Fearless (32 page)

“There you are,” he says. “Why are you in the dark?”

“I was too tired to turn on the lights,” I say numbly. It's true. I'm mentally and physically exhausted, and I want nothing more than crawl under my covers and hide from the world until I can board that airplane tomorrow and leave behind the mess that my life has become.

“I'm sorry, sweetie,” Gavin says, giving me a friendly hug. “C'mon. Let's get you home.”

I'm silent as Gavin drives me home and I'm grateful that he doesn't try to fill the silence, although he does insist on coming in to make me a cup of tea and make sure I'm okay, despite the fact that it's almost ninety degrees outside. He's been so kind and generous to me since the first time I met him, and he totally put himself on the line for me by taking me to the club tonight, so I feel like it's the least I can do for him. But as much as I appreciate Gavin, I just want to be alone so I can change into sweatpants, crawl into bed, and cry myself to sleep.

As soon as I open my front door I can tell something's wrong, even though I can't quite put my finger on it. Did I leave the kitchen light on when I left last night? Maybe. I did leave in a hurry.

“Do you mind if I change real quick?” I ask Gavin. I can't get out of these clothes fast enough. In fact, I want to burn them. “I'll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

I walk into my bedroom and kick off my shoes, and it hits me that my closet door is closed, as are every single one of my dresser drawers. It's not like me to close every drawer on a good day, much less when I'm desperately throwing clothes into a bag while my heart is breaking, and I never close my closet door. Someone has definitely been here. But who? And why? It couldn't have been Nikki; I got a text from her earlier this afternoon from Colorado. Was someone looking for my notes? Tim again? Possibly Beckett?

Frantically, I rush back out to the living room.

“Gavin, I think someone has been in my house,” I say.

He raises his eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“Why do I think someone's been here or why would someone have been here?” I ask, panic creeping into my voice.

Gavin crosses the room to me and puts his arm around me comfortingly. “Shhh,” he says reassuringly. “It's okay. Why would someone have been in your house?”

“To find my notes and get the details of exactly what Dr. Black told me.” I explain.

“Have you checked to see if someone took them?” he asks me carefully.

“No, I know they didn't because they're not here. I took them with me when I left last night.”

Then I remember that I only took the tapes and written notes with me. My computer and the flash drive that I have saved everything on are in my study. I rush into my small study with Gavin right behind me. Someone has definitely been in this room and didn't make any attempt to cover it up. Drawers have been upended, their contents strewn across the floor, and my laptop is gone.

“Oh. My. God.” Gavin drawls.

I grip his arm. “They were definitely looking for my notes. That's why my laptop is gone. Thank goodness I saved everything to an external flash drive and there's nothing on my computer. We have to call the police!”

Gavin's firm grip on my upper arm stops me from going back out into the living room where I left my phone.

“Where is the flash drive?” he asks casually, but there's something about his tone, or maybe it's the strength of his grip that raises the hairs on my arms.

“Um, it's with my notes and tapes,” I stammer, even though I'm sincerely hoping it's right where I left it at the bottom of the pencil cup that Nikki made me in fifth grade, the pencil cup that I can clearly see sitting on my desk from where I'm standing. I inwardly groan for not remembering to take the flash drive with me to Lainey's.

“And where exactly is that?” Gavin asks, and his voice suddenly sounds menacing.

With a nervous laugh I say, “Somewhere safe. Why are you so worried about it? Come on. I'm going to call the police.”

Gavin ruthlessly grabs me and pins me against the wall, his forearm pressed across my throat. “Tell me where the flash drive is!”

“Gavin, you're hurting me!” I say.

“Just tell me where the damn flash drive is. You don't need to protect Beckett anymore. He doesn't love you. He made that abundantly clear at the club. Just give me the flash drive and everything will be okay.”

My head is spinning. Why does Gavin want the flash drive?

Shocked, I look into his eyes. There's a hint of madness there.

“What's going on Gavin? Why is the flash drive so important to you?”

