BlackJack (A Standish Bay Romance Book 1)

by Donovan, Christine

  “Dr. Splaine said you can’t leave your bed yet,” Shannon said with a deep sigh.

  “The hell with that,” John interrupted. “Jackson, grab the IV bag. Shannon carefully take his leg out of that contraption. We’ll wheel his bed down the hall. My son wants to see his girl.”

  Cole stood off to the side and watched the tearful reunion between the two young people with a lump in his throat. Before they took Cameron back to his room, promises were made to get the two of them together once they were all back home and recovered.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I can’t take it anymore,” Shannon said as she stared at the snow falling fast and steady outside her home in Standish Bay. “When will it end?”

  “I don’t know,” Cole answered, clearly as frustrated as she was.

  Perhaps we need to meet with the head of the security company and plan a sting operation with me as bait.”

  “No way.”

  “If we don’t do something, it may never end. I don’t know about you, but I can’t go on living like this. Tip-toeing around, looking over my shoulder and expecting Cameron to be killed every time he leaves the house,” she sobbed. “I can’t do it anymore.”

  Cole grabbed her and engulfed her in his strong arms, rubbing his hands up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “Shhh. I know it’s wearing on you. You’ve been so strong. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

  “Please call John and security. Perhaps they can have someone pretend to be me and Cameron to draw the killer out?”

  “Good idea. I’ll see if they can get here this afternoon, weather permitting.”

  Shannon paced her great room early that evening as she listened to Cole, John and a Mr. Nash, who headed up her security detail, discuss plans for a sting operation.

  “Ms. Gallagher,” said Mr. Nash. “We will sneak you and your son out of the house and to a safe location and replace you with two of our best officers. With any luck, this will be over in a day or two. We’ll make it look as though you’ve cancelled your bodyguards, which will open the doors for the culprit to make his move. Any questions?”

  “No. Just end this. I want to get on with my life.” She took a seat beside Cole and placed her hand on his thigh. “Our life.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  ***

  Cole checked and rechecked the gun John had given him to protect Shannon and Cameron with, if need be. Just holding it in his hands had them shaking. Could he honestly pull the trigger and take another person’s life? He hoped to God he never had to find out. John risked a lot, probably his career, by providing him with the weapon, but sometimes desperate times called for breaking the law. Not to mention he could go to jail for carrying a gun without a license. Small price to pay if he saved the people he loved with it. Technically, he was still an ex-con on parole and not able to get a gun permit, but once again semantics aside, it was worth the risk.

  Shannon and Cameron played cards in the hotel room while he tried, unsuccessfully to remain calm. They’d been here for two days already and the walls were closing in on him. John, along with the lone bodyguard posted outside their door, kept them informed on what was happening at Shannon’s house. Too bad there wasn’t much to report.

  At eleven-thirty, Shannon and Cameron slept soundly in the bedroom while he paced in the adjourning living room, barefooted and trying to be quiet when his stomach growled. Sure, why couldn’t he have been hungry when dinner had come at seven? He flipped through the hotel’s room service menu and was surprised he could order until midnight. Ordering up a cheeseburger and fries, he flipped on the TV to the Late Show and muted the sound as he ticked off the minutes until he heard the knock on the door and the words from the guard, “Your food is here, Mr. Jackson.”

  Cole opened the door and stepped aside while the security guard wheeled the dinner cart into the room. Just as Cole was about the grab the metal cover off the plate a loud crack reverberated in the room, lights flashed in his eyes and his head exploded as he crumpled to the ground, darkness swallowing him up.

  “That was easy, good job,” Kyle Ward said as he entered the room and shook the hands of the guard. “Thanks for your help.”

  “No problem. The extra money’s come in handy, and I owe my boss nothing.”

  “Did you have your food delivered as well?” Ward asked as he handed the guard some sleeping pills.

  “You bet.”

  “Eat most of it. Take two pills, open the other one and sprinkle it on the food that’s left. That will insure you’re not accused.”

  Ward closed the door behind the guard, pulled Cole’s body up against the wall and entered the bedroom, grinning at the two sleeping people. “It may have taken longer than I planned, but I’m gonna enjoy this,” he muttered to himself.

  Killing Lindsey had not been planned. She’d pulled a knife on him when he wouldn’t take no for an answer. For some reason, she’d wanted to break it off with him and go back to her fucking asshole of a husband. He’d shown her, hadn’t he? And when Cole had been convicted of the murder, he’d laughed his ass off. My, how the mighty had fallen.

  Now he would get to enact his revenge against Cole once again. He walked across the room and placed the barrel of a gun against Shannon’s temple, waking her up. “Shhh, don’t say a word or I’ll shoot your precious son.”

  ***

  The second something cold and hard rested on her temple, she’d opened her eyes to find a middle aged man leaning over her with hatred in his dark, almost black eyes. She swallowed the lump in her throat and fought the panic threatening to take over her body and mind. Who was she kidding, she was in total panic mode. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest, her body trembled violently as she stared, wide eyed, at the man she knew had come to kill her and Cameron. Oh my God, where was Cole? Had he already been killed?

