Alive at 5 (Entangled Ignite) (22 page)

Chapter Thirty

Sam heard Zack fall to the floor with a moan.

Her muscles went weak. “Zack!” She peered around the corner of the bar. No one had a gun pointed her way, so she bolted out toward him.

She almost stumbled over a body. Robert was sprawled across the floor, bright red stains soaking into the beige carpet under him. His eyes were open and glassy.

Oh, sweet Jesus.
He was dead.

“I had to shoot the fucker.” Zack’s voice was weak, but at least he was still conscious.

She let out a rush of air as she reached him, dropping to her knees. “Where are you hit?” She touched his face first, her heart racing. She ran her fingers down his body. He was putting off waves of heat, but no blood was pumping onto his shirt.

He struggled to sit halfway up, resting on his elbows. “I’m okay. The fucker was dragging you away. I had no choice.”

Her gaze locked into a hole in his shirt on his left side. He pushed up and ripped open his shirt. He was wearing a Kevlar vest.

The air whooshed out of her lungs. “Oh, thank God.” She threw her arms around him.

He tumbled backward. “Ouch!” Despite the sound of protest, his arms wrapped around her, squeezing tight. “Damn. My ribs will never be the same.” He rolled her over so she lay by his side. “Be gentle with me.”

Tears welled up as she nodded. “George?” She sat up and scanned the room.

“Over here.”

He was sitting with his back against the opposite bulkhead, looking dazed. Scott Fitzpatrick was slumped over in a heap next to him. Dead?

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Never better.” He cocked a brow and chuckled.

“Really? This is funny to you?” Freaking men.

“Fucking-A. Did you see that? Zack nailed the bastard while he was still holding onto me!” His eyes shone with hero-worship as he looked at Zack. “That was frikkin’
awesome,
dude.”

She just shook her head, and glanced at Scott Fitzpatrick, who was apparently still alive—his breathing was shallow and raspy but steady. Zach crawled over to secure his wrists with zip-ties.

“What do we do now?” she asked.

“Backup and paramedics are on the way,” Zach told her.

She let out a sigh of relief. “So, it’s over.”

“I wish we’d been able to take both Fitzpatricks alive. They both deserve to swing.” Zack stood, both hands on his hips, looking angry but focused.

George pulled himself up off the floor. His tall, lanky body didn’t make it all the way vertical. Still bent at an odd angle, he groaned. “My back is shot. No pun intended.”

She rolled her eyes. “Glad to see you still have your sense of humor.”

She waited for a reaction from Zack, but he was pacing the room. “What are you looking for?”

“Won’t know until I find it.”

“Yeah, about that confession you wanted?” Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

“Thanks for asking about my uncle.” Zack stopped dead in his tracks, turning to look at George. “Please tell me you managed to get that on video.” His voice held such hope.

“Sorry, no. They made me turn it off.”

Zack resumed pacing around the cabin.

“However,” she said with a rush of satisfaction and joy. “I got the entire conversation on my undercover mini button cam.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Sam had around thirty minutes before C
atch Me if You Can
, now captained by a U.S. Coast Guard Petty Officer, returned to dock in Port Orange. Thirty minutes to get cleaned up, get her shit together, get her story straight, and get her plan to fix her mess of a life in order.

Only her life no longer felt so disastrous. Zack was alive, and she had him with her.

At least figuratively.

Standing on deck alone, the warm wind whipping through her already tussled hair, she wondered what would happen to the two of them once they made shore. Would he have to leave her? He had just shot and killed a man. There would be an internal investigation.

Would she have to leave him? Her heart ached at the thought. “How are we both going to get out of this situation without being fired? Or arrested?” she asked herself out loud.

“Sam, I have a plan.”

She jumped at the sound of Zack’s voice behind her.

He’d just called her Sam. He’d never done that before. He had always called her Samantha. She looked up into his eyes, longing to put her questions behind them. “You always have a plan. Most of the time the plan involves something dangerous and even illegal.”

“If I spell it out for you, will you stop worrying?”

“Are we negotiating?”

“Jesus, Sam.” He pulled her to him, locking her lips with his. His kiss was intense and way too short. When he pulled away, his eyes were on fire. “Here’s your scoop. When we get back to Port Orange, the local police department will be waiting for us. When I called them last night, they almost creamed their pants at the thought of such a high-profile bust. They will arrest Scott Fitzpatrick, with the assistance of the Coast Guard and the FDLE, of course.”

Her heart sped up. “Your bosses know you’re here.”

“Confessed last night.”

“And you still have a job?”

