"Put that away," a cool, arrogant voice said behind her. Piper's stomach clenched as adrenaline sent her nervous energy skyrocketing.
"I said, put it away," Carl insisted. "If you need motivation Mr. Jensen, I have a gun pointed at Piper's head."
Alex slowly set his phone beside the computer and raised his hands into the air. Nearly frozen with fear, all Piper could think of to do was copy him. Her hands weren't nearly so steady.
"Turn around," Carl ordered.
She did. Her stomach dropped at the sight of a terrifying black gun aimed right at her. A speckling of dark dots danced toward the center of her vision, closing in steadily. She sucked in a gulp of air as Alex swung his legs to the side of Danni's old desk chair and stood up behind her.
She would not faint. She never fainted. Fainting was for babies, she told herself sternly. The black dots slowly retreated, and she vaguely wondered how many shocks a person's system could take before it collapsed.
"If you please," Carl said, waving the gun toward the other side of the room.
Alex nudged her in the shoulder with his elbow, then moved away from the desk. She took the hint and followed.
"Shooting us will send the police straight to you," Alex said. He sounded surprisingly calm, and it made her wonder how many times he'd had a gun pointed at him.
"Happily, I had the foresight to register this weapon in your name." Carl drifted over to the computer and glanced at the screen.
"I've also laid down some rather unsavory crumbs for the authorities that will give them enough reasonable doubt to keep you very busy," he added as he pecked at the keyboard with one hand.
"You bailed out Wesley," Piper hissed, momentarily forgetting her fear in her outrage for her friends.
"And delivered explicit instructions as to what I expected in return. Signed with your would-be hero's name, of course."
A growl of fury curled up into her throat. She'd had enough of this. All the plotting, destruction and pain to others was really starting to piss her off. "How could you? Innocent people were hurt."
"The women you cluck over so devotedly are hardly innocent, my dear." He checked his watch and then turned away from the computer. "I was also the one who let the dogs loose so you'd have to cancel your ridiculous party. Too many witnesses are a recipe for indigestion, don't you think?"
He nodded toward the bed behind them. "If you would be so good as to slide that suitcase over to me," he said to Piper.
She gave him a belligerent glare.
"What a pity if your lover shot you," Carl drawled.
"I have no reason to kill Piper," Alex said in a cool, confident voice. "The police will know it's a setup."
"I won't get away with it, you mean? How quaint. I don't need to. I just need enough time for my plans to play out. The suitcase, please?"
Piper gave him a sour look and shifted around to the side of the bed. "Do you want me to close it, too?" she asked in a sarcastic tone.
"If you wouldn't mind."
"Doing anything that helps you makes me feel sick." She forced the over-packed carry on bag closed and zipped it up. As she did, she noticed the plane ticket lying on top of the neatly folded clothing.
Piper glanced at Alex, but he kept his gaze steadily on Carl.
"Don't worry, my dear," Carl said, a gleam of malicious amusement in his eyes. "I'm not taking your mother away from you. My dear Lizzy doesn't feel up to a trip out of the country, right now."
Terror sped through her nervous system. Piper spun toward him, then froze when his grip tightened around the handle of the gun. "What have you done to Mother?" she choked out.
"Nothing worse than a sleeping pill in her evening cocktail." He smiled and a chill ran down her back.
"I saw the contract," Alex said. "Do you really think a five-year shipping agreement is going to pacify Azevedo and his sons? They take a dim view of people who steal from them, Jamison. I'm betting you know that."
Carl's expression hardened, one of the few times she'd ever seen him obviously agitated. "The contract was nothing but a distraction. The real payoff is more than enough to make up for any previous indiscretions."
"Azevedo has a long memory, and I've seen what he does to his enemies. I wouldn't wish a death like that on a dog."
A hateful smile pinched the older man's mouth. "Perhaps I'll arrange for you to get that wish anyway, Agent Jensen."
"If you touch one hair on Gooch or Nipper's head—" Piper snarled. "Wait. Agent? Did you say agent?"
"Didn't he tell you?" Carl clicked his tongue. "Shame on you, Alex. Don't you know that you should tell your betrothed everything?"
"Like you have?" Alex asked, matching the other man's savage smile with one of his own.
