“You were right. I was just another mark, easily manipulated because building that foundation from the ground up made me feel valuable, like I was doing something good with my life for once. Calvin must’ve seen me for exactly what I was when we’d met. Desperate. Weak.” Splintered wood bit into her palms. Emotion bubbled past her careful control. “I thought I was doing the right thing protecting Calvin, but that doesn’t excuse the fact I lied to you. So I understand if you want to rethink our agreement concerning our daughter. We can work something out to where you won’t have to see me after this is over—”
“Men like Calvin Dailey are master manipulators, Raleigh—that’s their job. They enjoy hurting people and reaping the rewards of their hard work. No matter how many lives they destroy in the process.” He was speaking from personal experience, and her stomach revolted. He’d lost his mother because of a con man. She could only imagine the thoughts running through his head right then. Hands intertwined, he stared out over the tops of the trees, gaze distant. Stars materialized overhead and added a bit of brightness to the blue of his eyes. He straightened, facing her before closing the small space between them. The length of his body pressed into hers, and she was forced to look up at him. He swiped her hair back from her face, and in an instant, warmth lightninged through her. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve put everyone else’s needs before your own. That’s not weakness, Raleigh. That’s courage, and it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with you a long time ago. We’re going to get through this, but only if we work together. We have to trust each other. No more secrets. No more lies.”
Love? Her mouth parted, directing his attention straight to her lips, and an electrical zing lit up her insides. “You love me?”
“Out of all of that, that’s what you choose to focus on during this conversation?” His smile pulled at something deep inside her as she lifted her arms behind his neck, careful of the wound in his shoulder. His hands dipped to her waist as though he needed her to anchor him right there on the back deck, and Raleigh was more than happy to let him take advantage. His smile disappeared as he settled those bright blue eyes on her. “You’ve been taking care of everyone else your whole life. It’s time to put yourself first, Raleigh. Don’t think about what you want for other people. What do you want? Right now, right here. Tell me what you want.”
“I’ve only wanted one thing my whole life.” Her mouth dried. She’d never admitted this to anyone, never admitted it to herself. Nobody had asked her what she’d wanted before, but her answer had always been there, waiting on the tip of her tongue from the very first foster home she could remember. It’d burned each time she’d reached out to someone, only to be used and discarded all over again, as Calvin was doing now. If there was one lesson she’d learned over the years of constant disregard, it’d been the people she’d cared about the most had always had the ability to do the most damage. Including Beckett. Raleigh trailed a path down his arms with her fingertips, memorizing every valley, every ridge in his build beneath the ridiculous shirt he’d borrowed from Reed’s closet. “All I’ve ever wanted was to feel loved by someone as much as I loved them. To have that connection to another person, to be appreciated without any demands, expectations or manipulations. Not because I served a purpose at that moment in their life or because they have an obligation to me.” A heaviness lifted from her chest, making it easier to breathe as she looked up at him. “Someone to love me...for being me.”
Seconds ticked by, a full minute. Her heartbeat echoed at the base of her skull. She needed him to say something. Anything.
“There’s only one thing I’ve ever wanted from you.” Beckett raised his hand, rough calluses catching on the skin of her jaw as he scorched a path from her earlobe to her chin. Heated sensations battled the cool air slicing through the trees, but a shiver still racked her spine. Not from the temperatures. From him. Always from him. “That’s for you to be happy. No conditions, expectations or demands. After everything you’ve been through in your life, you deserve a happily-ever-after. I don’t care if you’re pregnant with my baby or someone else’s. You’re not an obligation to me, and I want to be the one to give you everything. Every second of every day, I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you, if that’s what you need. Starting now.”
He reached into his back pocket, pulled a piece of folded white paper free and handed it to her.
“What is this?” Confusion flooded through her. Dry corners slipped against her fingertips as she unfolded the single piece of paper and read the first few lines. Her heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest as understanding hit. “This is a letter of resignation from the US Marshals Service. Dated the day after my escape from federal custody.”
Before he’d known she was pregnant.
“I was going to come after you one way or another, Raleigh Wilde,” he said. “Because I’m not finished with you.”
Tears burned in her eyes. Sincerity laced his words and anchored into the familiar sea of blackness she’d held on to inside for so long. From that single point something new chased back the loneliness, the isolation.
Raleigh lifted up onto her toes and brought his mouth level with hers. The slightest graze of his lips sent a rush of frantic sensation through her. His beard tickled the sensitive skin around her chin and cheeks, heightening her five senses to a whole new level. Carefully curated control—the kind she’d always needed to protect herself from becoming too attached to anyone around her—slipped through her fingers as he dug his hands into her lower back and maneuvered her back through the open sliding glass door. He loved her, and for the first time she could remember, freedom, unlike anything she’d experienced before, coursed along every nerve ending she owned, every muscle, every bone, until she felt like she might explode. “I believe you.”
