Second Chance (2 page)

Putting those needs on the back burner, he leaned forward, eager to get things into motion. The sooner he got the plans in place, the sooner he’d be getting what he’d been wanting for years. “Here’s what you’re going to do.”

Her face lit up and became more animated than he’d ever seen it.

Man, if she really hated Keeley Fairchild that much, why the hell didn’t she want her dead?

A gurgling giggle caused Keeley to smile. Even without looking, she knew the giggle belonged to Hailey. It had a tinkling, musical quality to it. Her sister Hannah’s giggle was softer and sounded more like a wind chime.

“Mommy, look at me!”

She turned and grabbed Hailey’s waist just in time to pull her down from the monkey bars she was trying to climb. The little knot on her head from last week’s adventure was barely gone. “Hailey, I told you not to go up there.”

She sat her daughter down on the ground and tried for a hard look. When her angel just gave her an innocent, adorable grin, Keeley figured she’d failed the stern-mother-glare test. With her light blue eyes and fair complexion, Hailey looked so much like her father that Keeley felt that familiar painful twist to her heart.

Going to her knees, Keeley brushed a blond curl from her daughter’s forehead and gave her button nose a gentle tap. “No climbing … promise Mommy.”

Another gap-toothed grin was her response. Keeley held back a sigh. How on earth had she managed to create a daredevil daughter? Hailey wasn’t happy unless she was doing something she knew her mother would definitely not want.

“Mommy, can I have some juice?”

She pressed a kiss to Hailey’s forehead and twisted around to Hannah, Hailey’s sister. Though the girls
were twins, they were as unalike as if they came from different parents. Hannah was a miniature version of Keeley—light olive skin, ebony hair, and black eyes. Her personality was easygoing and pleasant. She could be entertained with a book for hours; her sister might hold out for five minutes.

Sometimes it amazed her how these two precious little girls had come from something so disastrous as her marriage to Stephen. Not that she’d known how bad it was until just before he died. But the gifts of her daughters more than made up for the other things. No doubt about it, they were heaven-sent.

Keeley pulled a small juice box from the thermal picnic bag and inserted the straw into the box. Turning back to her daughter, she pressed a small kiss to Hannah’s silky head and then handed her the juice. “Here you go, sweet pea.”

Smiling her thanks, Hannah headed toward her sister, her tiny hands wrapped tight around the juice box as she sipped. Little Miss Careful never wanted to spill a drop.

Keeley turned to grab another juice from her bag, knowing once Hailey saw her sister with juice, she’d want some, too. She was putting the straw in when she heard the first scream.

“Mommy!”

Keeley whirled around. In an instant, she dropped the juice and ran. A large man in a black ski mask had both her babies in his arms and was running down the sidewalk toward the parking lot.

Her heart pounded as her feet flew toward the monster. “What are you doing? Stop!”

Focused only on her children, Keeley barely noticed when another masked man ran up beside her. He threw his arm around her waist, picked her up, and started carrying her. Her only instinct to get to her girls, Keeley kicked and beat at him until he dropped her to the ground.

Terror exploding inside her, Keeley was back on her feet in an instant and running. Her babies were screaming for her; the man carrying them never looked back.

A hard arm grabbed her from behind. “Come on, bitch.” The voice sounded breathless and angry.

Barely pausing, Keeley slugged the man in the face and kept on running. She screamed, “Don’t you take my babies!”

“Bitch!” The second masked man was beside her again. He made another grab for her. Wasting precious seconds, Keeley turned around and put everything she had into the punch; her fist slammed into his head. She turned and started running again.

Their faces red and puckered with fear, her babies screamed, shouting for her. With a gasping sob, Keeley stretched her hand out and managed to claw at the man’s sleeve.

He shot a quick glance back and wrenched his arm away.

Oh God, don’t let him get away
. “No!” Keeley screamed.

He reached the parking lot and ran toward the open side door of a white van. Keeley took a leap and sprang toward him, her arms outstretched. Once again she felt the brush of his jacket on her fingertips. He pulled away sharply and Keeley felt herself falling. Pain slammed into her as she smacked face-first onto the concrete pavement. On the edge of consciousness, the last sound Keeley heard was the cry of her daughters screaming “Mama!”