"Mine is a special case. I never intended to marry Lizzy unless it was absolutely necessary. She was what one calls a back-up plan. One of many."
"What do you mean 'agent?'" Piper insisted.
"He works for a special organization associated with various government agencies," Carl said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "It goes by the charming moniker of 'Department 23.' Or among their clients, 'The Help.' Very unimaginative and demeaning, don't you think?"
"Shame all the good acronyms were taken," Alex commented dryly. He nodded at Carl's wrist when the older man glanced at his watch again. "By the way. What are we waiting for?"
"Timing is everything, dear boy. Señor Azevedo tends to get testy when his dinner is interrupted. Even for something as significant as a full partnership with an American shipping company."
The door banged open. "What the hell do you mean 'partnership?'" Danni shouted and she lunged at Carl.
Piper instinctively dove for her sister as the gun swung toward Danni. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex grab something from his boot and spring forward.
Carl knocked Danni across the room and aimed his gun at them. Alex hit Piper in a full tackle.
A deafening crack of sound tore through the air followed by a flash of smoke as Alex's weight carried her to the floor. Their left shoulders hit and he rolled off of her, a listless, dead weight.
As she watched, a bright red patch bloomed ominously across his shoulder and upper chest, spreading quickly. A small gun lay in his outstretched right hand.
Carl smiled and leveled his weapon at Alex's head. "And so dies another useless patriot," he hissed.
Her horror collapsed as a monstrous rage scalded through her blood, exploded into her brain and turned all coherent thought to ashes. Piper grabbed the gun from Alex's limp hand and fired.
* * *
Alex knew he'd been shot. It wasn't his first time feeling the initial scorching pain that quickly cut into a hollow, cold numbness as shock set in.
The agony concentrated on his arm and the right side of his chest. Every time he tried to get a breath, the fire of it beat him down until he wished he hadn't made the attempt.
Nothing bubbled or hissed, so at least the shot had missed his lungs. His sternum wasn't shattered either, or he'd already be dead. The bullet must have hit the outside of his arm. It might even be lodged in the bone.
Good news, all things considered. The bad news was that Jamison had gotten away. He knew that for a fact because otherwise, like a shot to the chest, he wouldn't be lying here ascertaining the damage.
At least that piece of crap had missed Piper. And he'd been able to signal the Department before forced to abandon his phone.
They'd be here soon. They'd help Piper and her sister.
"I don't think he's dead," Alex heard Danni say somewhere to his right.
"He needs to be. The bastard killed Alex," Piper snarled.
Under any other circumstances that would have surprised a laugh out of him. He didn't think she even knew how to curse.
"You can't shoot him again." Danni sounded panicked.
"Just watch me."
A low, pitiful moan sounded a few feet away. Based on the women's conversation, he realized that Jamison must be on the floor and wounded.
A sunny pride hummed through him. His girl had shot the bad guy. Alex was sorry he'd missed that.
He cracked open his eyes and was rewarded with the sight of Jamison curled into a fetal position next to the bed. Blood stained the carpet under him where he clutched his wrist to his chest.
"Look!" Danni shouted. "Alex isn't dead!"
Check in later, he thought.
Piper dropped down into his field of vision, blocking the satisfying sight of an incapacitated Jamison. She laid his pistol on the carpet next to him and cupped his face in her small, cool hands.
One of her tears hit Alex on the cheek. She brushed it away and tenderly kissed the spot. Her lips were very soft. He'd always liked that about her. He liked a lot of things about her.
"You took a bullet for me. How could you?" she scolded, but the catch in her voice made a lie of her anger.
He risked the pain of pulling in a little extra air. "Love you," he said on the exhale and felt suddenly exhausted for his trouble. Must have lost more blood than he'd realized. Peachy.
Her wonderful green eyes flooded with more tears and she pulled his face into her breasts. Normally he wouldn't complain, but it moved him enough to send a blinding stab of agony through his arm and chest. A groan forced its way out of his mouth without consulting him.
"Oh, my God," she said, pulling back. "I've hurt you. I'm...oh, my God. Please don't die, Alex." She laid his head back onto the carpet and he did his best to give her a reassuring smile.
She was so beautiful. She deserved smiles. A lot of them. But based on her frantic expression, all he'd managed was a grimace.
