Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (74 page)

Josh lay still, his knuckles white as he gripped his arm. Her hand drifted toward his forehead, hovering halfway. She wasn't sure if she had the right to touch him or not. “You're bleeding.”

Josh's eyes latched on to hers in a look that let her know her heart had definitely recovered from the fright. “Andrea—”

His words were swallowed by the remaining church members who surrounded them, pulling her to her feet, leading her away from him as sirens sounded in the distance. Where time had slowed moments before, it recovered and whipped by like those gunshots, leaving her with vague impressions of a blanket around her suddenly shaking shoulders, a fuzzy attempt to convince everyone she was fine and a once-over by a female paramedic who tried to talk her into a trip to the hospital.

On the church steps, Andrea brushed the medic off for the fourth time. “I'm fine. Really.” She flexed her arm and held it in the frustrated woman's face. “It's a bruise. I'm not injured. I'm not in shock.” She let her eyes drift over the paramedic's shoulder to where Josh now sat, still on the ground behind his truck, surrounded by several EMTs who seemed to be in deep discussion with him. They blocked her full view, so she couldn't see exactly what was happening.

The fear she swallowed had nothing to do with nearly being killed. “How is he?”

The paramedic looked over her shoulder as she wrapped the band around a blood pressure cuff before stowing it into her box. “I have no idea. I've been over here with you.”

Andrea bit her lower lip. “Sorry.”

“All I know is your hero didn't take a bullet.” She turned back to Andrea, amusement and impatience tangling in the fine lines around her mouth. “From here, looks like something's up with his elbow.”

“His elbow?” Andrea stood, her mouth slipping into a frown as the white emergency blanket slid from her shoulders. Surely not the elbow that had already ruined his life once before. “How bad?”

The woman shrugged. “Like I said, I've been busy with a patient refusing transport.”

“Thank you.” Andrea pulled the blanket the rest of the way from her shoulders and folded it over one arm, then held it out to the paramedic. “I mean that. Even if I am being difficult.”

The woman took the blanket, dropped it onto the bricks of the church steps and yanked at her graying brown ponytail. “Honey, you are nowhere near difficult.” She jerked her head toward Josh. “It's fine if you go check on him. It's pretty clear to me where your heart is.” She clicked the latches on her case and stood. “I'm fairly certain your arm isn't broken, but it's coming up a nasty bruise. If it gives you any kind of numbness or you think anything's wrong, you need to get it X-rayed.” At Andrea's nod, she walked off toward the small cluster of emergency vehicles in the parking lot.

How did a stranger know where her heart was when Andrea didn't even know herself? Or at least she didn't want to admit it. The cold truth was, she'd been shot at where she should have been safe, where other people could have been hit, people she cared about. She'd be dead if it weren't for Josh. But the only thing she could think about, especially now that she knew all that he'd told her last night, was seeing for herself that he was really okay.

A vaguely familiar man wearing dark pants and a gray button-down shirt met her at the church steps. “Ms. Donovan? I'm Detective Martin.”

“I'm sorry. I really can't think of anything other than what I've already told your people.”

He waved her off and smiled, then gestured across the parking lot. “It's not me who has questions. The detective wants to talk to you when you're done.”

Detective Simmons and two other policemen were speaking with Berta and the handful of other church members who had been in the building at the time of the shooting. Andrea had been told early on, after she questioned the paramedic, that no one else had been outside. The only casualty seemed to be Josh's pickup.

“Are you okay, ma'am?”

Andrea nodded, but her focus never left Josh. More than she wanted to breathe, she needed to see that he was okay.

It seemed to take hours to cross the super-heated asphalt. By the time she made the trek, the paramedics had packed up their gear, and Josh was seated on the tailgate of the truck, his arm cradled in his lap, staring unseeing at the trees that ringed the property.

He didn't seem to notice Andrea until she stepped in front of him, then his eyes came into focus, even though no recognition lit his features. His lips pressed so tightly together the edges were white, and his forehead creased in pain.

Andrea patted the truck. “Mind if I sit? I think they're waiting to talk to us.”

Josh nodded.

Andrea eased up onto the tailgate, trying to minimize the motion of the truck, but he flinched as she settled in. The expression twisted her heart. “You okay?”

He shrugged his good shoulder and continued to stare out at the woods. “They want me to go in and have my arm looked at.”

“Are you?”

This time there was no acknowledgement at all. Josh hadn't been hit by any bullets that Andrea could tell, but something had certainly pierced his heart. She ached to climb over the wall that had been built in the past half hour, to get back to whatever was going on before another shadow could open fire.

