Chill (15 page)

She nodded.

Isabella was a survivor, and he liked that.

There was a roar as the plane landed up ahead, and Luke peered through the trees to inspect the plane. In his efforts to keep his face averted from the plane, he hadn’t looked at it carefully. But now was the time to see if he knew who would be getting out of the pilot’s seat.

It was a six-person plane. Big for the bush—

Jesus.

It was one of his planes. Did that mean—

The pilot door opened and out stepped Cort, harsh lines embedded on his face. “They have Kaylie.”

A deep, brutal fury began to rise in Luke, a violence he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for eight years. His fingers flexed and his skin began to itch. How dare these bastards come into his sanctuary and prey on innocent people? “Where is she?”

“Back at my place,” Cort said. “They wanted me to fly after you, and I said I was busy.” He gave a grim smile. “Apparently, they’d heard I was the best and they wanted the best. Didn’t appreciate my saying no.”

Luke felt the world crushing down on him. This was his fault. He’d brought this to Cort and Kaylie simply by being a part of their lives. He’d kept his distance, hid his roots, and still it had come.

Son of a bitch.

Two other men got out of the plane, both of them packing handguns. Two men Luke recognized from his days working for Marcus. The taller one was Dirk, and the shorter one with the shaved head was Paul. He didn’t know them well, because he’d associated primarily with Marcus, Leon and Nate, and even that had only been when he couldn’t find a reason to be away on a scientific expedition.

Of course, Marcus had usually found some work for him to do that conveniently happened to be in the same
place as Luke’s current scientific run. He’d wondered more than once if the funding he’d received had been due to Marcus’s influence and his desire to direct exactly where Luke went and what he did.

Which was why Luke had gotten out.

Now no one called the shots but him. Including now.

Luke didn’t waste attention on Dirk or Paul. He kept his attention on his partner.

“Get in the plane,” Nate said.

Luke didn’t move. Cort didn’t move. Something passed in the air between them. No words were needed. They both knew.

“You bastard,” Cort snarled at Luke. “You brought this crap to Alaska. If anything happens to Kaylie, you’ll fucking pay.” Cort spun around and headed back to the plane without waiting for Luke’s answer.

Wouldn’t have been much of one. He agreed with everything Cort had said.

Paul broke off and followed Cort back to the plane, no doubt to make sure Cort didn’t take off with their ride.

Luke waited until Cort was in the pilot’s seat. He sensed Isabella’s gaze on him, but he didn’t dare look at her. He had to have faith she’d know what to do when he pulled the trigger.

Cort reached forward to adjust the controls. The moment his fingers touched the dash, Luke whirled around and slammed his fist into Nate’s face.

“What the fuck?” Nate dropped his gun and stumbled back. Luke grabbed the gun and shoved Nate to the dirt. Ground his foot into the back of Nate’s neck and took aim at Dirk, who raised his gun at the same instant.

Gun to gun they stood. Luke had been toting around rifles and shotguns for the last eight years, but he hadn’t held a handgun since he’d left Boston. The small weapon felt light. Foreign, but natural at the same time. Too fucking natural in his hand.

He wanted a rifle.

“Drop it, Fie,” Dirk said. His voice was calm, entirely focused.

He, too, had refined his skills since Luke had left.

“No, you drop it, you son of a bitch.” Cort stepped out of the plane. He had a shotgun trained on Dirk, and Paul was sprawled across the ground, blood seeping out of a gash in his head. Per their unspoken agreement, Cort had taken out Paul at the same moment Luke had taken on his two assailants.

Two against three had not been a fair fight for the bad guys. Cort nodded at Luke, who returned the gesture.

The hostility had been for show, but Luke knew there had been some truth to it. Cort was desperate to save the woman he loved. He would never blame Luke directly, but they both knew it was his demons that had caught her in their ricochet.

Dirk took his gun off Luke and aimed it at Isabella. His finger tightened on the trigger.

Cort swore, and Luke tensed. “Don’t you dare,” he said quietly. “I will blow your head off without a thought if you so much as breathe on her.”

The words were supposed to be empty, but they felt so right. So perfect. So true. A thread of violence working its way through his body.

Fuck. Those thoughts weren’t supposed to feel right anymore.

Pull your shit together.

Isabella started to look frantically around her, and Luke knew she was searching for an out. For a safety route. For anything to get out of the line of fire.