The edge of his vision darkened and he struggled to stay conscious.
"There are a bunch of those SUVs careening up in front of the house," Danni said. "And the white van."
She sounded so far away. He didn't remember the room being that big....
* * *
...Something jostled him, sending a slug of pain shooting up above the constant hum of torture that had become his body. With a monumental effort, Alex focused just long enough to realize he was strapped to a stretcher. There was the slam of doors, motion around him, vibration and then the muted wail of a siren. He must be on his way to the hospital.
"Be careful," Piper said above him.
"Like he was my own mother," a man answered.
What was Neil doing here? Alex tried to open his eyes, but the effort was like attempting to hold water in his fist.
"We'll do everything we can, Ms. Roseland," Trish said from just above his head. "Try not to worry."
"He can't die," Piper answered fiercely. "I never told him that I love him."
Great, Alex thought as he drifted back into darkness. Now I'm hallucinating.
* * *
Piper clasped her hands tightly together and watched Alex's chest rise and fall, rise and fall. He needed to wake up. Shouldn't he be waking up?
The shoulder opposite her was swathed in a bulky, elaborate weave of bandages. The surgeon had said he was stable and out of danger. He'd have a terrific scar, but they'd extracted all the bone fragments and stitched everything back together. They'd replaced the units of blood he'd lost and given him a heavy dose of antibiotics, too. All he needed now was rest.
She wove her fingers into his and squeezed gently. His strong, callused hand felt cold to her. Was that normal? The heart monitor showed a strong, steady beat, but what did it know?
She shivered, remembering her terror at seeing him shot, lying helpless and bleeding. She didn't think she'd ever get over it. She knew she'd never forget.
Piper pressed her forehead to their clasped hands. "Please don't leave me," she whispered. "I don't think I could bear it."
"You...said you loved me."
She looked up. Warm, golden brown eyes regarded her steadily and her heart leaped in her chest. "You're awake."
"Is it true?"
Heat spread over her cheeks. "Maybe," she muttered, feeling foolish.
"You don't look happy about it."
"I...." She sat up straighter. "You're an awful lot of trouble, Alex Jensen. Why should I be happy about it?"
A beautiful smile spread over his precious face. "You're not exactly a cake walk, sweetheart."
Her heart beat faster and a delighted warmth spread through her stomach at the endearment. "Call me crazy, but yes, I do love you."
They grinned at each other.
"How long since I was shot?" Alex asked after a moment.
"Your...um, team brought you in last night. It's Tuesday afternoon."
"What happened to Jamison?"
"He's down the hall surrounded by cops. And people who look meaner than cops."
"Agents."
A troubled frown tugged down her brow. "Is it true? What Carl said?"
He released a long breath but kept his gaze locked with hers. "I can't tell you."
She looked at their clasped hands and a thread of sorrow quivered through her. Could two people ever have a future together when they were forbidden to really know each other?
He stroked the line of her jaw with the tips of his fingers then gently lifted her chin. "But if I could, I'd say 'yes.' And then I'd tell you that I worked for an offshoot of a secret government organization that supports investigative efforts."
"What you told me before. In the meadow. How much—"
"Everything about my family is true and most of what I said about me."
"But you're not really an amateur detective."
"Not exactly."
"Or a bodyguard?"
"Possibly a little," he admitted.
"Why are you telling me this now? Won't you get in trouble?"
His gaze heated, burning with an intensity that made her feel like she was the only woman he would ever want or need. "Did my pants make it to the hospital with me?"
Piper blinked. "That's not exactly what I was expecting to hear."
"Pants?"
"Um...hold on." She leaned over and retrieved his jeans from the bottom drawer of the rolling stand next to the bed. "Trish wouldn't let the hospital launder them, so there's still blood stains."
"Check the front right pocket."
Puzzled, she did as he asked and came up with a small velvet jewelry box. Her mouth went dry.
"Open it."
With shaking hands, Piper snapped open the top. Set in a platinum band, a single clear diamond solitaire with twin rows of smaller stones running down each side sparkled back at her. She struggled to breathe.
"Marry me, Piper," Alex said.
"For real?"
"Forever." He smiled. "I told you a lot could happen in a week."