“I told them I wanted to check out the vacation my uncle went on and I ran into a hot young reporter who’d uncovered some important clues the FDLE missed. Okay, maybe I didn’t say hot. I did tell them I’d been tailing you and your evidence and keeping it safe until we could get back to shore. That explains why I was on the yacht, and why I had to use force.”

“You told them all that and they didn’t fire you?”

“Haven’t yet. But they’re very interested in seeing what evidence you have.”

She dropped her gaze. “Including the evidence you took from me.”

He lifted her chin.

Something in his gaze shifted.

This new vulnerable look tugged at her heart.

Then he pulled George’s video card out of his jeans pocket. “I should be turning this evidence over to my superiors. But I’m giving it back to you.” He handed her the video card.

Her heart swelled. “Why?”

“When I first met you my goal was to keep you from splashing any evidence you uncovered all over the evening news. Now, that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I’m trusting you to make sure this video and the confession you videotaped get into the news before prosecutors and defense attorneys get involved. I want the public to hear the truth, and I want them to hear it from you.”

Her breath stilled. He was trusting her with one of the goals most important to him—justice for his murdered uncle. “I have evidence that will guarantee Scott Fitzpatrick will be charged with murder, on top of all those other fifty-eight counts.”

“And you have the power to follow this story and make sure it doesn’t die, that he doesn’t get off by paying off some greedy judge or financing a get out of jail free pass.”

“Not going to happen. I promise. Not on my watch. I’ll see this through for you.”

“One more thing.”

“Anything.”

“You can’t use my name or face in any of your stories,” he said. “I have to remain an anonymous source, and I’m trusting you not to reveal my real part in this investigation. If you do, I will get fired.”

“Protect my source. I can do that.”

“And don’t worry. You’ll get your exclusive.”

She threw her arms around his neck.

“Which means you’ll keep your job,” he huffed as she continued to squeeze the air out of him.

Zack Hunter was a changed man. Maybe she’d changed him. Maybe finding the truth about his uncle had worked, too. Whatever it was, he was now trusting her with the two most important things in his life. His honor and his reputation.

But she still didn’t know if he was healed enough to trust her with his damaged heart.

Chapter Thirty-Two

A wave of warm, tropical air blasted Sam as she stepped off
Catch Me if You Can
. They’d docked again at the Port Orange Marina, and police officers moved onboard as she and Zack tried to get off the vessel.

“First ones off the boat?”

She jumped at the sound of Stan Delamonte’s voice.
Her boss? Here?
Her heart flip-flopped.
Shit.

“Hear you’ve got a hell of a story, Sam.”
Yep. That’s Stan.
She stumbled.

Zack steadied her. “Watch that last step.”

“Well?” Stan asked when she reached his side. “Are you going to introduce me to—”

“Zack Hunter, this is Stan Delamonte. He’s my boss at the news station.” Before the men could even shake hands, she faced her boss. “What are
you
doing here? How did you find us?”

Stan stepped around her and shook Zack’s hand. She noticed the firm grip and the hard shake.
Men.
“You left me a few pertinent details on your voicemail. I used to be a reporter, remember?” Then to Zack, “I understand you saved my reporter’s life today.”

Zack shrugged off the compliment. “Your reporter solved the mystery the FDLE has been investigating for months. I guess we can call it even.”

Stan acknowledged Zack with a knowing look and turned his attention back to her. “You and I need to have a little sit down.”

“Stan—”

“And we will, right after you do your live shot at noon.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You brought a live truck?” She didn’t need him to answer. A satellite truck, from their sister station in Orlando, sat about fifty feet in front of her, ready to beam video from Port Orange all the way to Tampa.
Oh boy.
She waited for the familiar tightening in her chest to begin. But this time it didn’t. “Where’s George?”

Stan pointed. “George, who obviously still has his mind on
work
, already shot the ambulance taking the injured guy’s body off the yacht. The Medical Examiner is here, onboard still I think. George got his arrival as well. And now he’s over in the sat truck dubbing that undercover confession video so he can send it back to the station.” Stan shot Zack a look. “Don’t even bother. Some other FDLE guy already asked. I need a court order to share that video.” Her boss placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s eleven fifteen. Say good-bye to your…partner. You’ve got forty-five minutes to get your shit together and tell the world about the incredible plot you’ve just uncovered.”

“I…” She swallowed, glancing from Zack to Stan, and then back to Zack.

“You’re wasting precious time, kid.” Stan’s facial muscles twitched.

“You trust me, Stan, to walk in front of that camera and start talking about what has happened over the last couple of weeks? You don’t want me to vet this information through you first?” The thought did make her a little uneasy. She knew what a big story she and Zack had uncovered. A lot of highly paid lawyers were likely to pick through every word that came out of her mouth.

