SHELBY (Second Chance Novels Book 4) (21 page)

Shelby attempts to pull the sleeve from her own shirt, but I stop her.
 

"I'm fine," I promise.

"No," she protests. "Please, let me do something for you."

I can see her tapping into her love for me, and I could never deny her that. I rip her sleeves and tie them around my own feet.

"Let's go," she says, standing on her own.
 

"That's my girl," I say proudly as I kiss her one last time. I point in the direction of the sun and then show her the angle we need to move to get to the small town near my cabin. "Can you make it about four miles?"

Her eyes widen, but then become determined again.
 

"Let's go," she nods.
 

We make our way through the brush more slowly now, conserving our energy. We crouch once as we hear the car on the road behind us, but there's no way he'll try to track us without any hint as to our location.

We walk for almost three hours and only stop for water at a stream. Shelby looks at me in near-total exhaustion.

"Blackberries," I point to a wild thicket near the stream. We stand and walk, both of us pulling ripe berries and savor them like a gourmet meal. A few more sips of water refresh us completely. I walk to her and pull her into my arms.

"You're doing great," I tell her again. "Not much further. You ok?"

She nods in spite of her tired body and sore feet. Shelby is beautiful, even forest-smudged and tangle-haired. I can't help but take a moment to take her face gently into my hands.

"I love you," I whisper to her before I draw her into a long kiss. I need this connection, and I need to prove to her that
beautiful
can exist in all the turmoil.

When I let her go, I hear the crack of a twig not far away. Damn it!
 

I should have known better than to stop near a water source. Of course he'd look here.
Fuck
!

Her eyes widen in comprehension as I encourage us both further. We take our place among the trees again as our stealth follower uses quiet intimidation. He doesn't bother taunting us, but rather moves with only occasional crunches of leaves and snapping of twigs. If I had to guess, this man is an experienced hunter and tracker.
 

Luckily, we aren't far from town at all. We continue our slow chase, Shelby remaining strong as our adrenaline and small bit of sustenance propel us more quickly than I would have believed. When the highway comes into view, Shelby sprints across with me without having to be told. We hear three gunshots which snap our feet into faster movements as we cross to the trees in a point of vulnerability. I've never moved so quickly in my life, and I never let go of Shelby's hand. We take to the scrub at the other side of the road and scrape our arms heavily as we push through to the safety of the forest on the other side. Only a short run leads us to the town.

The gas station is our first stop, and I apologize to the driver as I take ownership of his car against his screaming protest. I don't bother taking the time to explain. Shelby climbs into the passenger side quickly, and I peel out of the parking lot. I can see the attacker sprinting to another car, so I red-line our vehicle as I speed off in the direction of the courthouse.

I grab a cell-phone from the cup-holder and shove it into Shelby's hands as I check the mirror for the attacker. When I see an old pick up truck weaving around a car, I know he's found his own ride, and the chase begins again. Shelby checks the side mirror and panics again.

"Don't look, just dial," I bark out, snapping her back from her bubbling panic. I speak out the numbers, then tell her my access code to the marshal's secure line.

"Agent Roarke, code 45358 needs to talk to Dominic West," she says quickly. She waits what feels like forever as I speed down the road. I found a better car than our assailant has, and I'm thankful for the maneuverability.
 

"This is Shelby Keene," she speaks quickly, and I can hear Dominic shout in the background,
Where the hell have you been?

I grab the phone and steer quickly around a car. "Shut the hell up and listen," I bark. "We're being followed. Highway 15."

I hear him shouting at someone to send back up. "Get here. Now. Don't bother with the courthouse."

Fuck. The trial
has
been moved. Shelby heard the same thing, and I click the phone shut so she doesn't hear any more.

"Dade…"

"I'll see you through," I promise her again.
 

We don't bother with anymore words while we tear down the highway toward the city and our refuge. The truck behind us can't gain any ground, but we haven't lost him, either. Eleven stressful minutes of weaving down the road, sometimes getting stuck behind semi trucks and losing ground, sometimes able to break away.
 

Finally, a sheriff joins the chase. Not until three more show up that they can box in the truck and allow us to speed toward safety. I hear gun shots as we leave the scene, none targeting us. Shelby should be relieved, but all she can do is fret over the trial.
 

"What are we going to do?" she asks after a long silence.
 

"Hide you," is all I can say. "And I'm not leaving you."

We ride in silence all the way to the field office, joined by several agents flanking the car protectively. When we get to headquarters, my boss is waiting for us.
 

"There's a fucking reason we don't break protocol!" he shouts as a greeting. I know better than to defend my actions at this point. He strides heavily to his office; Shelby and I follow in silence as I take her hand in mine. There's no sense in hiding. I'm already likely to lose my job.
 

When West turns to us and sees our hands, all he does is clench his jaw and shake his head. I pull Shelby closer to prove my point before he speaks.
 

"I just got off the phone with the prosecutor," he growls. "He was able to get the judge to move the trial to tomorrow now that we found you. And you—" he points to me, "you aren't leaving this office. Neither of you are. And do you know what that fucking means? I'm not, either. I should make
you
explain it to the wife."

He walks away muttering something along the lines of
fucking chaperone the damn prom,
leaving Shelby and myself alone in his office.
 

"You ok?"

She nods unconvincingly.
 

I pull her into my arms and hold onto her with everything I have.
 

"Your testimony starts tomorrow, then you won't have to live in fear all the time," I tell her.
 