Andrea sucked in a deep breath.
Open fire.
Someone had aimed a gun at her and pulled the trigger. This attack was more deliberate, more personal than any of the others. They knew where she went to church, knew when she'd be leaving...and they'd waited. The calculated, public nature of the violence said they wanted her, and they didn't care who else they took out in the process.

The quaking started in her chest and worked its way out until even her teeth knocked in staccato rhythm. She clamped her jaw tight and wrapped her arms around her stomach. This was nowhere near over. It had only just begun.

* * *

Josh wasn't looking at Andrea, but he sensed the instant the realization hit. When she'd walked over he knew that shock had kept her from understanding the situation, but when it struck, the truth came faster than any bullet. She was shaking so hard the tailgate of the truck rattled beneath him.

Sliding sideways, Josh bit back a groan as he lifted his good arm to wrap it around her shoulders, the motion pulling against the muscles in his back and reaching around to tear at his heart and remind him of his failures. He could not fail this time. Failure would mean losing Andrea, and that could not happen.

Josh froze into solid stone as Andrea shook against his chest. He couldn't love her, could not under any circumstances let himself feel this.

Even as he fought the shock, he knew. He knew why he'd never married anyone else, why he had left a string of three-date wonders behind him. Nobody was Andrea. And he'd loved her since the fall day she'd tripped past her brother's bedroom door and looked twice at him.

He pulled her close, determined to protect her against an unseen enemy, to get her life back onto level ground so he could confess and earn the right to tell her all of the things his heart had suddenly realized.

“This is never going to end, is it?” Her voice trembled.

“Yes, it will. I promise.” If he had to die trying, he'd keep that promise.

“What did I do? Why me?”

A brusque new voice entered the conversation. “Well...”

Josh eased his head up to find Detective Simmons boring holes through Andrea with her gaze. Something about the set of her shoulders under a no-nonsense white button-down shirt said this was going to be an even tougher go-round than last time. He instinctively tightened his hold.

“That's what I want to find out, Ms. Donovan.” The detective shifted her attention to Josh. “You're here again, I see.”

Josh didn't respond. The question answered itself and was asked with such an air of annoyance he couldn't believe she'd bothered in the first place.

Shrugging one shoulder, Detective Simmons turned back to Andrea. “Any further contact with Wade Cameron?”

Josh's jaw tightened. Didn't this woman have any compassion? If Simmons weren't a cop, he'd step between her and Andrea and ask her to leave. If she weren't a cop and a woman, he'd step between her and Andrea and ask for a little heart-to-heart, in a man-to-man sort of way.

Andrea shook her head. “No.”

“How about with the man who attacked you before?”

Eyes narrowing, Josh jerked his head up. “You mean the man you told us was in custody yesterday when you assured us Andrea was safe? Check your cameras at the jail. She hasn't had any contact.”

Something like approval flickered across the detective's face, but it was gone before he could fully identify it. “Looks like this is bigger than we thought.” She clicked her pen a few times, waiting so that the slight breeze through the pines punctuated her pause. “You're keeping something from me, Ms. Donovan. If we're going to catch the people behind this, you'll have to tell us everything you know. Now, have you seen Wade Cameron again?”

The hesitation in Andrea flowed through to Josh. There was an instant when her breath actually stopped, and it stretched out so long he thought he'd have to shake her. He knew what she was thinking, knew she wondered if what they'd found constituted contact.

Finally, she drew in a breath. “No.”

“But we found something.” His admission came so quickly it surprised him.

Andrea's shoulders stiffened beneath his arm, and he wondered if it was shock or betrayal.

It took all of three seconds for Detective Simmons to register the words and turn to him. “What's that?”

When Josh slipped his arm from Andrea's shoulder to pull his phone from his hip pocket, she slid away. Betrayal. They'd agreed not to share the information until they knew what it was, and he'd unilaterally decided to break that agreement. Livid wouldn't come close to describing his reaction if she'd done this to him. Resigned to the fate he'd created, Josh clicked through the texts on his phone with his left hand, then held it out to the detective.

She hesitated. “You're not usually left-handed, are you, First Sergeant?”

He shook his head.

“You were hurt today?”

Andrea breathed in sharply. Had she not noticed before?

“Old injury. From college.” They could leave it at that. He flicked a gaze to Andrea, who regarded him with hooded eyes. She'd retreated to a place he couldn't reach and seemed to be warring with herself about whether she wanted to stay there or not.

It was probably better if she stayed there. He'd only let her down again if she placed any more trust in him.

Simmons took the phone and drew him back into the present. “Care to explain?”

