Chapter Seventeen

“Creativity is your best makeup skill. Don’t be afraid to experiment.” - Pat McGrath

The wires sizzled under the late model SUV’s steering column. After a few moments, the engine roared to life. Cam hadn’t stolen a car since high school, but he still had it when it mattered. Now to get this car out of the airport’s economy parking lot before the wrong person saw them.

“You ready to do this?” he asked his passenger.

“I’m as ready to go as a teenage boy on prom night.” Roscoe adjusted his black ski mask so it could be pulled down into place at a moment’s notice.

“Thanks for the visual.” Cam pulled out of the parking spot and followed the arrows out of the lot. He tapped the mic hooked to his bulletproof vest.

“What?” came the immediate response.

That Lee was such a charmer.

“We have forty-five minutes to get to the intercept spot and hit the prisoner transport bus. You good to go?”

“In a second.” A quick fizz sounded followed by an engine’s purr. “Got it.”

He spotted Lee in his rearview mirror. His stolen SUV was close enough that they could work together, but not so close they’d tip off the bus driver until it was too late. At least that was the plan. He’d run similar extractions a million times before, but that was with a squad of highly-trained mercenaries—and it was to pull some stranger to safety, not Drea. He quashed the nerves rumbling in his stomach. The coffee he’d been mainlining since last night bubbled in his stomach like an acidic Jacuzzi.

It would work. It had to.

Cam tapped the mic again. “Ryder, you online?”

“Watching the traffic cams now. No movement out of the precinct.”

“Not a surprise, they shouldn’t leave until around eight.” That would get the transport to the courthouse with enough time for the usual rigmarole before arraignment, but not so much time that the prisoners got fidgety.

“And this is the most logical route?” Lee’s voice crackled over the connection.

Cam had done his research and planned the OP down to the millisecond. “Absolutely.”

“How many other people have the same information?” Ryder asked.

This time the coffee didn’t just bubble, it turned molten. “Too many to assume Diamond Tommy isn’t planning the same thing we are.” He gunned the SUV’s engine.

…

Drea bounced back in her seat as the bus rumbled through the precinct’s secured parking lot. There weren’t any guards in the back. Only her and fifteen women who were either too pissed, too scared, or too hungover to talk.

They looked at her though. It seemed like every pair of eyes behind the Plexiglas sheet dividing the driver and a single guard from their charges was on her. The whole thing made her skin crawl. She scooted closer to the window.

“Hey,” the guard hollered. “No moving around.”

She stilled, her elbow angled oddly against her injured torso—a little reminder of what was in store at county. If she was lucky. After getting bandaged up—no stitches needed—by the nurse, she’d spent the night on a cot in a single cell that reeked of puke and bleach. But it was better than the morgue.

The dark tinted windows allowed more for a feeling about the outside world as opposed to visual confirmation, and she could barely make out the city as they rolled through the neighborhood. They slowed down for an intersection, but instead of stopping at the traffic light, the driver gunned it.

“Yo, Anson. We got company coming up fast.”

“Oh fuck.” The guard hit the communications mic hooked to his shoulder. “We have 8-25 on prisoner transit. Officer requesting backup immediately.”

Drea pressed her face against the window. The warmth of the sun heated the tinted barrier but didn’t shed any light on what was happening outside.

Tires screeched. The bus veered to the left and slammed to a halt. Drea sailed forward and hit the high seat in front of her hard enough to rattle her teeth.

“Stay the fuck down,” the guard yelled.

Shouting outside. Slamming of doors.

Someone yanked open the bus driver’s door and hauled him out into the street by the shirt.

A second later a masked gunman in full body armor jumped into the seat and leveled a sawed off shotgun at the guard. “Anybody here worth your wife getting a flag at your funeral, fella?”

Without a word, the guard raised both hands in the air.

The gunman tapped the mic on his vest. “Go time.”

Someone pounded against the bus’s emergency exit.

The sound vibrated in Drea’s bones. She had nowhere to go. This was it. She’d be dead as soon as the door opened.

“Looks like your date is here, bitch.” A woman sitting a row up smiled and showed off teeth ravaged by meth. “Tell Tommy I said hi.”

