Chill (16 page)

Adam Fie was waking up.

And the closer Luke got to his old life, the worse it would become.

If he went back, Luke Webber might die forever.

Murdered by Adam Fie.

But as Luke thought of Kaylie, Cort and Isabella, his soul hardened. The part of him that loved Alaska and had bonded with the people, the part of him that had fought so hard to be the man he’d wanted to be…

It died.

“Now there, hon, you just need to stop being so active.” The friendly nurse finished bandaging Isabella’s shoulder. “You’re already going to have a nice little scar, and if you rip them again, it’s going to be a mess.” She patted Isabella’s cheek. “You’re far too pretty for that.”

Isabella’s cheeks heated at the compliment. Pretty was about being dressed up with perfect hair and makeup. Not being bedraggled, injured and wearing someone else’s faded black sweatshirt, but she could tell the nurse meant it. Things were different in Alaska.

It made her feel good.

Her mom had spent a lifetime trading on her looks for survival, and Marcus prided himself on being surrounded by only the most beautiful and the most desirable. He’d made sure her wardrobe and her hair reflected it.

No one saw beauty in dirty, borrowed clothes.

But here…Luke had nearly made love to her when she was a soggy, muddy, shivering mess. She was still shocked by that whole episode. By his story about his mother’s death. The memory made her throat tighten, and her emotions from her own mother’s death blended with Luke’s. Maybe Luke would understand what her mother’s death had cost her.

Maybe, for the first time, someone would get it.

But then she thought of how Luke judged his own father, and her spirits fell. What if Luke was like all the others and saw her mother only as a hooker who had bought an early demise, and not as the wonderful, loving, nurturing mom who had given her daughter so much? If he couldn’t forgive Marcus for the choices he’d made, how could he possibly forgive Isabella for what she’d done the night her mother died?

On some levels, she was no better than Marcus.

She couldn’t handle it if Luke rejected her the way he’d done with Marcus.

The door opened, and Isabella jumped, but it was only another nurse poking her head in with a question. Not someone from Marcus’s team.

The second nurse left, but Isabella didn’t relax. All she could think about was how they’d left Nate and the others alive when Luke had jumped into the plane to fly Cort to the hospital.

Yes, there were state troopers outside her door and Cort’s, but she was beginning to suspect that wouldn’t stop Nate and Leon. It might slow them down, but they wanted her, and they would have her.

At any cost.

Isabella felt the lump of the necklace against her thigh. Still there. Her chip for bargaining for Marcus’s life, and the reason she would never be safe.

A curse and a blessing. Still out on which attribute ruled the day in the end.

But after today’s events, the necklace felt like the kiss of death.

She couldn’t stop thinking of Cort lying there on the ground. Of Luke’s anguish when he’d realized what had happened. Or Kaylie’s raw panic and terror when she’d rushed into Cort’s hospital room.

It had reminded Isabella of how broken she’d been when her mother had died. The loss. The loneliness. The pain. The disbelief. The brutal reality.

The nurse patted Kaylie’s leg, jerking her back to the present. “Okay, sweetie, you’re all set. I’ll be back with the doctor’s okay to release you in just a minute.”

The door shut behind the nurse, and Isabella was tempted to lock it behind her.

Instead, she walked over to the window, as she had already done ten times since she’d been deposited there. She felt like Luke, continually scanning her surroundings for threats. The parking lot was relatively empty, which had given Luke plenty of space to land his plane.

She almost chuckled at the sight of the plane in the middle of a parking lot. Only in Alaska. She liked the craziness of this state. There was something liberating about strangers fishing strangers out of the river and handing over their own clothes. About wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and having no one care.

And Luke was here. Isabella’s smile faded as she thought of him. She had no business thinking fondly of him. They weren’t a fit. He rejected family, financial security and Marcus, all the things that were so important to her.

