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Blake stood next to Eric, looking down at the plans of a building as his boss explained a possible strategy to finally catch the thieves who’d been robbing banks all over the country.
It was Wednesday, the second week in December. The team had been tracking the movements of this gang of bank robbers for the last two months by the time Blake had joined them nearly four weeks ago. Over the last week, they’d finally caught a break when they’d received a tip via the Bank Robbers Mobile App, an application launched by the FBI in 2016, to make it even easier for the public to help law enforcement.
The site and app offered a search tool to find and group robbers by location, a national map that plotted robbery locations, a chronological list of robberies, electronic wanted posters with details on each robber and crime, and a printable version of each poster containing information on how to contact authorities.
They were flying to Chicago tomorrow. Everything had been planned down to the last detail. A technical team would be on standby, with eyes and ears outside and inside the building.
As Eric droned on, Blake tuned out. They’d gone over the details enough times for him to know what needed to be done. The one question he kept asking himself over and over, though, and one he couldn’t find an answer to was, why was he here?
He’d resigned. Walked away from this life after Will’s untimely and unnecessary death. But when Eric had contacted him months later, he’d immediately agreed to help. He couldn’t bring back Will, but he could make sure no one else died, he’d reasoned. There had been an urgent need inside him to try and atone, somehow, for his partner’s death.
But, as he’d come to realize, he could never do that, no matter how many times he put himself in danger—something that had only gradually dawned on him over the last week.
And over the last few days, Jason’s words were keeping him awake at night. Will shouldn’t have stormed into the building without backup. He knew that. And he was finally able to grasp—on some level at least—Will’s death hadn’t been his fault.
And Miss Betty had been old and ill. The reason why she hadn’t told him was because she hadn’t wanted him to worry about her.
But his discoveries—realizations—didn’t change much, really. He still didn’t have anything to offer Lindsay. Oh, he had money. Thanks to Miss Betty’s very generous inheritance, he would probably never have to work again, but he’d didn’t know the first thing about being part of a family or what a dad was supposed to do.
But damn it, did he miss her. He’d picked up his phone too many times to count, intent on sending her a message, only to put it down again. She needed someone who understood the meaning of family, not someone like him, who had no idea what it meant.
Love. Such a small word. Such a powerful emotion.
“Davidson? Your head in the game, or on some or woman?” Eric’s crisp voice penetrated his thoughts.
“I’m here,” he said.
Eric stared at him a moment longer before he scanned the room. “See you at the airport tomorrow morning at seven. Be ready.”
As they all left the room, Blake’s phone rang. It was Jason. His heart missed a beat. Lindsay.
“What’s wrong?” he asked without greeting Jason.
“Depends.”
“What are you talking about?”
“On whether you’re certain you’re not interested in Lindsay,” Jason said coolly. “I’ve been wondering for the past week whether I should tell you.”
Blake’s heart simply stopped. “Tell me what?”
“It’s December. Nearly Christmas, and the good people of Alisson have planned all sorts of entertainment for the next few weeks. And as you know, Lindsay is single, the local vet is single; come to think of that, I’m single...”
Blake gritted his teeth. “I told you to stay away, remember?”
“Ah. So you won’t like it if I ask her to the Snowflake Festival this weekend? It’s just...there’ll be dancing and I...”
“Stay. Away.”
“Okay, but just so you know—the vet is just about salivating when he looks at her... I mean, Lindsay is—”
“Don’t you dare say another word.”
Jason laughed. “Well, my friend, you’ll have to make up your mind quickly. If you’re not back, the playing field is open!” And with that, he ended the call.
Cursing under his breath, Blake took the elevator. His hands were fisted, he noticed, and tried to relax his fingers, but the mere thought of Lindsay with another man made him see red.
The elevator stopped on the ground floor; he strode towards the doors, ignoring everyone else. He needed some fresh air to clear his head. As he stumbled out of the building in downtown Washington, he turned and looked back at it.
The decade-long plan to build new headquarters for the FBI in the Washington suburbs had been cancelled by the current president three years before. But apparently, there was now funding for a new headquarters project in Huntsville, Alabama; this one wasn’t secure enough and was just about crumbling around them.
It was time to renew, time to rethink old ideas and old plans. What worked before wasn’t working anymore.
Looking up at the blue sky, he inhaled deeply. Wasn’t it time to rethink his own damn life? One of the reasons he’d chosen to open his dojo in Alisson, Montana, when he left the FBI, was because of the fresh air and the particular shade of blue of the Montana sky. So why the hell was he here and not there?
Lindsay. Rubbing his chest, he grimaced. Damn, he loved her. He didn’t want to be here; he didn’t want to be killed; he wanted to spend whatever time he had left on this earth with her—if she’d have him back—if she would agree to his terms.