The door swung open, and she squinted her eyes against the bright light flooding in. All she could pick out was a man with a gun outlined by the morning sun.

She blinked.

The man came into focus. Cam.

“Come on, babe. We gotta go.”

…

It killed Cam to see her hesitate in her seat.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice shook. “You can’t do this. You’ll go to jail—”

“It won’t be the first time.” He strolled up the aisle to her. With Lee in the driver’s seat and Roscoe acting as lookout, nothing unexpected would happen. “And it would be totally worth it. If it happened, but it won’t.”

He took her cuffed wrists in one hand and worked his lock pick with the other. The handcuffs around her wrists released, and he dropped the metal to the seat.

She rubbed her wrists. Her eyes never left Cam’s face. “This is nuts.”

“So I’ve been told.” He hustled her out of the bus and into his SUV. “But let’s chat out the details later. We’ve got to get to Fergus before Diamond Tommy does.”

They peeled away from the bus with its sliced tires. Police sirens wailed in the distance, closing fast.

“What happens back there?” She sat stiff, not looking at him, with her arms wrapped tightly around her body.

He checked the rearview mirror. Maltese Security’s newest agents were still on target at the bus. “Lee and Roscoe hang around until the cops get close to make sure the prisoners stay put, and then they get the hell out of there. Ryder’s manning the traffic cams and will give them the signal to blaze.”

The stolen SUV’s tires squealed as he made the sharp turn off Eightieth Street onto Evanston Avenue and floored it. They’d gotten this far, but they weren’t scot-free yet. That wouldn’t happen until they got Fergus to sing.

“Drop me off at the nearest Greyhound station.” She rubbed her upper arms. “I’ll catch the first bus out of town. I can’t let you risk your life for me. I thought you’d died back there and it was my fault.”

He almost slammed on the breaks in shock. “But I didn’t, and I promised I’d see you out of this fucked up situation I created.”

“You didn’t make this mess. They’ll find me again. It’ll never end.” She shrugged. “I need to get the hell out of here before I really do get you killed.”

It was bullshit. Total bullshit. He switched lanes and went around the slow moving sedan and then hit the gas. “What happens to me doesn’t matter. All that’s important is getting you safe, then I’ll get out of your life for good.”

“After everything we’ve been through and the other night at the hotel, you think leaving me as soon as this is over will make me safe?” Her words boomed in the SUV’s vast interior, part accusation and part question. “If so, you’re a bigger asshole than Diamond Tommy.”

Forget target-guided missiles, there was nothing that could inflict damage with as much precision as she did. And it pissed him off. There was nothing about the two of them together that was easy, but that didn’t make it any less right.

“Yeah, I do.” He hooked a right turn onto Fergus’s street and slowed down enough to meld into the normal flow of traffic. “I’ve spent most of my life running—first from home, then school, then to the Army and the hostage rescue crew.” His voice rose with each word until he was full on bellowing. “You’re the first person who ever made me want to stay, but all I do is hurt you.”

It wasn’t until he’d yelled the words that the truth of it hit him. He loved her. That was why it had been different with her. That was why he couldn’t stop chasing her, no matter how many obstacles she put in his path.

Drea snorted, but there was no missing the moisture gathering in her eyes. “Bullshit. What did you tell me in my kitchen? To live to fight another day. Well we did, and if you want to blame someone, blame Tommy.”

His entire body ached. This was not how it was supposed to go. This was not the plan. “This shit with Diamond Tommy ends today. That’s all I know.”

She didn’t have a quick answer for that. Not that it made Cam feel any less miserable.

They approached Fergus’s building, the silence in the car like an ever-expanding balloon filled with poison that was about to pop at any second. It pressed against his chest and made it hard to breath.

He slowed as they neared. That was when he spotted the tattooed man who looked like he’d tangled with a grizzly bear and lost.

“Oh, shit.” Cam slid into an open parking spot. “That guy should be down for the count.”

Drea looked around. “What?”

“Isaiah Knight just went into Fergus’s building. He’s gonna kill him if we don’t get there first.” He’d fucked up before by not letting others in on his plan. He wasn’t about to make that mistake with Drea. “You ready to end this?”