Luke was stunned by her ability to continue to think with a gun aimed at her heart. Anna and his mother had frozen in the face of death. Let it take them. They hadn’t been able to fight. But Isabella was struggling for survival even as he watched. Despite the bullet wound in her shoulder and the gun aimed at her heart, she was still thinking, still reacting, still fighting. She was soft inside, both afraid and loving, but she also had a core of steel.

She was different. Different from his past.

She looked at Luke and moved her chin to the right. There was a large boulder by her right leg. If she could drop behind it, it would protect her.

He raised his brow and nodded, unable to stop the slow grin at her creativity.

It would do.

“Drop the gun, or she dies.” Isabella’s assailant had a smug smile on his face. His finger moved slightly and Luke knew he was a hair from firing that gun.

Luke’s finger twitched on his trigger.

No.

He wouldn’t allow them to force him to be that man again. He would not shoot to kill again.

“Luke?” Cort’s voice was low. A question hung in the air.

He knew Cort would shoot Dirk. He wouldn’t hesitate to save Kaylie. Or Isabella, for that matter.

Screw that. Luke couldn’t let Cort suffer that black mark on his soul. He knew the price.

Nate squirmed beneath Luke’s boot. “Drop the gun, Fie. You’re done.”

Dark anger exploded inside Luke. “Fuck that.” He was doing it on his own terms, and he was doing it
now.

He lowered the gun. Dirk grinned and relaxed his grip on his own weapon. The moment Dirk let down his guard, Luke charged. His target’s eyes widened, and then he raised the gun to fire it. Too late.

Luke slammed into Dirk’s side just as the gun went off. Luke shoved Dirk’s arm away from Isabella as she dove behind the rock. The explosion rang in Luke’s ears as they went down, and he cracked a blow on the bastard’s throat.

Dirk sucked in his breath and clutched his throat, writhing on the ground. Luke grabbed his gun and dropped to one knee. He had a gun in each hand, one aimed at Dirk and one at Nate’s heart.

Nate was already on his knees, blood streaming from his face. “You stupid bastard. It didn’t have to be this way.”

“Down on your stomach.” Adrenaline was pulsing through Luke, and his hand was vibrating with the urge to shoot. “Now.”

Nate dropped facedown to the dirt, and Luke let out a breath. All three men were down, but alive. He’d beaten them at their own game without crossing the line of his past. He hadn’t killed them. He had won. He almost felt like grinning as he looked over at the rock Isabella had dived behind. “Isa. You all right?”

She crawled out from behind the rock. Intense relief settled over him at the sight of her face. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He grinned then. “You did good.” He wouldn’t have been able to risk tackling the gunslinger if he hadn’t
been fully confident Isabella would follow through and get under cover. She could handle her own.

“Thanks.” Her hands started to tremble.

“Hey.” He held his left arm steady, keeping his gun aimed on Nate. Dirk was still trying to breathe and wouldn’t cause any trouble for a few minutes. “Come here.”

Isabella stumbled to her feet, her hand pressed to her injured shoulder. “I think I ripped the stitches.”

He caught her as she fell into him, and he held her against him. She was trembling, and he knew the shock of the situation was hitting her. He kissed her hair. “You were great. We’ll get your arm fixed.”

She nodded and buried her face in his shoulder.

Luke kissed her hair, and saw Nate lift his head and look at them. Take in their intimacy.

A lead weight hit Luke in the gut.

After eight years of not getting close enough to anyone to endanger them, he’d broken his rule, and he’d been caught. Isabella could now be used against him, and Nate knew it.

Luke ground his jaw against the sudden onslaught of memories. This wasn’t Anna again. This was different. Isabella was strong.

But as strong as she was, she was no match for a gun.

What the fuck had he done? Shit! Eight years of strategy all blown in a single afternoon. He released his grip on her, tried to put distance between them. “Isabella. Go to the plane. Get on board with Cort. I’ll follow you in a second.”

She nodded toward Nate. “What about him?”

“I’ll handle it. Go.” He pushed her to her feet. He
needed her off him so he had space to think and strategize. Yeah, he’d managed not to kill them and it had worked, but how long could he keep it up? How long could he keep himself and Isabella alive without playing their games? How did he get them off their tails? He—

“Oh, no! Cort!”

He spun around at Isabella’s frantic shout. She was running toward the plane.

Luke glanced at the aircraft, and something in his heart went utterly still.

