Hot Pursuit (22 page)

A movement caught their attention, sparing her from dwelling on it further. In those few seconds, Constantine had crawled for the dart gun. His fingers closed around the butt and he jerked it upward, kneeling, the triumphant gleam in his eyes mixed with madness.

“You can't win, Kayne,” he chuckled.

“Neither can you.” Taylor stood, weaving on his feet, and stepped away from Snyder's body. Blood soaked the left side of his shirt, across his chest. Breathing hard, wheezing, he placed himself between the deadly weapon and Cara.

Shaking with fear, Cara went to his side, tried to edge in front of him. “Taylor, no!”

“Get behind me
now
,” he hissed, blocking her once more.

“Constantine!” Shane's voice boomed from the doorway. “Police, drop your weapon!”

Cara sagged, almost falling over.
Oh, thank God.

“We've got this place surrounded. You've got nowhere to go, so drop the gun.”

Cara saw the men using the door for cover, arms extended, pistols trained on Constantine. They had a clear shot.

“Face facts. It's over,” Taylor said coolly.

Constantine's face contorted with hatred. “Yes, I guess it is. In that case, join Jennifer and my brother in hell.”

He pulled the trigger just as Shane and the captain opened fire on Constantine.

Cara cried out as Taylor's legs folded. He sank to his knees and she went with him, gathering him into her arms as he collapsed. The lethal dart had missed and was embedded in the wall behind him. But the gunshot wound to his chest was bleeding profusely, pumping with every beat of his heart.

Lovingly, she smoothed the silky blond hair out of his pale face. She adored everything about him. His smile, the way he cared for kids like Blake. How he tried so hard to keep others safe, as he'd tried to do for Jenny. His quirky sense of humor. The tender way he made love. If only he wouldn't leave her, so she could spend the rest of her life showing him the joys of having someone special to love.
Please stay.

Shane crouched on the other side of his partner, and she glanced up at him. Looking at Taylor, he shook his head, eyes filled with tears. Like her own.

“Come on, buddy. Help is on the way. Hang in there—you hear me?”

Taylor swallowed, struggling to breathe. His green eyes were glazed and unfocused. He reached for Cara, and she took his hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for loving me. Sweetheart, I wish . . .”

Talking was too much, and he fell silent. Battling to stay alive for her.

“I know, baby,” she reassured him, choking on tears. Her throat burned, and her chest ached as though her heart had been ripped out. “Just don't go, okay? Stay with me.
Please
, Taylor.”

He tried to smile up at her. “Bossy.”

His body went limp in her arms, his dusky lashes sweeping down. She shook him, terror punching her in the gut.

“Taylor, honey?” Nothing. Placing her fingertips on his neck, she found his pulse slowing. “No.”

Shane's cell phone bleated. He snapped a terse greeting, and listened. “We're on the way.” He flipped it shut, and hefted Taylor into his arms. “The medics are here. Let's go.”

Tonio stepped forward, gesturing toward a wide section of board lying on the floor. “You're injured. Use that—it'll be faster.”

Austin nodded, face grim. “We'll say a prayer for Taylor.”

“Thanks,” Shane said hoarsely. Tonio took Taylor's feet, Shane hooked his arms under his partner's shoulders, and they carried him to the wooden board, laying him on it gently. Wasting no more precious seconds, Shane took off, making his way as fast he could through the maze of corridors. Racing against time to save Taylor.

On the way out, Cara didn't spare a glance or so much as a prayer for Dmitri Constantine, sprawled dead on the floor.
May he rot in hell.

No, she saved all her prayers for the man she loved. The man who'd fought so bravely and saved her life. The man who, when all seemed lost, refused to give up.

God, I'm begging you. Don't let me lose him
.

God, he was so cold.

Was this death?

Not yet. Being dead wouldn't hurt so damned much.

His veins, his blood, were on fire. Boiling. Even his eyeballs. He couldn't see, but heard people shouting over some awful racket. Noise and movement, the sensation of lifting, going airborne.

