed fear.

  “Give me the flash drive, and I’ll let you go free.”

  She was smart enough to know he was lying. He didn’t even attempt to make his words sound sincere. Either he was toying with her, or he assumed she was a dumb bimbo who would take his word for anything. She trembled before straightening her shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He snorted before nodding his head at the goon beside him. “Shoot Old MacDonald.”

  Justin’s gun focused more sharply on the one beside Marconi, and the rifle slid smoothly down his shoulder into his other hand. “You’re welcome to try.” Without glancing at Marconi, he added, “And Old MacDonald was a farmer. I’m a rancher.”

  She had the urge to giggle at his retort, but recognized it as hysteria rather than true amusement. She bit down hard on her tongue to stave off the urge, fearing it would deteriorate into mad cackling that would make her lose all focus.

  “We’re at a stalemate,” said Justin. “Take your people and get out before you get killed.”

  Marconi’s hand cannon jumped slightly in his hands, but that was his only exterior sign of having heard Justin. “Shoot him,” he said again to his companion.

  “I can’t, boss. He’ll shoot me or you.”

  “That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” As he said the words, Marconi shoved his goon forward, heading toward Justin. The large man tripped and fell forward, pinning Justin to the floor as the two men fought to gain the upper hand.

  Julia backed away, trying to give Justin room to maneuver while avoiding Marconi. Hesitantly, she took another step back as the fat mobster stepped forward. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “Don’t feed me that. I know Shanae gave you the flash drive, and I know you opened it. There was a program on it that allows me to track the IP address of any computer that opens it. You and the rancher boy here looked at it last night. You had it open for at least fifteen minutes, so I know you read the files. Give me the flash drive.”

  “I don’t have it. He gave it to a friend in the NSA.”

  Marconi scowled at her, and she must have been more convincing than she had imagined. He let out a string of swear words before his expression changed with reptilian speed. “Then he’ll just have to get it back and trade it for you.”

  She glanced down at Justin, who seemed to be gaining the upper hand. “I’m not going with you. It’s just you and me, and we both have a gun.” Though when compared to his, hers was more along the lines of a water pistol, while his was howitzer.

  He laughed at her, clearly amused. “You don’t have the balls to shoot me.”

  Her finger curved instinctively on the trigger, and she pressed it before she could allow her mind to talk herself out of it. The shot jerked her wrist and sent reverberations up her arm, since she hadn’t properly braced the pistol before firing. Unfortunately, her shot was off as well, and the bullet went wide, lodging in the wall near Marconi’s shoulder instead of hitting the mobster. At least it got his attention, and any sign of amusement fled.

  She backed away as he stomped after her, knowing she was putting too much distance between herself and Justin, but unable to quell the urge to flee. She only stopped when she ran into a physical barrier that kept her from moving forward. A small circle of hot steel pressed against her spine, and she jumped forward at the contact. Pain flared in her skin, and she turned to see what she had encountered, finding two more of Marconi’s goons behind her, both armed with what she assumed were submachine guns. She had backed directly into one of them.

  Marconi’s arm came around her neck a moment later, and his gun pressed against her temple, rendering her still. After a moment, she jerked and tried to free herself, but his arm was like steel around her, keeping her pinned to his flabby bulk. His arm was tightening around her neck, and she dropped her gun without thought as she brought both hands up in an attempt to drag the crushing weight off her trachea. Everything around her was growing dim, except for spots of light behind her eyes, and the more she struggled, the faster it seemed to creep around her. His hold was absolute, and she couldn’t break free. She wasn’t certain if it was panic or lack of oxygen that robbed her of consciousness.

  Justin was a good-sized person with a solid frame, but the hulking behemoth pinning him down, keeping him from firing his gun, made him feel a bit like a small child in comparison. Where had Marconi found such a beast of a man? He struggled and grunted, trying to bring up his gun. At least they were pressed close enough together that the goon couldn’t get off a shot of his own either.

  Unfortunately, he was far stronger, with his steroid-honed muscles, and Justin was certain in a hand-to-hand fight, the other one would outlast him. He couldn’t allow it to get to that point, where he was too exhausted to continue fighting, let alone rescue Julia. He lunged forward, using his teeth to rip a chunk out of the other man’s cheek. The goon howled in shock and obvious pain as he jerked back on instinct, trying to avoid Justin’s teeth. He didn’t allow himself to be distracted by the taste of blood as he brought up his gun and fired it between the two of them, the muzzle level with the other man’s heart.

  Almost immediately, the goon slumped atop him, completely dead weight. His ears were ringing from the close-quarters shot, and he felt a moment of dizziness. It was even trickier to extricate himself from the position, and he had to slither back while heaving with all his strength to lift the goon enough to allow him to escape.

  He gained his feet in time to hear the helicopter taking off, and he cursed as he gripped the rifle and stumbled outside. It was already a silhouette against the rapidly lightening early morning sky, and he cursed again as he watched it fly away, helpless to stop it.

  He reached into his pocket for his phone before remembering he’d left it with Julia. That made him curse again, but he did so as he moved, returning to the house to search the goon he’d left slumped in the hallway. There were two other bodies in the kitchen, and surely one of the three had a cell phone.

  He searched the closest one, quickly finding an iPhone with a locked screen. He didn’t throw the phone, but he set it aside, not wanting to take time to try to decode someone else’s PIN. The next goon had an unlocked Samsung, and he put in Olivia’s number by memory. He spoke as soon as she answered. “Marconi was here, and he took Julia.”

  His friend paused only a moment before reacting. “I’m on my way. We’ll get her back,
Justin.”

  He nodded, suddenly losing the last shreds of adrenaline. After hanging up, he slumped to the floor and leaned back with his head against the wall. His heart was racing in his ears, and he recognized the signs of an approaching panic attack. His hand trembled as he reached into his pocket before realizing he hadn’t grabbed his bottle of medicine in the haste to leave the bedroom and get Julia to safety.

  He forced himself to stand up, trying to ignore the sensation that he couldn’t breathe. Even knowing it was purely psychosomatic didn’t keep it from being frightening. Sweat beaded his brow as he slowly inched his way down the hall, using the wall for support to keep himself upright as he moved past the third goon he had killed, stepping gingerly over the spreading pool of blood marring the blond wood floor.

  He was shaky and on the verge of completely losing it by the time he made it to the bedroom. He collapsed onto the mattress and stretched across to fish out the bottle of pills. He popped one in his mouth and immediately felt better, though nowhere near under control. The beta blocker hadn’t had time to even begin to work, so he recognized it as a psychological comfort rather than providing true relief. Whatever was responsible for the reaction, it allowed him to regain a small measure of focus within a few minutes.

  He was still sitting on the bed, breathing deeply, when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Justin gripped his pistol, having lost the rifle somewhere along the way as he shuffled to his room for the beta blocker. He brought up the gun as the light came on, temporarily blinding him in its unexpectedness. He blinked a few times, and then he could make out who was approaching.

  For a moment, he was tempted to keep his gun leveled at the sheriff, but he recognized the folly in that action. Carefully, Justin put it on the bed beside him as he waited for Finch to approach. “I didn’t do anything to Julia. She’s been taken by the mobster she was hiding from. You can either help me, or you can give me crap and delay getting her back.”