I’ve got a bad feeling about this. You sure the guy told you to meet him here?” Michael asked his partner as he leaned over the steering wheel to clear the fogged windshield. The snow had been falling for the past few hours, blanketing the surrounding trees and the nearly empty parking lot. Snowflakes swirled under a pool of golden light from the lone working lamppost.
“Yeah, I plugged it in the GPS when he was setting up the meet. Relax, he probably just got delayed by the weather. It’s a freakin’ blizzard out there, or haven’t you noticed?”
Michael dug an antacid from his pocket instead of reminding his partner that they’d made it from Boston in under forty-five minutes. James had gotten the call from a long-time snitch just as they were leaving the pool hall. The guy had information on Danny Costello and Pussy Cat East. They’d been waiting for almost an hour. Admittedly, road conditions had steadily worsened since they’d turned off the highway.
Still, despite sitting snug and warm inside his Range Rover, Michael couldn’t shake the cold dread lying heavy in his belly. Maybe it had something to do with the location of the meet…and the memories.
They were waiting outside a combination gas station and corner store in the middle of nowhere. A nowhere Michael was familiar with, as he’d been here before. The gas station was located fifteen minutes off the highway, up the road from Driftwood Cove and the inn where he’d spent the best night of his life and his worst morning.
He’d been doing his damnedest not to think about Shay. It just made him angry, frustrated too. She was messing with their case. Not to mention making them look like keystone cops. Everywhere they went, the people they questioned had already been interrogated by a hot, dark-haired woman driving an equally hot set of wheels. She’d been one step ahead of them all day. Sticking her nose where it didn’t belong and putting herself squarely on Costello’s radar.
His brother’s offer of representation last night wouldn’t help her in this case. Michael’s mouth twisted at the memory. He’d tried to talk to her, but his mother wouldn’t back off and neither would Cherry. Connor had just made it worse trying to stick it to Michael for his perceived guilt in the car bombing. Nothing had gone according to plan. Apparently today wasn’t going to be much better.
In the rearview mirror, Michael watched as a black Lincoln Navigator crawled down the country road with a charcoal Mercedes following close behind. He had a feeling he’d been overly optimistic. Today was about to get much, much worse.
“We’ve got company, and I’m pretty sure they’re not here for gas,” he said to his partner, who looked over his shoulder and muttered a blistering curse.
As though to prove Michael right, and he really wished they hadn’t, the Navigator backed into the entrance to the parking lot and the Mercedes idled in the exit, effectively blocking them in. Michael pushed back his coat and pulled out his sidearm.
“I’ve got no cell reception. Try yours,” James said while looking over his shoulder and withdrawing his gun.
Michael tried his phone. “Nothing.” His gaze went back to the rearview mirror and then to the gas tanks and the corner store. There were at least three people that he knew of inside.
“Son of…We’ve got a man from each vehicle coming our way.”
And they had more firepower than Michael and his partner. Michael leaned across the console to unlock the glove compartment and remove a second piece. “If we’re lucky, someone inside the corner store is calling 911.”
James bent at the waist and lifted his pant leg to reveal another gun. “Hate to break it to you, but they’re not going to get here fast enough. Please tell me this baby is outfitted in armor.”
“Wish I could.” He’d been offered the upgrade but turned it down. He’d never been threatened or shot at as an ADA and couldn’t justify the cost. The first thing he planned to do once this was over was have the SUV retrofitted. If they made it out of this alive.
At the thought, images of Shay and Atticus from the other night were followed by flashes of special moments with his brothers, parents, and extended family. He pushed them back. There was no time for sentimentality and emotion. What he needed to do was evaluate the situation calmly and rationally.
They were outgunned and outmanned, and he had no doubt Costello’s cars were armored. And the men running in a crouch across the parking lot with AK-47s in their hands wouldn’t care about the people in the gas station. There was only one option available to them. “Hang on, partner. We’re going for a ride.”