Cort was facedown on the ground, blood pooling beneath his chest.

The errant shot that had been for Isabella. The one he’d deflected when he’d chosen to tackle Dirk instead of shooting him.

The bullet had hit Cort.

Luke sat by the hospital bed. The monitors were beeping. The machines were pumping.

Cort wasn’t breathing on his own.

Kaylie was holding Cort’s hand to her heart, and tears were rolling silently down her cheeks.

It had been easy enough to pry Kaylie free from Nate’s cronies. He’d made a call to Richie, his new state trooper pal, and Rich had taken care of business without too much trouble, as they’d left only two men behind to guard her. The rest had come with Cort to hunt Luke.

When the staties had rescued Kaylie, she’d been unharmed. Scared but fine.

Until they’d told her about Cort.

Luke wrapped his arm around Kaylie’s shoulder and kissed her head. Words were inadequate. “My fault.”

She shrugged off his grip. “Just try to reach my brother again. I need him here.”

Luke ground his jaw at her rejection. Of course she’d be pissed at him. He deserved it. “I’ll keep calling.” Unfortunately, her brother, Mason, had gone MIA in the spring and Kaylie had been unable to reach him for months. Luke wasn’t holding out hope for a miracle right now. “What else can I do?”

Kaylie’s red-rimmed eyes were full of accusation. “I think you need to disappear,” she said quietly. “Take your life away from here. For good.”

Luke clenched his jaw and nodded once. “I agree.” He looked over at Cort. “Tell Cort I’ll leave the money.”

His money was what had funded Cort’s failing business eight years ago. They’d gone in together, and Luke had funneled all his savings into the business under Cort’s name, so there would be no paper trail. The only link to Luke was a clause in Cort’s will naming Luke the heir of the business if Cort died. To say the business had a very well-performing stock portfolio was an understatement.

They had a gentleman’s agreement that the money was Luke’s, and Luke had never doubted he could get it back whenever he wanted, even though it was all under the name of Cort’s business. Luke’s house, his truck, everything he owned was under the name of the business.

Luke Webber had a pilot’s license and was registered on their insurance, and other than that, he didn’t exist. Adam Fie had been completely wiped out.

And somehow…they had found him.

Or rather, Isabella had found him. What had he missed? He’d had no time to figure it out, but he needed to before he disappeared again. No mistakes this time.

Kaylie gave him a tired look. “It’s blood money, isn’t it? The money you put into the business?”

A hardness settled in Luke’s chest. No lies. Not anymore. “Some of it.”

Kaylie made a noise of disgust. “Take it. We don’t want it. We’ll be fine without it. Wipe yourself out of our life.”

“Cort needs it—”

She gave him a cold look. “No one needs money that badly.” She winced and set her hand on her large belly. “Good-bye, Luke.”

He leaned forward, sudden urgency making him sweat. “Is the baby okay?”

She turned her back on him. “It’s not your concern.”

“Shit, Kaylie, if something’s wrong—”

She whirled on him, her eyes blazing. “Yes, something’s wrong! You brought hell into our lives and you made us pay for being your friends. I’ve already lost so many people I love, and now
Cort
might die! How can you ask me if something’s wrong? I love him and I might lose him because of you! Get out! Just get out!”

Luke was unwilling to defend himself or ask for her forgiveness. “I owe you that.” He walked to the door, then paused to look at his friend. Cort’s face was ashen, his body sunken next to all the machines. And suddenly, all Luke could see was Isabella’s face lying there. Like his mother. Like Anna. Like Cort.

Isabella would be next.

Nate had seen them embrace. Nate knew she mattered to him.

Whatever danger Isabella was already in, he’d just made it worse.

Unless he stopped fucking around, Isabella was going to die.

His hands curled into fists, and a thread of violence began to weave through his body.

Staying out of the game hadn’t worked. Alaska hadn’t worked. Playing by his rules had gotten Cort shot. The game was on, and he was ending it now, the way he should have eight years ago.

He yanked on the door and headed out into the hall to find Isabella.

He was going back to Boston.

He was going back there for one reason: to take his life back and to protect those he’d sucked into his sphere. To protect Isabella from the fate he knew was heading right toward her: death. And he was doing it on his terms: as Luke Webber.

But as he strode down the hall toward Isabella’s room, a ruthless chill closed around his heart, and he knew what it meant.