Stan shook his head. “We don’t have time. And I do trust you. Just stick to the facts. Interview your partner here with the FDLE. You’ve got a solid source in him.”

She flipped a look Zack’s way. “I’ve got an anonymous source. And he’s going to stay anonymous.”

“Why?”

“Because I gave him my word, that’s why.”

“You can’t make that kind of deal without consulting me. Your
anonymous source
shot and killed one man and injured another. You can’t keep him out of the story.”

“My
anonymous source
is not the story, Stan. The videotaped confession I have is the story, and the shootout that was also videotaped by my undercover camera will tell its own story. I’m keeping his name out of it. Masking his face if he’s in the video.”

“Not if I tell you otherwise.”

“If you tell me otherwise, I will quit. Before your noon newscast and before you can get your exclusive for the TV station.” Wow. She couldn’t believe she’d said that. Her chest puffed up.

“Is that a threat?”

“Stan,” she sighed.
Take it down a notch.
“I don’t need a source for this story. I was a witness myself, and the video will back up every word I tell the viewers. I need you to trust me on this.”

“You’re not going to freeze up on me?”

Figured Stan would get a last jab in. Sam lifted her chin. “Not ever again.”

…

Sam went in search of Zack, who had disappeared into the main building of the marina looking for a place to clean up. Down the main hallway, she heard a man groan. Not just any man.
Her
man. The moan came from within a single bathroom next to the main office. She held her breath.

Zack had left the door open a crack.

She peeked in, trying not to make a sound.

Zack was facing the mirror, his shirt off. One arm was lifted above his head as he ran fingers over the left side of his chest.

Watching him move took her breath away. He was physically perfect. Lean waist, rippled abs, no body fat. She just wanted to savor the sight of him for a few moments, before he saw her.

What a different man Zack Hunter had turned out to be than she’d first thought. He wasn’t the arrogant party boy she’d met at the drop zone, or the hard-assed ex-military cop he wanted to appear. She had fallen in love with the wounded, recovering soul she’d uncovered beneath the façade.

He lifted his other arm. She’d explored his body a few times, but always in a rush of passion. Now she took her time and drank in his lean form, savoring each ripple of flesh over muscle.

He leaned over the sink and splashed water on his face. He straightened and groaned again, his hand shooting to his chest. A large purple and red mark splashed across the left side of his flesh, like a child’s messy painting.

“Oh, my God.” The words whooshed out. “That must really have hurt.”

He whipped around, then his body relaxed and his eyes lit up. “Spying on me?”

She gave him a little smile. “Well, I
am
Bond. Samantha Bond, right?”

He chuckled.

“Are you okay? Those bruises look pretty nasty.”

He tilted his head. “Hmm. Maybe you better check me over to make sure…”

Her heart fluttered like a drunken butterfly’s wings. Excitement spilled through her veins. “Oh. I guess I could do that.”

“Shut the door behind you.” He leaned back against the vanity. “And lock it.”

Her insides danced. “I take it you’re feeling pretty good.”

He looked at her with dark, lust-filled eyes. “You tell me.”

She closed the door and moved toward him, taking slow, measured steps. She didn’t want to look too anxious or too needy, but she was desperate to grab hold of him and touch her fill. Carefully, of course.

In front of him, she traced a finger across the vicious mark where a bullet would have blasted a hole in him. He winced a little. Swallowing a painful lump, she realized how close she’d come to losing him.

He touched her face.

A rush of raw need swept over her. Once this day was over, who knew what would happen? Zack still hadn’t talked about the future. Their future. She blew out a breath and disengaged herself from the heated circle of his embrace. What if she never saw him again?

“Sam?” he asked in a husky voice.

“I have to know,” she said.

His eyes narrowed. “Now is not the time to play reporter.” He put his hands on her waist and pulled her back to him.

She resisted the strong urge to press into his rock hard body, to feel how much he wanted her. “I’m not.”

“Good.” He tugged harder, until she lost her footing and fell into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and his warm lips found the sensitive spot of flesh between her shoulder and her neck.

Instinctively, her shoulders hunched up.

He forced them back down and began nibbling her so gently the hair on her nape sizzled. He was so damn good at this.

“Stop,” she moaned.

“Stop what?” he whispered, his breath hot and demanding on her skin. He ran his fingers through her hair and pulled her head back until her neck was totally exposed. “Are you glad I’m alive?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because—” She hesitated.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I—” The words clogged in her throat.

“I
need
to hear you say it.” His voice dropped a register, deep, low, and needy. He ran his lips up her throat until chill bumps erupted all across her skin.

With the last ounce of reserve she had left, she placed both hands on his chest and put distance between them. “I need you to answer a few questions first.”

