Bodyguard's Baby Surprise

by Lisa Childs

  She was probably concerned about everyone else, as well. She couldn’t know that they had all survived the gunfight. Everyone was okay.

  But her...

  Panic pressed on his lungs, stealing his breath away as his heart raced. “Answer the damn phone!” he yelled.

  Nikki jumped; his outburst had startled her. The others were too shell-shocked to react. If they hadn’t been wearing vests...

  The shots that had hit them would have killed them. The vests had stopped the bullets but not the impact. Ribs were bruised or broken. But no one had sought medical treatment.

  Gage paced the storage unit. “You shouldn’t have made us stand down,” he said. “You shouldn’t have.”

  “He had his gun pressed to her head,” Nick said, his heart aching as he remembered the fear on her face. “He would have killed her.” And the damn vest he’d put on her wouldn’t have saved her.

  Nothing would have.

  Maybe nothing had.

  He could see the thought on the faces of the others. They thought she was dead. Even Gage...

  “She never gave up hope on you,” he told him. “Everybody else thought you were dead, but Annalise wouldn’t consider it. She knew you were too damn stubborn to give up.”

  Gage released a shaky breath. “And I’ve got nothing on her. She’s a helluva lot more stubborn than I am.”

  Or she would have given up on Nick years ago. He saw that on Gage’s face, too. She hadn’t given up on him, and he wouldn’t give up on her. He hit redial.

  And finally someone picked up the call. “Special Agent Rus,” Darren Snow greeted him.

  “No,” Nick replied. “I’m not an FBI agent anymore. I’m a bodyguard.” But he had failed to protect the person who mattered most to him.

  The Iceman chuckled. “So you haven’t brought that gun to the FBI evidence locker yet?”

  “I haven’t,” Nick said. “And I won’t. I’m bringing it to you—in exchange for Annalise. Just like we agreed.”

  “I had heard you’re a man of your word,” the Iceman replied.

  “What about you?” Nick asked. “Are you a man of your word?” He’d read those trial transcripts. Darren Snow was no Viktor Chekov. While Chekov was a killer, he lived by a certain code. The Iceman had no code—no moral compass whatsoever.

  “I was beginning to think that you’d turned on me, Nicholas,” Darren said, “just like your whore of a mother did.”

  “I’m nothing like my mother,” Nick said. At least, he wasn’t like the one who’d given birth to him. He’d rather be like Penny Payne—the woman who wanted to assume the role of his mother.

  “I’ve heard that,” Darren said. “I’ve heard you’re all about law and order. It’s hard for me to believe that you’d turn over evidence to me.”

  “We made a deal,” Nick said—although he hadn’t been given much choice in the matter, not with that gun barrel pressed against Annalise’s head. “I’m holding up my end of it. Are you going to hold up yours?”

  The Iceman chuckled again. But Nick didn’t know what had amused him. His uneasiness grew.

  “I want to talk to her.” Nick hadn’t given up, and yet he needed to be certain that she was all right. He needed to hear her voice.

  The Iceman’s silence unnerved him and the others. They all glanced at each other, as if wondering...

  Worrying. That Nick had taken too long, that he’d called too late.

  “Nick?” Annalise’s voice emanated from the speaker on his phone and echoed hollowly throughout the storage unit in which they all stood.

  He uttered a ragged sigh, and the pressure on his heart eased. She was alive. “Annalise, are you all right? Has he hurt you?”

  “You heard her,” the Iceman said. “She’s alive. For now. But she and your kid she’s carrying don’t have much longer if I don’t get that gun in my hands.”

  “Where do you want to meet?” Nick asked.

  “You’re not going to try to lay a trap for me, Nicholas?” the Iceman asked.

  “Of course not.” He would take no chances with Annalise’s life.

  “We’ll meet out in the open, Nicholas, so I can be certain that you’ve come alone.” And he named a park not far from the storage facility. “Near the basketball courts.”

