Fighting For Her

by Cynthia Eden

  A hit man as an alibi? Interesting. “Let me get back with you.”

  “Layla.” Her name burst from him.

  She frowned.

  “Be careful, okay? This is out of control. Bombs outside my building. A spy in here. FBI agents getting rushed to the hospital. The collateral damage in this case is insane, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “It’s sweet that you care, but I can handle myself.”

  “This isn’t like your usual cases. Don’t trust anyone. You understand what I’m saying? Too many people are being bought. Cops. FBI. Maybe even my own agents…I don’t even know who to trust. Watch yourself.”

  “I will.” She shoved the phone into her pocket and squared her shoulders. With slow, calm steps, she headed into the exam room. “Status,” she threw at the doctor.

  “Blood loss, but nothing substantial. The patient’s blood pressure dipped for a bit, but he’s stable. Stitched him up, and he’s ready to go.”

  “Thanks.” She waved him away and headed closer to the “patient.” Layla smiled at him. “Do we feel better? I mean, you did have a nasty scratch, and I can see how it would take down a big, tough guy like you.”

  His lips thinned.

  “Time to head over to the PD. We need to get moving, before all those people from the bombing head in here. Place will be swarming with Feds.” She motioned to the uniform on the right. “Let’s—”

  Her perp asked, “What bombing?”

  Layla didn’t let a flicker of satisfaction show on her face. “The one at Wilde.”

  His pupils flared. She was staring right at him, so she saw the dead giveaway. Then he rasped, “Kat?”

  “I believe she was involved, yes.” A nod. “Now, let’s get you to the—”

  “Get the idiots in uniform out of here. We need to talk.”

  The uniforms glared. Obviously, they didn’t like being called idiots. Who did?

  Layla winced. “You should be more careful. Words hurt.”

  “Screw that. We need to talk. Alone.”

  What did he think? That if he had her alone, he’d be able to overpower her and get away? Oh, yes, she’d already figured out that Ghost thought he’d be able to sneak away. Ghost had never been arrested before. Never spent so much as a night in a jail cell. She was sure he’d be trying to get away.

  But he wasn’t escaping on her watch.

  “You want information from me, Detective Lopez?” He yanked at the cuff. “Then you and I talk in here, alone.”

  She motioned to the cops. “Stand outside the door. Keep guard.”

  Reluctantly, they left. The doc had already high-tailed it out of there. She’d noticed that he’d seemed particularly jumpy after he’d spotted the handcuffs. If he’d realized he was treating a hit man, she thought the MD might have fainted.

  When they were alone, she raised her brows. “Happy now?”

  “Is Kat alive?”

  “You know what…how about we play a game? I ask you a question, you answer it. And then, if you answer me honestly, I’ll answer a question for you. Does that seem fair?” The antiseptic smell in that room was making her nose itch.

  “Fine,” he gritted out. His shirt had been removed by the doc—cut away and bagged as evidence. He was a muscled, very strong guy. If he thought he’d use that strength against her…

  Think again.

  “Question one…” Let’s get the big stuff out of the way. “Were you present when Rick Williams and Kathleen O’Shaughnessy left the motel off of Highway—”

  “They didn’t kill the guy. Let’s cut straight to it. That’s what you wanted to know, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure Rick knocked the guy unconscious.” Ghost slid his jaw from side to side. “Trust me, big boy packs one hell of a punch. But Rick didn’t kill the motel clerk. The fellow was still breathing when they drove away.”

  Well, color her surprised. She actually hadn’t expected him to offer up that alibi so easily.

  “What?” He blinked. “You think I’m lying? Why would I do that? You don’t need to arrest Rick Williams. He didn’t do anything wrong. Let him stay exactly where he is.”

  Now this was interesting. “Where do you think he is?”

  Her perp shook his head. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

  Her lips thinned.

  “Is Kat alive?”

  “Yes. The bomb didn’t get her. Some FBI agents were injured, but she’s safe.”

