They were in the middle of a damn crime scene, officers collecting evidence and making arrests around them, but seeing as how that was exactly how he and Shea had met, the location for this conversation couldn’t be more perfect.
“Vincent, I don’t care about you or your team having access to that damn report. I was surprised, angry, and yeah, I felt betrayed you’d kept the truth from me, but...” Shea closed her eyes, spotlights deepened the shadows under her eyes, and his gut clenched. She shook her head, then lifted that beautiful green gaze to his. “I just... I wanted you to keep believing that I was the woman you admired back in that ranger station, the one you’d requested as your partner all those months ago, and I was worried once you discovered the truth, you wouldn’t feel that way about me anymore. So many people have walked out of my life because they didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I didn’t want to lose you, too.”
His heart pounded loud behind his ears. He tried to process her words, over and over in the span of a few short seconds, but shock still coursed through him. The pain in his leg and shoulder, the controlled chaos going on around them, it all disappeared. Until there was only her. Vincent threaded his fingers through her hair. “You’re never going to lose me, Shea. I might not understand what you’re going through, but I’ll do whatever it takes to find out. I’m going to be there for you. I’ll go to doctors’ appointments, I’ll watch Wells when you need a break, I’ll cook for you and talk you through your cases. However you need me, I’ll be there.” He trailed a path down her forearm and slipped his hand into hers. “And if that means Kate was right, that you’re not in a position to love me back, I’ll respect that. I just want you to be happy.”
“Really?” Tears welled in her lower lash line as he nodded. She swiped her tongue across her lips, and she dropped her attention to his T-shirt. A distraction. “You said you wanted to make babies with me, but I don’t know if I can do that, Vincent. I don’t think I can go through what happened to me after I had Wells again.”
“I know,” he said. “So we’ll adopt if we decide we want those babies. We’ll babysit Katrina and Hunter and Kate and Glennon’s babies when they get here. We’ll have Wells when he’s not with Logan, and I will still be the happiest man on this planet because I’ll be doing it all with you.”
The shadows in her eyes dissipated, and his heart jerked in his chest. “Partners?”
“For the rest of our lives.” He pushed wet hair behind her ear.
“That would make me happy.” Stepping into him, she set her ear over his heart. Right where she belonged.
“Wells?” Logan Ramsey’s voice penetrated through the bubble he and Shea had created in the middle of the crime scene, bringing them back to reality. Shea’s ex-husband and his new wife pushed past the perimeter, but Anthony Harris cut them off before they got anywhere close. “Wells!”
“The court date.” Her eyes widened, and she fisted his shirt with her unbroken fingers with one hand as she clutched her son with the other. “Vincent, I missed the custody hearing. Logan is going to make sure I never see Wells after this. He’s going to take my son away. Maybe for good.” Closing her eyes, she smoothed her lips against Wells’s forehead, and a sudden calmness unlike anything he’d experienced came over her. She opened her eyes. “But I can’t keep him from his father, either. I’ve lived through that, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even Logan.” Shea maneuvered around him, but Vincent wasn’t far behind. “It’s okay, Anthony. I’ve got this.”
Vincent nodded at the weapons expert in appreciation as arresting officers hauled Lieutenant Lara Richards to her feet. Blazing blue eyes locked on him before his former commanding officer—and what was left of her crew—was forced into the back of NYPD squad cars. Corruption of justice, murder, attempted murder. The district attorney was going to make himself a hell of a career out of this one. Reaching into his pocket, Vincent pulled the bullet casing he’d recovered and handed it off to one of the officers searching the scene. They were going to need it, and in a few months, Vincent would have to come back to New York City to testify. She’d gone after Shea, after her son, and nearly killed him. He’d make sure the lieutenant got everything coming her way. With Shea, his partner, at his side.
* * *
VINCENT SMOOTHED HIS hand across her lower back, but nothing would help her process her ex-husband’s words any better. Not even him.
“What do you mean? I came all the way to New York for the hearing.” The hollowness she’d fought back for so long threatened to consume her, and she could only hold on to Wells tighter. If this was another way for her ex-husband to get back at her, to punish her even more... “Now you’re telling me you’ve already talked to the judge? Logan, please, I know things haven’t been easy between us. I wasn’t there when you both needed me, but we can work this out—”
“A team of armed men showed up at the house claiming they worked for some security company, told us we were in danger and whisked us away to a safe house, Shea. Then a bomb exploded in front of us, and a bunch of cops took our son out of my arms. They kidnapped him because of something you got him involved in.” Logan Ramsey reached for Wells, and it took everything in her power to hold back. She’d meant what she’d said to Vincent. She wouldn’t keep Wells from his father. Her son deserved better than that. He deserved to be happy, and if that meant she couldn’t be involved in his life, she’d have to live with that. Logan’s new wife slid her hand across his shoulders, and the tension seemed to drain out of the man she’d once planned on spending the rest of her life with. “But the men you sent to protect us, Bennett and Anthony, they told us what you did. They told us you were taking on an entire organization of corrupt police officers to make sure we would be safe. So yes, I talked to the judge about custody. Since I’m his legal guardian, I had him approve a new custody agreement while you were searching for our son.” Logan pulled a white envelope from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to her. “It goes into effect immediately.”