A delicate hand stroked his brow. “Taylor, come on, sweetie. Fight for me, for us.”

I am,
he tried to say. But his lips were frozen. The noises around him took on the weird quality of a dream. Began to fade.

Baby, don't leave me!

He didn't want to. Just a taste of happiness, stripped away too soon. Not nearly enough, but it had to be.

Because he couldn't hold on. Cara sobbed brokenly, clutching his hand.

He doesn't have more time! Do something, goddammit!
Shane, ordering the world to jump at his command, as usual. He almost smiled.

Tired.
Can't breathe.

Too late,
Taylor thought, saddened.
Cara, I love you.

The weight eased from his chest, the pain vanished. Warm light soothed his battered body, and he found himself cradled in strong, loving arms and white robes. A good place to be.

Except Cara wasn't here.

Heartbroken cries followed him into the darkness.

•   •   •

Dejected, Cara hunched in the chair beside Taylor's hospital bed. Her churning insides felt chewed up and spit out, her face swollen from crying until everyone worried she'd become ill. She couldn't possibly eat, and she'd nearly thrown up a mere few sips of coffee.

Now she sat staring at his waxen face in a sort of numb stupor. Thick lashes rested against his paper-white cheeks, his tangled hair spread over his pillow. His full, sensual lips held a faint blue tinge. Except for the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, he looked like a beautiful corpse.

The nightmare ride to Sterling would remain forever burned into her memory. Taylor had stopped breathing for so long, they were certain he was gone. Then the surgical team had brought him back, giving him a fighting chance, but with no guarantees. Blood loss and the beating he'd received had left him clinging to life, where he hovered forty-eight hours later.

Compelled by the need to touch him for the thousandth time, she scooted her chair close and propped an elbow on the pillow by his head, combing her fingers through his hair.

“Wake up, handsome prince,” she whispered in his ear. “I'm not going to stop bugging you until you do.”

He stirred, tilting his head toward the sound of her voice. She gasped, heart hammering with hope, and stroked his cheek. “That's right, big guy. Come back to me.”

Taking a deep breath, he shifted a little, groaning.

“Taylor?”

“Cara . . .”

Thank you.
Her throat tightened with emotion, but she had no tears left. Overcome by joy, she kissed his forehead. “I'm here, honey. Let's see those gorgeous peepers.”

“Don't shout.” He moaned. “Headache . . .”

Smiling down at him, she said, “I'm whispering. The doctors said you weren't going to feel too great when you woke up. You're a disaster, buddy.”

His lashes swept up, pale green eyes staring at her, unfocused and befuddled. “Huh?”

“Never mind. Just relax and take your time waking up. The worst is behind us, and I'm not going anywhere.”

Closing his eyes on a sigh, he reached for her hand. Hanging on to her as though she were his lifeline, he drifted into sleep once more. Settling in and laying her head on the pillow beside him, she gave in to the flood of exhaustion that sheer terror had held at bay for hours on end.

When she awoke, the afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, lengthening to evening. Her arm was wrapped around Taylor's middle. The twinge stabbing her neck said she'd been like this for a while, and she wondered why the nurses hadn't shooed her off.

Someone was toying with her hair. Sitting up, she found Taylor smiling at her. She smiled back, touching his dear face. His color wasn't so pasty anymore, but he had dark smudges under his eyes.

“Hey, you. How do you feel?”

“Lucky to be alive.” He started to reach for her, but frowned at the IV in his right hand and assortment of wires running from his chest, attached to monitors looming around the bed. Reaching into the top of his gown with his left hand, he plucked at one of the patches. “Damn, I'm wired to blow. Can't even hold you.”

“No, you don't,” she scolded, pulling his wrist toward her and taking his warm hand in hers. “Leave those alone. They're showing the doctors how much better you are.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He poked out his bottom lip, imitating a pouty little boy.

