by Amy Gamet
No, sorry.
Who is Gene Kelly?
That’s right.
I’ll take Hollywood Misfits for one hundred.
Her arms dropped. “Dad?”
“Orson Wells.”
She sat down in a chair with a thud. Her father had shown her a glimpse, a momentary visit from the man she knew and loved, and for that she was grateful.
She wished she could tell him about Logan, but she could tell her father was already gone back into his shell. She pulled out her cell phone and sent Logan a text.
COME FOR DINNER.
WE NEED TO TALK.
It was high time she face the father of her child and share her news with someone who would care as much as she did. Hopefully he’d be happy, but she was prepared if he was not.
She said goodbye to her father and walked through the grocery store in a distracted haze. What did she want Logan’s reaction to be? She didn’t know for the life of her if this day would end discussing custody agreements or with him sharing her bed.
God, she hoped for the latter.
You were the one who broke it off with him.
If you want Logan in your bed, you’re going to have to apologize.
She showered and washed her hair, choosing to keep it loose and curling around her shoulders, then picked a soft, too-big tunic wide a wide neck, imagining Logan would like the feel of the fabric before he lifted it over her head.
I am a horny monster.
Maybe it was the baby making her feel like this, or maybe it had just been too long since she’d touched him. But gone were her buzzing concerns about his age, and in their place was warm desire that refused to be contained.
She measured out seasonings and sautéd onions for the risotto. She hadn’t made a real home-cooked meal in ages, and it gave her something to do besides worry over Logan’s reaction to her pregnancy or imagine him making love to her. The chicken was roasting in the oven and she was stirring the risotto as it simmered on the stove.
He’s going to be in shock.
Try not to get too upset by his reaction.
Thirty-year-old guys weren’t expecting their girlfriends—or whatever the hell she was to him—to announce they were pregnant. Especially since they’d used protection every time.
Really old, really bad protection.
He’d better not ask her if it was his. She might have to smack him in the face if he did that.
In the two weeks she’d been home from the hospital, she’d had lots of time to consider what kind of mother she would be after spending years focusing only on her career.
When she found out she couldn’t have kids she’d spent so much time villainizing motherhood in her own mind, her own version of sour grapes. Now she was trading in a high-powered job for homemade baby food and dirty diapers?
Hell, my job is already gone.
She stopped stirring the rice, suddenly remembering how she had once longed to be a family court judge, helping kids find good homes. She’d done an about-face when she found out she couldn’t have kids of her own, not wanting to see so many of their sweet faces. She could go back to that now. Do what she’d always wanted to do.
She probably wouldn’t get to be a judge again, but she could still work in the system. Advocate for those kids without a voice.
The doorbell rang and she took a shaking breath in. This was it.
Logan.
God, she’d missed him. She considered launching herself into his arms and swallowing him up.
Relax.
Take it easy.
She moved the risotto off the heat and wiped her hands on her apron. He’d given her the time she needed to think, but she’d also realized just how much she longed to have him next to her when he wasn’t around.
And while she certainly missed the sex, it wasn’t what she missed most. She simply missed him.
She walked to the front door.
He was smart—at least as smart as she was—and funny, and insightful, and sweet…
She pulled it open with a smile on her face, anticipation turning to shock in an instant when she realized her visitor wasn’t Logan at all.
“What are you doing here?”
Anthony Royce took two steps into her brownstone and knocked her out with one punch.
28
Cowboy’s headlights lit up the dirt road as he made he way to the outdoor shooting range just outside downtown Atlanta. He’d been home in bed with Charlotte when Jessa called, concerned because she didn’t know where Jax was and he wasn’t answering his phone.
It was June eleventh, which meant Cowboy immediately knew where to look.
Seven years ago to the day, Jax had started HERO Force with a staff of three: Hawk, Garrison Cole and Cowboy. The night of HERO Force’s first anniversary, Jax and Cowboy shot Cole, dead.
A pothole rocked his old Blazer. It had been dark that night, too—a moonless night that made it difficult to see, though in his memory everything about that night had been hard to interpret.
Back then, Jax had been pretty active in local politics, convinced he needed the approval of the officials to have HERO Force be a success. But that particular night, he hadn’t felt like going to Royce’s campaign fundraiser and had sent Garrison in his place.
Garrison, with his PTSD and drinking problem.
Royce showed up the next day in a rage, saying Garrison had molested his twelve year-old daughter the night before. Cowboy told him to call the police, but Royce refused. “Do you know what they’ll do to her at the police station, and worse, at the trial? Where is Garrison? I’ll handle it myself.”
Cowboy had driven his brand new Blazer to the shooting range with Royce and Jax in tow, right down this same road. Garrison was there trying out some new weapons, or so he’d said.
But when they arrived, Cowboy shined his headlights across the open field, and there—sitting in the grass in the middle of the range—was Garrison.
“Took you long enough,” he’d said.
Royce was irate. He walked into the field. “I know what you did to my daughter, so you of a bitch.”
