Authors: Sarah Grimm
No way could Justin take a shot with her body so effectively shielding his. “Let her
go, Preston. It’s me you want.”
“Justin,” Paige cried softly.
He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t risk it, couldn’t allow himself the distraction.
One turn of his head and he just might lose it all. A split second of lost concentration
and Preston just might follow through with his threat. He might kill Paige.
Justin couldn’t let that happen. Everything he never knew he needed was there, in
the grip of a killer. Now that he’d found her, he couldn’t lose her. He kept his attention
focused on Rick Preston.
“So, Harrison, you figured it out. I’ve got to give you credit on that one. I didn’t
think you had it in you.”
“What about your partner, did you think he had it in him? What made St. John go to
IA about you? He catch you skimming from a bust?” His words were pure speculation
but as Preston’s gaze narrowed, he knew he’d guessed correctly. “Money or dope? Man
like you, it had to be the money.”
“Money
is
power.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Justin caught a glimpse of movement as the kitchen door
shifted minutely. The action assured him Brennan had gained access to the house undetected
and even now stood with the .38 aimed at Rick Preston’s back.
“I bet that stung,” he said, his tone full of forced calm. “Having your partner rat
you out like that. Damn!” If he could just talk Preston into shifting that gun away
from Paige, then maybe Brennan could move in. “But you got him back though, right?
You paid him back with a bullet.”
For the space of a heartbeat Justin thought his taunting was going to have the desired
affect on Preston. His grip on Paige loosened, the automatic he held pressed into
her side shifted. Then, suddenly, he snaked his arm around her middle and pressed
the hand with the Beretta into her stomach.
“Enough!” Preston leaned in and pressed his cheek against hers, cruelly yanking her
head back and holding it in place with his free hand when she tried to move her face
away from his. “Look at him, P.C.”
“Don’t do this, Rick. Please don’t do this.”
The anguish in Paige’s voice damn near broke him. “It’s over, Preston. You can still
get out of here with your life if you release her.”
Rick Preston laughed.
Justin’s left arm went numb. Panic reared up inside him.
“It’s time, P.C.”
“No! Oh, God, no.”
“Tell him you love him so we can end this.” He lowered the pitch of his voice, but
Justin heard him just the same. “Tell him, P.C. Don’t you want him to know before
he dies?”
Justin readied his grip on his Glock, careful to keep his gaze off Paige’s ashen face.
“Please, Rick. Don’t do this.”
With a tug on her hair hard enough to cause Paige to cry out, Preston snarled, “Tell
him! Say it, P.C.!”
“I love him.”
Three words. Three little words were all it took for him to forget himself and shift
his attention to Paige. He looked at her, directly at her, and his heart stopped.
The cut above her eye had been reopened. A slow trickle of blood ran down her temple
to the bruise forming on her left cheek. Fear and resignation swam in her eyes.
Justin caught a glimpse of his future as she softly repeated, “I love him.”
His heart pounded hard. His lungs couldn’t take in enough oxygen.
It was in that moment of distraction, while lost in her eyes, that Preston did what
Justin had been trying to get him to do all along. He turned the Beretta away from
Paige and aimed it directly at Justin’s chest.
“No!”
Paige screamed. She lurched in his direction, her sudden movement pulling Preston
off balance.
Justin barely registered the shock of pain that coincided with the echo of a gunshot.
Seeing his chance, he squeezed the trigger.
From behind the kitchen door, Brennan lunged, catching Preston in the side and sending
them both to the floor. Caught together in a violent tangle they rolled out of sight
behind the couch.
A cold sweat of fear misted Justin’s skin while on the floor Paige struggled to get
to her feet. Fighting against the restraint securing her hands tightly behind her
back, her legs nearly went out from under her once before she regained her footing.
He catalogued each of her injuries in turn. She was all right. Hurt, but alive. A
rush of weakness swept over him. White-hot fire seared his chest. Confused, he reached
up and fingered the hole in his shirt.
“Justin?”
Pain and exhaustion destroyed his ability to stay upright and he sagged against the
wall and sank to the floor.
“No!” Paige cried out. She skirted the couch, moved past the steady stream of cursing
and the wet sound of fists making contact with flesh. “Justin!”
He grunted in pain when she dropped to her knees at his side and promptly lost her
balance, falling against his chest. Mind numbing agony washed over him. He blinked
to bring her into focus. Her face was pale, her cheeks wet with a mixture of tears
and blood.
“Did he hit you?”
Coldness slammed in from all sides.
“Answer me, Justin. Are you hurt?” She glanced down at him then yelled over her shoulder.
“Help me!” Tears ran down her face. Sobs tore from the back of her throat as she struggled
to free herself. “Help me! Somebody, help me.”
Brennan suddenly appeared behind her. “Cut me loose! He needs help. Justin needs help.”
“Ambulance is on the way,” Brennan supplied, producing a jackknife from his pocket
and using it to saw the binding that secured her wrists.