Michael revved the engine and threw the gear into reverse. “Get down,” he yelled when the rat a tat tat of gunfire filled the night air, bullets shattering the back windshield. Michael braked, jerked the wheel hard to the right, and hit the gas. The SUV spun out, sending up an arc of snow before he got the vehicle under control, aiming it directly at the Mercedes. He was counting on them moving, but if they didn’t, he’d ram the back end of the vehicle until he either put them out of commission or made it around them.
At the rush of cold air and snow whipping around in the SUV, Michael took his eyes off the faint glow of red through the blizzard to glance at his partner, who was half hanging out the window. “Get back in here before I ram the car and you fly out.”
“He’s gonna try to shoot out the tires,” James yelled over the roar of the engine and the howling wind, gesturing to the gunmen on the right before he took aim and got off a couple shots of his own.
Michael couldn’t tell if James had hit the gunman or not. He had other things to worry about, like the Navigator’s headlights turning in their direction from the other end of the lot and the rat a tat tat of the second gunman’s bullets hitting uncomfortably close to the gas tank.
“Hang on, we’re going off—” A round of bullets smashed into the driver’s side window, cutting him off. He ducked just in time, glass shattering all around him. Shards of the window stuck in his hands and head, a trickle of something warm running down his cheek.
He slammed the SUV into reverse at the same time James fell back against the seat. “There’s a trail leading into the woods at the back of the gas station. I’ll get us in as deep as I can, and then we’ll—” Michael began as he powered up the passenger side window and braked hard. His partner’s gun hit the floor. Michael’s gaze jerked to James. His face was pale and tight with pain. He’d been hit. “How bad?”
James shifted and winced. “It’s not a flesh wound, I can tell that much.”
“Don’t move around. Put pressure on it and breathe slow and easy. I’ll have you out of here in…” He trailed off at the sight of a sleek black car flying through a wall of snow to land between Michael’s SUV and the Navigator.
James gave a strained laugh. “Looks like we’ve been saved by an Angel, partner.”
Michael stared, stunned as the Hellcat spun in a graceful arc and came to a stop. Both the driver’s side and passenger’s windows went down and automatic gunfire rent the air on all sides. Costello’s men cried out and dropped to the ground at almost the same time. The Navigator and Mercedes peeled away. In the distance came the welcome sound of sirens.
The doors of the Hellcat opened, and Shay stepped out of the driver’s side, Luigi the passenger side.
“Okay, now that I wasn’t expecting,” James said.
Michael didn’t answer, his gaze locked on the woman dressed in black walking through the swirling snow toward him. She was beautiful, capable, strong, a hero, and he didn’t know when he’d ever been more angry or relieved.
* * *
Shay couldn’t read Michael’s expression as he walked to where she leaned against the coffee counter. No doubt some of the emotion she saw on his face was concern for his partner, who’d left by ambulance twenty minutes earlier, and probably some for her too. He wouldn’t be happy she’d put herself at risk. He had no idea just how far she would go to protect him or how angry she was at him for almost getting himself killed. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if she’d lost him.
Even when she wasn’t with him for all those years and never thought in a million more that she would be again, she’d taken comfort in knowing that he was out there living and loving and doing good things.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to get their statements.” Michael nodded at Jim, the owner of the gas station, and his two customers. “I need yours, too, but it’s going to take some time. I thought we’d just head to the inn.”
“Inn?” There was only one inn she knew of in the area, and it was one she’d promised herself never to set foot in again. She’d buried the memories of that night and the next morning, and the last thing she wanted to do was dig them up.
“Everything’s shut down, Shay. Other than emergency vehicles, they’re not letting anyone out on the roads or highway.”
“I’ll drive. You flash your badge, and we’re good.” She wanted to get back to Harmony Harbor to check on Cherry, Libby, and the kids. She’d called to warn them to stay away from the pub and the house. They promised they would, but still…
“Look, I don’t know how you even made it here in one piece, but you’re not going out in that again.”