We hold each other in silence for a few moments before she whispers a muffled
thank you
into my shirt.
 

"Anything," I murmur against her hair. "I love you, Shelby. I'm not leaving you, and I'll get you through this."

She nods and I squeeze her tight. My boss interrupts us, calmer now than before.
 

"Tell me everything."

Shelby and I sit across from him at his desk and relay the entire story for him after he sets up a video camera for the interview. For the sake of the trial, I don't hold her hand while we're being recorded, but the moment the camera is clicked off, I have her tucked into me again.
 

"You," West points to Shelby, "need to sleep. I've got someone shopping for you. They'll be back soon with pillows, blankets and also some clothes for tomorrow. There's a shower in the executive washroom. Let me show you."

He glares at me when he says, "Engle and Lyons are here. They'll guard her. You and I will…
talk.
"

My brow furrows of its own accord while I walk Shelby down the hall. Her two other protectors nod a cold greeting to her. She holds her head high even though her shoulders droop the tiniest degree.
 

"I'll be right here," I tell her and I point to the conference room two doors down. "I won't go any farther than that."

She nods.
 

I hate to see her so empty again, so I take her face in my hands. The smoothness of her skin contradicts her rough, forest-scuffed look. I lean down and kiss her with gentle dedication, and I don't give a fuck if my boss is watching or not. I'm more worried about Shelby than anything else.

"You are so beautiful," I whisper to her as I skim my thumb along her cheekbone. "I'll be right here."

She nods and a tiny smile graces her perfect lips. "I'll be ok."

I smile in return. "I know. I'll make sure everyone is up to speed on what's going on. You're safe here."

I give her one final kiss before straightening my back and facing my boss. One sweep of his hand gestures me to the conference room where he accosts me from the moment the door closes.

"What the FUCK is going on between you two!"

I furrow my brow and speak with as much calm as I'm able.
 

"Shelby is more than a witness to me, and that won't change. I'm the marshal in charge of keeping her safe, and that won't change, either."

"The hell it won't!" he shouts.
 

"The hell with anything that takes me more than ten feet from her!" I grit back loudly. "Look. I fell for Shelby before I even spoke with her. I kept it professional until we had to bolt."

"You call moving into a witness's safe house
professional
?"

I want to deck my own boss for his tone even though I understand what this looks like from the outside. Our glares force tension into the room as I keep myself from blowing up completely. I find enough calm within me to ask about my fellow colleagues.
 

"What happened to Shaw and Banks?" I ask with more respect.

"Shaw is dead, Banks is at the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound to the gut."

"Jesus," I say through renewed grief…but grief or not, the situation hasn't changed. "Bottom line, Dominic: Shelby is safer with me than with anyone else. I care as a professional, but loving her makes me more vigilant than I've ever been."
 

"You've lost your damn mind," he shakes his head. "And you're off this case."

"No," I grit. "I'm not leaving her. You won't make me break my promise."

"You fired Rankin for the same damn thing! And how the hell can you think you love a woman who whored herself out to another marshal?"

My fist struck out on its own before I realized what I was doing. West drops to the ground holding his jaw and glaring at me. Neither of us speak through our impasse. I'm ready to kick him while he's down if he insults Shelby one more time, and he's on the edge of firing my ass. Only my years of exceptional work have kept me an agent since Shelby became my assignment.
 

"Fire me when this is over," I dictate strongly. "But Shelby is
my
witness. No one knows more about her case or her state of mind than I do. Don't take away the best marshal on her case."

He stands and rubs his jaw while he glares at me. "You know how bad this is, don't you?"

"Yes, sir. Doesn't change a thing," I say before I demand more answers. "Now tell me how the hell that house got breached."

A heavy breath pushes from his lungs. "Rankin — even before he was fired. He was tempted by money, and sold out the house before Shelby was even a witness. He was biding his time to sell out anyone who stayed there. Getting fired only made it personal. I should have known how bad it was the minute he let her seduce him."

He shakes his head and walks out of the room, just as Shelby walks in with a new set of cotton yoga pants and t-shirt around her body and a towel wrapped around her head. Her eyes trail West as he walks away in frustration, then she looks to me.

I pull her close. "I'm not leaving you," I repeat.

"He wants to fire you."

"He won't. Not yet, anyway."

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. For all of this…"

I pull her away far enough to look in her eyes. "Don't apologize for any of it! Think about it: if you hadn't hacked the gallery, national treasures would have been stolen…I never would have met you…and I wouldn't be so much goddamn happier than I've ever been. Don't be sorry for any of it."

Her eyes widen.
 

"I'm serious, Shelby."

"Happier?"

"You give me a reason to look ahead. You're the reason I do this job for more than penance over a childhood wrong which wasn't my fault. You challenge me. You frustrate me. You excite every cell in me. You're everything, Shel."

Thick, emotional tears swim in her eyes.

"I love you," I whisper to her again. "And we'll figure all this out. All you need to focus on is the trial tomorrow, ok? Now let's set up your bed in the conference room."

"Will you stay with me?" she asks, not wanting to break our connection in any way.

"Of course," I tell her. I hold her the entire night, and she sleeps off her exhaustion deeply in my arms.

The following morning is a flurry of activity. Shelby preps herself in the executive washroom again while the rest of us prep her route to the courthouse. Her safety is tenuous at best. The hitman knows her exact location and every possible route to the courthouse. Each has points of vulnerability and each shows protective attributes, as well. We've never taken a witness directly from the office before, and the rapid need for analysis has us all on edge.