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The Complete Retrieval Duet

Page 31

by Martinez, Aly

My chest expanded into entirely new realms. I brushed a stray hair out of her face and pressed my lips to her forehead. “Jesus, Clare.”

  “But, right now, after spending the last month with you and getting to know the real Heath, I can honestly say I love you more than Luke and Agent Light combined. But I never want you to think it’s just because you rescued me from Hell. Or just because you were kind to me when I needed it the most. I love you because you’re an incredible man who remembers something like a silly superstition from when I was at my darkest and bought me a gift so I could carry that with me into the light—with you. For that, I love you, Heath.”

  I waited a second to make sure she was finished talking before I lifted her off her feet and covered her mouth with mine. She moaned, circled her legs around my hips, and locked them at the ankle as though I were trying to get away rather than crawl inside her the way I so desperately wanted to.

  How the fuck was I ever going to find words to follow that up? There was no combination of letters in all of the world’s vast languages to properly convey how I felt about her. But, as I rested her shoulders against the cool sheet rock and moved my mouth to her neck, I gave her all I had.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I can’t believe you made me wear this,” I whispered to Roman.

  Why I’d whispered, I had no idea. Probably out of habit. Because there was not one person in the entire movie theater. Of course, that was because bajillionaire Roman had insisted on renting out the entire theater. He’d done the same thing with the restaurant at dinner. It was a far cry from date nights back in the day when we’d hit the dollar menu at a drive-thru then sneak into a movie with one ticket.

  But such was life with this new, loaded version of Roman. I can’t say it was a bad thing. He’d surprised me that morning with a pair of Jimmy Choos that cost more than my first engagement ring. (Not my second. That thing was a rock.)

  However, this new version of him did come with some downfalls.

  In addition to the heels, he’d also given me a pink Rubicon bulletproof vest to wear.

  I’d attempted one of my typical fits, refusing to wear it. He’d sat on the edge of the bed, grinning at me, his sexy arms folded over his equally sexy chest. Moments later, his hand was in my hair, I was naked, and he was moving inside me while declaring that I would wear it any time I went out of the house.

  Considering I was currently wearing that aforementioned vest under a silky, white blouse and black pencil skirt with the also aforementioned Jimmy Choos, we all know how that conversation ended.

  “Oh hush. That’s the newest model of Rubicon. It’s barely three millimeters thick. You should have seen Simon Wells’s face when I showed up at his office with that batch. I’m most likely the first person in the entire world to get custom body armor made in less than an hour.” He patted his chest, where his T-shirt concealed his own vest.

  He wasn’t wrong. It was thin. And lighter than I’d ever imagined a vest could be. But it was still bulky under my fitted top, and it basically erased my boobs.

  However, the glint of pride in Roman’s eyes as I’d pulled it on made having the figure of a twelve-year-old boy worth it.

  I mean, it wasn’t like we saw anyone else anyway.

  “Where should we sit? This place is packed,” I teased, surveying the empty theater.

  “Smartass,” he chuckled, walking up the steps.

  Pointing with the huge tub of popcorn, he indicated the two seats directly in the middle.

  Once settled, Roman began pulling candy from his pockets.

  He knew me well.

  Or so I’d thought until he handed me a bag of Raisinettes.

  I stared down at the offending candy. “Are you new here?”

  “They were out of M&M’s,” he defended.

  “Um, in what world is Raisinettes the default choice when they’re out of M&Ms? Everyone knows chocolate-covered almonds are the only suitable replacement.”

  “I hate almonds though,” he replied, tossing a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

  I curled my lip in disbelief. “Since when?”

  “Uh…since always.”

  My chin jerked back. “What the hell are you talking about? You love my almond chicken.”

  He chuckled. “No, I love your chicken. I pick the nasty almond pieces off.”

  “Seriously?”

  He glanced over at me and lifted the soda to his lips, a smile curling the corners of his mouth as he took a sip from the straw. He swallowed and then confirmed, “Seriously.”

