The Complete Retrieval Duet

by Martinez, Aly

  Bile crawled up the back of my throat as his lips swept across mine. “Lie down. I’ll get you some ice.”

  I held my breath as I seductively trailed my fingers down his arm to the gun held tightly in his palm. “Here. Give me this and I’ll keep an eye on Elisabeth.”

  He chuckled and opened his hand.

  I kept the surprise hidden from my face, but hope slammed in my chest as I reached for the gun.

  And then I froze when his hand shifted from my jaw down to my throat. He gripped impossibly tight, cutting my air off. Panic tore through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. It was the only way to stay alive.

  Guiding me with my neck, he walked me backward until I hit the wall. My lungs burned and my vision started to tunnel, but I didn’t fight. I remained perfectly still as he brushed his nose with mine, whispering against my lips, “I love you, Clare. But don’t press your luck. I’m not oblivious to your games. I just happen to like playing them with you.”

  He studied my eyes, but I showed him nothing. And, after a few beats, a filthy grin pulled at his lips. He slammed my shoulders against the wall one last time before finally releasing me.

  My legs had become weak, and I folded over, resting my hands on my knees as I gasped for air.

  He stroked the top of my head and ordered, “Sit your ass on the bed. And don’t even think about pulling any of your bullshit.”

  I kept my head down as I watched his feet disappear. He kicked Marco’s lifeless body all the way into the room before closing the door.

  As soon as it clicked behind him, I moved. And I did it fast. “Stop crying. You’re making it worse. He’s a leech who thrives on the fear,” I whispered to Elisabeth as I began searching the room.

  I hadn’t been to that particular house in a while, but everything looked the same as it always had. Walt’s desk sat in the corner, covered by paperwork and a laptop that reminded me more of an attorney’s than a drug dealer’s. I snatched the drawers open, but they were completely empty.

  “What are you doing?” Elisabeth asked, climbing to her feet.

  “I need a weapon. Help me look,” I said, moving to the nightstand, but that drawer was empty too. “Shit.”

  “Clare, no,” she pleaded. “Don’t be the hero here. Let’s wait. The guys have to know we’re missing by now.”

  “Maybe. But that’s not going to end well for any of us,” I said, continuing to search the room. “I can keep us alive. But, if they show up, I can’t promise the same for them.”

  “You can’t do this,” she begged. “Please just think about Tessa.”

  Oh, but I was. She had been living that life right alongside me.

  I was going to end it for both of us.

  Suddenly, I stopped as my gaze landed on the bed.

  That room was exactly the same. Time hadn’t touched it at all. Same bedspread. Same pillowcases. Same sheets.

  Everything was just as I’d left it.

  Everything.

  Every. Thing.

  I sucked in a deep breath and lifted the watch Heath had given me to my lips.

  Closing my eyes, I conjured up images of Heath and Tessa playing in the backyard. There was a dog we didn’t yet have racing around and barking as I stood on the deck, my stomach swollen with life, a content smile on my face, and a peace I had never experienced filling my heart.

  Free of fear.

  Free of pain.

  Forever.

  Kissing 11:11, I made the very last wish I’d hopefully ever need.

  My heart pounded in my ears as I reached under the edge of the mattress.

  By the time Roman and I arrived at Noir’s hideout, federal agents had it surrounded. Marco’s patrol car was parked in the driveway beside a shiny, black BMW that I assumed was Noir’s.

  “Talk to me,” I barked at Tomlinson, crouching next to him behind a black SUV.

  “From what we can tell, both of the women are still alive. We have two distinct movements in the south bedroom and another in the kitchen. However, our concern is it seems to be only one male. We’re trying to get eyes on the inside to see if it’s Marco or Noir.”

  Dread pooled in my gut. “Son of a bitch,” I bit out. “If it’s Noir, you’re going to try to take him alive, aren’t you?”

  “We need him, Light.”