A moan escaped up his throat as Beckett directed her toward the counter, then hauled her onto the island, the cold of the granite more shocking to her central nervous system than she’d expected. The pain from both the bullet wound in his shoulder and the stab wound in his thigh must’ve spiked when he’d lifted her, but her marshal never let it show. Didn’t so much as break their kiss. He was only focused on her, and a different kind of warmth penetrated through the layers she’d built over the years. “Back at the ranch, you told me this wasn’t what you wanted. So I’m going to need you to be clear right now. What do you want from me?”
She loved him, too.
“You, Beckett.” Her fingers ached as she fisted his shirt and positioned him between her knees. Pressure released from beneath her rib cage as she breathed into his mouth. “All of you.”
Chapter Twelve
Something had changed between them. Something significant he couldn’t explain, but the resulting awareness he’d experienced after Raleigh had admitted her deepest desire to be valued above all else didn’t press him to dig deeper. She’d trusted him, where so many others had let her down before, and he’d do whatever it took to deserve that trust.
Of all the stories his daughter would hear about her mother when she was old enough, they wouldn’t be about fear or loss or manipulation. No. She’d know how strongly, bravely and fearlessly Raleigh fought for her when the world threatened to bring her down. This baby would grow up knowing how to rely on herself through every battle, every struggle that pushed back at her, because of the example of the woman asleep beside him, and Beckett couldn’t wait to see it for himself.
Raleigh hadn’t felt important to anyone her entire life, but she was everything to him.
And he wasn’t about to lose her again.
He slowly drew his legs over the edge of the bed, soreness rocketing through him. There had to be something he was missing in those files, something not even the FBI had caught.
“If you think you’re getting out of this bed, Marshal, think again.” A smile pulled at her kiss-burned lips as she lay facedown beside him. She shifted beneat
h the sheets, hypnotic green eyes settling on him as she rolled onto her side. Raleigh wedged one arm under her head, all that gorgeous hair stark against the white pillowcase, and wiggled her eyebrows higher in a feigned attempt at seducing him. “I’ll share some of the chocolate I found under the mattress if you reconsider.”
A laugh reverberated through him. Damn, he loved her. The mattress dipped under his knee as Beckett planted a kiss on her forehead, afraid anything more would, in fact, stop him from getting out of the bed. He straightened. Collecting another set of clothes from Reed’s clothing rack, he shoved his feet into a pair of jeans slightly tighter in the waist than he was used to. “As much as I’d love to break into Reed’s weird, secret collection of mattress food, Calvin Dailey is still a suspect we need to look into. Until we’re certain he’s the one behind those missing funds, you’re in danger, and if you want me to be able to pay child support for our daughter, I’ve got a job to do.”
Raleigh sat up on the bed, the sheet clasped against her chest, and he couldn’t look away. Temptation to do exactly as she asked flared as he forced himself to reach for a clean T-shirt from the rack. “That’s the first time you’ve said our daughter.”
“You’re right.” He slumped onto the bed beside her, his hand automatically reaching for the slightly firm section of her stomach where their baby grew. Beckett kissed her bare shoulder. “Guess it finally feels like we’re on the same team.”
“Always.” She lifted his chin with one finger and slipped her mouth over his, and he was lost in her all over again.
“That’s cheating.” His laugh filled the room a second time, and it took every last ounce of strength and determination he had left to pull away. “I’m going to check out the transcripts from Calvin’s interview conducted by the feds. Feel free to join me after you’re dressed.”
“Fine, but I’m keeping all of the mattress chocolate for myself,” she said.
He made his way down the stairs. On the main level, he righted the laptop he’d pushed across the kitchen island to get to Raleigh and brought it out of sleep mode. Hell, his shoulder and thigh still hurt after that one, but at the time, the pain hadn’t bothered him at all. He’d just wanted her. His blood heated at the memories of his name on her lips, the feel of her surrounding him, the echo of exhalations as they’d climbed into ecstasy together. But as long as the threat was still out there, neither Raleigh nor their baby would be safe, and he’d never live with himself if something happened to her on his watch. Not when they could give each other everything they’d ever wanted. Needed.
Beckett clicked through the FBI’s case file straight to the interviews and statements. Calvin Dailey had been interviewed by an agent shortly after Raleigh’s arrest, but nothing in the transcript gave them a leg to stand on that he was their man. What’d he expect? A full confession? The son of a bitch had claimed he hadn’t known anything about Raleigh dipping into the foundation’s funds, despite her official statement she’d handed over the evidence she’d collected straight to him two weeks before an anonymous tip pinned her as the FBI’s primary suspect. But according to Calvin’s statement, it’d sure broken his heart when he’d found out. Yeah, right. Beckett shook his head. Guys like Calvin Dailey were all the same, but Beckett had experience with his kind, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let another con man destroy his future. “Let’s see if that’s even your real name.”
Logging in to the Warrant Information Network—WIN—used by marshals all over the country to conduct investigations, run warrant searches, handle threat management and keep an eye on witnesses in WITSEC, he typed the suspect’s name into the search bar and hit Enter.
And froze as the man’s photo stared straight back at him.