Josh laid out everything that had happened last night while the detective noted it and called over a uniformed officer to coordinate with post and retrieve the only real evidence they had.

As the detective talked with the other officers, Josh completely checked out of the conversation, the personal implications of this latest attack setting in. He still reeled not only from the pain in his arm but from the knowledge he loved Andrea, that last night's kiss hadn't been a fluke.

And look what that kiss had done, his mind chided him. It had lulled him into complacency, made him forget everything he'd ever learned about combat. When things looked the quietest, that's when a soldier had to be on the highest alert. He'd dismissed the photo from the previous night as unimportant, a tactical error that had nearly killed them both. His emotions had taken over, and because he'd failed to be vigilant, he'd failed her.

He couldn't let that happen again. Still, as horrible a job as he was doing at shielding her from danger, he knew there was no one else who could step in and do it. It was all on him. And the only way to protect her was to back away emotionally and do his job.

Even if it broke his heart.

* * *

The conversation between Josh and Detective Simmons buzzed in Andrea's ears like aggravated hornets, and it made about as much sense. The sounds wouldn't form into coherent sentences.

Josh. Injured. Protecting her. She'd known he was hurt, but the extent hadn't really sunk in until the detective asked him about it. Now the possibilities swirled like a hurricane.

He'd made that dive to protect her. If any of those bullets had veered a few inches, Josh would have been the one they hit.

Lost in what-ifs, Andrea pressed her fingers to her mouth and battled the most abject terror she'd felt yet. Nausea rode shuddering waves through her stomach, burned her throat and tightened her lungs. She couldn't put him in that kind of position again.

“I want protection.” She blurted the request before she could change her mind.

Josh's head came up like she'd landed an uppercut to his jaw. “What?”

Detective Simmons stopped in midsentence and turned to Andrea. She regarded her for a long time before dipping her head in a nod. “That's the smartest thing I've heard you say yet, Ms. Donovan, and I wish I could offer you that, but...” She drew a breath that spoke of regret. “We don't have those kinds of resources. There might be other options we can look into, though.”

Josh didn't seem to hear the detective's words. He stared at Andrea until she met his gaze. When she did, it was like someone pulled the curtains shut in a brightly lit house. Where the man she thought she'd known once sat, a stranger stepped in and regarded her with an expression devoid of emotion.

It was better that way. The less he felt for her, the easier this would be. He'd be safer without her near. And while she might not be able to save herself, she could at least get Josh out of the line of fire.

ELEVEN

T
wo o'clock in the morning. The numbers on the microwave shone brighter than usual in the darkness of his kitchen. How many times would Josh see that number creep around on the dial before this was all over? He chased two ibuprofen with milk and leaned against the counter, cradling his arm against his stomach. Still, the pain in his arm couldn't compare with the one in his heart. That pain shot fire along every nerve ending.

The few times he'd managed to catch sleep tonight, he'd sat straight up gasping out of nightmares painted with burning vehicles and futile efforts at salvation.

In the fiery visions, unlike reality, Andrea was trapped in the flames while he fought helplessly and failed.

The real Andrea, the one who lived and breathed and tapped on the locked door of his heart, knew he was a failure. She'd reared back and slapped him full force this afternoon by asking for protection. She knew he couldn't do it, didn't trust him to keep her away from harm.

Josh winced against the dual pain. Smart girl.

He hadn't done her any favors by violating their agreement to remain silent about what they knew, either. In hindsight, not taking the panel to the police in the first place was one of their bigger mistakes, but he couldn't bear to think they'd turn accusing eyes on her again.

He'd messed up. There hadn't been a moment since he'd laid eyes on her that he'd done things right. Josh ran his left hand over two days' worth of stubble, and groaned. If he was so bad for her, why did he want to pick up the phone and hear her voice?

Because he was long gone over her. Seventeen years long gone. His inattention on the baseball field because of her presence had gotten him into trouble more than once. Time hadn't diminished her ability to distract him from what was important.

Tight, aggravated muscles pulled all the way into his neck as Josh stretched his arm. He had thanked God more than once over the course of this long night that he hadn't broken it again. That kind of re-injury probably would have ended his future in the army the same way the first go-round had tanked his baseball career and shattered his childhood dreams.

Crazy thing was, as much as the sport had been the air he breathed all the way up into college, once he joined the army he'd never missed it. Pickup games were enough to satisfy the itch to get a glove on every once in a while, even if he couldn't throw the way he used to. That was the kind of healing only God could do.