Her hand shook as she took the thick envelope. Vincent pulled her into his side, the only thing keeping her on her feet. She unfolded the documents, tried to read the small print, but it took a few tries before everything became clear. A flood of surprise rocketed through her, her knees threatening to collapse right out from under her. “You...” She looked up at her ex-husband for confirmation. “You’re giving me equal custody?”
“After everything you’ve done for Wells, after hearing how far you went to protect him, I realized you’re not the same woman you were when we left Anchorage. You’ve changed. You seem...better. Stronger than before.” With a glance toward Vincent, Logan switched their son to his other arm and pulled his wife to his side. “I want Wells to grow up knowing both his parents love him. Even if they’re not together. We want you to see him as much as you can. Here in New York or in Anchorage. We can work out the details later. I just needed you to know.”
She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Vincent’s hand at her back warmed her straight to the core, and for the first time in so long she was...happy. She’d found love with the man who’d saved her life and had a strong future in line for her son. “Thank you.”
With a final nod, Logan Ramsey, Wells and his wife were escorted toward a police cruiser that would most likely take them straight home. After living through the chaos of the last few days, she couldn’t blame them for not sticking around. Every cell in her entire body wanted to collapse into bed and try to forget the feeling of almost losing her son, the panic. Of almost losing her partner.
“Let’s get those thumbs looked at.” Vincent led her toward one of the many ambulances parked outside the perimeter of the scene as police worked to clean up Lieutenant Richards’s mess. Dozens of bodies littered the ground from an apparent shoot-out, but the Blackhawk Security team—Sullivan, Elizabeth, Kate, Elliot, Glennon, Anthony—looked as though they’d pulled through. Leaning against their vehicles, the
y watched as NYPD processed the scene.
Whatever they’d done, however many laws they’d broken in the process, she owed them her gratitude. She let EMTs examine her thumbs and the back of her head where Lara had struck her, all the while trying to keep Vincent from lunging when she groaned from them resetting the bones. As the investigating officers took their statements, Shea couldn’t keep herself from touching him as he settled beside her on the back of the ambulance. Just as she’d done in that cave after their plane had gone down. She’d known then she’d fall for him, this intense, protective and thoughtful man. It was inevitable, but she had the feeling it wouldn’t end here. It’d be the forever kind of fall. The investigating officer returned to processing his scene, and Shea rested her head against Vincent’s shoulder.
“Well, we managed to bring down an entire organization of corrupt cops and solve five cold cases, Officer Ramsey. I’d say we make a pretty great team when we get along.” His mouth pressed against the top of her head, his warm breath fighting to chase back the bone-deep cold of the river. He slid his hand up her throat and tipped her head back. He closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth to hers, and everything around them disappeared. The red and blue patrol lights, the fact that his team stood nearby, the crime scene techs. None of it mattered right then. He pulled back enough to speak against her lips. “So does this mean we get to keep working joint investigations together when we get back to Anchorage?”
She couldn’t help but smile at the idea. He was right. They did make a great team, and she couldn’t wait to see what kinds of investigations they’d be partnered on next. Over the course of the last few days he’d become more than her partner. He’d become her protector, her everything. “Not if it means spending nights in caves, outrunning avalanches or nearly drowning in the back of a van.”
“I think we’ll survive.” Vincent’s laugh rumbled through her before he kissed her again. “Somehow we always do.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Marine Protector by Julie Anne Lindsey.
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Marine Protector
by Julie Anne Lindsey
Chapter One
Rivulets of sweat ran down Lyndy Wells’s temples and between her shoulder blades as she trekked back in the direction of her car, having completed another hefty evening walk. Toting thirty extra pounds was enough to make anyone sweat, but coupled with the uncomfortable weight of winter boots and her wool maternity coat, the act was exhausting. Not only did she have fifteen pounds of baby weight left to lose, she had the baby himself strapped to her chest in a snowsuit and carrier she’d initially suspected might require three engineers and a rocket scientist just to put on.
Gus was already five months old, and the pressure was on to lose those unwanted pounds. It was late in the season, and before long, the snow would come to her northern Kentucky town. Then her evening walks would go from tolerably chilly to downright impossible. Until then, she’d keep doing her best to take eight thousand steps a day, or as many as possible while carrying her son. At the moment she just wanted to get to her car, collapse behind the wheel and gulp the spare bottle of water she kept in the console.
She paused near the lake to bend and lift each rubbery leg, hoping to alleviate the growing burn in her hamstrings and catch her breath. A smattering of dried leaves skated across the still water where ducks and moms with bread-bag-wielding toddlers had gathered regularly on summer evenings. The ducks still made an appearance, but the families rarely did. The days were too short now, and Lyndy imagined most folks had fallen into a new evening routine. Unlike her. Gus was sound asleep against her chest now, as he normally was by this portion of the workout, but he was sure to be wide-awake when they got home. Just in time to make it impossible for her to shower right away.