  “You have got to be shitting me. You’re gonna play this out and send in a fucking negotiator while he’s holding two innocent women?”

  “I will repeat: We need him alive, Light. What the fuck are you even doing here? I told Leblanc not to show up here.”

  I didn’t even humor him with an answer. I pushed to my feet and drew my weapon. “I’m going in.”

  “The fuck you are!” he shouted back, catching my arm in an attempt to drag me back down.

  “Get the fuck off me.” I snatched my arm away, and then we were suddenly interrupted.

  A woman’s scream rang through the air.

  My entire body went taut. “Let me go!” I roared.

  “We’ve got activity inside!” an agent yelled. “It’s coming our way.”

  “Don’t do this, Light. Do not fucking do this,” Tomlinson begged as chaos broke out around us.

  At least a dozen agents took cover, locked and loaded, all aimed at the door.

  Time stood still as that front door swung open.

  I held my breath, shamefully hoping for Clare to appear.

  A frantic, blood-covered woman ran out.

  But she wasn’t mine.

  “Elisabeth!” Roman yelled, taking off at a dead sprint after having shoved his way through the line of agents.

  “Help her!” she cried, flying into his arms. “Please. Oh God. Help her.”

  My feet were moving before my mind could even process the dangers on the other side. Clare was in there. Nothing could stop me.

  Not Tomlinson. Not the DEA. And sure as fuck not Noir.

  I battled the urge to call her name as I made it into the house but thought better of announcing my presence.

  I held my breath as I cleared the den before making my way through the house, toward the south bedroom.

  And, as I turned the corner, my gun drawn and extended out in front of me, nothing could have prepared me for the scene in front of me.

  Blood.

  Entire fucking oceans of it covering the floor.

  Please. God.

  My hands tensed around my gun, her words from weeks ago replaying in my mind. “You’re going to have to trust me.” And that trust was the only thing that kept my knees from buckling right then and there.

  I stepped over Marco’s body as I cautiously crept inside. Motion from the other side of the bed had me swinging my gun.

  “Oh fuck,” I choked.

  I was vaguely aware of agents flooding in behind me. Mumbled curses filled the air as they took in the massacre around us.

  However, I saw but one person.

  She was kneeling beside Noir’s body. Covered head to toe in blood. A knife in her hand. Her feral eyes locked on me as she tracked my movement.

  It was a sight straight out of a horror movie.

  And still somehow the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  She was alive.

  Still breathing.

  Still mine.

  Still…

  “Clare,” I said gently, squatting several feet away and bringing us to eye level. “I’m here, babe. Tell me what you need.”

  She blinked and then opened her hand, sending the knife clattering to the floor. “I couldn’t let him ruin our future.”

  “I know, babe. Come here.”

  She shook her head and flashed her wild eyes down at the blood covering her chest and her arms. “This isn’t who I am. I’m…I’m not him. I just…” She looked back up. “He was never going to stop.”

  I kept my gun aimed at Noir’s motionless body. Despite the massive amounts of blood pooling around him, I didn’t trust that he was really gone.

  “Clare, I know wh
o you are,” I replied, curling two fingers in her direction. “Come here.”

  “It’s just—”

  “Clare,” I growled. “Listen to me. Everything is going to be okay. But I need you to come on over here and step away from him. Just in case.”

  She drew in a shuddered breath and rose to her feet. Emotionlessly, she stepped over his legs as she walked toward me.

  I stood to my full height and opened my arms in an offer she had never refused. This time was no different. Plastering herself to my front, she hugged me tighter than ever before.

  She remained completely collected as she asked, “Tessa?”

  “She’s fine.”

  Her voice remained steady as she pleaded, “Tell me it’s over.”

  “It’s over, Clare,” I vowed, tucking my gun away as agents got their hands on Noir.

  The tears finally appeared on her red-streaked face as she struggled with trembling hands to undo the watch I’d given her for Christmas.