When Brendan died, he realized alcohol wouldn't kill the pain and turned back to Christ, had let Him come in and heal him. Forgiveness had been easy to find. Release had not. While the pain had eased, the knowledge that he'd let two people die never left. He could never let his guard down or the same thing might happen again.

And there had always been a cavern in his soul, something that gnawed like hunger, even when he tried to fill it. God had poured so much into him, it seemed there shouldn't be room left for anything else.

Light from the refrigerator cast a surreal glow over the kitchen as he poured another glass of milk. He shut the door, then drained the glass and clinked it into the sink. For a while, he'd thought the hole in his life—the one he'd tried to fill with work and every army course possible—had to do with losing baseball. Tonight, there was no denying it. Now that Andrea had dug into his heart and taken up residence there, he knew that void had more to do with having somebody to come home to, somebody besides his mother to send him care packages overseas, somebody to miss him and to give him a reason to come back.

There was a reason he'd become a confirmed bachelor. He couldn't bear the burden of someone else's welfare. What if he failed again, this time with someone he loved?

He clicked his tongue and ran it along the back of his teeth.
Face it, Walker.
He was past gone, already in love with Andrea. Always had been.

Resigning himself to wakefulness, he padded across the room in bare feet and raised the blinds to stare at the driveway. A rental car sat there, taunting him. The cops had hauled his truck away to dig the bullets out of it. They could keep it, for all he cared. Even repaired, it would only be one more reminder of how the woman he loved had almost died under his care.

He lowered his head against the glass, barely cooled from the heat of the day. The fact that he was a fraud when it came to protecting the people around him had never weighed heavier. He'd failed so many people so many times.

Who?

The question wasn't audible, but it was so close that he jerked his head up to make sure he was still alone.

Who exactly have you failed?

Brendan, for telling him they could talk “later.” Lauren. If he'd had a better grip on the wheel, had checked his tire pressure, had worn his seat belt and not been thrown from the car...

Then he'd be dead, too. Unable to help her then. Unable to help Andrea today. Andrea, who he'd also failed...

How?

Josh braced both hands against the window frame and gripped the wood until his knuckles ached and his elbow protested. How had he failed her?

He hadn't. He squeezed his eyes tight as the revelation crashed against layers of habitual self-recrimination. The images of his charred SUV faded away, overwritten by a new film. The attack at the counseling center. The perceived threat at his unit. The gunshots at the church. He swallowed hard. Each time, Andrea had needed him...and he'd come through. Had not failed.

How long had he been worshipping the idol of himself, focusing solely on his own strength? What was it his preacher had quoted from Psalms?
Through You we push back our enemies; through Your name we trample our foes.
Not by his power. God's. Not his weakness but God's strength.

It wasn't his might that did anything, and if he kept holding on, God would never be able to take care of anything. He had to let go. Had to give up control. Had to take a risk.

And he knew without a doubt where his first step would take him.

* * *

Twenty-four hours ago, holding the bottom of a metal locker in her hands, Andrea had felt like she and Josh could do anything. Now, huddled in the corner of her couch in the dark, she wondered if she'd ever see him again.

While she'd been answering even more of the detective's questions at the church, Josh had slipped from sight. When the flatbed showed up to haul his truck away, he was nowhere to be found. Whatever had died in his eyes this afternoon had been because of her. She'd kept him from further danger, but something told her he'd read the act as rejection. If she explained her actions, he'd be right back here, doing his level best to stand in front of any fist or bullet that had her name on it.

This admission cut worse than the night Brendan figured out her crush and told her she'd never have a chance with a guy like Josh. The same night he told her Josh was taking Amy Phipps to the senior prom.

To this day, Andrea couldn't stand Amy Phipps. The girl had never said two words to her, but Andrea still couldn't get over believing they were mortal enemies. Despite the ache in her gut, she grinned at the immaturity. Someday maybe she'd grow up. Most of the time, she rather doubted it.

The light in the room shifted and grew darker. Without even looking at the clock, Andrea knew it wouldn't be long until the sun cracked the horizon. She'd seen enough predawns to know the old adage was true. It really was darkest right before dawn. If that were the case, maybe light would come back into her life soon. It sure couldn't get much blacker than this.

For the fifteenth time since she woke up a little after two, she pulled out her cell phone and toyed with the idea of dialing Josh's number. Not at this time of day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe never. It was doubtful he ever wanted to hear from her again, anyway. The conspicuous absence of his vehicle from the parking lot below testified to that.

Instead, she clicked to her photos and enlarged the one she'd kept of the wall locker. The detective had erased the pictures on Josh's phone but hadn't realized Andrea possessed a copy. She felt a little guilty about having evidence she shouldn't, but the actual locker floor had been turned over to the police, so there couldn't be any real harm in looking at a photo.