  He released a low breath. Some of the tension seemed to slide from his body.

  “Oh, I get it.” Layla nodded. “If someone else kills her, you don’t get paid. It must be like some giant hit man contest out there, huh? Who will claim the bounty? Hate to break it to you, but you won’t be the winner. You’ll be in a jail cell.”

  His brow furrowed. “Why? What crime have I committed?”

  “My turn to ask the question.”

  He smiled. Ghost looked entirely too relaxed all of a sudden. She didn’t like that. Not at all. “What’s your real name? I get that you go by Ghost, but I want an actual name for booking.”

  “Oh, I thought you already had that. Didn’t the Feds tell you? My lovers call me Jimmy. Formal name is James. James Smith.” A pause. “And your name is Layla Lopez. You’re friends with Eric Wilde and Rick Williams. By all accounts, you’re a stand-up cop. If such a beast exists.”

  “It does,” she snapped back.

  “You tend to have good judgment, you’re respected by your peers—”

  “Have you investigated me?”

  “Yes…and that counts as another one of your questions, even though it was my turn.”

  That sonofa—

  “I do have to wonder about the good judgment, though, since you’ve been secretly involved with defense attorney Kendrick Shaw for the last year.”

  No. No, he had not just said—

  He made a tut-tut sound. “I mean, Kendrick reps some of the worst criminals out there. You are supposed to put the bad guys away. How does it work, sleeping with someone who should be your enemy?”

  She lunged toward him. “You don’t know—”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He wagged his cuffed fingers. “You’re supposed to answer my question. That was my question.”

  She wasn’t going to answer his question. How, how had he known about her and Kendrick? “Time for you to be transferred to the PD.”

  “Yes, I thought you’d say that.”

  She stormed away. Headed for the uniforms. They both had their backs turned to the door and observation window. What the hell? They should at least be watching to make sure the perp wasn’t trying to make a run for it. Layla whipped open the door. “Get in there and get him ready for transfer,” Layla ordered angrily. “Get him—”

  There was a commotion at the end of the hallway. Her head whipped to the right as the ER doors burst open.

  “FBI!” One voice yelled out as a throng spilled into the hallway. “These are FBI agents and you’re damn well going to take care of them!”

  Nurses and doctors were scrambling. Layla advanced on the chaotic scene.

  A gurney shoved past her, and she caught a quick glance at a man’s face—twisted in agony. A redheaded man in a dirty suit, one marked with blood and ash.

  Another gurney followed. Then another.

  The bombing outside Wilde Protection and Securities. She was staring at the vics. Her gaze flew over the agents and cops that now filled the ER. She recognized—“Agent Brisk?”

  Bryan Brisk turned toward her. Yeah, their paths had crossed before. More than a few times. And he’d been the one demanding that her boss turn over custody of Ghost to him. He’d also been at the motel, nosing around her crime scene and telling her that the FBI had control. He and his redheaded partner, the poor guy she’d seen get wheeled back moments before.

  “Detective Lopez?” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

  “Getting my perp checked out—like you FBI guys insisted. I wanted to drag his ass straight to
the PD because he barely had a scratch, but instead, I’m here.” She jumped back as another gurney rolled past her. “How bad is it?”

  “No dead. We’re fucking lucky on that score.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Appeared exhausted and hollowed out. “The driver and my partner were the two agents closest to the vehicle when it blew. Their injuries look bad and hurt them like hell, but the EMTs said they’d be okay.” His hand dropped. He looked over her shoulder. “Where’s your perp?”

  She turned back. The two uniforms she’d stationed outside of Ghost’s exam room were gone. Good—that meant they’d followed her orders and gotten him ready for transport.

  Right?

  Her stomach rolled, though, and Layla found herself hurrying—then running—back to Ghost’s room. She peered through the observation window. “Shit!”

  Layla shoved open the door.

  Both of the uniforms were on the floor. She flew toward them, immediately checking to make sure they were still alive and—yes, thank God, they were. Pulse beating, breathing shallow, but alive. Unconscious.