  Logan was shaking his head, but Nick ignored him. “Agreed. But you won’t see me or the gun until I see Annalise. Alive.”

  The Iceman chuckled again—like he had a secret joke. Before he clicked off the phone, Nick heard Annalise shouting out a warning, “Don’t trust him, Nick!”

  Gage cursed. He had probably guessed what her outburst would cost Annalise. Pain.

  The Iceman would hurt her. But he wouldn’t kill her. He wanted the gun.

  “You need to listen to her,” Logan said. “You can’t trust him. You can’t go alone, and you can’t bring that gun with you.”

  Nick shook his head. “I’m going to do exactly what he says.”

  “That’s evidence, Nick,” Logan reminded him. “You can’t turn it over to a criminal. You know better.”

  Nick shrugged. He knew the law, probably better than anyone else present. But for the first time in his life, the law didn’t matter to him. He didn’t care about right or wrong. He cared only about Annalise.

  “We could switch the gun,” Logan suggested. “Get one that looks like it.”

  “There’s no time,” Nick said. “And he would know.”

  “It’s been over thirty years since he saw it last,” Logan argued.

  “He would know,” Nick said because of his face. If the Iceman was going to believe Nick had brought the real gun, he’d need to see the struggle on his face, the guilt he’d feel for handing over evidence. While he’d feel some guilt, it wasn’t the moral struggle he’d thought it might be. It was no struggle at all.

  It didn’t matter what the law said was right or wrong. All that mattered was Annalise.

  * * *

  Had Nick heard her? Had he heeded her warning? Annalise’s heart pounded quickly and frantically. She knew Darren Snow had no intention of letting her or Nick live. He’d called up the men he’d hired, the ones who’d survived the gun battle at the storage unit.

  There had been fatalities. She hoped only on the Iceman’s side. Her brother had to have survived. He was tough—tough enough to make it through whatever hell he’d endured in Afghanistan. It would take more than a bullet to end his life.

  She hoped the same for Nick. Because the Iceman had set up the park. He had shooters positioned on rooftops—ready to take head shots once the gun had exchanged hands. If Nick showed up at the park, he wouldn’t leave alive.

  And neither would she.

  “I’m sorry,” Darren told her. But his apology lacked sincerity. “You seem like a sweet girl. But I can’t risk going back to prison.”

  She nodded as if she commiserated with him. But she could never understand a human taking another human’s life, unless it was in self-defense or defense of someone else.

  “You really should have rented the place to me furnished,” he said. “Then we could have avoided all of this nasty business.”

  “It is my fault,” she agreed. And there was no way she could remedy it now. Nick had been right to push her away all these years. If she hadn’t been so stubborn...

  If she’d given up on him years ago, he wouldn’t be in danger now. And neither would she.

  The rain continued to fall, beating down on the roof of the stolen SUV—flooding the parking lot near the basketball court. No one played on the courts. Thanks to the rain and the encroaching darkness, it was deserted.

  But for the man who stood with his back against one of the buildings near the court. Even through the rain, she could tell it was Nick. His black hair was wet and slicke
d to his head, but his eyes shone brightly in his handsome face.

  The Iceman wasn’t as certain, though. He peered at him. “Is it him or one of those bodyguards...?”

  The driver shrugged. “Looks like him. And you told him to come alone.”

  The Paynes wouldn’t have allowed that, though. Would they? The family stuck together, protected each other. They had to be out there, ready to protect Nick. But she peered around and could see no one else.

  From inside the SUV, she couldn’t see the men Darren Snow had positioned on the rooftops, either. She didn’t doubt they were there. He’d offered to pay them well.

  Would Nick see them? He wasn’t looking up. He was staring instead at the SUV.

  “There’s no one else around,” the driver said. “It has to be him.”

  The Iceman hesitated yet, looking uncertain.