  Tears slid down her cheeks onto the pillow as her mind screamed do something.

  “No, no, no.” The man pressed the gun deeper into her temple, causing her to wince. “Don’t even think about it. And in case you’re wondering, your lover is very much alive, for now.”

  “Why?” she whispered.

  “Why?” he repeated. “Because I hate the mother-fucker. Now get up and don’t do anything stupid.”

  Fighting down the bile rising up her throat, Shannon sat up slowly, afraid if she went too fast he might shoot Cameron.

  “Move into the other room.”

  Her knees almost gave way when her eyes found Cole, slumped against the wall with blood dripping down the side of his face. “Please God, let Cole and Cameron live,” she prayed internally to herself.

  “Sit down on the desk chair with your arms behind your back.”

  Shannon did what he asked. She knew if she didn’t someone she loved would die. The man made quick work of using zip ties to secure her hands and feet and duct taped her mouth.

  He swung the chair around, caressed his hand down her cheek and cupped her breast, causing her to cringe in revulsion.

  “Too bad I don’t have time to sample you. What I wouldn’t give to take you and make Jackson watch. But alas it’s your lucky day, as I’ve a plane to catch.”

  He exited the room and Shannon watched in horror as he came back with her son. The barrel of the gun now against his temple. Cameron’s eyes were full of fear as the man restrained him as he’d done her, only on the sofa.

  “Now what to do?” the man said as he strolled over to stand in front of Cole. “Do I wait until he wakes and make him watch as I kill you both, or should I make you watch as I kill him? Decisions, decisions?” the man’s deranged laughter reverberated throughout the room.

  He kicked Cole’s feet and slapped him across the face, sending his head and body reeling to the floor. “Wake up Jackson, time to pay the piper.”

  She heard Cole moaning, then he pushed himself up, using the wall for support. “What the fuck are you doing here Ward?”

  “Come now Jackson, you’re not that stup
id?”

  “What happened with AJ?” Cole asked as he wiped the blood out of his eye with his hand.

  “Power of suggestion is well—a powerful thing.” Ward shrugged. “Add some drugs and you convince a man he killed someone. Put suicide in a wounded soul’s brain, and you get them to commit it.”

  “You bastard,” Cole yelled.

  What happened next happened so fast Shannon’s eyes could hardly keep up. Cole moved at lightning speed. He swung his leg out tripping Ward, causing him to fall back. The gun discharged and Shannon screamed against the tape as blood pooled on Cole’s shoulder. They fought on the ground each grappling for control of the gun. Where was the gun John gave Cole?” Shannon wondered as she and Cameron both struggled with their bonds. Her wrists burned as the zip tie cut into them. It was no use. She’d never get free.

  The struggle continued. Ward managed to get control of the gun but lost it when Cole punched him in the face and it skittered across the room. People were pounding on the door. But Ward had flipped the dead bolts, keeping everyone out.

  Would it never end? She struggled to kick the rug and move the chair on wheels toward the two men. Her heart pounded because it was working. She had no idea what she’d do when she got close to them, but she intended to do something to aid Cole. As she made headway, she watched as Ward raised up his arm, holding a deadly looking switch blade. Once again, her scream was strangled in the tape, and she stared in horror as he tried to stab Cole in the neck. Cole deflected it with his arm, which now bled profusely.

  She swallowed the bile crawling up her throat, she couldn’t throw up or she’d drown in her own vomit. “Please God, she prayed, please help Cole.”

  Determined to get closer, she scooted the chair and when she was in kicking distance of Ward, she gave it her all and swung her legs out, hoping to connect with his knees and take him down. Unfortunately he saw her coming and his hand snaked out to grab her feet, but it gave Cole the chance he needed. He rolled across the floor, grabbed the gun, aimed at Ward’s leg and pulled the trigger. The man’s screams went on and on.

  Cole stumbled to the door, flipped the lock and fell back as an array of people entered, guns drawn.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Two weeks had gone by since their fight for their lives, and Shannon couldn’t be happier. Snow was falling again and she turned to Cole, who had his arm in a sling, the one that had been shot. His other arm had had forty stitches removed yesterday.

  Cameron’s body had healed nicely since the accident and he now sported a walking boot, so getting around was much easier. This upcoming weekend they had plans to go to Newport and visit with Amber and her father. Cameron was beyond excited. His cast should come off his arm in several more weeks. But all in all, they had much to be thankful for and not a day went by that Shannon didn’t remind herself about that.

  “Come on you two guys, let’s bundle up and head to the beach,” Shannon said. “The snow’s beautiful, and I’ll bet big bucks I can whip your two sorry butts by making the best snowman this town has ever seen.”

  Cole and Cameron glanced at one another and nodded. Cameron grabbed his jacket, carefully pulled the sleeve over his cast, struggled into one boot and put a plastic bag over his walking boot to keep his foot dry. He grabbed hat and gloves and left Shannon and Cole in the dust as he waded through the knee deep snow. After Cole removed his sling, Shannon helped him into his jacket, then they headed down after Cameron and forgot about building snowmen as a snowball fight ensued. Cameron against her and Cole, and poor Cameron didn’t stand a chance as he was pelted continuously with one snowball after another. Shannon was proud of the way Cole managed to make snowballs with two injured arms. Too bad Cameron didn’t have as much luck, his cast hindered him big-time.