“So what, you’re planning on walking to the inn?”
“Jim has a snowmobile he said I can borrow. And I’m not going alone. You’re coming with me. Don’t argue, or I’ll arrest you right here.”
She struggled to breathe. She couldn’t get air in or push it out. It was like everything inside her had frozen, and the room started to spin.
Strong, warm fingers linked with hers and gently squeezed as her breath wheezed in and out, in and out. The dizziness passed. “I’m sorry, Shay. I shouldn’t have said that. I was…We need to talk. I need you to listen. If tonight showed me anything, it was that none of us know how long we’ve got.” He glanced around. The men were talking to one of the local cops. Michael ducked his head to whisper in her ear, “Don’t make me tell you here. I want you in my arms when I try to convince you we deserve a second chance. When I tell you I’ve never been more grateful and relieved or angry and terrified to see you.” He gently nipped her earlobe. “Please, come with me to the inn. Stay with me tonight.”
He had no idea those same emotions were still thrumming through her. She wanted to kiss him and shake him and yell at him all at the same time. “Fine. As long as you let me drive.”
“You’re lucky I have a healthy sense of self-esteem. Some men might find your need to be in control all the time emasculating.”
“It has nothing to do with control. You just drive too slow.”
Michael gave her a look and then went to wrap things up with the locals. Fifteen minutes later they were on their way. Less than ten minutes later, she parked the snowmobile at the side of the old-fashioned blue clapboard inn.
“You know, you won’t lose your superhero card if you go the speed limit,” Michael grumbled as he got off the snowmobile.
She kept her smile under wraps as she took off her helmet. “Sorry, we must have passed the signs when you were yelling at me to slow down. You’re a terrible backseat driver, you know.”
“I wasn’t yelling at you. I had to yell to be heard over the roar of the engine as you drove down an incredibly narrow path at full throttle, in the dead of night, in a blizzard,” he said as he walked to the steps that led to the white wraparound porch.
As much as she was teasing him, he was teasing her. She could hear the hint of amusement and admiration in his voice. That was the thing that made Michael different from the men she’d dated over the past five years, and the reason why they’d never made it to first base; he wasn’t intimidated by her. He didn’t want to change her. He liked who she was. He was confident with a strong sense of self. When he was younger, those qualities had come across as arrogance, but now he was just good in his own skin.
For some reason, she wanted to let him know how much she loved that about him, how much she respected the man he’d become. Maybe she wanted to tell him how she felt about him because she’d come so close to losing him. He would’ve died without knowing he was it for her.
She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to the wet wool of his black coat. “Thanks for not dying tonight.” She closed her eyes. That’s not what she meant to say.
He turned in her arms and wrapped his around her, his eyes crinkled with warmth and humor. “Thank you for saving the day, and for loving me enough to put your life on the line for me. I’d do it for you, too, you know. But I have a feeling I’ll never get the chance.”
“God, I hope not,” she said, and shivered as much with cold as at the thought of him risking his life for hers.
He laughed and then gave her a quick kiss. “Come on, you’re freezing, and I’m freezing. We’ll get the key from Mrs. Jaworski and beg her for some food.”
She drew back. “Mrs. Jaworski still owns the place?”
“That’s what Jim said. She was in her midfifties when we used to come here. She’s not that old.”
“Right.” She looked around, trying to come up with an excuse not to make a trip to the inn’s reception desk. “You go ahead. I wanna move the snowmobile to a more sheltered location.”
“Leave it. I’ll do it later.”
“No, I…” She looked up at him. “I don’t want to face Mrs. Jaworski tonight, okay? I haven’t seen her since the trial.”
“Don’t keep doing this to yourself, babe. Mrs. Jaworski would love to see you. She—”
“Please.”
“Okay. I won’t be long.” He jogged up the stairs.
“Michael,” she called after him.