But he was strong. He’d dived into bullets to protect her. He’d beaten Nate and his cronies without firing a gun. He wasn’t like them. He was, but he wasn’t. He’d been tender with her. He made her feel brave. And she envied his ability to disregard all pressures as to how he should live. Granted, she couldn’t eschew all monetary blessings as he had, but there was an honesty in how Luke lived and operated that she appreciated.

She leaned her forehead against the window and
thought about how they’d almost made love. It had been good they’d been interrupted. Really, it had. She would have done it, and then she would have had to deal with the fact that he was going to walk away. She had no doubt that he was going to get her out of Alaska, and then leave her to fight for Marcus herself.

Marcus.

Tears filled her eyes. Dear God, she couldn’t lose him, too. Luke, Marcus—

A black car swung into the lot and eased up behind Luke’s plane. Isabella tensed as she watched it idle. Then the passenger door opened, and a man in a suit got out.

She was too far away to identify him, but it was clear he was holding a gun.

Another man got out and they stalked the plane, stealthily approaching from the rear, guns out.

Isabella’s fingers dug into the windowsill. How long until they made it into the hospital? She couldn’t wait for Luke anymore. She had to go back to Boston and make a deal for Marcus’s freedom. She didn’t know how much of what Nate had said was the truth, whether Marcus had faked his own kidnapping and it had gone out of his control, or whether he had been kidnapped by Leon. Either way, she needed to go home and make sure he was all right.

But even as the thought occurred to her, she thought of Nate’s words. Of Luke’s claims about his dad. What if Marcus wasn’t innocent on any level? What if he’d sent the goons after her? What if the necklace and earrings were so important that Marcus had given Leon permission to shoot her? “Dear God,” she whispered. Nausea churned in her belly, and she closed her eyes.

She wouldn’t allow her mind to go down that path.
Marcus would not betray her. Unlike Luke, she believed in those she loved. The world was not the black and white place Luke believed it to be, and she would not allow him to take away her belief that flawed people could still be worth loving.

She opened her eyes. “I am going to save him,” she whispered. “And I’m doing it now—”

“Isabella.”

She turned as Luke stepped inside her room. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was gaunt and heavily whiskered. His shirt was covered in blood from carrying Cort. It was smeared up his arms and over his jeans. On his face. Three hours later, he still wore his friend’s blood.

“How is Cort?”

He shook his head once. “Hasn’t woken up since the surgery. No predictions.” His voice was hard. Cold. His face impassive.

Isabella knew what that was like. She’d done the same thing after her mother had died. Blocked the pain. “It wasn’t your fault, Luke.”

He flinched as if she’d stabbed him, and she saw a brief flash of hollow pain in his eyes. Then it was gone, replaced by the same steely flint she was accustomed to seeing on Marcus’s face.

She shivered under the cold assault. “It’s my fault,” she said.

His eyebrows shot up. “Yours? How the hell do you figure that?”

“I came here. I brought them here.” She gestured at the window. “And they won’t leave.”

Luke strode across the room and peered out the window. He scowled as he watched the men scavenge his plane. “They know now.”

“Know what?” She moved beside him, watching the ruthless predators dissect the world that was Luke’s. “What’s left to know?”

“That Luke Webber is Adam Fie.” His voice was hard. “No one Luke Webber knows will be safe once that’s out.”

Isabella closed her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for bringing this back to you.”

“No.” Luke caught her arms and turned her toward him. His face was furious. “This isn’t your fault, Isa. It’s me. And I’m going to take care of it.”

She shook her head. “No, I will. I’m leaving. I’m going back to Boston. I’m going to face them and—”

“I’m going with you.”

She stared at him, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “What?”

His grip tightened on her shoulders, and his face was hard. Ruthless. “I’m going to Boston, and you’re coming with me, where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you’re safe. We’re taking this down.”

His gaze was unwavering, and his jaw was hard with determination. He was in. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore. Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He shook his head once. “It’s not like that—”

“It is!” She launched herself at him, and he caught her around the waist. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “You are a gift,” she whispered.