“Don't you understand?” he says. “I can't screw this one up. Camille's still mad at me for messing up on the pictures.”

"I thought you didn't even know Camille. What do you care about the flash drive or the information on it?" I ask, buying time as I try to absorb what's going on.

“Camille is my half-sister. Apparently Camille and her mother weren't enough for her precious daddy,” he says bitingly. “I always knew my dad had another family. After all, he only saw me and my mom on stolen nights and weekends. But Camille had no idea we existed until her father's will was read and she discovered that I had inherited half of his estate. Of course it was worthless since he had sunk every last cent he had into Coker Pharmaceuticals. So Camille and I decided we could fight each other and lose everything we might stand to gain, or we could join forces and try to salvage our inheritance.”

He gets a faraway look in his eyes as he continues. “Camille was convinced that Beckett and his father were the key to finishing the research her father had begun and entrusted to Coker. Unfortunately, Beckett refused to cooperate. Then they hired you to write Dr. Beckett's memoir, and we knew it was only a matter of time before they would tell you their secrets. Beckett falling for you just made it even easier.” He adds smugly, “I like to think I had something to do with that. That dress was really to die for.”

I am looking about wildly for something within reach that I might use to hit him with. Unfortunately, there's nothing. He continues with his story as if we are enjoying a nice chat over a cup of tea.

“Most exes are more than happy to stick it to their former spouse, and your Tim was no exception. It was ridiculously easy to convince him to poke around your house and get the information we needed. He's not a very bright man though, is he? Perhaps that's why things didn't work out for you. Then again, maybe you're just star-crossed at love because things with Beckett didn't really turn out so well for you either, did they?” He tsks sympathetically.

The force of his arm against my throat is starting to cut off my air and my breathing has become shallow, but he continues unconcerned. "Yes, sadly Tim seems incapable of following through on anything since he failed to get the actual notes that we needed the first time. So be a good girl and tell me where the flash drive is so we can just put this whole matter behind us without you getting hurt."

"Okay," I wheeze. "Please! Just let go of my throat. I'll go get it for you."

"I knew I could convince you to come around ," he says with an unnerving smile, easing the pressure against my windpipe. I take a few deep gulps of air.

"Um, it's in my bedroom," I say. Gavin roughly pulls me away from the wall and shoves me in the direction of the doorway. Something hard digs into the small of my back and I realize with horror that it's a gun. I breathe in sharply.

"That's right, sweetheart. I'm not taking any chances this time. Just go slow and easy and you won't get hurt. But you'd better be sure you know right where that flash drive is.”

Sweat runs down my back as I slowly walk to my bedroom, Gavin following me with his pistol digging into my flesh. I'm pretty certain I'm going to die, and I wish I had time to leave a message for Nikki to let her know how much I love her. I'm glad she's with my mom and dad. I fight back a sob as we reach my bedroom. I have one chance. With shaking hands, I open the drawer of my night table slightly, reaching my hand in until I can feel the cold metal of my Glock. I grasp it and then pull it out quickly as I spin away from Gavin. I fire and hear the ricochet of the bullet as it hits the wall. Damn. I try to shoot again but Gavin throws me to the hardwood floor so hard it knocks the wind out of me. As I gasp for air, he smashes his heavy boot down on my wrist and I cry out in pain as my gun clatters to the floor.

“You bitch!” he says, enraged. He kicks me in the side and I groan, curling into a ball to protect myself. He grabs me by the hair and slams my head onto the floor, yelling, “Tell me where the flash drive is!” I can hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears. Then it stops, and I'm sure I must be dead. Except you'd think if you were dead it wouldn't hurt so much. I hear the shrill crash of glass breaking, and then I hear Beckett's voice. Maybe I'm dead after all.

“Touch her again and you will take your last breath,” Beckett says with steely certainty. He's holding a pistol cocked and pointed at Gavin's temple.

The rest happens faster than I can process it. There's a flash of black as Beckett's knee catches Gavin hard in the stomach, causing him to double over with a grunt. He grasps Gavin's wrist, and there's a sickening snap as Gavin's gun skitters across the floor.