His world hinged on her words.

She reached for the door handle, refusing to look at him. “Past ready.”

They rushed across the street and into the building right as the first in a line of speeding patrol cars turned the corner.

They reached Fergus’s door in time to see it shake as something inside the apartment was thrown against it. A low moan snuck through the crack under the door. He had to get in there now. It wasn’t that he cared what happened to Fergus, but he couldn’t save Drea if Knight killed the butler before he had a chance to confess. For the plan to work, they had to keep Fergus alive until the cops were there to hear the butler’s confession.

He turned and grabbed Drea, pulled her into a kiss that contained all of his regret for missed opportunities. He didn’t expect to come out of this unscathed. No doubt, Knight was nursing a well-deserved grudge against Cam right about now. Pulling away from her sucked, but if he didn’t, they’d be running for their lives forever.

“Don’t die yet,” Drea whispered.

“Don’t worry about me, babe.” He stole one last barely-there kiss. “I always figure something out.”

He rammed his foot against the door near the doorknob. Pain rattled his bones, but the door didn’t give. He planted his feet, then rushed forward and hit the oak with everything he had. It flew open.

Chaos reigned inside. Broken glass littered the floor. Side tables were turned over. The couch sat at an odd angle.

Knight had one hand wrapped around Fergus’s shirt, holding him upright, the other hand cocked back for a punch.

“No, please,” Fergus begged. “No more. The police are on their way.”

Cam rushed inside, ready to rain down misery on Diamond Tommy’s thug. Knight had other plans. He whipped around and half tossed, half pushed Fergus into Cam’s path. The butler crashed into Cam, throwing him off balance. Cam righted himself, but not before Knight had put the cockeyed couch between them.

Cam ignored the butler cowering on the floor and turned his full attention onto Knight. “I knocked you out once. I can do it again.”

Knight laughed, and the sound came out more like a honk thanks to the gauze wrapped around the thug’s broken nose. “That was a lucky shot.” He pulled out a black handgun. “But it looks like I’ll get the lucky shot today.”

Everything slowed down, and ice solidified in Cam’s veins. It wasn’t the first time he’d faced down the business end of a gun, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. He’d be damned if he met his fate at the hands of a two-bit thug with a shitty tattoo.

His mind was so busy going through attack options, it took him a second to realize Knight wasn’t pointing the gun at him. He was aiming it at something behind Cam. He forced himself to turn around, and his heart stuttered to a stop.

Drea stood just inside the doorway.

Knight chuckled. “Ladies first.”

…

The tattooed thug’s words were as loud as a thunder crack in her ears. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t look away from him. Her entire world shrank to the muzzle of that black gun. A shot rang out.

A flash of black crossed her vision. Pain exploded in her side, and she was knocked to the ground, barely able to breathe. Cam lay on top of her for an instant, then jumped to his feet. He grabbed the pewter globe on Fergus’s entryway table, whirled around, and winged it at Knight.

The orb hit the thug square on his bandaged nose. He went down without so much as an anguished groan.

Cam kneeled down and gathered Drea in his arms. “You okay?”

“I am now.” She laid her cheek against his chest, felt the furious beat of his heart, and realized she really was okay. Finally.

Footsteps thundered behind her, and the room filled with cops in full tactical gear.

“You two up against the wall,” one officer yelled.

The next twenty minutes were a flurry of paramedics, pat downs, and confusion until Reggie came in looking tired and bedraggled. A few days ago, his hound dog look would have puffed her up with schadenfreude. What a change a few days made. She glanced over at Cam being questioned by another officer and wondered just how much things really had changed.

Paramedics, escorted by a uniformed cop who looked all of twelve, wheeled Diamond Tommy’s unconscious muscle out of the apartment.

“All right. I want them over here,” Reggie called out.

The officer next to her grabbed her arm and guided her to the kitchen, where she stood between Cam and Fergus.

“I’m done chasing you all over this fucking city.” The detective slumped down into one of the chairs. “I don’t know what you’ve got as far as this case goes, but I want it all. Now.”