Luke wrapped his arms around her and squeezed tightly, crushing her against his body. He held her as if he would never let her go. As if she were the only thing left in his world to cling to. As if she could keep him from sliding into the dark abyss trying to consume
him. She sensed the desperation in the frantic beat of his heart, in the cords of tension in his neck, in the way his body was trembling against hers.

Her savior, her man of strength, needed her.

“Oh, Luke,” she whispered. She pulled back slightly so she could see him. His eyes were haunted, so full of the pain he’d been suppressing. There were years of agony weighing on him. A lifetime of regret, of pain, of loss, of resistance. And she knew in that moment that saving Marcus wasn’t her only goal.

Luke needed to be healed as well, and she could do it. She could bridge the crevasse between Luke and his roots. With her help, they could rebuild the connections. She could give him back the family that had been eating away at him for so long. Return his friends to him. It would be safe for him to care again.

She laid her hands on either side of his face. “The pain ends for you now,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

Luke searched her face for a long moment, and she saw the resistance in his eyes. The denial. The rock he’d always been coming back to the surface.

She kissed him before he could argue.

Her kiss was the only thing that could have broken through the grief hammering at him, through the vision of his best friend lying in that hospital bed. Her kiss was the only thing bright enough to penetrate.

And the minute her mouth touched his, Luke was desperate for it.

He fisted her hair with one hand, then took over the kiss. He was ravenous for her, for the softness and innocence that she was. Not innocence, not exactly. He knew she’d been through tough stuff. It was evident in
every word she spoke and in the way she fought for what she believed in.

Isabella clung faithfully to the innocent belief that it could have a happy ending. She could see the good in the world and will it to life. That was a gift, a treasure, something he’d never run across in his entire life. It should have scared him. It should have made him turn his back and snort with derision. But it didn’t. It just felt so good to feel that sunshine on him.

She made a small noise of desire and his body went hard. He growled in response and angled her head so he could kiss her deeper. He needed more than a kiss, no matter how passionate. He needed to be inside her. To be consumed by that side of her that he’d never run into before he’d met her.

He didn’t want a lifetime from her.

Not even a month or a year.

Just now. Today. Maybe tomorrow.

He had long ago learned not to look ahead.

The feel of her back beneath his hands, of her body pressed up against his, of her tongue dancing with his…it had created a need in him that burned so hard and so deep.

He broke the kiss and trailed his lips down her neck. He licked the salt off her, inhaled her unique scent, and he let himself drown in her essence. She knew about his past, knew what hell he brought to the table, had seen him get his own friend shot, and yet she stood here, in his arms, clinging to him as tightly as he was holding her.

This woman who was such a hardcore believer in love, in family, in being good to those you cared about…she knew all about him, and yet she still wanted him.

He didn’t get it.

He didn’t want it.

And he couldn’t afford to suck her into the black hell that he brought with him.

He’d make sure to divest himself of her when it was done. He would disappear into the night and take his hell with him. He would leave her behind so she could live without being under the shadows that haunted him.

But for now…since they had to be together, he was going to get the most out of every minute he had. He’d inhale her life and her energy into his soul and let it carry him.

Her hips were soft and full, perfectly curved beneath his hands. A woman. Not just any woman. A woman who touched something inside him that made him want to be soft. Just holding her and kissing her made some of the darkness inside him fade, overwhelmed by the gentle nature of her soul. An abatement that made Adam Fie lose his grip on Luke Webber. Parts of his soul flickered back to life again. The parts that made him human.

Isabella Kopas was going to be his secret weapon to keep Adam Fie at bay once Luke went back into Adam’s world.

Isabella Kopas was going to be his salvation.

And it began now.

He scooped her up and carried her toward the bed.

Luke set Isabella on the bed and straddled her, never breaking the kiss. She clung to him, her hands wrapped around his neck as he settled her into the white hospital sheets. Need raged deep inside him—

A rustle sounded outside the door, and Luke froze.

Isabella went still beneath him, her dark eyes focused on his.

