by Tee O'Fallon
“She didn’t need to know that. This was going to be my last job. I told you I wanted to settle down. We were in love and going to get married, you sonofabitch.”
When Jack looked at Daisy, his face softened. In Jack’s twisted, homicidal mind, he may really have loved her. Not that it would help her now. Her life hung by a thread. Just as his did.
“But you’re right,” Jack went on. “I never stood a chance. The entire time she only wanted you. Any guy can see when another guy’s got it bad for a woman. You’re in love with her.”
Dom met Jack’s cold stare before locking gazes with Daisy. In the event that he couldn’t free himself before Jack shot them both, he wanted her to hear the truth, spoken from his heart. It was a chance he might never have again. “I’ve been in love with her since the moment I laid eyes on her.”
Tears she’d been holding back spilled out freely. “I love you, too,” she said in a shaky voice.
His heart was ready to burst. Goddammit. He’d never felt so fucking helpless in his entire life. “Daisy, I will get you out of this.” As the rope binding his wrists loosened more, he realized he’d only said he’d get her out of this. Because what he planned next gave him less than a fifty-fifty shot he’d live.
Jack’s face contorted, his nostrils flaring. “Shut up, shut up, shut up.”
Dom’s muscles strained as he pulled again at the ropes. Something wet and sticky dripped onto his fingers. Blood. His.
The muscles in his arms and shoulders screamed with pain at the pressure he’d been inflicting, but he kept at it, rubbing his blood into the rope with his thumb, hoping to make the strands more pliable.
When Jack raised the gun to Dom’s forehead, his mind spun with final thoughts. Dying no longer scared him. He’d been touched by death so many times he’d lost count. But Daisy didn’t deserve this. She deserved to get married, have children, and grow old with her husband. And that husband wouldn’t be him. He was too late.
He looked at her tear-streaked face for the last time. “I love you,” he said. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It can’t end like this.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Jack, wait!” Daisy yelled. Her heart pounded violently with fear. He turned, but the muzzle of the gun was still aimed at Dom’s head. She had to do something. “Please don’t do this. I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill him.”
She looked at Dom—the man she loved more than anything in the world. His blue eyes were locked with hers, his jaw clenched. Beneath the sleeves of his tight black shirt his muscles bulged as he strained to get free.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t?” Jack’s voice was laced with venom, but at least she’d distracted him. For the moment.
Dom’s lips moved, and at first she thought he was grimacing. But then she realized he was trying to communicate with her silently, mouthing words to her.
Keep him talking.
She leaned as far forward as she could in the chair. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear it. I really did want to have a relationship with you.” But she’d fallen in love so deeply there could never be another man for her. And Jack was crazy. She should have realized it sooner.
Dom nodded in a subtle gesture, then strained so hard the veins in his neck stood out. Keep him talking, he mouthed again.
“You got a funny way of showing it.” Jack lowered the gun and walked to stand directly in front of her. “Baby, I could have given you everything. Diamonds. A mansion. We could have traveled anywhere in style. I’ve got money stashed in bank accounts all over the world.”
Yeah, from killing people.
She swallowed hard, resisting the urge to peer around Jack’s body. She had to keep him from turning around. “If you promise not to kill him, I’ll go with you. We can leave the country. Tonight.” When he gave her a suspicious look, she kept going. “We can fly to a country that won’t extradite. You’ll be safe there, and we can get married.”
For a moment, his eyes softened and his brows drew together, as if he were actually considering her offer. Then her heart stilled as his eyes went cold again, and she realized he wasn’t buying into her lies. It was too late.
“How fucking stupid do you think I am?” His voice was deadly now, and he raised the gun, pointing it at her face. “Your biggest mistake was making a fool of me.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling so hard her teeth chattered. This was it. She was going to die. They were both going to die. “Dom, I love you,” she said loudly enough for him to hear her. “I’m sorry for what I said about Anika. I never meant to hurt you.”