  Holding my gaze, she dropped it onto the floor. “That’s what I wished for.”

  My arms spasmed around her, and emotion lodged in my throat.

  “I want to go home, Heath.”

  Without words, I bent down, caught her at the backs of the legs, and lifted her into my arms. “Whatever you need,” I replied as I carried her away from Noir for the very last time.

  When we arrived at the hospital, Heath carried me straight into an unused room and flipped the shower on. Methodically, he removed every piece of my blood-soaked clothing and dropped them into a nearby trash can before tying the bag up and tossing it in the hall. I wasn’t sure if the police wanted them as evidence or if he couldn’t get the remnants of Walter Noir far enough away from us.

  “Am I going to be in trouble?” I asked as he climbed into the shower with me.

  “No,” he replied without expounding.

  But that was enough for me. I trusted him.

  As water poured over us and red circled in the drain, Heath held me. However, in a lot of ways, I was holding him. He was visibly distraught. His hands repeatedly traced and washed every inch of my body, but there was not one thing sexual about that shower. He was struggling, and if a quiet shower where he convinced himself that I really was okay was what he needed, I’d give it to him.

  When I was finally clean, he dropped his forehead to mine and breathed, “Jesus, Clare.”

  “Are you going to ask me what happened?” I asked, looping my arms around his hips.

  “No. You’re standing here with me and he’s dead. I don’t need anything else.”

  I swallowed hard. It was important to me that he knew. He’d eventually get curious. Maybe he’d assume the worst of me. Maybe the best. Neither would be accurate. Though, knowing Heath, he’d never ask for fear of upsetting me.

  “I think I want to tell you,” I admitted.

  He curled his hand around the back of my neck and leveled his gaze on mine. “Then I’m gonna listen.”

  I nodded and took a minute to rinse my hair while gathering my nerves. “I used to sleep with a knife under my mattress. I remembered it when he left the room to get me some ice for my face.”

  He closed his eyes and tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, his hands tensing at my hips.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I asked in a whisper.

  He turned his sad, blue gaze back to mine. “What I want is for you to have never been in that house with him.”

  I slid my hands up his chest. “Me too. But I’m okay, honey.”

  His eyebrows pinched together. “Are you? I mean…are you really?”

  I wasn’t. But I knew I would be. And the promise of that was more than I’d had in years.

  I found the bar of soap and lathered it in my hands before setting it aside. Silently, I went to work cleansing his hard planes and straining muscles of the blood I’d transferred all over him.

  When he was finally clean, I found the courage to continue. “I asked him to lie down with me.” I peeked up at him through my lashes. “And, when he turned to set his gun down on the nightstand, I stabbed him in the neck and screamed for Elisabeth to run.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared down at me—despair marring his handsome face.

  “He struggled at first, gurgling blood as he fought to get the knife.” My voice broke.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered.

  I shook my head, needing him to hear me. “I don’t know how many times I stabbed him. I couldn’t stop until he was dead. Even if the police had swarmed in to arrest him, I would never have been able to escape if he was still alive.” My voice hitched. “I couldn’t stop. I would have been stuck in that house, living under the weight of his captivity, for the rest of my life regardless of if I got out or not. I needed him dead. And, honestly, I’m afraid of what that says about me as a person.”

  He blew out a ragged breath and cupped each side of my face. “It’s okay to be confused about this right now. You’ve been through a lot. And we’re gonna get you someone to talk to who can help you through this.” Tipping my head back, he swept his lips across mine. “But you need to hear me now and really take this shit in. You did what you had to do in order to survive. And, as pissed off as I am about you taking that risk, deep down, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

  My breathing shuddered. “You’re proud of me for killing a man?”

  Palming the back of my head, he tucked my face into his neck. “No, Clare. I’m proud of you for being strong enough to bring my woman home to me when I couldn’t.”

  My nails dug into his shoulder as I murmured a sad, “Heath.”