A giggle escaped, her love for him multiplying a thousandfold. Did he have any clue how wonderful he looked sitting there, the sad shadows of the past banished from his sparkling eyes?

“Taylor, I love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart.” His gaze dropped to his lap. He studied their clasped hands for a minute, then lifted his head to study her from under spiky lashes. “I want to make us permanent, Cara. I want to marry you, to see our kids running wild all over town, giving us gray hair. What do
you
want?”

All right, she just
thought
her tears had dried up, dammit. His face blurred, her voice shook. “I'd say that's the best idea I've ever heard.”

Careful of the IV and the bandages covering his gunshot wound, she climbed onto the bed next to him and snuggled into his waiting arms. Listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. Reveled in the heat of hard male, all hers, and pushed aside the horror of nearly losing him forever. He held her tight, kissing the top of her head.

The door opened and Shane walked in, amazed delight spreading across his handsome face as he approached the bed. “God, you
are
awake! I leave for a few hours to shower and change, and look what happens. It's about damned time, too.”

“It's good to see you, too. For a while, I didn't think that was gonna happen.”

Claiming the vacated chair, Shane sat and laid a big palm on his partner's shoulder. “One of the nurses said she peeked in a short while ago and thought you'd probably wake up soon. You have no idea how terrified we were. A bunch of the guys from the station have been here, some of the firefighters from Station Five, and Blake, too. That kid's been going out of his mind.” Overcome, Shane propped his elbows on his knees, buried his face in his hands.

“Hey, man,” Taylor said with gruff affection and humor. “This
must
be the part where we hug, right?”

Shane laughed at what must've been an inside joke between them, raised his head, and wiped at his eyes. “Yeah, I think maybe it is. First, though, you two are grinning like a couple of naughty kids in a candy store. What gives?”

“I asked Cara to marry me and she said yes,” he said happily.

“Hey, congrats!” Shane shook his head, giving them both a smile. “When are you doing the deed?”

“We've already done
the deed
, many times! Now we just need to make it official.”

Cara rose quickly to see Taylor waggling his brows suggestively at his partner. Her face heated and she swatted him on the shoulder. “Taylor Kayne!”

Both men laughed. The happiness and contentment rumbling from Taylor's chest deflated her embarrassment like a leaky balloon. Never had she seen him like this, so completely at ease.

Taylor was finally free of his demons.

“If I had my way, we'd be married today. But I guess Daisy will want to help Cara fuss over whatever girly stuff goes with the ceremony. Say, a week?”

“A week!” She shot Taylor a look of mock dismay. “I couldn't possibly plan it for a week from now. Make it two.”

“You're on, baby.” He gave her a soft kiss on the lips, then pulled back, love shining in his pale green eyes.

“And I don't want girly stuff, either,” she informed him. “I'd like the wedding and reception held at your place, in the backyard. What better place to begin our lives together than at our place, surrounded by the people we love?”

He kissed her again, on the nose. “
Our
place. Sweetheart, you've got it. Anything your heart desires.”

“Sounds perfect,” Shane said, beaming. “We'll have ourselves a wedding bash Sugarland won't soon forget.”

“How's Chris?” Cara asked Shane.

“Better.” His expression clouded some. “He's not well, though. He's got some health issues going on that he finally leveled with me about. Thing is, the doctors don't really know what's wrong.”

Taylor looked worried. “I'll be honest—Chris told me recently that he hasn't been well. I'm glad he finally let you in on the secret. I told him that he'd better, or I'd have to do it for him.”

“Thanks, partner. I sure hope he'll be all right.”

They lapsed into silence, lost in their own thoughts. Cara was concerned about Chris, too. But she couldn't help but bask in the sheer bliss of starting her life with Taylor.

Shane stood, smiling. “I need to get home to Daisy, but I'll be back. Get well, because we've got some major celebrating to do, my friend.”