“Don't ever mess with what's mine,” Beckett says with cold fury in his voice. He hits Gavin in the back of the neck with the flat of his hand and Gavin falls to the floor next to me, unconscious.

I stare up at Beckett, stunned. “I don't think doctors are supposed to know how to do that,” I whisper.

With what sounds like a half laugh, half groan, he pulls me into his arms, wrapping his arms around me so that I am completely enveloped by him. He kisses the top of my head and asks tenderly, “Are you okay?”

I nod. “My head is killing me, but I think I'm okay. I could hear my heart pounding so hard and then it just stopped. I thought I'd died.”

“That wasn't your heart. It was me pounding on the door. I have never been so afraid in my life as when I heard the shot go off in here and I didn't know if you were okay. If something had happened to you…” He trails off, rubbing his hand over his face at the memory. I can see the dark circles under his eyes and the fine lines that have etched their way across his handsome face, as if he hasn't slept in days.

Before I have a chance to say any more, Griffin steps nonchalantly through the broken window, nods to Beckett and casually says, “Hey, Emma,” as he pulls a length of rope from his pocket and binds Gavin's arms and legs securely, despite the fact that he's clearly not going anywhere soon.

“Is he….?” I can't finish.

“Nah,” Griffin says with a grin. “Now if I'd gotten here first he probably would be. But Beckett has this thing about saving lives instead of taking them.”

He pulls his phone out of his back pocket, punches in a number, and then turns away. I can hear bits and pieces of his conversation—robbery, gun, Navy SEAL, woman hurt—but they don't make any sense to me. I don't care. I'm content to just be in Beckett's arms.

Griffin shoves the phone back in his pocket and turns back to Beckett and me. “Police will be here soon. Anything you don't want them to find?” He gives me a pointed look.

I stare back at him dumbly for a moment and then I say, “The flash drive. If someone didn't find it already, it's in a pencil cup on my desk.”

Griffin nods and strides out of the room, leaving me alone with Beckett. “Why are you here?” I ask.

“Camille asked to meet with me,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I initially refused, but Griffin started a little surveillance on her after she first contacted me, and there were some indications that she had targeted you, although we couldn't tell how or why. I thought you were safely in San Diego so I agreed to meet with her in the relative safety of Dominic's club so I could try to find out what she was up to. I certainly didn't expect you to come walking into the club while she was there!”

I close my eyes and my gut clenches at the memory of him dropping the collar to the floor and saying goodbye. I remind myself that he's here because helping people is what he does, not because he feels anything other than some sort of responsibility for me.

“I'm sorry,” I whisper.

In a gesture all too intimate and familiar, he lifts my chin gently until my gaze meets his. Humiliation burns my cheeks.

“I'm sorrier,” he says softly. “I had to say those things, to break you and break your heart in front of Camille so that she wouldn't know how important you were to me and try to hurt you to get to me. Of course, I did a fine job of hurting you all by myself.” The haunted look in his eyes is kindling a tiny flicker of hope in me.

“You mean the spanking?” I ask.

“You backed me into a corner when you wouldn't leave,” he says, his voice tortured. “God knows I tried to convince you to go, but you are one stubborn woman.” He sighs in exasperation. “I had to do what I did and I'm sorry for it, but there was no way around it. But I'm not just talking about the spanking.”

“It was okay about the spanking, but you didn't have to make me come,” I say accusingly.

Beckett's eyes are troubled. “I couldn't bring myself to hurt you without giving you some pleasure at the same time, especially since I knew it was probably the last time I would touch you. I couldn't let pain be the last thing you remembered with me. Christ Emma, I'm sorry for all of it. For not having faith in you, for hurting you, for pretending that my heart hasn't belonged to you since the day I met you. I know you hate me for it now, but I would do it again to keep you safe. I just hope someday you will forgive me. I love you so much, Emma! I can't bear the thought of something happening to you.”

The flicker bursts into a blinding light. “You love me?” I ask.