Boss

by Deborah Armstrong

  “Okay.” Dane’s eyes closed.

  “Dane?”

  “Give me a minute.” They stayed for a quiet moment, not moving. Lucky on top of Dane, waiting for his command. Jules kept hold of Dane’s hand and waited for one word that would tell her he was back. A simple word that meant so much in its uttering.

  “Off.”

  Lucky jumped off Dane, immediately sitting by the bench, his attention focused on his master.

  “Jules?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I love you.”

  “Won’t Bates mind?”

  “He’ll be relieved not to have to come pick me up. He won’t know what to do with his freedom.”

  “He didn’t sound happy from what I could hear.”

  “He never sounds happy.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  Dane pulled Jules into his side as they took a taxi to her townhouse. Jules gave quick goodbyes to Mark and their tablemates while Dane waited in the lobby. His seizure had nearly exhausted him, and he wanted to spend the last of his energy in the company of his Red.

  She snuggled into the warmth of his coat. “How much longer?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  “Val will be happy to see you all dressed up.”

  “You think so?”

  “Every time we talk, she has to mention your name and how wonderful you are. She throws Becca’s name in, too, for good measure. As though I needed to be convinced to fall for you.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  She didn’t answer him right away. Instead, she played with a button on his coat.

  “Ignoring the question doesn’t make it go away, Red.”

  “I’m not ignoring it. It’s just that if I say the words, it will make me think of the time wasted.”

  “Time hasn’t been wasted. Everything happens the way it should.”

  “The eternal optimist.”

  “You could say that. And the other thing that you haven’t said yet.”

  Jules swatted at him playfully. “You don’t let things go.”

  “Not when I want an answer.”

  Jules breathed in deeply, letting the air out slowly. “You win. I love you, too, although we’re not going to rush things. I want to do this romance thing right.”

  “Romance thing? Didn’t we do it right the night we met? How much practice do we need?”

  “This time you’re Dane, and I’m Jules. This time we’ll learn everything about each other without making up stories. This time—”

  “It will be for keeps.” Dane kissed the top of Jules’ head. “Do you think Val will be up? Because once I get you into your house, I’d like some private time with you.”

  The taxi pulled into Jules’ driveway and stopped. Dane paid the driver then exited the cab with Lucky. Jules waited for Dane to open her door, somehow knowing that he would want her to. Her door opened, and his hand reached in, offering her assistance.

  “Careful, it’s a bit slippery.”

  Jules linked her arm through Dane’s as they made it slowly to her front door.

  “Keys?”

  “I can open my front door.”

  He gave her a sideways glance, letting her know that there were some things she shouldn’t argue. Jules handed them to him. Dane slid the key into the lock and opened the door.

  “Go on, boy,” he ordered as he motioned with his head.

  Lucky stepped in, and the hairs on the ridge on his back immediately stood on end while a low growl rumbled from his chest.

  “Stay here.” Dane’s voice was low and commanding.

  “What is it?” Jules whispered.

  “I don’t know. I’ll take a look.”

  “Becca!” Jules grabbed onto Dane’s arm.

  “Shh. I’ve got this. If I’m not back in twenty seconds, call Bates. Tell him we may have an intruder.”

  “Dane—”

  “Promise me you’ll stay here. You won’t come inside until I tell you to.”

  “I promise.”

  “Good. I’ve got this, Jules. Now start timing me.”

  Dane eased his way into the house, keeping Lucky on a short leash. He couldn’t risk the dog charging at a stranger, especially one who could be armed. Dane needed to assess this situation, keep his cool, and not get anyone hurt or killed. Every light in the house seemed to be turned on, a clear give away that something was amiss. Val didn’t like a dark house, but this was overkill even for her.

  Lucky tugged at his leash, pulling Dane down the hallway toward the kitchen. Dane kept close to the wall, advancing in slow, measured steps.

  “Val?”

  He heard muffled sounds in response coming from ahead of him. Lucky whined, tugging harder at his leash.

  “Easy, boy. Steady.”

  “Don’t be scared, Dane, or do you prefer the name Gary?”

  He knew that voice. Dane made his way to the kitchen entrance and stopped. He took in the situation, instantly seeing broken glass in the kitchen door, Val seated on a stool, her mouth gagged and her hands tied behind her back. John Sinclair stood at her side with a pistol pointed at her head. Dane recognized the type of gun, a Walther PPK, small and accurate.

  Lucky barked, pulling at his leash to get to the intruder.

  Sinclair aimed the pistol at him. “Shut him up, or else he’s dead.”

  “Quiet.”

  Lucky obeyed. He sat at Dane’s feet, whining.

  Sinclair resumed pointing the gun at Val.

  “Put the gun down, Sinclair. There’s no need for it.”

  “Where is she? Where’s Jules?”

  “Outside.” Dane saw the terror in Val’s eyes. One cheek redder than the other, showing the start of a bruise. “You’re going to be okay, Val.”

  “Bring Jules inside.”

  Dane shook his head. “You know I can’t do that. Why are you here?”

  “I’m righting a wrong. Five years ago, you cheated me, and now it’s time for me to collect what you owe me.”