  My jaw slacked open. “No way. You’re screwing with me, right?”

  He barked a laugh. “I can’t believe you didn’t know this. I pick them out of the trail mix and everything.”

  I gasped. “Oh my God. I thought you did that because you knew I loved them and wanted to leave them for me. I always thought it was so romantic.”

  He laughed, quickly covering it with a cough. “Right. I mean. That’s exactly why I do it.”

  I leaned back in the chair and waved him off. “Oh, don’t even try that now. It’s like I don’t know you at all. I’m married to a stranger.”

  “Well, actually, you’re not married to anyone. But we’ve got to get that shit fixed soon. It’s fucking killing me.” He offered the candy my way again.

  “I don’t think now’s the best time for a wedding,” I replied, begrudgingly taking the bag of Raisinettes.

  “You want another wedding?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe like a destination thing or something,” I mumbled absentmindedly when something hit me. “Wait, do you like olives?”

  He swayed his head from side to side and then grinned tightly. “Yes.”

  “Oh my God, you don’t!”

  He laughed loudly. “Not at all.”

  “I find not one thing funny here, Roman. You do realize you’ve been lying to me for our entire relationship.”

  Still laughing, he set the popcorn on the seat beside him and moved the drink from the cup holder between us. Throwing his arm around me, he soothed me with, “All right. Simmer down. I haven’t been lying to you our entire relationship. I don’t like almonds, or olives, or salmon.”

  I gasped, thoroughly affronted by that little addition.

  He didn’t seem concerned with my affronting and kept talking. “But you do. You hate red sauce, and just last night you made me lasagna. We both make compromises. That is not a bad thing. I can pick off olives and almonds and choke down salmon once in a while because I know you’d do the same for me. Now, chill out, eat the damn Raisinettes, and then give your man a dark movie theater hand-job.”

  A laugh bubbled up my throat, and I threw a hand out to slap his chest.

  “What?” He feigned innocence. “It’s a compromise, Lis.”

  “How is a movie theater hand-job a compromise?”

  He crinkled his forehead. “Um, because I really want a dark movie theater blow job but I paid to rent out the entire theater because I know you’ve been wanting to see this movie. At least, with a hand-job, you can still watch.”

  I giggled, but he caught my hand and guided it down into his lap, letting me know just how serious he was.

  “Annnd on that note, I need to go to the restroom before the movie starts.”

  He groaned and dropped his head back against the chair. “Fine. But hurry back, I hear Hemsworth takes his shirt off in the first five minutes. I’m hoping that will get you in the mood.”

  I stood up and stared into those silver eyes that had stolen my heart. Bending over, I dragged a seductive finger down his chest and murmured, “Hemsworth has nothing on you.” I kissed him, deep and wet. And, as I righted myself, I taunted him with, “However, if this were a Channing Tatum movie…”

  He swatted my butt. “Smartass.”

  I giggled and jogged down the stairs, but I did it contemplating how one gives a movie theater hand-job without staff or security seeing it.

  When I got to the door, Ethan was waiting
for me.

  “Restroom?” I asked.

  “Right there,” he said, pointing his finger just across the hall.

  Two minutes later, the novelty of an empty theater restroom had me giddy as I took my time drying my hands in the air blower.

  Just as it turned off, I heard the bathroom door close.

  “Roman?” I called, smiling when I lifted my head.

  But it wasn’t Roman.

  Or Ethan.

  A man I’d never actually met but would have recognized anywhere emerged from around the corner.

  Panic blasted through me, but I’d barely gotten a scream out before his hand landed over my mouth.

  And then I was silenced completely when he slammed me to the floor, his body landing hard on top of me, stealing the breath from my lungs.

  His disgusting lips brushed my ear. “Hello, Elisabeth. So nice to finally meet you.”

  The feeling was not mutual. I could have lived a thousand lifetimes without meeting Walter Noir.

  “Let me go!” I yelled, fighting against him, but he kept me pinned to the tile floor.

  The tip of his gun pressed into my temple as he snarled, “Shut the fuck up.”