  Her gaze darted around the exam room, and she saw the handcuffs that had been dropped near the door. That tricky SOB.

  A whistle came from the doorway.

  Agent Brisk shook his head. “He got away.”

  She shot to her feet. “He can’t be far!” She shoved Brisk out of her way. “I need help in here! Two uniforms are down!” She rushed down the corridor and slammed her hands on the nurse’s desk. “We need to search this place, top to bottom! Get me your security—get me all hands that you’ve got!” Her breath heaved out. “A killer just walked out of his exam room.”

  ***

  The scrubs fit him perfectly. He’d snagged a surgical cap to cover his hair and donned a mask to hide the lower portion of his face. After getting the right clothes, it had been easy for James to join the crowd of doctors who’d swarmed around the downed FBI agent.

  FBI Agent Tom Wayne. Yes, James knew the guy. He made a point of knowing everyone who could be a problem. James stayed with the medical crew as Tom was wheeled into an exam room. Damn, the Fed had a wicked burn on the left side of his body.

  From the details he was hearing, things could’ve been a lot worse.

  For Tom and for everyone else involved.

  Some killers were so sloppy. They didn’t care about collateral damage. They didn’t care about anyone who got in their way. James wasn’t like that. He had a code.

  He took out the target, and no one else ever got killed. Simple enough. But then, he was a professional. He took pride in his work.

  After a few moments, he slipped from the room. James made his way down some twisting hallways. Walked right past a few security guards and out into the sunlight.

  His gaze swept the parking lot.

  Decisions, decisions. Which car did he feel like stealing?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kat lifted her head and gazed at Rick. She’d never seen his face look so hard. So fierce. His body was like a rock, every muscle stiffened. “You saved my life.”

  “I couldn’t let you go.”

  She should smile at him. Try to lighten the mood. Only she couldn’t. “Are the FBI agents okay?”

  “I…some of them were hurt, baby, and I don’t know if there were casualties.”

  A knife stabbed into her heart.

  “We’ll find out. Eric is downstairs. He’s going to report soon. Everything will be fine.”

  “That’s a lie. Nothing about this situation is fine, and you know it.”

  His head inclined. “You’re right. And I said I wouldn’t lie to you, didn’t I?” His breath blew out in a rush. “The situation is a four-alarm cluster fuck. You’ve got bad guys coming after you from every side. They all want you dead.”

  Okay, no sugar coating. But then, she already knew this.

  “The Feds, Wilde agents, the cops…it’s possible you’ve been compromised from all sides.”

  “I-I knew I was signing my own death warrant when I came forward with the evidence I had.” She choked down the lump that had risen in her throat. “There’s nowhere to turn. Nowhere to go.” She wasn’t going to make it to the courthouse. The prosecutors would just have to use the evidence she’d already given them. They would—

  “You turn to me. You run to me.” His hand was so careful as it curled under her chin. “Because, baby, you can always count on me. I swear, I am not going to let you down.”

  She blinked away the tears that wanted to fill her eyes. She could still feel the heat of the fire on her skin and hear the screams that had filled the street. “Why are you risking so much for me? I’m not worth it. I’m a job you were hired to do. Walk away. Be done before you’re hurt. Before you’re the one in the street screaming.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Rick, you need to know that you say that word far too much—”

  “You’re worth anything. Hell, I’m starting to think that you’re worth everything to me.”

  He hadn’t said that. She’d misunderstood him. Must have. Maybe her hearing was still messed up from the blast.

  His mouth lowered and brushed over her lips. “Everything, Kat. That’s what you are to me.” Another soft, tender kiss. “Realized that very important fact right before a bomb exploded behind us both.”

  Her breath caught. She wanted to believe him. But another lover had once told her the same lie. Gage had sworn she was everything to him, and then Kat had learned she was only a means to an end.

  “Believe me. Trust me.” His fingers trailed tenderly down her throat. “You’re not a job. You’re everything.”