That’s when Cowboy saw Royce held a pistol. “Put down the gun, Anthony.”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” said Garrison. The steel of the semi-automatic in his hands gleamed in the headlights. “I’ve been sitting here all day thinking about eating one of these bullets.”
Royce shouted. “I’ll shoot you!”
Suddenly, a deer darted in front of Cowboy’s SUV and he slammed on the brakes, adrenaline rushing into his bloodstream and focusing his attention back on the present. Sure enough, Jax’s truck was pulled off to the side of the road.
Cowboy pulled in behind it, honking his horn twice to alert Jax to his presence. He left his headlights on, just as he had that fateful night six years ago.
“You didn’t need to come out here,” said Jax.
“Jessa’s looking for you.” Cowboy sat down next to him. “You never told her about Garrison?”
Jax took a drag of a cigarette, the orange tip glowing brightly. “You ever tell Charlotte?”
“Nope.” Cowboy hadn’t seen him smoke in years, the smell of it bringing him back in time. He could see Garrison in the headlights, Royce threatening to kill him. He and Jax had come up on either side of Royce, prepared to stop him from killing Garrison.
“It’s a hard thing, killing yourself,” said Garrison. “I should know. I’ve tried it several times.” He cocked his head. “Maybe I’ve been doing it all wrong.”
Just like that, he trained his weapon on Royce.
Cowboy pulled his gun and fired at Garrison. Jax did, too.
Garrison fell to the ground, gasping for breath.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he cried.
Cowboy ran to him, falling to the ground by his side. “Call 9-1-1.”
“I thought she was older. I was drunk.”
Royce’s voice was cold. “I hope you burn in hell.” One last shot rang out, this one hitt
ing Garrison in the head.
Jax took a drag of his cigarette. “I swear, I still hear the shots out here at night.”
“He had his demons.”
“Suicide by SEAL,” said Jax. “He wanted us to kill him so he wouldn’t have to do it himself.”
“We didn’t have a choice.”
“Nope.”
“Give me one of those.” Cowboy’s cell phone rang. “That’s probably your wife.”
“Tell her I’m not here.”
“You’ve got it.” Cowboy pulled it out. “It’s Logan.” He answered it. “What’s up?”
“Gemma’s missing and so is her security guard. I need help, Cowboy.”
29
Gemma’s shoulders ached from having her hands tied for so long behind the dining chair back, but she dare complain.
Royce moved to the opposite side of the table and sat down. “I never should have slept with you,” he said, eyes full of disdain.
“It was a long time ago.”
He blew out air. “Not long enough, because here you are, fucking up my life all over again.”
She tilted her head. “What did I do?”
“You told HERO Force where to find me. That must have been you.”
“And you shot me and left me for dead,” she said.
“I ran out of bullets. You got lucky.”
“Lucky.” She shook her head at his choice of words. “How did I get the concussion?”
He grinned. “The van window was down. I slammed your head against the door frame. I couldn’t have you screaming and letting the others know I was there.”
“There’s only one thing I don’t understand,” she said. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the ransom Cole wanted for you—a guilty verdict against Jax and Cowboy in my court. But how did they know the men wouldn’t opt for a jury trial?”
He clucked his tongue. “I’m disappointed in you, Gemma. I thought you were smarter than this. Cole had no idea whether the men of HERO Force would opt for a jury trial or not.”
Her mouth opened. “But you did.”
“They’d already filed their pleas by the time I was…taken.”
“You staged your own kidnapping.”
“Not entirely. Cole was there, along with some of his friends from the county jail. I just told them what to do.”
“And the bomb that killed Barbara?”
“That was just a bonus.” He stood and walked to a sideboard, pouring himself a drink. “That woman had been bleeding the life out of me for years. It was well past her time to move on.”
He’d treated her badly in life, then he precipitated her death. “You could have just divorced her.”
He shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t have worked out nearly as well for me. My parents were peach growers. Her parents were in microprocessors. This is their house, actually.” He held out his arms to encompass the extravagance around them.
Gemma’s stare bounced from the golden chandelier to the high ceilings and two-foot crown moldings. “It’s just a house, Royce.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It’s my house, and so are the apartment downtown and the ranch outside of Buckhead. There’s even a cute little place in Switzerland.” He put his hand on his chest, fingers splayed. “While I’m sure life without my beloved Barbara will be difficult to take, these small creature comforts will surely provide me with some pleasure.”
Eight years had changed Royce from someone she admired and respected to a foul-spirited villain. She couldn’t believe she’d ever found him attractive.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked.
“You’re different than you used to be.”
“You mean when we were together?”
She nodded.
He stood and walked slowly toward her. The back of her neck burned and she refused to lift her head. He bent down so that his eyes were even with hers. “I’m not so different than I used to be.”
He reached out and twirled a piece of her hair around his finger. “I could show you, if you’d like.”
She jerked her head to the side, pulling the hair out of his grasp.