“Diamond Tommy Houston is running a blackmail scheme,” Cam said, disgust heavy in his voice. “The butler here is involved up to his neck in shady business and murder.”

Fergus inspected his shoes. She didn’t know whether to smack him silly or cry over his stubborn silence.

“You have to tell them Fergus, or we’ll all be dead.” She begged as if her life depended on it, which it did. “Diamond Tommy isn’t going to give up as long as we’re walking around with his little secret in our pockets.”

Blood dripped from the corner of Fergus’s mouth. One eye was swollen shut and his shoulders sagged. “I want immunity.”

Drea squeezed Cam’s hand, and an almost giddy excitement swept through her. They were going to make it out of this.

“I can talk to the prosecutor, but I can’t promise anything,” Reggie countered.

A pathetic sigh shook his shoulders. “I never dealt with Diamond Tommy directly—only Isaiah Knight. He was the one who told me if I didn’t shut up Mrs. Orton, he’d silence me for good.”

Reggie pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped it open on the table. “And the blackmail?”

Fergus shook his head and immediately winced. “Knight was my contact. I told him everything.”

“Do you have anything to back up your claims?” Reggie continued to scribble notes.

“Yes.” The butler didn’t move his head this time. “I have a safe deposit box at the Harbor City Bank and Trust. I kept copies of texts, e-mails, reports, records of deposits to my offshore account. I collected everything from the other employees at Grayson Domestic, made copies for myself and gave the originals to Mr. Knight. What he did with them, I don’t know.”

“And your decision to pin Mrs. Orton’s murder on Miss Sanford?” Reggie asked.

Her heart stopped. The moment of truth.

“I’m not saying anything more without my attorney.” Fergus refused to even look in her direction.

Reggie shrugged and jerked his chin toward the door. “Take him down to the station.”

The detective gave her a curt nod and walked over to where another officer waited by the door.

She sank down into the kitchen chair, her wobbly legs too weak to hold her. It was over. It was finally over. With Fergus spilling the beans, she wouldn’t be targeted anymore.

Cam stopped in front of her. If she’d trusted her legs not to give out on her, she would stand up and get the hell out of Fergus’s apartment before she started crying. But running wasn’t an option anymore, and after everything that had happened, she was done with hiding.

“You almost died because of me.” The words fell out of her mouth before she could clamp it shut, the pain of it all too raw to be held back.

He winced, pulled up a chair, and sat down beside her. His knee rested against hers and set off alarm bells in the sane part of her brain. “But I didn’t.”

“Everyone I’ve ever loved has died before their time.” Long-buried broken dreams of forever and family forced their way to the surface because of Cam—because of how he made her feel. “I couldn’t handle it if that had happened to you too.”

He placed a finger under her chin and turned her head to face him. “You love me?”

Afraid she’d break down if she looked into his eyes, she kept her gaze locked on the uniformed officers milling around the living room, pretending not to be eavesdropping on her conversation with Cam. “Yes, you idiot.”

“But I’m no good for you.” The dull flatness in his tone nearly broke her heart.

“No. You’re not. You’re the best for me.” She looked up at him, ready to publicly plead her case if that’s what it took to make him understand. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m here.” He took her face between his palms. “I will forever be here. You’re mine. I’m yours. The others don’t fucking exist. It’s just us. Remember?”

That had been her line in the motel room. She’d been so sure of him that day—so sure of them. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Today the only thing she was sure of was the aching hole where her heart had been when she thought she’d never see him again. “Promise?”

“Forever.” His hands slid from her shoulders and down her arms until his large hands wrapped around hers. “I love you, Drea Sanford.” He leaned in close, stopped inches from her lips.

Her heart went into overdrive. “So why don’t you quit stalling and kiss me?”

He chuckled. “In front of all these people who are pretending not to watch?”

She smiled. “Let them watch.”

She wanted them to see, to know that she was his and he was hers. She inched in and closed the distance between them. “Isn’t a public kiss like this what got you into trouble in the first place?”

“Without a doubt.”

And she didn’t have one single doubt in her mind when she leaned over and kissed the man she loved in full view of half the Harbor City police department.