  I froze immediately, blood thundering in my ears.

  “Good girl.” His hand landed on the back of my head, where he fisted it, wrenching my head to a painfully unnatural angle. He leaned into my face, spit spraying from his mouth as he seethed, “I want my wife back!”

  “I don’t know where she is,” I cried.

  He tsked his tongue against his teeth as he furrowed his brow. “Now, that’s just not true. She was at your house when you left, right?” The butt of his gun slammed down on my nose.

  My vision blurred from the explosion of pain.

  “Don’t fucking lie to me!” He released me and pushed to his feet.

  But I was helpless to try to get away. I rolled to my back, barely able to remain conscious.

  “How’s my daughter?” He laughed maniacally, squatting in front of me. “Or should I say our daughter. We did make a beautiful girl, didn’t we?” He ran his gun down the side of my face.

  A shiver shot down my spine as I struggled to focus. “I don’t know where she is,” I slurred, drunkenly lifting a hand to wipe blood away from my nose as it began to seep up into my eyes.

  “I suggest you figure it out, Elisabeth.”

  His hand drifted down to the hem of my blouse, tugging it up as disgust awakened my senses. I batted his hands away and then scrambled across the floor until my back met a wall.

  He tipped his head to the side, a slow smile pulling at his mouth. “Rubicon?” he asked, pointedly glancing down to the exposed pink vest.

  I didn’t reply as I kicked my feet, trying desperately to get farther away from him with no luck. My body trembled as blood poured from my nose and into my lap.

  “Of course it is.” He laughed. “That ball-less son of a bitch has proven himself to be somewhat of a successful businessman. Trust me. I was just as shocked as you were.”

  I remained silent as he began to pace the length of the bathroom.

  “You know, when I paid that doctor to give me your egg, I lucked out that you resembled Clare. The truth is I picked you because I’d heard your husband was broke and worthless. I was doing you a goddamn favor.” He stopped and covered his heart with his gun. “I was brokenhearted to hear about our son’s passing.”

  “No,” I croaked, acid burning in my stomach. “He wasn’t—”

  “He was.” He grinned proudly. “I always wanted a son, you know?” Suddenly, he swung his gun wide and leveled it on me. “But I’ll settle for Tessa. Tell Light he has twenty-four hours to return my family or, the next time, I aim higher.”

  “No. No. No!” I yelled, throwing a hand out as though I could stop him.

  His sinister smile grew impossibly wide just before I felt the agonizing crush of my chest caving in.

  The deafening sound of the gun’s explosion barely registered before the lights went out completely.

  It could have been a second. It could have been a millennium. But, sometime later, I awoke to Roman’s pained roar.

  “Elisabeth.”

  Through slitted eyes, I saw him drop to his knees beside me. He then jostled my limp body until I was flat on my back.

  “Call nine-one-one!” he screamed in a voice so agonizing that I didn’t even recognize it as my husband’s.

  Though, as my sluggish eyes focused on his face, I didn’t recognize my strong man, either. His face was pale and contorted as though he were in the final stage of death.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, raising a shaky hand to his jaw.

  He frantically patted my neck and my chest down and then shoved my shirt up to do the same on my vest. “Oh, thank you, God,” he cried in relief as I heard the ping of something metal hit the tile. “Okay. Hang tight, baby. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  “It was Noir,” I whispered. Even the simple act of talking was painful.

  His wild gaze landed on mine. “I know. But I’ve got you now.”

  “You need to get Tessa and Clare somewhere safe. He…he wants them back.”

  “Okay, baby. Calm down and breathe. I’ll get word to Light.”

  I closed my lids and forced the words from my throat. “He said Tripp was his.”

  “Shhh. He was ours. Don’t worry about the rest of it right now. Just hold on. I’m gonna get you to a hospital.” He lifted my upper body and tucked my face into his neck.

  The movement was unbearable, and the mixture of overwhelming pain and the comfort of knowing that he was there with me had me drifting into the darkness once again.