“Preston?” Justin managed to ask as pain grabbed him by the throat.
“Out cold and immobilized. He’s got an entry wound in his shoulder that will need
tending.”
“Don’t do this,” Paige pleaded. “Damn you, Justin, don’t do this to me.” Tears continued
to course down her face. She tore at his shirt. Pleading and mumbling words he didn’t
catch.
“Paige.” Her wrists were bleeding, her cheek already turning purple. He’d promised
to stop Preston before he hurt her. He’d failed.
“Are you shot? Where are you shot?” Her hands continued to move over him, struggling
against the buttons of his shirt.
Justin couldn’t catch his breath. Darkness pulled at him. Through the haze of pain,
he managed to lift his hand to Paige’s uninjured cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Paige paced the hospital corridor. Two hours had passed since Justin was shot. Two
hours, and her body had yet to cease trembling.
She knew it would be a long time before she forgot the sound of Rick’s Beretta. Before
she shook off the terror of watching Justin stagger, jerk as the bullets struck. Of
struggling against fear and his shirt as she searched for an entrance wound and instead
uncovered a bulletproof vest.
She didn’t even want to think about what would have happened to him had he not been
wearing that vest.
Her stomach abruptly knotted. Tears filled her eyes. She closed them and concentrated
on calming her nerves. Rick’s bullet had struck Justin’s chest high on the left side,
disturbingly close to the scar he bore on his shoulder. The force of the impact re-broke
his ribs, but the Kevlar had done its job and stopped the slug from penetrating his
skin. With time, ribs healed, bruises faded.
Because of his own foresight, Justin had that time.
It’s over
, she assured herself as she opened her eyes and stared at the closed door before
her. It’s over, and with time, Justin would be fine.
Yet her body continued to tremble, her hands to shake. A hard knot remained firmly
in her stomach.
The waiting room down the hall was occupied by about a dozen people just like her.
Friends and family anxious to see Justin with their own eyes, to hear him say, with
his own lips, that he was okay. Paige had stayed in that room, surrounded by his friends
and co-workers for as long as she could stand it, but the drone of conversation eventually
drove her out into the corridor. Where she waited, chest aching as if it were splitting
open.
His close call with death this afternoon made her realize life was too short to fear
tomorrow. She’d wasted too much time already, worrying about repeating the mistakes
of her past. Afraid of the intensity of her feelings for Justin.
She loved him. The relatively short period of time they’d known each other didn’t
matter. Paige was in love with Justin. And even if he never returned her love, she
planned to tell him. He deserved to know how she felt, that he was loved by her. She
needed to tell him, without force or coercion.
Without the hard press of a Beretta against her midsection.
She shivered. Mindful of her throbbing cheek, she pressed her fingers to her eyes
and leaned against the wall. If she didn’t get into that room soon…
As she struggled to pull herself under control, the door swung open and a dour-faced
nurse slipped into the corridor. She passed without so much as a glance, her rubber-soled
shoes silent on the linoleum.
Unable to wait any longer, Paige barreled down the hall, pushed through the door and
stepped into the room. She stopped short.
For just a moment she stood there, heart in her throat, reeling. Unable to do more
than stare as Justin stood at the side of the examination table and struggled to wrestle
his arms into his shirt.
Her body ached all over. Her head throbbed. Her wrists burned. But she couldn’t possibly
feel as bad as he must feel. Lines of pain creased his forehead and fanned out from
his eyes. A soft sound of dismay slipped free at the colors of the bruise peeking
out the top of the bandage wrapped around his ribs.
His head came up. “Paige.”
He spoke her name as if he’d been as anxious to see her as she’d been to see him.
He locked his gaze on her as she crossed to stand beside him.
“Need some help?” Without waiting for his answer, she reached out and took hold of
the shirt. He dropped his hands to his sides and allowed her to take over the task.
Paige moved behind him, holding the button front shirt open so he could slip his arms
into the sleeves with as little discomfort as possible. She eased the material up
his arms, circled to his front and began working the buttons through their corresponding
holes.
“Are you all right?” Justin asked quietly as he lifted his right hand and trailed
his fingers lightly across the gauze covering her wrists.
“I’m fine,” she answered, her voice not as strong as she would have liked. “However,
I think that is a question I should be asking you.”
His warm, gentle hand cupped the side of her face where the purplish bruise had formed.
His eyes darkened. “I’m sorry, Paige.”
The lump in her throat tightened. She stiffened her spine and struggled to hang onto
control. “That’s the second time today you’ve apologized to me. Why are you sorry,
Justin?”
“He hurt you.” The fingers against her cheek trembled. “I promised I wouldn’t let
him hurt you.”
“Yes, he did,” she agreed and he flinched. “Not you, Justin, Rick.
Rick
hurt me.”
