Hard Core (Onyx Group) (22 page)

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she almost cried. This
man had many sides and she’d only just scratched the surface. But time had run
out and she would never know the rest.

“Yes,” he said quietly before letting her go, rising to his
feet and walking away.

She watched him talking to Mercer, dressed casually in
slacks and blue shirt that matched his eyes. He looked elegant and handsome.
Not like the hard man she’d met in the jungle.

Though she wanted this to be over, she missed Cristian
already. Her heart broke.  She’d experienced heartache, but not like this. This
felt like the breath being sucked from her lungs until she thought she would
suffocate.

Tears filled her eyes and she turned away and blinked hard.
It was over. She may as well accept it now, because tomorrow would come soon
enough.

Then she would walk away from the man she loved.

* * * *

“Put these on,” Slade handed Alana a pair of safety goggles
and earplugs. She did as told.

They were standing in one of the stalls of the shooting
range he used in the city. He wanted to be anywhere but here. Alana didn’t
belong in a place like this. She fought for the good team. Learning to shoot a
gun went against her moral code and his gut burned when he thought about the
man who’d brought her to this place.

“Okay, spread your legs, get a solid stance,” Slade
instructed, standing behind Alana and spreading her legs with his foot.
Stepping in closer, he lifted her arms. “Wrap your left hand around your
right.”

She did as told, her thumbs touching as she’d learned
earlier.

“Is your finger riding the slide?” he asked.

She turned the gun over to show him she used proper
technique. “Safety on.”

“There’s a round in the chamber and fifteen in the
magazine.” He’d chosen his 9mm for her to learn on and seeing it now in her
small, delicate hands only reminded him of the situation that had brought them
here. “Now, look at the target. See the solid black center?”

She nodded. “That’s where you’re aiming. Relax your arms.
Bend at the elbow. You never want to shoot with straight, stiff arms.”

“Okay,” she said, bending her elbows, but still stiff.

“Look down the barrel at your sights. You have one in the
front and one in the back.”

“I see them.”

“When you’re ready to fire, remove the safety, sight, and
squeeze the trigger.”

Stepping back, he gave her room, letting her decide when she
was ready. She stood, tall and slender, her hair pulled back into a sleek
ponytail, designer jeans molding her curves. A sight to behold.

He knew each of those curves intimately. Every erogenous
zone, every freckle. What made her sigh and where to touch to make her come
apart. He knew her better than he knew himself. Not even with Mariette had he
been so in tune with a woman. Nor had he wanted one the way he wanted Alana.
Every second of every day he wanted her. It made him realize that what he had
with Alana was very different than how he’d felt about Mariette. He had loved
her, but he hadn’t been in love with her.

Even now he wanted to press Alana against the wall and take
her. She was like a drug to his system, demanding he succumb. He didn’t like
the control she had over him, but was helpless to stop it. Hell, he didn’t want
to stop it. Until she was out of his system, he wanted to indulge every whim,
every fantasy.

He had done that and more. The sexual Olympics they’d
indulged in the past week should have sated him. It hadn’t. All only made him
crave her more. Made him feel more protective, more possessive.

It scared the hell out of him. The thought of opening his
heart to a woman again made him break out in a cold sweat. Men like him didn’t
get a second chance at love.

Looking back, he decided what he’d felt for Mariette hadn’t
been the kind of love that would last a lifetime. If there was such a thing.
She’d accepted him and he’d been desperate for someone to want him. But he
hadn’t opened up to her. Hadn’t been able to be honest. Maybe out of fear that
she wouldn’t look at him the same. Maybe out of pride. Either way, he hadn’t
done it. And when he’d tried, it had backfired in his face.

A sign he should run like the wind instead of taking the
risk.

“Relax your shoulders,” he coached.

“I know.” Seconds later she lowered the gun and flipped on the
safety, head bowed. “I can’t do it.”

Slade stepped closer and took the gun from her hand. He
tilted her chin up with his finger. “Because you have compassion.”