“That’s right,” he said. “You’ve moved on to that little boy. What’s his name? Logan.”
Her stomach seemed to fall through the floor. “Leave him out of this.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. You’re the one who put him between us. Now he’s been making waves down at the courthouse, searching for government plates that very closely match my own.”
“You! Why would you try to hurt me? Come to my house with a gun?”
“I said it was my car, sweetie. Not my gun and certainly not myself at the scene. Though I admit I was looking forward to a clean break from the women in my life. Such leeches.”
“That’s it? Just because we used to go out, you wanted me dead? Have you lost your mind?”
“You were the one who made it unpleasant whenever our paths would cross, Gemma.”
She gaped. “Because you lied to me, pretending you weren’t married so that I looked like the office tramp, and my entire career was nearly ruined by gossip and conjecture!”
“Still. I didn’t enjoy seeing you out and about.” He checked his watch.
“Am I keeping you from something?” she asked.
“I’m surprised they’re not here yet.”
“Who?”
“HERO Force, of course. I’m assuming your little knight in shining braces is going come looking for you, but then again, maybe not. I have more faith in Jax and Leo, however. I left the address on your kitchen counter like a big, red flag. They should be here soon.”
Her mouth was dry, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. “What happens when they get here?”
“Did you see the car bomb that killed my wife?”
She nodded.
“That was like the fireworks. This one’s going to be the finale.”
30
Logan sat in the passenger seat of his Ferrari, Cowboy at the wheel. A computer was open on Logan’s lap. “The house was owned by Royce’s wife. She inherited it when her parents passed away.”
“So Royce is leading us to his lair, basically,” said Cowboy.
Logan nodded. “Right.”
“Awesome.” Cowboy barely slowed down for a sharp turn.
“Jesus Cowboy, watch it.”
“If I had this car, I wouldn’t need to date your sister. I could have an orgasm just…driving.”
“Thanks so much for that visual. I still think we should call the police.”
“You might be right, but if we do, they’re not going to let us anywhere near that building. Are you ready to hand Gemma’s safety over to the men in blue?”
“Not with Royce. He’s already killed his wife. The man doesn’t have anything to lose.”
“I’m thinking that was the point. Lose her. Take all her money. Now he’s got everything he wanted.”
“Except he didn’t expect us to get in his way.”
Cowboy nodded. “Exactly.” The tires squealed as he hugged another turn.
“I don’t know what’s worse, letting you drive this thing or having Hawk pilot the bird.”
“Hawk pilot the bird. Touch base with them. See where they are.”
Logan pulled out his cell phone and called Jax. “They just landed on the other side of the property. Why’d you want them so far away?”
“I think Royce might have a special welcome set up for us at the main entrance. I don’t want him taking out the whole team.”
“I get it. So he’ll just take out us.”
“Relax, Logan. I’m not as dumb as I look, okay? He’s got a penchant for explosives, but that’s my thing. I know what I’m looking for.”
“Just remember, Gemma’s in there somewhere.”
“I didn’t forget.”
“And she’s carrying my child.”
Cowboy turned his head to look at Logan. “No shit?”
L
ogan pointed out the windshield. “Watch the damn road.”
“Congratulations, man. I mean you’re happy about it, right?”
“I’m a little freaked out, to be honest, but yeah. I like her a lot.”
“Always a good thing for the parents of an impending person to like each other.”
“I didn’t say she liked me.”
Cowboy pointed to an exit. “Is that my turn?”
“Yeah. Slow down.” The Ferrari slid down the off-ramp like a child’s toy on a track. “Cut the lights,” said Logan. “It’s just ahead.”
A wide mansion came into view in the distance, it’s silhouette reminding Logan of the White House.
“How are we going to find her in there?” asked Logan.
“Easy. Royce wants her to be found. The trick is to get in and get the girl without getting ourselves blown up.”
Cowboy parked the car in the woods surrounding the property. The men grabbed their packs, weapons and earpieces. “We’re going in,” said Cowboy.
“Affirmative. We’re heading in from the back of the property,” said Hawk.
Logan was holding binoculars to his eyes. “I see her. Right there, in the big window to the right of the front door. She’s tied to a dining room chair. No sign of Royce.”
“That’s what I call bait. I’ve got ten bucks says we’re in for a bait ’n’ switch by the time we get up there. Come on.”
When the reached the end of the canopied forest, they stopped to regroup. “See that fire escape up the back side of the house?” Cowboy asked. “We go there. Climb up and get access to the roof, so we can get back down through a stairwell, duct, or courtyard.”
“That’s what he’s expecting us to do,” said Logan. “I say we march right up to the front door and let ourselves in.”
“Too dangerous. It’s completely lit up. We’ll be sitting ducks for this guy.”
“He would have covered the roof, Cowboy. It’s the most obvious point of entry.”
Cowboy sighed. “You want to go in the front fucking door.”
“Yes.”
“We need cover.”
Logan looked from the woods to the house. “That’s about twelve hundred yards.”