She listened to his carefully indrawn breaths. Noticed he’d already stuffed his left
hand into his pocket against the ache in his side. Her gaze trailed over the dark
bruise peeking out the top of his wrappings and tears welled in her eyes. “He hurt
you, too.”
“Paige…God, Paige, don’t cry.” He slid his free hand to the back of her head and urged
her closer. She went willingly, gingerly into his arms. “Please don’t cry.”
“When I saw you slide down that wall…” Her throat closed hard. “I’ve never been so
scared. I thought you were going to die. I couldn’t stand it.”
Carefully, she slid her hand up his back and settled against him. Closed her eyes
and sighed when his arm slipped around her and he pressed a kiss to her temple before
burying his face in her hair.
“It’s over now.”
“I knew he planned to kill you and I was helpless to stop him. I believe he meant
to kill me, too, but only after I watched you die.” After he’d caused her as much
pain as possible by forcing her to say good-bye to the man she loved.
Rick’s insistence that she proclaim her love for Justin had not been a final act of
decency, but a move made to make what he perceived as the last few moments of their
lives excruciating. Maybe it was some twisted form of jealousy, there’d been something
in his voice when he told her she should have stayed away from Justin, or perhaps
it was just ego. That she would dare get over him and move on. Something made even
more insulting by the fact that she’d moved on with another cop.
Who knew? Paige figured she never would.
Justin held her away from him, brushed his thumb down her unblemished cheek. “Brennan
waited in the kitchen. Even if Preston had taken me out, he would have been stopped
before he could shoot you, too.”
“The man who cut me loose? He’s the real Detective Brennan?”
“You don’t sound surprised. Did you know Preston was going around claiming to be Brennan?”
“Yes.” She smoothed her hand down his chest. Beneath her palm, his heart beat steady
and sure. “When Rick came by, supposedly to find you, that’s how he identified himself.”
“By doing so, he thought you might open the door to him.”
“I think so. He didn’t know I’d already spoken with the real Detective Brennan and
told him where he could find you.” Her eyes drifted shut when he smoothed his palm
down her hair. “What happens next, Justin?”
She was almost afraid to ask.
“I’ve got the next week off. I guess after that I’ll be riding a desk. At least for
a while.”
“Are you in trouble?”
“A few days off with pay is standard after an officer-involved
shooting. I have a few more because of the ribs. This time I’ll take my time getting
back. Take things slowly.”
“Actually, I meant what happens next for us,” she admitted quietly. “I won’t walk
away from you. That might not be what you want to hear, but I’m going to be hanging
around.” She was stronger now, no longer afraid of his job. And Justin, he was nothing
like…
Paige pushed the thought aside. She wouldn’t think of Rick now. Of the pain of living
with him, losing him, and then finding out it had all been a lie. All of it. To do
so wouldn’t be fair to Justin, because Justin was real. He didn’t lie. Even when the
truth was painful to hear, he’d given it to her.
“I’m not walking away from you,” she repeated.
“If you did,” he said fiercely. “I would follow you.”
Surprise rendered her mute.
“Paige.” His hand moved to her chin, tipped her face up. “There’s something I need
to know if you can deal with.”
She didn’t know how she remained standing. Her body trembled, her heart pounded so
hard she thought it would dance right out of her chest. “What is it?”
“I’m in love with you.”
The simple statement hit her hard. Everything inside her went still. The chill left
her body, chased away by the warmth of his gaze, the warm emotion behind his words.
“I love you, Paige. I didn’t think it was possible, never believed I would find it.
Then I met you.”
She closed her eyes briefly. “But you said—”
“I was a fool. I made a huge mistake telling you I didn’t want a relationship with
you. I do.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Before you came into my life, being a cop meant everything to me. It’s who I
was, all that I was. You showed me I could be more than that. You showed me I have
worth other than the job.”
“Of course you do,” she argued, angry that he could think otherwise.
“Before you I was half alive. Too afraid to risk, too afraid of getting hurt.” His
voice dropped an octave. “If you take me, I’ll do everything in my power to make you
happy. There will always be things I can’t share with you, things that have to remain
confidential. But I promise you, no secrets or deception.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
“I’m saying I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have been.”
He winced a bit as he slid his left hand out of his pocket and raised it, gently framing
her face between both hands. “I’m saying I love you. More than I believed possible.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead, just to the side of her stitches. “You said you
loved me. Tell me again, Paige. Tell me you love me.”
“I love you, Justin.”
He gave her a broad, heart-stopping smile just before his mouth took hers in a slow,
deep kiss. “Enough to spend your life with me?”
“Are you asking me to marry you? We barely know each other.”
“I know I love you, the rest is just pillow talk.” He pulled her tighter against him,
until she could no longer tell where he ended and she began. “Marriage, a family,
I want it all.”
“That’s good,” she said, looking deeply into his dark brown eyes and seeing her future
shining back. “Because I’m an all or nothing kind of woman.”