Gray-green eyes met his, full of disappointment. “I can have
compassion and still defend myself,” she argued.

“Do you really think you can shoot a man?” he asked softly.
“Take a life?”

Her shoulders slumped. “I thought I could. Every time I
think about what Gavin did to my father, I want to.”

“That makes you human. It doesn’t make you a killer.”

She wilted against him and let her head fall on his chest,
her arms around his waist. “I’m scared,” she whispered. “Of everything. I never
used to be scared of anything.”

Slade slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in
close. Someone shot off a couple rounds a few stalls down and she jumped.

“See?” she said. “Jumpy.”

“You weren’t expecting it,” he explained. “You’ve been
through hell, Alana. You’ve endured more than most and it has made you
stronger. You just can’t see it.”

“And you do?” she murmured against his chest.

“Yes, I do.”

She looked up, eyes wet with tears behind her yellow safety
glasses. He wanted to wipe them all away. “You’re human. It’s okay to be
scared. I would worry if you weren’t.”

“Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

He smiled. “Is it working?”

Her eyes brightened. “Yes. I like to see you smile.”

He planted a chaste kiss on her lips. “Stand back. I’m going
to expend this magazine.”

She stood back while he emptied the clip. And when he
brought the target in she gaped at the tight circle of holes dead center.

“You’re really good,” she murmured.

“It’s my job to be good.”

“Gavin doesn’t stand a chance.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Slade said gruffly. The man was pure evil
and going down. Never had a contract needed it more.

“Would it be wrong of me to feel…uneasy about killing him?”

Slade popped the empty clip into his hand. “I’m the one
firing the bullet.”

“I know. But…I thought I wanted blood. Now, I’m not so
sure.”

“You don’t have to be sure. I was hired to kill him and I’m
following through.”

“Hired by who?”

“That’s classified.”

“Cristian, please.”

He glanced at her. “I can’t tell you.”

“Who hires someone to kill another? The government?”

“Sometimes.”

“This time?”

“No.”

“A private party then?”

He didn’t answer. He’d said too much already.

“Can I ask why?”

Slade slid his finger over the smooth barrel of the 9mm.
“Let’s just say Ross has been in business for a long time and that he kidnapped
the wrong girl a year ago. A girl whose father has money and motivation to have
the man erased.”

“Okay, let’s say that,” Alana murmured.

Dismay and contemplation crossed her face as she tried to
digest the situation. A woman like her should struggle with it. He wanted her
nowhere near as immune as he had become over the years. He didn’t want her tainted
by violence.

“I shouldn’t have told you.” If Gallagher knew he disclosed
his contract, he would string him up and skin him alive. Complete
confidentiality was the group’s number one rule.

“I wish you hadn’t. It only reminds me of what a monster
Gavin really is. Give me that gun.”

He tucked the 9mm behind his leg. “This isn’t the way,” he
said quietly. She would eventually find peace with what Ross did to her and her
family, but the scars would remain. Living with a gun in the house would only
serve as a reminder of what she’d suffered and lost. She didn’t need any more
reminders.

“Cristian,” she said in warning, reaching for the gun, but
he sidestepped. Stopping, she huffed out a breath. “You can’t decide what’s
best for me.”

“Only in this.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. You win. I don’t like the idea
of owning a gun anyhow. Can we leave? I don’t like it here.”

With a nod, he guided her from the range.

Cristian woke with a start. Chest heaving, he stared at the
ceiling of his bedroom as remnants of his dream made him sweat. He’d dreamed
Gavin Ross killed Alana right in front of him and he could do nothing but watch
helplessly as it happened.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he looked over to see Alana
sprawled next to him, sound asleep. Needing to touch her, he reached for her.
She snuggled willingly into his arms and for a moment he simply held her,
unable to shake the dream.

“Cristian? What’s wrong?” she murmured, pressing a kiss to
his neck.

“Bad dream.”

He felt her smile. “You told me you never dream.”