He couldn’t ever be a husband or father, but he could love her. Maybe that would be enough? He was prepared to grovel and crawl if that was what it would take to convince her to give him a chance.
For the first time since he could remember, he was excited about the future. He had a new plan.
So how could he convince her to let him into her life again? She felt something for him. She wouldn’t have let him touch her, otherwise. And he was going to make sure no other damn man was going to put his hands on her.
Turning around, he went back into the building, his tread much lighter.
He’d fly back to Bozeman from Chicago when they’d finished tomorrow night, and surprise Lindsay. He should be in time for whatever-the-hell-the-name-was festival. If anyone would be dancing with her, it would be him. The damn vet could get his own woman.
––––––––
Thursday night, the tension was palpable in the vehicle as Eric parked a block from the building they were about to enter. They’d arrived in Chicago that morning and since then had made sure everything was in place for their plan.
“Everything okay, Davidson?” Eric asked as they got out of the vehicle. “You’re very quiet. I need your head here, with us.”
Two other vehicles, carrying the other four agents on the team, stopped behind them.
“I’m here,” Blake said, his gun also ready. Why the hell everyone had to talk all the time, he didn’t know. He was fine. He didn’t really sleep. Or eat. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Lindsay, but other than that, he was fine.
The rest of the team hurried closer and Eric barked out last orders. Everyone knew what to do and the technical team was nearby. But as Blake had discovered in the course of his career, you could never predict every little detail. It had been exactly one such surprise that had killed his friend.
It was freezing cold in Chicago, as always. Quietly, they moved closer to the building.
Blake followed Eric down a small alley next to the building. According to the floor plans they’d studied, there should be a door ahead. Slowly, they crept towards it.
Lindsay. Her image flashed before his eyes as it had done numerous times over the last three weeks.
Eric lifted his hand, counted on his fingers from three. Two other team members rammed the door and they were inside. Blake followed silently, aware of the rest of the team behind him.
Suddenly, he stopped. He’d picked up a sound coming from the opposite direction from where they were headed. Something was wrong.
He touched Eric’s shoulder and when he turned around, Blake shook his head, indicating they should stop.
But Eric had smelled victory. He shook off Blake’s arm and began to move forward again. Even more alert than before, Blake scanned the area around them. As they proceeded around a corner, a movement out of the corner of his eye had him turning to his right, gun ready.
He caught the flash a millisecond before the sound rang out. “Gun!” he shouted, and jumped in front of Eric without a second thought. The man had kids and a wife.
Chaos broke out but Blake ignored everything else. His eyes were trained on the spot where he’d seen the gun fire. He fired two shots. Someone fell, called out.
Dropping his arm, he looked around for Eric, but a strange numbness was crawling over him. He looked down at his arm. Blood was dripping on the floor. Whose blood? The person he’d shot was way over on the other side.
“Davidson...son of a...”
Blake heard Eric’s voice from far away. A blackness threatened to engulf him. Damn, he’d been shot.
Lindsay. He loved her. And he would never get to tell her that; he’d never get to dance with her to that song she liked or make love to her again. They would’ve made beautiful babies. Two little girls with their mother’s clear blue eyes and a boy with dark hair. They’d have a house with fairy lights all around the porch. And a dog. A damn spaniel, of all things.
Lindsay was trying to tell him something. He wanted to hear what she had to say, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
––––––––
Lindsay swallowed the lump in her throat. Damn it, she kept wanting to cry over every stupid little thing.
It was Thursday evening and everyone was gathered on the town square, getting the booths ready for the weekend-long Snowflake Festival, which would start tomorrow. She and Lilly were decorating their cubicle. With Lilly’s help, she’d made gift packs with her creams and oils, ready to be sold.
All the trees around the big Christmas tree were covered in lights, giving a magical feeling to the whole square.
“Linds!” she heard her sister call, and looked up to see Charlie hurrying closer.
Lindsay smiled. Her sister was literally glowing. Logan was a few steps behind. “Slowly, Charlie...” He laughed and pulled his wife closer for a hug.
Charlie beamed. “How are you?” she asked Lindsay. “Still feeling tired?”
“I...” she began, but someone touched her arm and she turned around. It was Jason.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
Her heart stopped. Something was wrong; she could read it in Jason’s somber face. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Blake?”
He hesitated and glanced at Charlie.
“What’s happened?” her sister asked and rushed closer.
“I...don’t know.” She looked up at Jason and her heart stopped. “Blake,” she barely got out. “Something happened to Blake. Tell me!”
“Jason?” Logan asked as Charlie grabbed her hand.
“He’s been injured...”
Lindsay could see Jason’s lips move, but she couldn’t make out the rest of his words. Why couldn’t she breathe? She tried to focus, but a soft cloud simply picked her up and a blackness engulfed her.