Guilt pushed Andrea to set the phone aside. She kneaded the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Since when did she become an armchair detective who believed she knew more than the police? It would be better if they handled the sleuthing while she focused on keeping herself alive one more day.

Something slipped against her apartment door. A slight rustle, then silence.

Andrea sat straighter and dropped her feet lightly to the floor. Someone was out there. Gripping her phone, she eased across the carpet to the door, careful to avoid the creaky spot on the small hardwood entry, and cautiously leaned forward to peer through the peephole, hoping it was true that no one could see in from the other side.

A soft knock nearly threw her backward, a light shriek ripping from her throat as her phone clattered across the floor and came to a swift halt under a table against the edge of the beige carpet.

“Andrea.” Her name passed through the door.

On hands and knees she scrambled for the phone, until the voice came again.

“It's me.”

Her muscles froze as her fingertips grasped the phone, and she dropped back, staring at the steel door. Her pulse raced twice as fast as it had when she thought a random intruder lurked outside.

“Josh?” His name squeaked out, and she cleared her throat. Her voice needed to be strong, authoritative, to make him leave before he could get hurt again. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you.”

That did it. Emotion overtook reason and she rose to her feet, flicked the deadbolt and opened the locked door she'd hidden behind since he kissed her.

Josh stood in the dim light of the passageway, seeming hesitant to cross the threshold.

The sight of him in navy basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt with the old infantry “Follow Me” logo on it made her grip the doorknob harder. He looked like the young Josh, the one that never left her memory. How did he do that? Make the space between her old crush and her new feelings fold over themselves in emotional origami?

“Did something happen?” There had to be a reason he'd shown up here unannounced, in such a rush he hadn't even combed his hair. It rumpled across his head like he'd run his hand back through it more than once on the way to her apartment.

“I needed to see you,” he repeated. The uncertainty rolled off him like steam on asphalt after a summer storm.

The heat that still lingered in the outside stairwell drifted into the apartment around him in a way that left her unsure if it came from the outside world or from whatever crackled between them.

She took a step back to give him room to pass. “Because I'm in more danger than we thought?”

Her question seemed to release the brakes that held him in place. Stepping through the door he met her toe-to-toe, looking down at her, his nose scant inches from hers. “Because of you.”

How was she supposed to respond to that?

It didn't matter if she had a response or not. Josh slipped his left hand behind her neck and pulled her close, his mouth hovering near hers as though he waited for permission.

In response, she closed the gap, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting him halfway in a moment that drove Saturday's kiss from her mind. This was not a throwback to a high school dream. This was an entirely new thing, a fresh realization that the man in front of her was everything but a memory.

It was simultaneously seconds and years when they pulled apart, Josh resting his forehead against hers.

Andrea drew a shallow breath. “Do you regret doing that?”

“Do you?”

She shook her head slightly, and he slipped his hand down her arm to squeeze her fingers before he pulled away. “Then we need to talk.” The low rumble of authority in his voice sent warm shivers across her stomach. She was not standing in front of a man who was about to renege on his actions again.

“I'm sorry I barged in on you like that.” Josh wandered to the window and peeked out, keeping his back to her.

“I'm not.” A nervous laugh escaped her. “I just...” She fluttered her hands when he turned back to look at her. “What brought that on?”

Josh threw his head back and exhaled loudly, exposing his Adam's apple.

Don't go there.
Andrea forced herself into sanity before she planted a kiss where there was no permission to go. She had a feeling they were treading rocky ground in more ways than one, that this moment might be more dangerous than any they'd faced in the past few days.

When he lowered his eyes to hers, she saw a new resolve shining at her. “You said I was hiding something.”

The weight of unspoken truth sank Andrea to the edge of the couch. This was it, the thing that stood between them. Instinctively, she knew it would either draw them together or rip them apart. She pulled a throw pillow against her stomach and gripped it like a shield.

“My accident? It was the same night Brendan died.”

Her brows furrowed. Why would he hide that?

“But it's not the whole reason I wasn't at the funeral.” With a long breath, he came back and dropped to the ottoman in front of her, his knees hovering close to hers without touching. “Brendan showed up at my door that night, wanting to hang out, and I told him it would have to be later because I had a date.”

It took a second for the words to weave into a coherent pattern. Brendan went to Josh. Josh turned him away. If Josh had set aside his plans...

“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know. If I'd stood up Lauren for him, they'd both still be alive.”

Andrea's hands went to her lips as she slid back and broke contact. “You turned him away when he was in trouble?”