  “It is,” she said. “It’s Nick.” She’d loved him too long to mistake him for anyone else.

  The Iceman released a breath. He believed her. Finally he opened the back door and pulled her across the seat and out the door with him. She stepped into a puddle, the water rushing over her shoe to soak her foot. Within seconds, her clothes were soaked, too, down to her skin.

  The Iceman had taken the bulletproof vest from her. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d worn it, though, not when he’d ordered his snipers to take head shots. He wore it himself under his coat.

  He didn’t expect Nick to honor their deal any more than he intended to honor it. But he didn’t know Nick.

  He didn’t know that he was a man of his word.

  He gestured for Nick to come forward. Nick stepped away from the wall and crossed the basketball court. And Annalise held her breath.

  They weren’t supposed to shoot yet, though. Not until Nick handed over the gun.

  Wait for my signal, the Iceman had told them. Once I know it’s my gun, I’ll raise my hand. That’s when you open fire.

  “Don’t give it to him!” she shouted at Nick. “He’s going to kill us.”

  Nick didn’t react. He wasn’t surprised by her warning. He’d known. But he’d come alone, anyway.

  For her? Or for their baby?

  Where was everyone else?

  It was just the two of them—against a killer.

  The Iceman jerked her arm behind her back until she cried out at the pain. “Stop it!” he told her. “Or you won’t die quickly. You’ll just die painfully.” In his other hand he held a gun, pressed against her face.

  “Let her go,” Nick said as he rushed forward. “She has nothing to do with this!”

  The Iceman chuckled. “She has everything to do with it, Nicholas. You wouldn’t have brought the gun if I hadn’t taken her.” He used the barrel to gesture at Nick. “Did you bring it?”

  “Of course.”

  The Iceman’s pale eyes narrowed skeptically. “I find it hard to believe that a man of your high moral values would have compromised his principles like this.”

  Nick held up a velvet bag—one in which a fifth of whiskey usually came. His mother had liked to drink, too. “It’s in here.” He tossed it over.

  But with the Iceman’s grip on her and his gun, he couldn’t grab it before it hit the ground. He let her go so abruptly that she fell to the wet pavement.

  Gunfire erupted. And Nick lunged toward her, as if to cover her body with his. But before he reached her, a bullet struck him. She didn’t know if it came from above or from Darren Snow.

  His gun was pointed at Nick. Nick kept coming.

  He fired again.

  Annalise screamed and, desperate to help, she grabbed up the bag. Knowing Nick, it could have been a decoy, a fake weapon. But she pulled out a real gun, the metal heavy and cold. It probably wasn’t loaded.

  Snow had forgotten about her lying on the ground. His focus was on Nick now. He stepped forward and pointed his gun at Nick, who was sprawled on the ground, rain falling on his face. His eyes were closed.

  Was he already dead?

  Darren must have wanted to make certain, because he cocked his gun and lowered the barrel close to Nick’s head. Annalise lurched to her feet and squeezed the trigger of the gun she held—the gun that had already been used to kill.

  Her wrist snapped at the recoil, and the weapon fell from her suddenly weak grasp. Pain radiated up her arm.

  Darren Snow spun toward her, his eyes open with surprise. Then he dropped to his knees on the pavement and fell forward. She screamed as she saw the wound in the back of his head. Had she done that?

  Had she killed a man?

  She didn’t care at the moment. All she cared about was Nick. She dropped to the ground next to him. “Are you all right? Nick?”

  But his eyes—his beautiful eyes, usually so bright—remained closed. She’d killed a man to save him. But she might have been too late.

  * * *

  She had known, as Penny always did, that her children were in danger. This time it had been all of them. Panic constricted her heart, squeezing it painfully. She didn’t know how she’d managed the drive to Chicago or how she’d found the hospital where they were.

  But she’d managed somehow to get to them. Was she too late, though? Had she lost one of them?

  She hurried to the waiting room.