  “Shhh. That’s enough talking for now. We need to get out of here and let a doctor check you over. While they’re doing that, I’ll give Devon a call and have him bring Tessa up.”

  My whole body sagged in his arms. “That sounds amazing.”

  He stood there for several beats before saying, “You gotta let me go, babe.”

  “I know,” I said without releasing him.

  And then Heath being Heath muttered, “Whenever you’re ready.” And then stood in the water that was starting to chill for at least another five minutes.

  “I said back the fuck up,” Heath growled.

  Lifting his hands in the air, the young emergency room doctor backed away, his eyes wide. “Sir, it’s just a sedative,” he defended.

  Heath took another angry step toward him. “Yeah. And she said she doesn’t want it.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I’d said, but I figured he was paraphrasing.

  I wasn’t scared of needles, and I desperately needed something to help slow my racing heart, but I’d yet to mention that I was pregnant to anyone.

  And weren’t we a fucking pair, because the second I lost my shit, Heath lost his too.

  Only my shit had been clawing up the bed, repeating, “Wait, wait, wait.”

  Heath’s was much scarier.

  “Do not make me repeat myself,” he snarled, taking another step forward.

  I grabbed Heath’s arm. “Okay, let’s just take a deep breath.” I turned my gaze to the doctor. “Can I have a minute alone with my…um…guy?”

  “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He pocketed the shot as he headed for the door, peering over his shoulder as if he were afraid Heath was going to attack him from behind.

  And, as I looked back up at Heath, I understood the man’s fear.

  “Honey,” I purred, tugging on his arm.

  His irate gaze jumped to mine.

  “Breathe. There’s no reason to be upset.”

  “Bullshit. I’m pretty sure the word wait means the same as it always has. You don’t want that medicine—he does not get to continue. Plain and simple.”

  I grinned and scooted over in the bed. “It’s just—” Shit. Why is this so hard? “Come here, Heath. We need to talk.”

  He folded his tense body to sit on the edge of the bed and stared at me expectantly.

  But I said not a
single word.

  I could have danced around this conversation for nine months. Part of me was nervous to tell him. Part was excited for him to know. Part was terrified that there was nothing to know.

  “What do you need, Clare?” he whispered when I started chewing on my thumbnail.

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted.

  His already tense shoulders turned to stone. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I’m pregnant. Well, at least I was this morning.”

  His face paled. “How…how do you know?”

  I wrung my hands in my lap. “I ordered a test on Amazon. Also, coincidentally, I stole your credit card to buy a test on Amazon.”

  “But we used protection,” he argued.

  “Except for those couple of times in the shower. And I’m pretty sure that still counts.”

  He shot to his feet. “Oh, Jesus.”

  “Heath, it’s okay. We don’t even know if it will stick.”

  He began to pace. With one hand on his hip, he raked the other through his hair, repeating, “Oh, Jesus. That’s not better.”

  Oh shit. So maybe Heath didn’t share my excitement about us having made a baby in love. I guessed it was pretty quick for us to be starting a family. And I had just killed my husband after having been kidnapped.

  Okay, so it was definitely bad timing.

  “With my history…it’s probably nothing.”

  He stopped and blinked at me. “Probably nothing?”

  “I just mean, I’ve never gotten pregnant without medical intervention. Maybe the tests were wrong.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “Tests? How many did you take?”

  “Well, they came in a two-pack. So….” I bit my lip and squeaked around it, “two.”

  He gripped the back of his neck.

  And, just as I decided to crawl under the blankets and never show my face again, he boomed, “That motherfucker. Took my woman while she was pregnant with my baby!”

  Alex came barreling in the room. “Everything good?” he asked, surveying the otherwise empty room.

  Heath stormed past him and out the door. “Yep. I’m just about to light a body from the morgue on fire.”

  “Heath, stop!” I scrambled after him. “Stop him,” I told Alex.