  “I’ll get you next time,” Cameron yelled and laughed as he lay on his back, his arms blocking his face as snowball after snowball bombed him.

  Then Shannon turned on Cole and threw half formed snowballs at him and it was music to Shannon’s ears when she heard him laughing. Really laughing and looking happy for the first time in an awfully long time.

  Then Shannon watched with love bursting inside her heart as Cole and Cameron pounded each other with half formed snowballs. They were acting crazy and laughing loudly, making her realize how fortunate she was to have these two in her life.

  Her son, born during her teenage years, unplanned and not at a convenient time, was always wanted and loved. She would never do it differently if she could go back. He was the best thing that ever happened to her.

  The second best thing was Cole Jackson.

  Her body tingled as she watched him. And, regardless of the freezing temperature, she felt warm and tingly all over. Warm from the love she had that overflowed for him and from being loved by him. Loved with the kind of true love that would stand the test of time and never die.

  Epilogue

  Cole Jackson took the stage to accept his Grammy Award for Best Solo Artist. He held the Grammy up in his hand and beamed. “You all know my life is an open book thanks to my talented wife, Shannon, who told it so honestly and emotionally with her words. Thank you my darling for freeing me from my past.

  “I dedicate this to my friend, AJ. I love you man. To Brad and Ted, thanks for everything, and to my incredibly talented stepson, Cameron.” Cole gestured toward Cameron in the audience. “This is as much yours as it is mine. Your magical fingers are in every single song on this album. And one day you will stand in this very spot, and I can’t wait.

  “To my beautiful wife, who is at home with our daughter, I love you with every fiber of my being. Thank you for believing in me and giving me your unconditional love. I wouldn’t be standing up here tonight if it wasn’t for you. To my one week old daughter, Olivia, I love you a thousand fold.” He held up the award and yelled out. “Welcome to this glorious world.”

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Christine Donovan is an International Bestselling Author. She lives on the Southeast Coast of Massachusetts with her husband, four sons and four cats. When she is not writing or reading, she is either painting or gardening. Visit her at www.christinedonovan.org

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  Previous Books by Christine Donovan

  THE RELUCTANT DUKE

  A Seabrook Family Saga, Book I

  Available Now

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  CHAPTER ONE

  London 1816

  “It appears, Your Grace, you have bested me and left me destitute.”

  Thomas Seabrook, the Duke of Wentworth, met the eyes of Mr. Charles Hamilton, known as the New Bedford Whaling Tycoon, and could not shake off the prickling sensation which plagued the back of his neck. The Englishman had amassed his fortune in America during the past twenty years yet looked anything but upset at his loss. And it was a fortune indeed. Thomas could not even begin to contemplate his good luck. Deep down, however, intuition warned him to proceed with caution.

  “Mr. Hamilton, how is it you came to be here today?” Thomas leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled on the table in front of him. He tried his best to appear relaxed and unaffected by the turn of events. “I’ve never had the pleasure of your company before. Nor have I heard rumors of your passion for the gaming tables. I do believe, sir, you were in over you
r head. Because of this, I will take the monies you lost, at least what is on the table. But I must pass on the rest.”

  Gasps came from Thomas’s two friends at the table in a small private room at the back of White’s. Thomas ignored them. How could he, in good conscience, take everything this man had worked for his entire life? True, Thomas’s family was desperate for coin, thanks to the foibles of his late father, but he could not profit to this extent at the expense of another. Besides, he rarely indulged in games of chance. He had seen too many gentlemen of the ton lose everything in the gambling hells––their self-respect, properties, and fortunes lost in the shuffle of a card or the roll of bones.

  Often gambling led to disgrace, scandal, and sometimes worse. He would not be responsible for this particular gentleman’s fall, could not subject this man’s family to what still haunted his on a daily basis.

  Edward Worthington, the Marquess of Amesbury, spoke quietly into his ear. “Wentworth, do you realize what you are passing up? Here is your chance to regain your fortune and make the necessary repairs on your holdings. And bugger all, he might call you out. You have insulted his honor. Have you taken leave of your senses?”

  Myles Fredrickson, the Baron of Norwich and heir to an earldom, added his two pence worth. “Have you forgotten your sisters’ dowries or your brother’s commission?”

  Thomas had not forgotten anything. Bloody hell, how could he? Yet the tingling that had begun on his neck now spread down his spine. He never ignored his intuition and knew that no good could come of it if he ruined this man. Yet how could he, as a gentleman of the ton, ignore honor and integrity by refusing his winnings? And disgrace both Hamilton and himself in the process?

  Hamilton abruptly pushed his chair back, crossed the room, and knocked on the closed door. From the room beyond a servant handed him a large packet, a packet Mr. Hamilton then held out to Thomas. “I’m aghast that you would insult my honor in the presence of these two gentlemen. I insist you accept from me what you are due. I believe, Your Grace—” He dropped the packet on the table, the sound of it resonating around the small room. “These now belong to you.”