The sun was low on the horizon as Lyndy settled into a slower, cool-down pace, the apricot and amber sky quickly giving way to twilight. Unfortunately, the same mountain shade she’d savored in the late summer afternoons resembled an ominous cover by dinnertime these days. She frequently imagined coyotes or bobcats creeping out from behind her car as she strapped Gus into his rear-facing car seat with complicated five-point safety harness. Another baby item probably designed by NASA.
She rubbed Gus’s back as she pushed on, only to stop a few steps further when the tiny hairs along her neck rose with the breeze. Her intuition spiked a silent warning, but there was nothing and no one in sight to be wary of. She picked up her pace anyway, filled with renewed motivation to reach the safety of her car. The strange, nearly indescribable sensation plucked her already tightened skin, insisting something was simply wrong, and her gut pinched and flipped with every step.
She crossed the little wooden bridge from the park’s walking path to the parking lot at a clip, already unearthing her keys and beeping the doors unlocked. Her headlights flashed on in response, adding a mixture of light and new shadows to her world.
“Almost there,” she whispered, as much an encouragement to Gus as to herself. “A few more steps and we’ll be locked in tight.” The muscles along her neck and shoulders bunched, and her heart climbed as she came within steps of the car.
The wind blew again, and a strange scent caught Lyndy’s nose. Not floral. Not natural. She couldn’t name it. Couldn’t place it, and it only alarmed her further. Not cologne. Not perfume. She broke into a jog, fear running its icy fingers along her spine and into her sweaty hair.
Her heavy breaths and footfalls stirred the baby on her chest. “Shh,” she cooed. “Shh. Shh. Shh. It’s okay. Mama’s got you.”
Finally, Lyndy wrapped panicked and trembling fingers around the handle of her car door, and for one brief heartbeat, they were safe.
Then her head jerked back with the force of a bull. Long, angry fingers clamped over her mouth and curled deep into the hair at the base of her neck. A scream locked in her throat, strangled silent by terror. The car keys clattered at her feet.
Confusion crushed every thought in Lyndy’s head. Her fight-or-flight response was set to flight, and she cradled her baby with both arms, attempting to change their backward momentum and break free.
Gus struggled in his coat and carrier, a tiny whimper of complaint breaking free.
Lyndy dug her heels into the ground, but the hand only yanked her back again, harder, dragging her away from the lot. Her feet twisted and faltered beneath her. She flailed one arm for balance, while the other attempted to hold Gus tight.
The soul-crushing realization that this was how she would die, alone in a park where children fed ducks and moms pushed strollers, forced the confusion from her mind. She knew with pinpoint clarity that her son would be orphaned, become a foster child, a ward of the state, if he was spared.
If she didn’t fight.
Adrenaline ignited in her veins like electricity on a power-plant fence.
This would not be her end, and it damn sure wouldn’t be her son’s. She let herself go limp, dropping the full weight of her new, heavier body onto the ground.
Lyndy was no longer tired. She was no longer weak or fat or out of shape, or any of the other things she’d cursed herself for on the nightly two-mile walk. She was a mother bear with a cub to defend, and she’d do it or die trying.
Her assailant stumbled beneath the sudden change, and when he loosened his grip on her head to clutch her beneath the arms, Lyndy began to fight. He lifted her off the ground with some effort, pressing her back to his chest once more, this time tightening one forearm across her throat.
She slammed her boot against his shin, then his knee, then his instep. She aimed the point of her
bent elbow into the meat below his ribs, and when his grip loosened again, Lyndy screamed. She gave another hearty thrust of her foot, and a flurry of curses flew from the assailant’s lips.
Lyndy bounded forward, holding tight to her screaming baby and sliding over the wet grass along the lake’s edge. A feral growl erupted behind her, but she wouldn’t look back. She couldn’t process, couldn’t think. Her body had switched its goal from flight to fight, and back again. Now all she could do was run. She fumbled up the little grassy hill, sliding in goose mess and turning her ankles over rocks and sticks. Down to her knees, then up again, away from the danger, away from death, into the street beyond the parking lot where she’d dropped her keys.
Gus’s cries rang in her ears. She had to get him as far away from the man as possible.
The sudden blinding force of headlights trapped her in their glow, and Lyndy threw up her arms to protect her baby from an impact that didn’t come.
Instead, the vehicle stopped. Two front doors cracked open and dark figures climbed out. “Ma’am?” the slow, steady drawl of an unknown man asked, his figure manifesting gradually through bright headlight beams. A savior? Or another assailant? “Are you hurt?” He drew closer, and Lyndy stepped back. The man lifted his palms, and Lyndy recognized the familiar navy blue uniform of an EMT.
The Line of Duty Page 17