   Wes glanced in his rearview mirror at the two sleeping kids. Seeing them with their arms wrapped around each other for comfort and warmth kind of tugged at his heart. They’d been so upset he’d given them orange juice laced with Valium to calm them down. They’d
fallen asleep almost immediately. Had he given them too much? Maybe he should check and make sure they were still breathing.

Damned if he needed anything else to go wrong with this job. He had two kids, hopefully alive, but no woman. The bitch had double-crossed him; the grab hadn’t gone down like he’d instructed. The email he got on his BlackBerry just seconds ago indicated that as far as she was concerned, the job was finished: “Your money’s at the P.O. box. Get out of town and don’t come back.”

Like hell
.

Wes turned down the gravel path to his cabin. The first thing he needed to do was get off the road. He’d paid Fletch the money he owed him for his help, though not as much as Wes had promised. Hell, even if the setup wasn’t right, the bastard should’ve been able to grab Keeley.

Since Wesley was the larger of the two men, he’d decided to be the one to nab the kids. Squirmy kids, even young ones like these, could be a pain in the ass to carry. He’d thought Fletch could handle the woman, though. That’d been his only job. In Wes’s estimation, if a man couldn’t take down a woman, he wasn’t much of a man.
Stupid prick
.

Wes parked in front of his cabin and turned the ignition off. Twisting around, he eyed the unconscious kids, and then reached out a hand and touched the pulses at their necks. Yeah, both still beating. At least that was one thing that hadn’t got messed up.

Weird that they were twins when they didn’t even look related. One had blond hair; the other one had black hair … the color of her mother’s. The dark-haired one would be going to some people in Georgia. He’d found somebody who was willing to pay five thousand more than what the Florida people had promised. Fifteen thousand had a nicer ring to it than ten.

The blond one was going to bring him almost double what the dark-haired one had. With the hundred thousand he’d gotten for the grab, he was going to be sitting pretty for a long time.

First, he had a call to make.

Wes pressed a key on his cellphone. She answered on the first ring in that haughty voice he hated. “I told you not to call me.”

“You’re going to pay. Nobody double-crosses me and gets away with it.”

She laughed. The bitch had the nerve to laugh at him!

“I did pay you. With that kind of money, you can find plenty of women to do anything you want. And I got what I wanted. We’re even.”

His teeth ground so hard his jaw ached. “We ain’t even and you know it. I’ll be back. You’re going to get me what you promised or else.”

He ended the call before she could say anything else. Wouldn’t matter what she said. He wanted what he wanted. And he had wanted Keeley Fairchild for years.

In high school, she’d been focused on other things, never dated. Not that he’d ever asked. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him or any of the other boys who’d panted after her. She was always too serious, had her head in a book, or was busy practicing for track. But her body … Wes hardened at the mental image. Keeley’s hot-damn body was the kind boys dreamed of and men salivated for.

After high school, he’d tried a few times to get her to go out with him, but she’d always turned him down. She’d always been nice about it, though, and he figured she was just shy. Then what’d she do but up and marry that rich bastard Stephen Fairchild. Whatever good feelings he’d had about Keeley had been lost. Most everybody knew Fairchild couldn’t keep his pants zipped. Wes figured Keeley had gotten what she deserved.

Things were different now. Fairchild’s ass was ashes, and Wes had been dreaming and salivating way too long. When he got back to town, the waiting would be over.

First things first … get rid of her brats. Other than getting a nice chunk of money, the only satisfaction this job gave him was the knowledge that the bitch would be pissed he hadn’t dropped the kids where she’d told him to go.

Wes snorted. Like he was going to take orders from a woman.

Once he took care of his transactions, he’d lay low and enjoy his rewards for a while. Let the bitch get comfortable, think he’d forgotten about her. He’d be back and show her that nobody double-crosses Wesley Tuttle and gets away with it. She’d either pony up the other part of the bargain and get him the woman or he’d be announcing to the world just who was responsible for Keeley Fairchild’s misery. Wouldn’t the good citizens of Fairview be surprised?