Normally, he didn’t. This one shook him to the core. Not
only because of what it symbolized, but because he couldn’t deny the truth any
longer. He had fallen in love with Alana.

She moved over him, rising above him. “I think I have just
the cure for bad dreams,” she said and took him inside her.

He groaned at the exquisite pleasure as the most beautiful
woman in the world erased his dreams.

He’d failed with Mariette. This time he would get things
right. He would protect Alana. He’d promised her father.

And himself.

* * * *

“I can’t breathe,” Alana protested, pushing at Cristian’s
hands where they tightened a Kevlar vest around her. The heavy, padded vest
weighed more than the lead coats worn for x-rays. It pulled her shoulders down
and felt bulky and awkward.

“It has to fit snug.” Cristian fastened the last strap.

“It’s uncomfortable.” She wiggled around to try and get a
better fit.

“Stop moving,” he grumbled, checking the straps for
security.

“I can’t help it. It feels like it weighs fifty pounds.”

“Six.”

“Oh, well, light as a feather,” she muttered. The vest was
stiff and rigid, without give.

He moved around behind her to check the fit, tugging on the
vest and about bringing her off her feet.

“The vest won’t help if he shoots me in the head.”

“He isn’t going to shoot at you at all,” Cristian said
tightly. “Now hold still.”

She couldn’t hold still. She was too wired. Scared. Anxious.
Last night she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not even after making love. Cristian
had been slightly withdrawn afterward. There, but at a distance. It didn’t show
in his lovemaking, only in his eyes and in his silence. If she didn’t know him
as well as she did, she never would have noticed his retreat. Over the past few
weeks she’d gotten to know his moods, and he had definitely put distance
between them.

Ever since they’d made plans to meet Gavin Ross.

Which meant Cristian was preparing to let her go.

Sharp pain shot through her chest. Leaving Cristian would be
painful. She didn’t want to venture into the world alone. It would be so much
easier with him at her back, offering silent support.

But he wouldn’t be there. He’d made that abundantly clear.
And she was not the kind of woman who relied on a man for her happiness. That,
she could do on her own. There’d been a time when she didn’t need anyone or
anything to achieve her goals. She simply reached out and took them with the
world at her feet. She must once again become that woman.

As soon as she got through today.

“You can put your shirt on now.” Cristian straightened and
stepped back.

Alana reached for the button-down shirt draped over a
kitchen chair. “Gavin will notice I’m wearing a vest.” She slid her arms
through the sleeves.

“He won’t have time to notice.” Mercer spoke from where he
sat in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace, loading a high-powered
rifle. Alana glanced at it and suppressed a shudder.

“Okay?” Cristian asked.

She nodded, though she lied. She wasn’t okay. She was a
mess. Her palms were clammy, the vest making her sweat, and her heart pounded
irregularly in her chest.

“We have your back.”

“I know.”

“Then stop fidgeting.”

She took a deep breath, then let it out slow. “Okay,” she
said. “I’m ready.”

* * * *

“Pull over here,” Cristian said to Mercer. They were on the
edge of the city, near the lakeshore, heading down a deserted road toward an
abandoned factory warehouse.

Alana could see it in the distance, cold and empty, against
the backdrop of a bright blue sky that belied the panic building in her chest.

Mercer pulled Sam’s truck over to the side of the road. Both
men grabbed their weapons and jumped out. Alana slid into the driver’s seat and
gripped the wheel with both hands to keep them from shaking.

“Drive to the warehouse and park in the center of the lot,”
Cristian instructed, leaning inside the door. “This is the only road leading in
or out, so there’s no risk of an ambush. Stay in the vehicle until Ross has
cleared his. Understand. Do not, for any reason, get out of the truck.”

Alana nodded. “I understand.”

“I’ll be on top of the warehouse and Mercer will cover the
road. Stay in the truck, Alana.”