“The guard was there when I came in,” Luke whispered, as he eased himself off the bed and went to the door.

A quiet murmured conversation outside the door.

Footsteps retreating.

A light knock.

Luke watched the doorknob rattle lightly, and he swore.

He strode across the room and grabbed Isabella’s hand. “Come on.” If it were just him, he’d stay and fight if he had to, but he couldn’t afford to risk Isabella’s safety. He’d learned his lesson with Cort. Besides, whoever was at the door was just an ancillary tentacle.

He needed to take down the king, and the king was in Boston.

The doorknob stopped rattling, and Luke knew the person at the door was working on other options to get
it open. A minute, maybe two, was all he had to get Isabella out of there. “Out the window.”

He jimmied the window open, then thrust Isabella out onto the fire escape.

As soon as she was on her way, he went back into the room and grabbed a pen and a paper towel from the sink. He scrawled a note, then dropped it in the middle of the bed on his way back to the window.

Isabella was already hustling down the bottom flight of stairs by the time he’d gotten the window shut and rigged it so it wouldn’t open. Yeah, they could break the glass, but any delay would help. And with any luck, the note would be all he needed.

Luke caught up to Isabella just as she reached the last rung. She hung from the end of the ladder, then dropped the last few feet to the ground. He swung down and landed beside her, just as their window began to rattle.

“Get back.” He yanked Isabella against the side of the building, so they couldn’t be seen from the closed window. He led her along the brick wall, heading toward the back lot where his plane was parked.

“What took you so long?” Isabella asked as she ran along beside him.

“I left them a note.” They reached the edge of the building and he pulled them back against the wall before inching his head around to inspect the lot.

“A note? What kind of note?”

The black car was still there, but the three men were leaning against the trunk, chatting and smoking. They weren’t paying attention. Arrogant fools, thinking their mere presence would be enough to discourage him from taking what was his. “Come on.” He began working his way around to the plane from the other direction.

Isabella hurried quietly beside him, and they made it
quickly around the lot. He paused behind a pickup truck, taking a moment to listen to the conversation. They were talking about beer they’d had at a bar recently. All three were participating in the discussion. No one was listening for a sneak attack.

He gestured toward the plane. “Ready?”

Isabella’s eyes widened. “We’re just going to walk up there?”

“Yep.” It was a huge risk, because if one of those men saw them before they got close enough, they’d be completely exposed. It was the only chance they had, and he needed his plane.

Besides, he was better than they were.

Isabella swallowed. “Do you have a gun?”

“Nope.”

“They do.”

“Yep.”

“Okay. Just wanted to make sure you knew.” She wiggled up next to him and set her hand on his arm. She was watching the men as intently as he had been. Her face was pale, but there was a firm set to her jaw.

She knew what they had to do, and she was right there with him.

Damn, he could love a woman like that—

Jesus.
He rocked back on his heels, stunned by that thought. He’d have to be the stupidest son of a bitch on the planet to fall in love with another woman. And he wasn’t stupid.

But shit, just the thought made him feel like he’d left his brains back in the river.

Focus, Luke.
“We’re going to head right for the plane.” His lips brushed against Isabella’s ear. He could smell her fantastic scent as he breathed the words, and his cock went hard. He was getting a boner
now?
What
was he, fifteen? “If the men see us, run your ass off to the plane. I’ll be right behind you. They don’t have a plane to follow us if we can get airborne. Got it? Don’t stop no matter what.”

She leaned back against him, so her back was pressed against his chest. “Even if they shoot?”

“Even if they shoot. Just run for the plane.”

A tremor ran through her body, and she squeezed his forearm. “Let’s do it.”

They moved from behind the truck together, right into the open, and ran across the parking lot. It was a fifty-yard exposed sprint that seemed like a marathon. Luke kept his body between Isabella and the men, slowing to stay even with her.

They reached the plane, and he hoisted Isabella up. Her foot caught the seat belt and she tumbled forward into the gears. Her turquoise necklace clanked against the shift, a noise that seemed deathly loud in the cockpit.