He stepped back and looked at her through suspicious eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

With a grunt of disbelief, her handsome lover leaned back against the counter, putting cold air and distance between them. “We almost died today, both of us. Can’t we forgo the questions and get right to the—”

“No. You left me on the morning after the best night of my life, and I have to know why.”

“It was? The best?” He raked her with a bad boy smile. “Really?”

Sam gave him an unrelenting stare. “Cut the crap. Open up to me. For real. It’s now or never.”

His smile faltered and his laughing eyes slowly went serious. After a forever-like pause, he said, “Okay. I left you because I had an appointment at the local hospital to get into the hyperbaric chamber. I didn’t want to wake you for that. And I guess I was a little embarrassed about needing the medical help. When I got back to the room, you were gone. I knew exactly where to find you. You scared the shit out of me. I barely made it to the marina in time to jump on the yacht undetected. That was ballsy of you, Sam.”

“But you took my video evidence with you. Why?”

“Couldn’t risk you flashing it all over the news before I could make an arrest.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I was determined to nail the person who murdered my uncle. You knew that from day one.”

“At any cost?”

“We’ve already had this conversation. We’ve both admitted we used each other. In the beginning.”

Her stomach flip-flopped. “And now?”

“And now things are different. We’ve gotten to know each other. Both seen past the walls.” Gently he placed both his hands on her cheeks, cradling her face, making it impossible to look away. “All my life I wished for someone to care about me the way I see you care about your family. Your sister and your mother. And George.”

All she saw in his eyes was sincerity…wrapped in a blanket of vulnerability. Emotion choked her, straining the muscles of her throat. She could only manage a squeak. “Really?”

“Why do you think I paid your mother’s bill? I hoped it would bring you back to me.”

“But you had no way of knowing it would. You gave me that money with no strings attached. That was the moment I think I started loving you.”

He smiled, unlike any smile she’d seen on him before. “I’m not sure I heard you right.” The joy in his face went deep, and his eyes danced with the mischief she’d grown to expect and to desire more than anything on earth. “What was that last part?”

“Oh, boy.” She rolled her eyes at him, even as a wave of happiness cascaded over her. She used to think Zack Hunter didn’t need anyone. He’d probably even thought that himself. But no longer. “I love you. And I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.” She raised a brow and looked up at him expectantly.

He laughed. “My turn, eh?”

“Ya think?”

His eyes softened. “I started loving you the moment you agreed to ride in that F-16. I knew you were terrified. But any woman who could face her fears like that, she’s the kind of woman I wanted to—”

She gently placed her hands on his bare chest. “I know what you wanted to do with that woman.” His skin felt moist and hot.

“Nothing’s changed, Sam.”

A knock on the door.

“Steele. Five minutes until airtime. Finish brushing your hair. Or whatever the hell you’re doing in there. And get out here. Now.”

Stan. Her news director. Always blunt and bold.

She exhaled, looking up at her perfect man. “I’ve got to go.”

“So go.” He smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to finish this…conversation.”

Her heart swelled.

That mischievous look entered his eyes. “Do something for me.”

Uh oh.
“Anything.”

“Nail that live shot.” Zack smoothed a wayward strand of her hair. “Are you nervous?”

“No.”
Holy shit
. She really wasn’t. She placed a hand over her heart. Regular rhythm. She hadn’t even given a thought to what she would say. She should be in a panic. But she wasn’t. She laughed out loud. “I think I’m just going to pull a Zack Hunter.”

He pulled back, cocking his head at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I have a plan.”

“Uh oh.” He mimicked her favorite saying, just as she’d copied his.

“I’m just going to take a giant leap of faith…and wing it.”

…

Ice Queen.

How could anyone look so hot and be so frigid?

Zack laughed out loud. He recalled his first reaction to Sam performing her duties as a TV reporter at Skydive Drop Zone, right after Wentworth had died. That moment seemed so long ago, when in reality it had only been a couple of weeks. So much had changed since then. Now, Zack knew how much her job could actually pain her, and how seriously she took her work.

Her face appeared animated yet solemn as she spoke to the camera in front of her. She and George set up their camera in front of
Catch Me if You Can
, while a stream of investigative personnel still moved on and off the yacht.

Zack wasn’t close enough to hear her words, but this time he didn’t fear what she was saying. He knew she’d keep her word and keep him out of the story.

Despite the bruise, the rest of his body felt light, almost weightless. A heavy responsibility had been lifted off him. With Robert’s death and Scott’s impending arrest, he’d completed his personal and professional assignment.

Samantha pulled the earpiece out of her ear, smiled, and high fived George. She acted like she was proud of their accomplishment. As she should be. She was the one who’d put all the different pieces together.