She met his eyes. “I will.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

They shared a private moment, each knowing this may be the
last time they ever saw each other. Alana hadn’t told him she’d placed a few calls
over the past couple days and was re-entering the medical program at Harvard in
the fall. They remembered her and were giving her a second chance to finish her
internship. A miracle in itself. She’d been certain that when she dropped out
of the program to follow her father, they’d written her off. Maybe there was a
place for her in this world after all.

“Go.” Cristian broke contact and closed the door. He tapped
on the roof and she shot forward.

Time to face the enemy.

Driving slowly up the narrow road, she glanced in the
rearview mirror to see that Cristian and Mercer had disappeared in the trees
lining both sides of the road. Her vest sat uncomfortably around her, sweat
rolling down her back.

When she came to the center of the parking lot, she stopped and
turned off the engine, rolling the windows down to allow a breeze. It was
eerily quiet. She searched desperately for signs of Cristian or Mercer, but
they were nowhere in sight. That didn’t help ease her nerves any.

“Relax,” Cristian’s voice said in her ear, causing her to
jump. She’d forgotten about the transmitter he wired before they put the vest
on.

“I’m trying.” She felt foolish talking to herself. At the
same time, it comforted her to hear his voice.

“Cristian?”

“I’m here.”

“I was accepted into Harvard this fall.”

A pause. “That’s good, Doc,” he said softly.

Somehow those words tore at her heart. What did she expect?
A proposal? A plea to stay with him so he could be there when she came home
from a ninety-six hour shift, exhausted and frayed? Romantic vows to give up
his life and spend the rest of it with her?

No, she wouldn’t want that. Cristian was a mercenary and she
had accepted that the day he’d saved her life. He was good at what he did and
if it made the world a safer place, she would support it. She knew from
firsthand experience how violent the world could be.

So why did it break her heart that he was so willing to let
her go?

“I meant to tell you,” she continued. “I…didn’t know how. I
wasn’t sure they would accept me back. I never finished my internship. But, not
because I chose not to.” She paused to draw in a deep breath. It was now or
never to tell her secrets. “I failed out of my internship. I couldn’t handle
it. Couldn’t take the pressure associated with my gift. I was a child prodigy with
hands as steady as a rock. From the day I was old enough to understand what my
father did, I knew I would be a surgeon just like him. It was all I ever
wanted.”

She stopped to wrap her shaking fingers around the steering
wheel, knowing Cristian was listening and not judging. That, she saved for
herself. “My mom died a week after I dropped out. She had run down the block to
pick up a bottle of wine for dinner. The store was…” She swallowed as memories
invaded like it was yesterday. “The store was robbed and she got shot by a
twenty-year old kid who got away with fifty-nine dollars and a carton of
cigarettes.” A humorless laugh escaped her lips. “Her life was worth fifty-nine
dollars. He went to prison, but it never seemed enough.”

The other end of the mic remained silent and she plunged
forward. Too late to stop now. “Dad and I walked away from our life a couple
weeks later and went down to Nicaragua. Searching for peace, understanding.
Trying to cope with losing the most important thing in our lives. We ran. Hid.
We both knew it, but it was easier than facing life without Mom. I…I never told
my dad what I did. He doesn’t know I failed. And now he never will. I never
thought I would be here again.”

When he didn’t say anything, she pushed forward. “So, I guess
I’ll be moving back to Massachusetts when this is over.”

“Gallagher has family in Boston. I’ll call him.”

Not the answer she’d hoped for. She didn’t want him to help
her move, she wanted him to stop her. “Thanks, Cristian.” She hoped he didn’t
hear the hitch in her voice. “For everything.”
I’ll miss you.
But she
didn’t say those words out loud. That would be too final and she couldn’t do
final right now.

“Car coming from the south.” Mercer’s voice came through the
earpiece. “And, Doc, good for you. We need more people like you fighting the
good fight.”

“Thanks,” she said, embarrassed that she’d said that on an
open line. She had meant it for Cristian’s ears only. “I didn’t know you were
listening, Mark.”