  Dane frowned. “What are you owed?”

  “You and Jules played me for a fool. Tried to make me believe that you were involved, but you weren’t. You lied.”

  “We were involved. It wasn’t a lie.”

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. Jules called you Gary and said that you were a bush firefighter. You’re no more a firefighter than I am. I was at the gala tonight. I saw the two of you.”

  In an instant, Dane recognized the face in the shadows as being Sinclair’s and wondered how he had missed it.

  “Okay, so I’m not a firefighter, but Jules and I were involved. We were playing a game, one she didn’t want to play with you. She wasn’t interested in you then and she sure as hell isn’t interested in you now.”

  “She would be if you weren’t in the picture.”

  Dane laughed. “Never.”

  Sinclair pointed the gun at Dane. “Don’t laugh at me!”

  “I’m not laughing at you. It’s Jules. Do you think you’re the only one she’s burned? She left me after that night. No note. No goodbye, just gone. She treated me the same way she did you. She’s moved on, Sinclair. She’s got someone else in her life who she’s serious about big time. If you don’t believe me, ask Val. Oh wait, you can’t, she’s gagged.”

  “Dane?” A child’s voice called out to him from down the hallway.

  “Who is there?” Sinclair asked, still holding the pistol to Val’s head.

  Dane turned his head slightly, enough so that he could see Becca with eyes wide open hugging Flopsy to her chest. She stood outside of Jules’ office door.

  “Becca, remember your secret hiding spot? Go there now. Hide, Becca. Hide.”

  Dane turned his attention back to Sinclair. “Touch one hair on that
child’s head, and you die.”

  John Sinclair laughed. “Now who’s laughing? I have the gun, Andrews. You have nothing.”

  “You’re wrong. I have everything.”

  Jules promised Dane she wouldn’t enter the house. It was the hardest promise she had ever made in her life, and the longest twenty seconds she could remember. When Jules called Bates, begging him to help Dane, he made her promise, too. She waited on the doorstep, shivering in the cold winter air and cried.

  Within minutes, Bates arrived in front of her house. He left the SUV with the engine running and made his way to Jules.

  “Any change?”

  She shook her head.

  “Get in the car and stay there. It’s the safest place for you to be. Go!”

  Jules looked back at the house. Every maternal fiber in her being called out to her to rush into that house and save her child.

  “I’ve got this. Now go!”

  Jules slid down the driveway, struggling to keep from falling. She reached the vehicle and pulled at the door, scrambled inside, then closed the door. Jules stared out of the window, praying for her child and Val, and the two men rescuing them.

  Bates reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his pistol before opening the front door quietly. From the foyer, he could see Dane’s back to him with one hand behind his back, signaling him—one shooter, standing. Dane laughed. A dead give away that he was stalling for time until reinforcements arrived. He always kept his cool. Dane trained for it, but his demeanor went far beyond training. While on tour facing the deadliest of battles, Bates often wondered how his partner kept his shit together when everyone around him lost it. It wasn’t optimism. It wasn’t faith. It was something Bates had yet to figure out.

  Bates cleared his head, focusing on the task at hand. Making his way through the living room to the kitchen, he stayed alert, listening to the conversation. Dane dropped clues, letting Bates know the situation. Val was alive and gagged. By the angle of Dane’s stance, Bates knew the position of the intruder. His back would be to Bates. If only Dane could keep the bastard occupied, Bates would have a clear shot.

  “What do you mean that you have everything?”

  Dane shifted on his feet, trying to draw Sinclair away from Val.

  “I have more than I want, Sinclair. Quite frankly, I could do without some of it. I’d be happy to share it with you if you’d like.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Cancer. I’ve got a tumor growing right here.” Dane pointed to the top of his head. As he did so, he couldn’t help but notice Val’s eyes open wide, and tears start to form. “It was a helluva shock. Especially now, when I thought I was getting my life back.”

  “I’m not falling for your lies.”

  “I don’t lie, Sinclair. I’m a man of my word. If a man can’t stand by his word, he’s nothing.”

  “It shouldn’t matter then if I shoot you. You’re going to die anyway.” Sinclair aimed his pistol at Dane.

  “Except for one thing. I don’t plan to die.”

  At that moment, a shot rang out. John Sinclair crumpled to the floor as Dane lunged for Val. He grabbed her and pulled her off the stool and away from Sinclair’s fallen form.

  Bates entered the room, kicking away Sinclair’s weapon before he kneeled beside him. He rolled him to his back.

  “I should have killed you when I first saw you, you son of a bitch.” Confirming that his target wasn’t seriously injured, he added, “Looks like you’re going to live.”

  Dane untied Val’s gag and hands. “You’re okay?”

  “You have cancer?”

  “Just a bit.” Dane glanced over at Bates. “Jules?”

  “She’s in the car waiting. What about Becca?”

  “Shit!”

  Dane ran to Jules’ office. He made his way to the desk and found Lucky underneath it, on guard. Lucky’s backside pressed against the secret hiding spot as he looked out from under the desk. The hairs on his back stood at attention, threatening anyone who dared come near him.

  “Good boy. Let’s get her out.”