He turned. His gaze roamed her face, and then he nodded. “I’ll make sure we get another room.”
Shay sat on a bench tucked in a corner of the deck. Like the small cove with its driftwood-littered beach now covered in snow, she was somewhat sheltered from the gale-force winds coming off the Atlantic. But there weren’t enough walls, external or internal, to completely protect her from either the elements or her memoires. Michael was right; in many ways she was her own worst enemy. She’d allowed what she’d done to define her.
She thought of herself as an ex-con, someone who wasn’t worthy of love or respect, someone who was less than. But the truth of it was, that if her life hadn’t been interrupted, if she hadn’t gone to prison, she might have been sucked deeper into Charlie’s world. Even if she hadn’t been put away, eventually his mother would have come between them. The guy he used to be would’ve caved to the pressure, and then where would Shay have been?
Certainly she wouldn’t have developed the skills that made it possible for her to protect Michael and his partner today. Nor would she have gotten her degrees. Degrees, she reminded herself, that were going to waste. She’d let fear win. Her master’s in social work wouldn’t provide the income she’d felt compelled to strive for in a bid to protect herself from being put away again. But Ray Sterling had proven to her that sometimes even money wasn’t enough to keep you out of jail.
She looked over at the sound of a door closing and heavy footfalls coming her way. Michael smiled as he rounded the corner, a key and a bag of what smelled like fried chicken in his hand. Her stomach tightened in anticipation. Whether in response to the food or Michael, she wasn’t sure. Even cold, wet, and slightly battered, the man looked as delectable as the chicken smelled. And if the blizzard kept up, they could be stranded here for a week.
If Charlie wasn’t out there somewhere, she couldn’t think of anything she’d like better. The thought surprised her. For years, she wouldn’t let herself think about the Inn at Driftwood Cove, let alone throwing caution to the wind, burying the hurts of the past, and finally going after what she wanted.
Apparently tonight had been the turning point, the thing that sent her on a path to Michael and love. Knowing Costello had ordered a hit on him, not knowing if she’d get to him on time, seeing him in the middle of a shoot-out, terrified that she might lose him, had made her realize that nothing else mattered but the man who was looking at her with love in his staggering blue eyes.
“Ready?” He held up the bag and key.
She smiled. “You have no idea how ready I am.”
He helped her off the bench and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “That sounded like it was about more than getting a room and something to eat.”
“It was. It was about us. I love you, Michael. I never stopped. I don’t think we would’ve made it, though, even if I hadn’t stolen your car and gone to jail. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I’m not sure I’ve ever said that to you.” She remembered him saying he was sorry to her at the pub and how much it had meant to her.
“It was never about the car. It was about waking up after the best night of my life to find you gone. To realize that you didn’t trust me or love me enough to tell me what was going on.”
“I guess we didn’t know back then that we had something worth fighting for.”
“I did. I just didn’t know how to fight for you. I do now.” He stopped in front of a door at the end of the long porch.
Shay blinked at the plaque on the door. “It’s the honeymoon suite.”
He turned the key with a grin. “Which means it has a Jacuzzi. Even better, Mrs. Jaworski says it’s looking like we might be stuck here for a few days.”
Michael drew her into the room with him and set down the bag and key on the desk before drawing her into his arms. “I know you’re worried about Charlie, but Costello doesn’t have him. Luigi would’ve told you if they did. And I would’ve gotten it out of his buddies before they took them away. Charlie’s smart. All he needs to do is lie low for the next few days. We’ve got them, babe. Thanks to you, Luigi’s agreed to provide state’s evidence in exchange for immunity.”
“I know, but you have to bring it to the DA, and then a judge has to sign off on it before you can make a move against Danny. You said so yourself that it could take days.”
“And it probably will. But there’s nothing we can do about that now, so let’s take the win. We’re here, and we’re together, and we have fried chicken and a Jacuzzi.”
“And a really big bed.”