by Tl Mayhew
“Wait!”
“Hey, get back here!”
“Stop him.”
Even if they did catch me, it would take more than the officers here to keep me from her. I take the stairs two at a time and pull out my gun as I reach her door.
I try the handle, but it’s locked.
A scream shrills through the air.
I step back and with all my force, bust open the door. With my gun drawn, I make my way around the corner and find Dr. Ackerman kneeling next to Lacy. His thumb is on the plunger of a syringe in her arm.
When she meets my gaze, her teary eyes are wide and full of fear.
All I see is red, and I don’t hesitate.
I shoot.
He drops to the floor, and I drop the gun, rushing over to Lacy.
She’s gagged, covered in blood, and pale. I pull the fabric from her mouth, taking in the dazed and unfocused look in her eyes. I’ve seen that look before. She’s teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.
“I’m here. Stay with me, Lacy.” My tone is even, though my pulse rages with anger and fear…fear of losing her.
A whimper escapes her lips as I gently place her in my arms. I press my lips to her forehead, and murmur, “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you now.”
She releases a subtle breath and closes her eyes as I carry her to the elevator.
I pass Martin in the hall without slowing my stride. “I didn’t check, but I believe he’s dead.” He nods, and I add, “Her sister is still in there. Take care of her.”
“Will do. And the gun?”
“On the floor,” I shout over my shoulder.
Chapter 28
Martin
When I enter the room, I pick up the gun and wipe it clean, then begin assessing the scene, starting with Dr. Ackerman. He was shot directly in the head. I check for a pulse, but find none.
A sniffle pulls my attention. When I look up, my eyes meet the most beautiful brilliant blue I’ve ever seen.
I move to take a seat next to her on the couch. “Are you okay?”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything. Her gaze moves to the doctor, and then the syringe next to him.
I leave it for the local cops to deal with, then turn my attention to helping the young woman to the elevator. “I’m Martin,” I say, holding her up for support.
Our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirrored doors, and when the elevator begins to descend, her soft voice is barely a whisper. “I’m Tracy.”
I give her a small smile, but our connection is lost when the doors open.
We make our way outside, and the EMTs rush over to collect her. They give her a quick once-over in the back of an ambulance then the doors are slammed shut, and I’m left standing there alone as I watch it drive away.
Chapter 29
Clayton
One month later
She’s lying on her stomach in my bed, undressed from the waist down, and I smooth my hands up the backs of her thighs, taking note that her cuts are healing nicely. There were only two that needed stitches: one on her hand, and the other just below the curve of her ass.
I sit back on my heels, admiring her long legs and round cheeks, my arousal impossible to hide in the workout shorts I have on. With the location of her wound, we’ve had to find creative ways to make love. The one and only time we tore open her stitches was when she first got to New York.
After what we had been through, there was no way we could contain the passion and raw emotion that poured from our very depths. The spark we felt when we first met was nothing compared to what we experienced with a single touch of our lips after the incident in Savannah.
“You know, that cream isn’t going to apply itself,” she says, smiling and looking over her shoulder.
I place a kiss on her uninjured cheek. “Yes, dear.” I lift the edge of the bandage, and add, “This will be fully healed in another week or so.”
“Yeah, and…?”
“Well, let’s just say, I’m looking forward to not being so careful.” Her head drops to the bed with a groan, then she quickly sucks in a breath as the bandage pulls at her skin.
Once her wound is covered, I position myself next to her, tuck the loose hairs behind her ear, and stare deep into her emerald eyes. “You don’t know how much your being here means to me. When I think back to the first day I met you, I now know it was fate.” Closing my eyes, I let out a small laugh in disbelief. “I will tell you, I didn’t believe in that crap before. Fate was just some excuse a guy gave a girl to get in her pants...” I pause for a moment and think of how good I’ve slept over the past few weeks. “However, the fact that I haven’t had any nightmares since you’ve been here…well, that makes me a believer. It’s something I won’t take for granted.” I move my hand to her chin and bring her face closer. “I never would have expected you’d give up your job in Savannah and move to New York with me, instead of back to Colorado with your sister.”