Fury vibrated in every step as Cole shoved open the door to his boss’s office. Noah McCall was sprawled in his chair, that cool, implacable expression firmly in place.

“Damn you, McCall. Why wasn’t I told?”

Other than the tic in McCall’s right jaw, the man didn’t move. Cole forced several deep breaths to quiet the roar of fury inside him. Teeth clenched, he spoke softly. “I want this case.”

Reining in the rage wasn’t easy; anger felt more natural than breathing. Being pumped full of supercharged steroids, along with a bunch of other shit, for almost a year will do that to a man. It’d taken months of detox and meditation before he felt his control returning. Now it took only a few seconds to calm the roaring beast inside him. Besides, if there was one man who didn’t give a damn about having someone pissed at him, it was McCall.

His boss didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know which case. He raised his head slowly and waited a palpable second before saying, “Eden and Jordan are on it. I don’t need you.”

“I don’t care who you’ve got on it. I want in.”

McCall shook his head. “You haven’t finished up the job in Mexico.”

“We got the doctor … he’s the one we wanted the most. I left Dylan in charge. The few that are left have been targeted … he’s got plenty of backup to take them down. If they still need help after I rescue the kids, I’ll go back.”

Unmoved, McCall shook his head. “I’ll keep you informed. Give you access to all the information we have, but I’m not going to—”

“This is a courtesy call, Noah. Whether you put me on the case or not, I’m working it.”

McCall leaned back into his chair, his black eyes assessing. “FBI’s been all over it. It’s over a month old and the trail’s gone ice-cold. Keeley Fairchild called me right after it happened. We’ve been on the case from the beginning.”

Cole ground his teeth to keep from snarling. Getting more pissed with McCall for not telling him wouldn’t accomplish a damn thing. His boss would have assigned the people he believed were the best operatives to get the kids back.

Personal issues could screw up an op. Cole was more than aware that he wasn’t the best person for the job. Staying objective would be critical. Didn’t matter. Objectivity for this family had gone out the window a long time ago. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to get those kids back to their mother.

If fury should be directed at anyone, Cole was more than aware that it should be directed at himself. It was his failing that something had happened to the Fairchild children. He’d chosen revenge over protection. While he’d been rounding up the assholes who’d tortured him, he’d failed at his one major responsibility—keeping Keeley Fairchild and her children safe. The knowledge of that failure burned through him like acid. He wouldn’t screw up again.

“I have to be on this case, McCall.”

“Eden’s developed a special bond with Keeley Fairchild. Jordan’s got a good relationship going with the investigators. You go in and that might disrupt the balance. Let them handle this. Either one could single-handedly bring in those kids. If the children are still alive, there’s no doubt they’ll get them back. I’ll keep you updated on all the progress.”

He couldn’t argue the point. Eden and Jordan Montgomery were the best of LCR. No question. But that wouldn’t stop him. “Doesn’t matter. I want this case.”

McCall stared long and hard, then asked quietly, “Have you thought about the cost to yourself?”

Cole snorted. That was the least of his worries. “I don’t have anything left to lose.”

McCall’s eyes flashed. “Don’t say that. You have a lot of people who care—”

Cole waved an impatient hand. “You know what I mean. Eden and Jordan are more than capable, but they have a lot to lose if something goes wrong. I don’t.”

Noah McCall’s hard-eyed stare had intimidated many—Cole wasn’t one of them. He knew the man too well. Noah’s first responsibility would always be to the victims, but that would never negate his concern for his operatives.

“You think sacrificing yourself is going to get these kids back?”

“I’ve been on plenty of rescue missions and didn’t get killed. I don’t plan on dying on this one.”

“You didn’t plan on getting captured and tortured either.”

“I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”

“We all screwed up, Cole. Not just you.”

Cole held back his automatic denial. Everyone felt so damned guilty for what he’d gone through, but it’d been
his stupid-assed decision to go into that warehouse without backup. There was no one else to blame, but if it got him on the case, he’d use what he had to.