  She kissed him. Not some sweet, careful kiss. A frantic, desperate one because she was desperate. She was tired of being afraid. Tired of running. Tired of being used.

  Rick was in front of her. The guy who was good. The man who had been hired to keep her safe. And he had—he kept coming through for her over and over again. He kept proving to her that all men weren’t monsters. That there could be so much more in the world.

  If only she’d met him a few years ago…or even last year…what would her life be like?

  She clung tightly to him, truly wishing that she never had to let him go. Wishing that she could always keep him with her.

  Slowly, his mouth lifted from hers. His forehead pressed against her.

  “I called Gage Hollow,” Kat confessed.

  “Gage.” Rick stiffened. “Your ex?”

  “Yes, and he’s the man who has taken over the power void left by my father’s death.” She was telling Rick everything. All the secrets she had. He wanted them? She’d give them to him. Everything. “I believe Gage was behind my father’s murder. Gage likes to work a…a psychological game, I guess you could say. He seduced me. He tried to get secrets about my father’s business from me, and when I learned the truth about him…when my father told me the truth, Gage promised he’d destroy my dad.” Her voice trembled. She hated that. She wanted to sound strong and confident. “I called Gage because I had his private line. I had a way of cutting through the BS and the red tape that surrounded him. I told him that I had no evidence against him, nothing I could use in court.”

  “Why did you call him?” His gaze reflected his confusion.

  “Because I suspect he’s the one who put the heavy price on my head. I thought if I could get him to back off, everything would be easier. I was telling him the truth—I truly don’t have anything I could use against Gage. I wish I did.” She shook her head. “But Gage said it wasn’t him. He told me that he wasn’t gunning for me.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “No.” She held his gaze. “I didn’t. Not for a second. You see, I learned what it sounds like when Gage lies.”

  “What does it sound like?”

  “It sounds like he’s talking.”

  His lips twitched.

  “Gage always lies. That’s what he does. I was hoping he’d slip up during our phone call. He didn’t. I
was also hoping he would back the hell off but obviously, he hasn’t. When I walked away from him, Gage told me that he didn’t give up the things that belonged to him.”

  “You don’t fucking belong to him.”

  “No. I don’t.” A roll of her shoulders. “It was after I made that call to Gage that my hotel room was shot to hell and back.”

  His eyes were so dark and stormy. “Where the hell is he now?”

  “From what I can tell, he’s gone dark. Vanished from public sight. I doubt we’ll see him again until after the court appearance, or you, you know, after I’m dead.”

  “You are not dying.”

  “Everyone dies sometime.”

  Rick kissed her again. Hard. Deep. God, she loved his kiss. Loved the way it could make her burn with need even when she felt as if she were breaking apart.

  “Die when you’re ninety-eight,” he muttered against her lips. “Die curled in bed with me after you’ve had kids, grandkids, great-grandkids. Die after you’ve lived a life so full of happiness that you can’t even remember the bad times.”

  Wait…She pulled back. Gaped at him. “What are you saying?” He couldn’t be talking about a life together. Not a lifetime. No, no way.

  “Princess, I’m saying I want to be in this for the long haul with you. When I tell you that you’re everything, I mean it.” His eyes glittered. “I could feel it with you, the first time I put my eyes on you. When you walked into this office and you barely glanced at Eric, instead you focused on me. You told me you loved the strong, silent type, and my fucking thought—my thought at the wrong time and at the wrong place…was…what would it be like if she could really love me?”

  Her heart stopped.

  “I know you don’t love me.” His smile was tender, and it made her heart ache. “But, princess, I fell fast and hard for you.”

  “That’s…no, you don’t even like me. I drive you crazy.”

  “I fucking love you.”

  “I’m a mob boss’s daughter—”

  “Who has more courage and conscience than anyone I’ve ever met.”

  “I hotwire cars—”

  “And you make it look so damn easy and sexy.”

  “I…” She didn’t know what to say. Kat was also afraid to believe him. She wanted it, wanted him, so much but… “There is no happy ending for us.”