by Jessica Ames
“I’d give everything up for you.”
I search her face, looking for any sign of the person I knew before, the person I thought I knew before, but all I see in her eyes is a hint of mania.
“I don’t want you to give up anything for me,” I tell her softly.
She sits back on her heels. “That’s what love is, April—sacrifice.”
I stare at her, wondering how things got this far, wondering how she got this far without me noticing.
“You scared me,” I admit.
Bekah’s face contorts into a frown. “I was angry.”
“I see that now.” I reach out and cup her face. She flinches then settles into the gesture. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, but it doesn’t change things. He’s a problem, and while he’s still here, you’ll still have feelings for him. I can’t allow him to come between us.”
A frigid hand claws at my heart as I realize I failed to talk her around. “Bekah, please. For me, please, don’t hurt him.”
This is the wrong thing to say. I know it as soon as the words leave my mouth by the way her expression morphs into one of pure rage.
The last thing I see before everything goes black is the butt of the gun swinging toward my face. Then, it’s lights out.
38
Chris
The first address on Brody’s list gives us is nothing. We search every inch of the place, but there’s nothing here. It doesn’t look as if she’s been doing much renovating. The décor is old fashioned and looks like it climbed out of the 1970s. There’s no paint or ladders, anything that indicates she’s fixing the place up.
“Fuck!” I tear a hand through my hair before I reholster my gun.
J lets out a breath. “We’ll find her. Just because she’s not here, doesn’t mean she’s not in one of the houses on that list.”
It doesn’t, but it doesn’t necessarily mean she’s at one of the houses either. Maybe it was a mistake not to get the police involved in this. The clock is counting down and every minute counts.
I storm out to the car and climb in, J on my heels, then we take off across town to the second address. I jiggle my leg, nervous energy making me twitchy. I want to find her now. Every second she’s away from me, feels like an hour. I can’t bear it.
J stops the car about half a mile up the road from the address. As I climb out of the car and quietly close the door behind me, I can see why Brody liked this address as a possible location. It’s off the beaten path, tucked away from unfriendly eyes. It would be a perfect location to take an abducted person and hide from the world.
Part of me wonders why she didn’t cover her tracks well, while the less rational part of my brain doesn’t care. I’m just focused on finding her.
“You know this could be a trap, right?” J says, speaking my thoughts.
“Yep.”
“And you still want to go in?”
“Absolutely.”
J scrubs a hand over his jaw, his eyes hard, uncertain, but resolute. “Remember she’s trained too. Be careful, yeah?”
I nod, and we begin stalking toward the house. Keeping low and to the natural camouflage offered by the trees, we make it to the outskirts of the property. Parked in the driveway is a car. Bekah’s car.
Shit.
I nod to J and hold up a hand, signaling for him to follow me. We move to the perimeter of the house and skirt around the side of it, Thor going ahead of us, sniffing like crazy. A peek through each window we pass tells me the house is abandoned—downstairs at least.
We reach the backdoor, and when I test the handle, it opens. This has all my spider senses tingling. J’s right. This is a trap.
I lick my dry lips and step cautiously into the house. It smells damp and musty, and the inside is pretty dilapidated.
It doesn’t look habitable.
We clear each room as if we’re still in the Army, with precision and finesse. It’s been years since we last did this, but we fall back into old routines with ease. Thor also falls into the habits ingrained in his training.
It takes us minutes to clear the up and downstairs rooms, which leaves the last possible place—the basement.
Fuck, I do not want to go down those stairs, but if she’s here, if she needs me…
April is my everything, and although I know I’m walking into an ambush, there’s no other option here. Thor goes down first and as soon as he rounds the corner of the stairs, I hear his low growls, indicating someone is down there.
Slowly, I lower my booted foot to the first step and then the second. With care, I move down the steps, my handgun held high. I’m ready for anything, and I know Bekah is her friend, but I’m prepared to shoot her if she’s threatening April.
As I round the stairs at the bottom, I see Thor waiting at an open door to what looks like a half-decorated bedroom. It’s at odds with the rest of the building, which looks somewhere between a squat and drug den.
I step closer and then closer again, J on my heels, and that’s when I see her. Through the open door, I can see April is standing in front of the bed, a chain around her foot and Bekah is standing behind her, her gun pressed to her head. Thor goes crazy, barking, but I’m worried Bekah might pull the trigger if Thor leaps at her, so I call the dog to heel. He does, although reluctantly. He doesn’t stop growling and barking though.
I watch as April sags into Bekah’s hold. She looks a little wobbly, her eyes kind of glassy and rolling in her head, and there’s blood plastered down one side of her face.
Anger flares in me. I don’t remove my gun’s aim from Bekah, even though I don’t have a clean shot. Neither does J or she’d be down already.
“Let her go,” I demand.
“That’s your big rescue plan?” Bekah snorts. “This is who you chose over me?”
“I didn’t—”
April silences as the gun is pressed harder against her temple.
My jaw cracks under the pressure of keeping my teeth clamped together.
“Let her go,” I repeat.
Bekah laughs a little maniacally. Then the gun is pointed at me. She also comes out a little from behind April, giving me a clean shot at her. I don’t hesitate or try to talk Bekah down. I just fire.
She’s obviously done talking too, because she fires at the same time as my gun goes off.