One of the men started to turn, and Luke ducked out of sight. “Buckle up,” Luke whispered.

He settled in the pilot’s seat and saw the reflection of a man in one of the gauges. Someone was coming. Slowly. Not sure if he’d heard anything. But easing over to the plane to assess.

Luke took a split second to narrow his concentration, then started the plane and yanked the door shut in one motion.

“Hey!” Shouts rang from outside. Luke ignored them as he readied the plane for flight. It was the kiss of death for a bush pilot to get airborne without doing a safety check. He’d never neglected it, no matter what the circumstances had been, and skipping it after the jokers had been in his plane would be sheer idiocy.

He almost grinned as someone yanked on the door handle, and he threw the plane into gear. Taking off without a safety check in this situation was something Cort would do. He
had
done it, in fact. And the poor bastard had nearly died for it.

Lesson learned?

Yeah. He’d get luckier than Cort. That was the lesson.

A man jumped in front of the plane and aimed his gun right at Luke.

“Duck.”

Isabella bent over and Luke revved the engine. The man jumped out of the way, and a bullet flew harmlessly past. Luke taxied the plane to the end of the parking lot, spun around and straightened it for takeoff.

Facing him down were the three men, guns up, a blockade across his path.

“Good God,” Isabella said. “We’ll never make it.”

“It’ll take a perfect hit to keep us on the ground.”

“Marcus hires only the best.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty good as well.” Luke jammed the plane into gear and headed right for the guns.

The men started firing instantly, and Luke held his course, bearing right down on the men. He heard a few pings of metal hitting, but the plane kept picking up speed.

His windshield cracked, and he pressed harder. And harder. Until the men were right in front of him, guns flashing like crazy.

Then they were behind Luke, and he gunned the plane. The roar of the engine was so loud he couldn’t hear the gunshots he knew were following him. The plane bucked and Luke swore. But then she recovered. Another fifty feet and the wheels lifted off.

Three more seconds and they were up.

Out of reach.

“Dear God.” Isabella leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “That was close.”

Luke did a thorough and rapid scan of his controls. “We’re leaking fuel.”

Isabella’s eyes snapped open. “How long do we have?”

“Not long.” He ran over their options in his mind, then decided how to proceed. “We’ll give them a false lead. We’ll land at the airport and switch planes. We’ll leave this one there for them to find. We’ll buy tickets to Seattle, and they’ll think we caught a ride to the Lower 48.”

The plane was vibrating now, and he knew more vital parts had been hit. Twenty minutes to the airport. Was that too much to ask of his damaged aircraft? No way. He was making it.

“You’re so confident they’ll think we went to Boston?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Her expression became suspicious. “What exactly did you put on that note you left them?”

“I wrote, ‘See you in Boston.’”

“You did?” She sat up. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t want them around here anymore. I want them in Boston, away from Cort and Kaylie.” His fingers tightened on the controls. “It’s my game now, and they’re playing by my rules.”

“And having them waiting for you when we get to Boston is what you want?”

He shrugged. “It’s what we’ve got. We’ll make it work.”

Isabella grabbed her harness as the plane bucked. “I have to ask you something. I want an honest answer.”

“Ask.”

“Are you trying to get us killed?”

It riled him that she had to ask. “Fuck, no. You’re staying alive, and so are Cort and Kaylie. No other option is acceptable.”

She met his gaze. “And you think you can take them on head to head?”

He ground his jaw. He’d lost every other time. But this time would be different.

The lives of three innocents demanded he get it right this time.

“Luke?”

“Yeah, I can.”

She leaned her head back. “I hope you’re right. I really, really do.”

So did he.

They’d landed at the airport on fumes, but Luke had made quick work of borrowing another bush plane and checking them on to a commercial flight bound for Seattle. In less than twenty minutes they were airborne in another bush plane, but even that brief time on the ground had made both of them antsy.