  “Mom,” Logan gasped as she walked in. Instead of protesting her being there, he hugged her tightly. As if he was a little boy who needed comfort.

  Since his father had died, he’d been the one who’d given the comfort—even to her. Tears stung her eyes. It was bad. Even worse than she’d feared...

  “Who is it?” she asked. Who had she lost?

  She pulled free of Logan’s embrace and peered around the crowded room. Other people might have been there, but she saw only her family.

  Milek and Garek Kozminski stood close together, almost as if they were holding each other up. “Are you all right?” she asked them.

  Milek nodded.

  “Gonna take more than an SUV to wipe us out,” Garek assured her as he pulled her into a hug.

  But as she hugged him back, he flinched. He’d been hurt.

  They all looked the worse for wear. Gage Huxton had blood smeared on the side of his face, but she wasn’t certain if it was his. He would have done anything to protect his sister. Just like her boys would have Nikki.

  Nikki—dear sweet Nikki—had already been bruised and stitched. But she wore those wounds like badges of honor. Stubborn girl.

  A smile tugged at Penny’s lips. She loved her baby girl so much. And she worried about her nearly as much as she worried about Nick.

  “Nick?” she gasped his name as she realized who wasn’t present. “Where’s Nick?”

  “Surgery...” The voice came from behind the others. They stepped aside to let Penny through to the chair where a frail-looking Annalise sat. “They took him back right away...”

  They must have been at the hospital a while—long enough for Penny to make the nearly three-hour drive. But Annalise’s clothes still looked damp from the rain. Or perhaps it was from the blood that stained them.

  Penny dropped to her knees in front of her chair. “Are you okay? Has someone checked you out?” She glanced around at the others. Hadn’t anyone helped her?

  “She refused,” Gage said. And from his tone, it was obvious that he’d given up arguing with his sister.

  Penny touched the young woman’s hands where they covered her belly. Her skin was as cold as ice. “You need to let someone look at you,” she said. “You need to make sure your baby is all right.”

  Her green eyes brimming with tears, Annalise shook her head.

  And panic gripped Penny. Had she lost the child? Was that why she had blood on her clothes?

  “Get help,” Penny yelled at the other
s. “She needs a doctor.” Penny worried that it was already too late for the baby.

  What about Nick? He’d been in surgery such a long time. Was it too late for him, too?

  Chapter 26

  Nick fought his way to consciousness. He’d been out too long. He knew it. Something bad had happened. He could feel it in the heaviness of his heart, which beat slowly with dread. The last thing he remembered was lunging toward Annalise, but he hadn’t reached her before the shot had taken him down.

  Had she been hit?

  Was she safe?

  “Annalise!” He jerked awake with her name on his lips.

  “Are you okay?” a soft voice asked.

  He struggled to keep his eyes open—to focus on the face above his. Penny Payne stared down at him, her brown eyes warm with concern.

  His throat was dry, and he tried to swallow, tried to clear it. But his voice sounded gruff when he said again, “Annalise...”

  Penny took his hand in hers. Was she offering comfort? Or was she the one who needed it?

  He squeezed her hand and urged her, “Tell me. Was she shot?”

  Penny shook her head. “No. She wasn’t shot. But you were.”

  He remembered the flash of pain he’d felt. He didn’t feel it now. His body was actually numb. It was his mind that was reeling. And his heart—it hurt, too.

  “The surgeon is worried because the bullet was close to the spine,” she said, “too close.”

  Nick tensed, his muscles tightening.

  She spoke softly and gently as she must have to her kids when they’d had nightmares or missed their dad. “He’s concerned that you could have some paralysis.”

  Nick squeezed her hand again, and then he kicked at the sheet covering him. “I’m not paralyzed,” he said.

  Not anymore.

  He’d been paralyzed most of his life—afraid to let himself feel love. But not anymore.

  “I’m getting out of this bed,” he said, “and I’m going to find Annalise.”