“Sorry. Open com. Looks like our guy. Slade, you set?”

“Ready.”

“He’ll be in your sights in four minutes.”

Four minutes. Alana’s heart skipped a beat. Showtime. She
watched, gripping the wheel, as a black sedan with tinted windows moved slowly
toward her. Just knowing who was inside made panic wash over her.

The car pulled to a stop directly in front of her, blocking
her exit should she need a quick getaway. Unlikely she would need a hasty
retreat with two mercenaries covering her, but there was always a chance.
Working the ER had taught her to expect the unexpected and never take anything
for granted.

They sat there, bumper to bumper, with no signs of life
inside the sedan. Heart pumping, she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
What was he waiting for? How could she be sure Gavin was even in the car?

Another few minutes went by, ratcheting up her nerves to the
breaking point. Sweat rolled down her back beneath the vest. Finally, unable to
take it anymore, she reached for the door handle.

“Stay put,” Cristian’s voice growled in her ear.

Heaving a sigh, she sat back, her hand sliding off the door
handle to rest in her lap. The seconds ticked by until finally the rear
passenger door opened. Frowning when no one got out, she peered closer just as
Cristian’s cellphone rang from the seat beside her. Glancing over, she saw an
unlisted number and debated if she should answer it.

“Answer it,” Cristian advised.

“What if it’s for you?”

“Just do it.”

Grabbing the phone, she punched the button and put it to her
ear. “Hello?”

“Hello, darling. Are you enjoying our little Mexican
standoff?”

Gavin. She peered at the windshield but could see nothing.
“Not really.”

“Me neither. What do you say we put an end to it?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Will you join me in my car?”

“I’d rather meet here.”

“Because you have snipers waiting for me to exit the car?”

She glanced at the rooftop where Cristian was positioned. He
wouldn’t have a shot with Gavin’s car parked like it was. Neither would Mercer,
who watched the road, making sure Gavin hadn’t brought backup.

“I came alone.”

“Then you have no reason not to join me. Or, maybe you need
an incentive. I have someone here who wants to talk to you.”

Frozen in place, Alana heard rustling in the background, a
whimper, then a soft voice came on the line. “
Senorita
O’Grady?”

Leya! Shock and fear raced through her.

“I’ve got a clear shot.”

Cristian’s voice registered through her shock and with a
cry, Alana threw the cellphone down and bolted out of the truck. In slow
motion, she saw Gavin climb out of the car with Leya next to him, a human
shield. All she could think about was saving her friend, whom she’d thought
dead.

Throwing herself in front of Leya, she heard a shout,
realizing as she tackled both Gavin and her friend to the ground that it was
her screaming.

“Alana, dammit!” Cristian cursed in her ear as she hit the
ground hard, rolling over Leya. Someone grabbed her from behind and tossed her
into the car. Leya landed on her a second later, followed by Gavin, who shouted
at his driver to go. The car shot forward before she could react.

Sitting up, she reached for Leya, pulling her into a hug and
glaring at Gavin over her shoulder. “What did you do to her?” she demanded,
feeling Leya tremble against her.

“Nothing that wasn’t necessary,” Gavin said as the car
careened around a tight corner. Away from Cristian.

Leya cried softly against her shoulder and Alana held her
tighter. The poor girl must be terrified. But what a relief she was alive.
Alana was too angry to let relief overwhelm her. Leya had been a prisoner at
Gavin’s house and she hadn’t even known it. While she’d paraded around being
treated like royalty, Leya was being held captive. Guilt burdened her outrage.

“There are bruises on her face,” she pointed out. “Untie her
hands.” A woman as gentle as Leya wouldn’t need to be tethered. The plastic
ties were unnecessary and infuriated her even more. “Now, Gavin.”

Sighing, Gavin pulled a knife off his belt and cut the ties.
Leya’s arms immediately went around her, holding on for dear life. Hating Gavin
for being rough with the girl, she said softly, “Don’t worry, Leya, he won’t
hurt you ever again.”