Once they were on the way to Luke’s house to pick up supplies, Isabella finally relaxed. Only in the air did she feel truly safe right now. In Luke’s capable hands, high above the spray of bullets, being airborne was her respite, and she was asleep almost instantly.

By the time Luke was preparing to land his borrowed plane, Isabella had woken up, but she was still so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She watched as he did the third flyby of his property. “You really think it’s safe to land?”

“Yeah. We can crash here for a few hours while I get
stuff together. There’s no way for them to find out I own this property. “

“Even Leon?”

Luke didn’t hesitate. “Even Leon.”

“Okay.” She sighed and rubbed her shoulder. It was throbbing, and she felt like she had been run over by a couple of cars and a motorcycle.

After fighting so hard to get Luke to go back to Boston with her to save Marcus, she’d finally succeeded, and it was as if her body hadn’t been able to keep going a moment longer.

It was nearing dusk, and as Luke banked the plane to land, he said, “Check out the sunset.”

Isabella turned her head and gasped. The sky was filled with the most vibrant oranges, yellows and reds she’d ever seen. Purple clouds hung low in the sky. Brilliant orange coated the trees in a haze of color. Huge mountains stood in the distance. A vast expanse of nature’s beauty in a way she’d never seen in her life. “It’s unbelievable,” she breathed, as she leaned forward, trying to get closer to the magic.

Marcus tried to create beauty in his house, and she’d always thought he succeeded, but it was nothing compared to the vista before her. This was untainted. Pure. Unlike anything her life had ever been.

“First time I saw it,” Luke said, “I was on a run for Marcus that he’d piggybacked on an expedition I had up here. Alaska won me over that very minute, and I knew I’d end up here someday.”

Isabella was surprised by the regret in his voice. He was watching the sunset intently, as if drinking it in for the very last time.

“I’ll miss this,” he said.

“Why do you have to miss it? We won’t be in Boston
forever.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, you won’t be.” Because Luke wouldn’t be staying with her.

Luke straightened up and turned the plane again, and the vista vanished from sight. “Can’t come back. Too many roots. I won’t endanger them.”

“So you’ll just leave again? Like you left your dad?”

He shot her a hard look. “Yeah. Just like it.” His sarcasm was evident, as was the fact that he had no interest in discussing it. He landed the plane on a bumpy clearing and taxied the plane around. “That’s my place.” He nodded at the magnificent log cabin in front of them.

His house was two stories high, with massive windows that faced the sunset. A giant curved pane of glass spanned the entire west side of the second story, and a deck stretched around the whole house, sporting beautiful carved furniture. It was refined and elegant but rustic as well.

Not a decrepit log cabin.

A beautiful, beautiful home that was honest in its beauty. “Who built this place?”

“I did.” He stopped the plane and leaned on the dash. “Nice, isn’t it?” He pointed slightly to the right. “There’s a lake down there you can see from the edge of the clearing. I fish there sometimes, but mostly just breathe it in. Have you ever experienced the purity of air that surrounds a pristine lake? You can practically breathe the lake into your lungs. Incredible.”

He stopped the plane, and Isabella stepped out. The air was crisp and fresh, her breath clouding in it. She felt as if she were inhaling pure cleanliness into her lungs. “It’s incredible.”

“It is.” Luke walked up beside her and brushed his shoulder against hers. “I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“I do.” For a moment, they stood in silence, simply
enjoying it together. Her throat tightened, and she had a sudden urge to lean into him. “It feels like peace out here,” she said quietly. Never had she experienced anything like this. It was an oasis of nature and safety. There was no noise of civilization. No cars. No clutter. Just soothing quiet.

“This is where I come to find peace,” Luke agreed. “Cort’s the only one who has ever been here. It’s my sanctuary. I don’t share it.”

He was gazing over the valley, a look of utter relaxation on his face. She’d never seen him so at ease, and it make him look so much younger. Almost boyish. She understood it, because being here, in this moment, she felt the same way. As if all her problems were surreal and distant.