  I perched on the edge of the bed as Heath paced a path in the carpet of his bedroom. His phone was at his ear, and a barrage of curse words streamed from his lips.

  “And you decided using the APD to secure the movie theater was your best option?” he roared. “Jesus Christ, you might as well have just sent Noir an invitation.” He paused and raked an angry hand through his hair. “Bullshit. A man dying and Elisabeth Leblanc getting shot is absolutely my problem.”

  My stomach rolled as a wave of nausea hit me.

  Heath and I had been celebrating my latest Wheel of Fortune victory by cooking together. Tessa had crashed out hours earlier, and I had been admiring Heath’s bare feet and shirtless chest as he’d flipped pork chops in a frying pan when Alex and a swarm of DEA agents had stormed in and forced us upstairs.

  I’d panicked, fearing the worst.

  But I’d never expected that the worst could actually be worse than I feared.

  Ethan was dead, and we were still waiting on an update with Elisabeth’s condition. The last thing we’d heard was that she was being rushed to the hospital with a possible gunshot wound in her chest.

  Walt had finally come out of hiding.

  And he was back with a vengeance.

  At this news, I hadn’t fallen apart.

  I hadn’t cried.

  I hadn’t even gotten pissed.

  They were all worthless emotions that would change nothing.

  And, right then, I’d desperately needed someone to change everything.

  So, with my ears ringing and numbness cloaking my body, I’d settled on the edge of the bed and tried to make sense of a senseless situation.

  “Oh thank fuck!” Heath barked. “She was wearing the vest.”

  I closed my eyes, my chin falling to my chest as a surge of relief inundated me.

  “Clare? You hear me?”

  “I heard you, honey,” I whispered, doing my best to keep it together. But, as my shoulders shook and my breath shuddered, I failed.

  “Yeah. Have Leblanc call me when you can. I gotta go.”

  The space beside me on the bed sank, Heath’s blanket of warmth surrounding me.

  “It’s okay, babe. Let it out.”

  “I hate him,” I told his chest as I face-planted against it.

  “I know. I do, too.”


  I perked my head up so I could see him. “No, Heath. I hate him. And I hate myself too, because if it weren’t for me, none of this would have happened.”

  He frowned. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “No. It’s not. But Elisabeth was only on his radar because of me.”

  “Bullshit. Elisabeth was on his radar because he’s a whack-job who stole her eggs and played God so he could have a kid.”

  I shot to my feet. “Because I couldn’t give him that!”

  His eyebrows furrowed. “Do not go down this road. Do not take his actions on your conscience. You didn’t shoot them, Clare. And you know good and damn well not a single person involved in this situation blames you for any of it. So don’t fucking start.”

  I aimed my gaze over his shoulder. He was right, and deep down, I knew that none of it was my fault, but guilt was a real bitch like that.

  I opened my mouth to tell him that I hated his sensible answers, but his phone vibrated in his hand. He immediately put it to his ear while lifting a single finger in my direction.

  “Roman? Shit. Yeah, we’re good. What the hell is going on over there?”

  I leaned into his side to hear what Roman was saying, and Heath caught the hint and put him on speakerphone.

  My heart ached as Roman painfully recounted finding Ethan in the hall then finding Elisabeth unconscious on the bathroom floor with a bullet hole in her shirt and blood covering her face and chest. The devastation in his voice was tangible, and it slashed through me.

  Before I knew it, Heath had scooped me up and set me in his lap. His strong hand smoothed up and down my back.

  My body was nearly vibrating as I struggled to hold my rage back.

  There were no words to adequately express the loathing and detest I felt for Walt.

  “So, is she okay?” Heath finally asked when Roman quieted.

  “Doctors are gluing the gash on her nose. She’s got two cracked ribs from the bullet, but thank fuck she was wearing that vest.”

  Heath grunted his approval then pressed his lips to my temple.

  “Listen,” Roman started. “Can Clare hear me?”

  Heath’s gaze bounced to mine. “Uh, yeah. She’s right here.”

 

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