  Lucky barked once as though he were telling Dane to hurry up. He turned his body to face the underside of the desk with his nose pressed to the wooden panel.

  Dane reached under the desk, feeling for the disk that would release Becca from her hiding place. It would have been easier without Lucky’s nose in the way, but Dane thought it best if the first friendly face Becca saw was Lucky’s. Pressing the disk, Dane waited for the drawer to open.

  “Lucky! You found me!”

  Dane smiled at the sound of the sweetest voice he had ever heard.

  Lucky whined his excitement, and his wagging tail thumped against the desk. His licks to Becca’s face brought about cherubic giggling.

  “Becca!” Jules called out to her from behind Dane.

  “She’s fine, Jules. Come on out, Becca. Mommy wants to see you.”

  Dane got to his feet. “Lucky, come, boy.”

  Lucky crawled out from under the desk with the little girl by his side.

  Jules bent down, scooping her daughter into her arms and hugged her tight.

  “She didn’t see anything,” Dane said softly.

  “Mommy, I hid again, and Lucky found me. I like this game.”

  It had been a long night. Dealing with the emergency medical services and then giving statements to the police took its toll on everyone. Dane made the assurance that further questions would be answered the next day once a good night’s sleep provided clearer heads. The house, now a crime scene, had to be vacated. Dane brought his family to his home. Their home.

  “When were you going to tell me?” Jules had changed into a tank top and pajama bottoms.

  “After Christmas.” Dane handed Jules her drink. “I didn’t want to ruin the holidays.” He wore a T-shirt with boxer shorts since he had never been a fan of pajamas.

  “Val is pissed at you.”

  Dane took a long swallow of his Scotch. “She can yell at me tomorrow if she wants to. You can, too if you want. Right now, I want us to sleep.”

  He placed his glass on his bedside table before falling onto his bed.

  “It is tomorrow.”

  “Later tomorrow then.”

  “She really should be in bed.” Jules gazed at her sleeping daughter cuddled up to Lucky on his overly large dog bed with a blanket over them.

  “She’s fine. Besides, you didn’t want to leave her alone, and I want you here with me.”

  “She’s sleeping on the floor.”

  “I’ve slept in worse places. Trust me. Becca’s fine.”

  Jules placed her unfinished drink beside Dane’s glass. “I trust you. More than anyone else in the world, I trust you.” She gazed down at him. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “There’s a but coming.”

  “I’ve never been so scared in my life. When you went into the house not knowing what you’d find. And I was left outside to think the worst. Becca and Val—”

  Dane opened his arms to her. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to them.”

  Jules lowered herself onto him, snuggling into the warm hardness of his chest. Dane held her tight as his hands caressed her back in a soothing motion.

  “I love you with all my heart.”

  “I know what you mean. I love you, too.”

  They lay in silence for a long moment.

  “You’ll always be my Gary.”

  “Always.”

  Dane awoke to soft kisses and heavy pressure on his chest. His left hand reached for the owner of the mouth that had the worst case of morning breath he had ever known. Lucky. Dane smiled and rubbed the head of his beloved dog. “Good morning to you, too,” he said quietly.

  His right arm felt heavy. Another weight kept it pinned to the mattress. Dan
e turned his head to find two redheads asleep beside him. Becca had wormed her way in between Jules and Dane, and Jules was the one making use of Dane’s arm for a pillow. He smiled, realizing that the warm and fuzzy feeling he was experiencing was what the men in his unit described when they talked about being at home with their families. There was nothing like this—peace and contentment that Dane had never known. The feeling of family. His family.

  Lucky nudged Dane.

  “I know, boy. Time for a pee. Me, too. Off.”

  Lucky jumped to the floor and waited for Dane.

  Special Elite training didn’t prepare Dane for the moves necessary for extricating himself from a little girl and her mother without waking them. Becca rolled into the space he once occupied. Jules muttered something in her sleep before snuggling into her pillow.

  Trying his best to be quiet, Dane slipped into stealth mode, not making a sound while making his way to his bathroom. Lucky followed, stopping in the doorway to give his master some semblance of privacy. Dane knew it was silly. He couldn’t urinate if Lucky stood beside him watching. It was a guy thing. Guys didn’t look at other guys pissing.

  When he went to wash his hands and brush his teeth, seeing two toothbrushes, one small and the other regular, next to his in the glass, made him smile. They’re home, where they belong.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and fresh out of the oven muffins greeted Dane as he entered the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” he said to Bates as he continued to walk to the back door.

  Bates nodded.

  “Go on, boy. Have your pee.” Dane opened the door for his dog. He closed the door and watched Lucky through the glass. “Where’s Val?”

  “She’ll be back,” Bates answered as he moved from the table to refill his coffee mug.

  “Back from where?”

  “She’s still pissed. Started crying, so she left to get her self together.” He took an empty cup and filled it for Dane before returning to the table.

  Dane opened the kitchen door. “Let’s go. C’mon boy.” Lucky came bounding into the kitchen then sat on the mat. “Good boy.” Dane praised his dog as he took a towel and wiped the dog’s snow-covered feet. “Time for breakfast.”