“I know,” he said, staring directly at her, his eyes blazing with intensity.
Then she took a deep breath and held it, waiting for the shot that would end her life.
Suddenly, the air shifted. Jack grunted and something plowed into her shoulder, nearly toppling the chair she was sitting in.
She snapped open her eyes as the chair righted. Dom and Jack grappled on the floor beside the bed, grunting as they rolled back and forth, struggling for control of the gun.
Jack still had the gun in his hand, but both of Dom’s hands were around Jack’s, preventing him from aiming it. Jack used his other hand to land punch after punch on Dom’s ribs. A pop sounded and a small hole appeared on the nearby wall.
She screamed, knowing no one would hear her over the music blaring through the walls. Tears blurred her vision as she twisted and pulled her arms apart, struggling to free herself of the ties around her wrists.
The two men rolled, crashing in to the nightstand. The bedside lamp teetered, then fell off the table, striking Dom in the head.
The distraction was enough that Jack managed to maneuver on top of Dom, straddling his chest. Jack still had the gun, but Dom’s hands clamped around Jack’s kept the muzzle from pointing at his chest. Veins bulged in both men’s forearms as they grappled for control of the gun. Slowly, the muzzle moved closer and closer to Dom’s chest.
“No!” Daisy lashed out with her leg, trying to kick Jack, but she was too far away and the chair was too heavy to move. Her heart pounded as she watched the muzzle of the gun inch to where Jack could almost get off a round into the side of Dom’s chest.
Dom let go of Jack’s hand and plowed his fist into Jack’s face. The first blow took him by surprise, and the gun pointed away. Dom punched him again full in the face, and Daisy heard a crack. Blood spurted from Jack’s nose, but he held fast to the gun.
Reaching out, Dom again grabbed Jack’s wrist. Both men strained and grunted from their efforts. Dom managed to pivot them with Jack now on his back, pulling Dom down with him. Daisy couldn’t see the gun anymore. It was somewhere between their two bodies, and she couldn’t tell who had control of it.
Two more muffled pops sounded, although she barely heard the noise above the men’s heavy breathing. Dom’s head lowered to Jack’s chest.
“No!” she cried. “Dom!”
For a second, neither man moved. She stared at Dom’s back, willing him to take a breath. But he didn’t. He lay on top of Jack, not moving.
“No, no, no!” Daisy tried to stand, straining and tugging at the rope binding her wrists, trying to get to him. Her pulse raced, and she screamed again. “Help! Somebody help!” It was no use. Not with that damned music still blasting from downstairs.
She stared at Dom, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly, he took a breath. “Oh, thank God.”
Groaning, he pushed off Jack and pried the gun from his fingers, tossing it onto the bed next to the rifle.
A dark spot the size of a quarter stained Jack’s shirt. He didn’t move, and she couldn’t tell if he was breathing.
Dom got unsteadily to his feet. He staggered for a moment, then came around to the back of Daisy’s chair to untie her. When she was free, he held out his hand, and she flew into his arms, barely registering the grunt he muttered as she wrapped her arms around him, holding on tightl
y. His warmth and strength seeped into her, imbuing her with more love than she thought possible. If they could get through this, they could get through anything.
He kissed her hard on the mouth. “Baby, are you okay?” She nodded. “We have to hurry,” he said, releasing her, then picking up the rifle from the bed. He folded the stock in half, making the weapon half the length it originally was.
“Daisy.” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
His eyes had a glassy, dull look, and she knew he was dying. She took no joy in his pain or in his death and couldn’t stop the jolt of unexpected compassion she felt for the dying killer.
He looked directly up at Dom, his breath shallow now, almost undetectable. “Take care of our girl.” Then his head fell to the side, his eyes open but lifeless. Blood still oozed from the single hole in his chest but seemed to slow.
Single hole?
When Jack and Dom had been struggling she’d heard three shots. One went into the wall and the other into Jack’s chest. Where did the third round go?