“Shane.” Taylor swallowed, suddenly hoarse. “Thanks for everything. If it wasn't for you bringing in the cavalry—”

“Gotcha, loud and clear. And you're welcome. Now get well so I can have my partner back, and get busy making that pretty lady of yours happy so I can stop rescuing your ass.”

Taylor found himself swept into a bone-crunching hug. He laughed and returned it, thumping Shane on the back. They parted and Shane straightened, lips curved upward, eyes dancing. With a cocky wink, he was gone.

“Your partner's quite a man,” she observed.

“Ahem.” Taylor arched a brow.

“But not nearly as much a man as you. So big . . .”

His expression grew smug. “Keep talking.”

“So sexy, smart, and strong. Will that satisfy your ego for now?”

He made a huffing sound. “Only until I get sprung from this joint. Unless you want to play Dirty Nurse Does Taylor?”

The man looked so hopeful, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. “Poor baby. Don't worry. We'll play when you've regained your pep. After the wedding, of course.”

“What? That's two weeks away!”

She giggled at his horrified expression. “Kidding. Goodness, you're easy to provoke.”

“Go ahead, have fun at my expense while I'm at your mercy. Because the second we're alone, I'm going to turn you over my knee for some serious punishment.”

“Ooh, promise?”

He pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “It's a date, sweetheart.”

Safe in his arms, Cara drifted. Home at last.

Neither of them budged for a very long time.

•   •   •

Taylor pulled the Challenger up outside the Nashville apartment and squeezed Cara's hand. She bit her lip in worry, but he had a good feeling about this. Turning to look at Blake in the backseat, he smiled.

“You ready?”

Blake's eyes were huge in his face. Hand shaking, he shoved a spiky shock of brown hair from his face. “You sure about this? What if he doesn't really want to see me?”

“He does. Trust me. And you know what? Even if the worst was to happen and he tossed you out, that would be his loss. You've got us now, and we won't let you down,” he encouraged.

Fortifying himself, Blake sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. Will you guys come with me?”

“Tell you what. We'll get out, but we'll hang back out of the way. You need us, we'll be right behind you.”

Giving them a tremulous smile, Blake got out of the car and started up the sidewalk. Taylor got out as well, meeting Cara on her side of the car.

“I'm scared for him,” she admitted in a whisper. “What if this goes badly?”

“Like I told Blake, we'll be there for him. He's going to be fine, but this is something he has to do. If he doesn't, he'll always regret not reaching out.”

“You're right. I'm just nervous.”

He was too, but somebody had to
not
be losing their mind. Unfortunately that was himself.

Staying a few yards behind, they watched as Blake knocked on the apartment door. A few seconds later, it opened and a tall man in his midtwenties stepped outside. He was a large version of his younger brother, with the same brown hair and big eyes. Older and more muscular. Tough-looking.

But there was nothing tough about the regret etched on his face. The love.

“Oh, Christ, little bro,” Jon choked. “I thought I'd never see you again. I fucked up so bad. Can you ever forgive me?”

A few heartbeats passed, agonizing seconds as Blake stared at Jon. Weighing his sincerity. Then, a small smile curved his lips. “I'll let you make it up to me, asshole.”

With a sob, Jon yanked his brother into his arms and didn't let go for a long while.

Cara turned and Taylor folded her against his chest, his happiness truly complete. The people he loved were happy and fulfilled.

“Hey, let's all go inside,” Jon called out to them, draping an arm over his beaming brother. “Pizza and beer?”

“That sounds fine.” Taylor smiled.

Extremely fine.

Blake's life—
all
of their lives—were on the right path. At last.

•   •   •

The day of the wedding dawned clear and beautiful. Not nearly as lovely as his wife, Taylor noted with pride, but damned close.

He watched her bounce among the guests, sunlight catching the deep purple streaks in her black hair. Being Cara, she had already changed out of her finery into comfortable, holey jeans. His fiery, sexy little rocker. His. At times, he still wondered whether he'd died after all.