His knees threatened to drop right out from under him as nausea worked up his throat. He gripped the edge of the counter. The suspect was older, slightly worn around the edges, but Beckett would recognize that face anywhere. His instinct to check into the foundation’s CEO had been right. Calvin Dailey wasn’t the man’s real name. Hell, Beckett wasn’t even sure he’d ever known his real name, but he knew at least one other alias for the feds to trace.
“Reed seriously needs to consider the kind of chocolate that’s worth stashing.” Light footsteps padded down the stairs at his back as the muscles down his spine hardened. “Good chocolate is not supposed to have a diet aftertaste. I don’t care how much he paid for it. None of that was worth saving.”
His hands shook as the rage he’d tried to contain these past few days exploded through him. Adrenaline surged into his veins, the pain in both wounds pushed to the back of his mind. Everything about this case had felt too close, too familiar. He’d ignored those initial suspicions, attributed his feelings to the situation between him and Raleigh, but he’d been wrong from the start. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“About the chocolate?” She crossed into his peripheral vision as she wrenched the refrigerator door open and reached inside for a bottled water. “I wish. Now I can’t get that taste out of my mouth. Brushing my teeth didn’t help.”
“You were helping him this entire time, and I was too blinded to see it.” The main level of the cabin blurred as Beckett turned on her, and those bright green eyes widened. The past year came into excruciating focus. The mugging, their whirlwind romance, her arrest, the pregnancy. Hell, even him finding out Calvin Dailey was still alive had probably gone off without a hitch. Every step had been meticulously timed and executed. Because if there was one thing he knew about that man in the photo, Calvin Dailey—whoever the SOB would become next time around—never did anything halfway. When he set out to destroy lives, he succeeded. Only Calvin Dailey wouldn’t have been able to do it alone. “I’ve been racking my brain, wondering how on earth someone in the foundation was able to steal that much money without anyone else noticing but you. Now I know. You’re working with him.”
Venom dripped from his words as Beckett closed the distance between them. The tendons in his fingers ached as he curled them into fists. Had any of it been real, or had he just taken the bait?
“What are you talking about?” Color drained from her face, but she couldn’t fool him. Couldn’t pretend. Not anymore. What’d looked like vulnerability was a carefully constructed emotional response catered to him, to his reactions. Like the good con woman she was supposed to be, and everything he’d felt for her, every promise out of his mouth, ground into dust inside him. Raleigh tried to counter his approach until her back hit the refrigerator. There was nowhere for her to go this time. Nowhere for her to run. Not from him. “Beckett.”
“You’ve been working with him this entire time, haven’t you? Using me,” he said.
The muscles along her throat flexed as she swallowed, the water bottle still clenched between her hands. “You’re accusing me of partnering with Calvin Dailey to steal from my own foundation. Based on what evidence?”
“Come on. We both know that’s not his real name.” He struggled to control the fire burning through him as he reached for the cuffs he’d left on the counter beside the keys to the SUV. Cool metal pressed against his palm. “You might as well call him Hank Foster when you’re talking to me.”
“Calvin Dailey is...your father?” Disbelief coated her words. She stared up at him, her mouth parted slightly as though she were surprised by the information. Hank had certainly taught her well. Her exhalation reached his ears. She shook her head. “Beckett, I swear to you I had no idea—”
“Stop lying!” He slammed his free hand against the fridge above her head, his control razor thin. He’d survived the past twenty years living off his anger—his hatred—for that man, but with her he’d nearly forgotten that feeling. Now the familiarity of that rage wrapped around him. Supported him. Protected him from being that sixteen-year-old kid holding his mother on the floor as she died in his arms. He backed off and collected his shoulder holster loaded with one of Reed’s backup weapons fro
m the counter, threading his arms through the supports. “I’m guessing you didn’t expect to be arrested four months ago. Your partner threw you under the bus because that’s the kind of bastard he is, and as a backup plan you thought you could use me as a get-out-of-jail-free card. You’d appeal to my sense of justice, seduce me, and later down the road, you’d disappear.” Beckett turned to her, lasering her with his glare. “Just tell me one thing. Was the pregnancy his idea or yours?”
Her expression smoothed, any hint of the vulnerable, soft woman she’d been slipping away by the second. In her place, the self-assured, driven fugitive he’d always known existed surfaced. “You didn’t answer my question. You’re accusing me of partnering with a con man to steal from my foundation. What evidence have you found to support that theory?”
“I don’t need evidence. You’re already a fugitive.” Beckett let his hands slip from the refrigerator and pushed away. Grabbing her right arm, he spun her around and secured one cuff around her wrist. Then the other. “Raleigh Wilde, you are under arrest.”
* * *
THE CUFFS CLICKED loud in her ears, and the invisible black hole he’d helped repair over the past few days engulfed her from the inside. Raleigh bit back the scream working up her throat as her heart shattered into a million unrecognizable pieces, worse than before, but she wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t show weakness. Not in front of him. She’d trusted him, believed he’d keep his promises this time, and from the hardness in his expression, there was nothing she could say to make him see the truth. But that didn’t stop her from trying. “You’re making a mistake, Beckett. I didn’t know Calvin was your father. I swear—”
The Fugitive Page 14