She turned back to Dom. Deep lines creased his forehead, and from the tight set of his mouth, she knew he was in pain. Her gaze traveled his body and stopped at his chest. There was a hole in the vest he wore. She hadn’t noticed it before because the garment was black. She pulled the side of the vest from his chest and gasped. Like the vest, the black knit shirt also contained an unmistakable hole just above his pectoral muscle. Through the hole she saw blood.
“You’ve been shot!” She reached up to touch him, but he took her hand in his.
“It’s a through and through. I’ll be okay.” But he didn’t look okay. Not to her.
She understood through and through meant the bullet had passed completely through his body, which she guessed from his response was a good thing. But sweat glistened on his brow, and his breathing had suddenly become shallower.
“We have to go.” He tugged on her hand and led her to the outer room.
“Yeah, to a hospital.” From behind him she glimpsed the other hole in the back of his vest, only this one was bigger, and she could see clear through the vest and shirt to the bloodied, ravaged flesh where the bullet had left his body.
“No time.” He let go of her hand and opened the door. With the rifle in his hands, he glanced in both directions along the balcony, then nodded to her. “Let’s go.”
The firmness in his voice broached no argument. She followed him out the door, frightened that after everything that had just happened, he might die after all.
From where they stood overlooking the packed lobby below, voices could barely be distinguished over the band’s loud rendition of “New York, New York.” Guests were steadily making their way into the ballroom for the commencement of the grand reopening.
Wincing slightly, Dom tucked the rifle under his vest and scanned the lobby. “There,” he said, pointing to the hotel’s main doors. Daisy followed the direction of his outstretched arm to see Gray arguing with hotel security. Behind him were half a dozen other men in suits and several uniformed officers. He clasped her upper arm. “Get to Gray. Tell him Marsden is inside and he’s rigged the hotel to blow. Gray will take it from there. As soon as you tell him, get out of the hotel and get as far away from here as you can. Got it?”
“No. No way.” She shook her head. “You’re hurt, and I want to help.”
Some of the color had drained from his face, and his jaw tightened. “Please.” Their gazes locked, and what she saw terrified her. His eyes were hard and unyielding, his expression fierce and deadly. This was the face of a warrior going into battle. His voice was low and eerily controlled, scaring her even more. “I love you, but I can’t do this if I have to worry about you, too. Get out of here. Now!”
It killed her to admit it, but he was right. As much as she wanted to remain at his side, the last thing she wanted was for him to be distracted by worry. She swallowed, nodding. “Okay, but what are you going to do?”
“I have to stop Marsden.” He rubbed her arm gently. “You know I have to try.”
“What if you can’t stop him before the hotel blows up?” She couldn’t imagine living her life without him. She pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. “Don’t you dare leave me. I love you too much to lose you now.”
His brows furrowed, then he leaned down and pressed a hard kiss on her mouth. Abruptly, he released her and pulled her behind him down the stairs. At the bottom of the staircase he turned to her, and again she glimpsed the steely determination in his eyes. “Go.” He tipped his head to the doors, then disappeared into the crowd.
She took a deep breath and began wending her way through the throng of people heading to the ballroom. She was like a salmon swimming upstream, and she kept knocking into people. No matter how hard she tried getting to the exit door, she was being herded into the ballroom with everyone else.
At the top of the steps, she glimpsed an opening in the crowd and side-stepped to a curtained wall. She had to get out, had to warn Gray about Marsden’s plan to blow the building.
Something gripped her arm, yanking her backward behind the curtain. She twisted and tried jerking free, but the hand around her upper arm tightened like a vise. She gasped when the shiny barrel of a gun was pointed at her face.
“With a body like that”—Smith’s lips twisted into a cruel smile as his gaze lowered to her breasts—“I’m kinda happy you’re not dead. Yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dom wound his way through the crowd, heading for the ballroom. With the number of people in attendance, the overflow was backing up into the lobby. Soon it would be standing room only.