I slide my knuckles over her cheek as tears well in her eyes.
I’m close to losing control over my own emotions when I place my hand at the back of her head and barely manage to get out, “Lacy, I love you,” before my lips crash down on hers.
Chapter 30
Lacy
While I melt at his words and the firm lips covering mine, I try to understand how it’s possible that a man this beautiful is in love with me. It’s hard to fathom how lucky I am to have Clayton Andrews in my life.
I relish in that thought as he pulls me in his arms and rolls to his back so I’m on top of him. He gives me a tight squeeze, then drops his head to the pillow. “I realize we haven’t known each other all that long, so I’m giving you a chance to ask questions. Just know your time is limited. I’m rock-hard and don’t plan on lying in bed with you half naked talking about my feelings.”
My eyebrows arch as my lips turn up in a mischievous smile. “Well…to start, your dick will just have to wait.”
His reply is a quick thrust of his hips, which makes it difficult to remember anything I was going to say. If that’s the way he wants it, I can play too. I rock my hips and make sure to rub all the right places.
His firm grip on my hips stops my movement immediately. “Not recommended.”
Giggling, I place my hands on his chest and chin on my hands while I search unique hazel eyes. The light shade changes from the calming green, ever-present with his playful side to the rich caramel dominating his desire. The change in color is so mesmerizing, I find it difficult to speak, yet can’t look away. “So, you said you’re no longer with CBI and your job is now in New York…what exactly is your job?”
“My job is bodyguard and driver to Miss Alexandria Collins.”
I lift myself up on my forearms, my mouth agape. “Like, as in, daughter of Mrs. Fitzgerald?” Then my mouth turns down in sadness.
He shrugs then nods before asking, “What is it? Are you hurting?” His tone laced with concern.
“No, I was just thinking how sad it is, what happened to Mrs. Fitzgerald. I would walk past her room, and even stop in on occasion, just to see how she was doing. I knew who she was, and I was hopeful she would recover but then I’d heard she was gone and…” My voice trails off.
When I look at him again, his face has softened. “I’m sure Mrs. Fitzgerald will be happy to know you were concerned for her wellbeing.”
I must look confused because he grabs my face with his hands, his eyes meeting mine.
“She’s fine now. That’s the reason I was in Savannah. I was helping to get her out of that damn place.”
“She’s okay? Are you sure?” My excitement sends chills over my skin.
His smile is sexy as hell. “She is, and yes, I’m sure. Maybe I will take you to see her one day soon. I have connections, you know.”
“Seriously? That would be amazing! I would love to see her.”
“Any more questions? If not, I have something that needs to be attended to,” he says with another hip thrust.
> “One more,” I say, and he drops his head to the bed in frustration.
Gone is the playfulness in his voice. “Last question.”
I don’t say anything right away. Instead, I’m back to searching the rich caramel of his eyes, looking for a hint of how he’ll react to my next question. I don’t find what I’m looking for, but decide to ask anyway. “Clayton, you are my knight, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere other than right here in your arms. I love you too.”
He smiles and raises up to kiss me, but I hold my finger over his lips. “I’m not done.” I pause to gather my thoughts, then begin again. “Clayton Andrews, as I lay here on top of you, in nothing but a tank top and stitches in my ass…” he grins at that, “will you marry me?”
His face goes blank as the shock of my question resonates.
He’s taking a lot longer than expected to answer, and I soon begin to doubt myself for asking. Just as I’m about to tell him I’m kidding, he wraps me in his arms, picks me up off the bed, and swings me around.
When he stops, he looks into my eyes, and says, “Abso-fucking-lutely!”
This…right here, right now—this is where I belong, in Clayton’s arms for the rest of my life.
THE END.