My body jerks, as if someone has hit me in the chest with a sledgehammer. Then red-hot fire burns through my left upper chest. It steals my breath completely. I can’t draw air, I can’t do anything but slide to my knees and slump to my back. April’s scream resonates in my mind, and I twist my head to find her. I see Bekah lying on the floor, her eyes glazed, a hole in the middle of her forehead weeping blood. It looks clean, methodical even, until you see the mess of blood spatter and brain matter covering the wall behind her. I should feel guilt, but I don’t. I feel nothing but sharp pain lancing through my chest.
April drops to her knees in the doorway of the room, the chain not allowing her to come to me.
J moves to my side and doesn’t hesitate to press his hands over my wounds. I can feel the blood leaving my body, can see it seeping through J’s fingers as he tries and fails to stop the bleeding.
“Stay with me, Chris,” she orders even as she tugs at the chain on her ankle. “I need this off.”
“One problem at a time, darlin’,” J mutters.
My head is turned to the side so I can watch her even as my peripheral vision starts to darken.
“You’re safe,” I say.
Tears brim in her eyes. “Thanks to you.”
Thanks to me...
I saved her life. I saved a life. After Luke, I didn’t think it would be possible for me to rebalance my universe, but saving April makes me think it just might be.
I reach up toward her with a bloody hand, wanting to stroke her cheek, to touch her, but there’s no way to close the gap between us.
“I love you.”
Tears well in her eyes. “Don’t do th
at. Don’t you dare tell me you love me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like you think it’s the last time you’ll get to say it.”
I give her a soft smile. “I do love you, and I’m not telling you this because I think I’m going to die, April. I’m telling you this because it’s true.”
“J’s called for help. EMTs are on the way. Just hold on, okay.”
I nod, my throat feeling stuffed full, and I try to focus on her face as we wait. My last thought as the police swarm into the basement is how grateful I am that she’s okay.
Epilogue
April
Milo, it turns out, called the police the moment he was alone. I don’t know whether to thank him or throttle him, but it did mean when the police swarmed the house I was being held in, they knew not to shoot J or me.
I have no idea what they made of the scene when they arrived. One of their own was dead, Chris was lying on the ground, blood pouring out of him, and I was chained to the ground, watching helplessly as J tried to stem the bleeding. It took a little time to clear up exactly what happened after the event, but everything worked out in the end.
Just as well, because I don’t think I can deal with any more stress. Sitting next to Chris’s hospital bed has been hard enough. The bullet hit him below his clavicle and caused his lung to collapse. Things were a little bit scary for a time. I was sure I was going to lose him, but his recovery has been steady.
Too steady really. He wanted out of bed the moment he woke up.
“Stop messing with your bandage,” I chastise without looking up from the magazine I’m thumbing through.
“It’s itchy,” he complains.
I sigh, putting the mag down. “You’re acting like a baby right now.”
“I got shot. I think that means I’m owed some complaining time.”
He really is. I still can’t believe he did take a bullet for me. “Don’t remind me,” I tell him, a shiver running through me as I think about how close he came to death. As it was, I lost my best friend and that hurts enough. I know Chris had to do what he did, but I wish there had been another way.
He reaches out suddenly and grabs my hand, drawing my attention to him and bringing me out of my spiraling thoughts.
“Hey, you okay?”
I nod. I’m not okay, but I’m getting there. With Chris at my side, things are easier.
“Yeah, honey. I’m good. Do you need more meds or a drink? Anything I can get you?”
He shakes his head. His old teammates have taken care of me while Chris has been in hospital. In fact, they’ve been a godsend. I didn’t expect to get as close to them as I have, but the guys are good people and funny to boot—especially Beanie. His brother, Curt, turned up for a few days when Chris was first admitted to the hospital, but he returned home yesterday. He’ll be back this coming weekend with Dana and the kids, which I can’t wait to surprise Chris with. It’s been a while since he last saw them.
“I’m going to talk to someone,” he tells me.
I blink, not understanding what he’s talking about. “What do you mean?”
“About Luke. About my thoughts on that. You’re right. I can’t keep it inside me any longer. I need to get it out of my system if we’re going to truly have a chance of being together.”
Relief floods me, and I squeeze his hand. “I’m happy to hear that, Chris. I think it’s a good idea.”
I hope it’ll enable him to let go of his hurt, his pain, his guilt and his grief for his friend and accept things as they are.
“Any idea when I can blow this joint?” he asks. “I want to get back to you.”
“And Thor,” I remind him.
“And the damned dog too.”
“Maybe tomorrow, the doctor said.”
He leans back into his pillows with a huff that has me grinning.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a terrible patient?”
“It’s come up before.”
I trace patterns on the back of his hand. “Well, I love you, bad habits and all.”
He grins. “I love you too, baby.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “I never thought I could be happy again, that I deserved to find happiness. Thank you for proving me wrong.”
“I’m always happy to prove you wrong. Especially when it comes to us.”
He tugs me toward him, and I lean over the hospital bed rail to kiss his mouth. It’s a long, wet, glorious kiss that leaves me panting.
He pulls away just far enough to press his forehead to mine.
“Thank you, April.”
“For what?”
He meets my gaze, his eyes shining with love. I have no idea what the future holds for us, but I can’t wait to find out. This man is my everything.
“For being this sinner’s salvation.”
* * *
The End
The author and I hope you’ve enjoyed this addition to the Suspenseful Seduction World. Please consider leaving a review on your favorite book sites. Thank you!
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Love, Samantha
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Author Jessica Ames
Jessica Ames lives in a small market town in the Midlands, England. She lives with her dog and when she’s not writing, she’s playing with crochet hooks.