There were so many people chattering away, admiring the hotel’s decor and high-end furnishings, no one noticed how casually he was dressed. Or the muzzle of the SIG 556 rifle sticking out from under his vest.
The Swiss-made rifle was a phenomenal piece of machinery, adjustable to single- or triple-shot bursts, along with fully automatic. He hoped to hell he wouldn’t have to use it on any setting. But Marsden was prepared to die. Like him, the colonel was a solider, and going down without a fight wasn’t in either of their genetic makeups.
He flowed with the crowd into the ballroom, pretending to look for his seat when he was, in fact, systematically searching the room in quadrants for Marsden. With the flashy uniform, he’d expected the colonel to stand out, but he still couldn’t get a bead on the man’s twenty.
In addition to the mayor, he’d spotted two state senators and congressmen, along with countless other top investment bankers. And standing in strategic locations was the mayor’s protective service detail—six NYPD officers trained to protect the leader of the city at all costs. If one of them spotted the rifle beneath his vest, he’d be a dead man.
While the remainder of those standing found their seats, Dom skirted around the other side of the room, blending in with the waitstaff that was wearing black, as he was. With every step, he searched for Marsden.
Where the hell is the colonel?
The microphone on the dais squealed as a man he recognized addressed the crowd. It was Andrew, the wimp who’d danced with Daisy at Gray and Alex’s wedding.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention.” The crowd hushed. “Thank you for being here with us for the grand reopening of the world-renowned Piazza Hotel.” When Andrew began clapping, the audience joined in. “Without further ado, I give you Mr. Christopher Shane, CEO of Fairhaven Hotels and Resorts.”
The audience was on its feet, applauding loudly, giving Dom the cover he needed to keep moving, continually searching the crowd. Along the way, he noted Shane’s remaining two security guards standing well off to the sides of the raised stage.
As he neared the back of the ballroom, he caught sight of Gray and two other detectives from his squad—Teddy Pulaski and Artie Griffin—pushing their way through the overflow of people jamming the lobby. What the hell? None of them were making any effort to evacuate the building. As soon
as the crowd thinned, they bolted for the balcony stairs.
“This beautiful hotel,” Shane said, “is my crowning achievement. My baby. It’s taken three years and four hundred million dollars, but what I’ve achieved is a testament to my perseverance and the grandeur of the Piazza’s landmark history. This hotel contains the most beautiful trappings money can buy. I even installed an underground mall.”
The crowd burst out in laughter and more clapping just as Dom caught up to Gray and the others.
“Gray!” he yelled over the applause.
At the bottom of the stairs, Gray spun, as did the other detectives. “Dom, thank the fuck you’re all right.”
“Why aren’t you evacuating?” he shouted back. “We need every bomb squad in the city here posthaste!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Gray stared at him like he was crazed off his ass.
“Didn’t Daisy tell you? Marsden’s got the hotel wired to blow.”
“No. I haven’t seen her.” Gray grabbed a radio from his belt and began calling in the threat.
“Jesus Christ, Carew,” Griffin muttered. “Gray told us you were up to your eyeballs in some seriously deep-cover shit, but this is beyond deep.”
“And then some.” Pulaski nodded. “We got your back. What do you need?”
“Dammit.” Dom twisted his head to the main entrance, then all around the lobby and up to the balcony. With every passing second worry pinged his brain. “I’m here with a woman—Daisy Fowler—she should have met you guys at the door, and now I don’t know where the hell she is. She’s tall, brown hair, and wearing a red dress that should stand out like a beacon on a lighthouse. If you see her, get her to safety outside the building.” He stared hard at Griffin and Pulaski. “She’s my woman. You got me?”
“We got you,” both men said simultaneously.
His fingers curled tightly around the gun’s stock beneath his vest. Something was wrong. He knew it with every fiber of his being. And where the hell was Smith? He seriously doubted Smith was ready to die at the colonel’s side. Smith wasn’t a solider. That bastard’s only allegiance was to himself and money.