In Safe Hands (The Safe House Series Book 1) (11 page)

From her vantage, she watched Damian sidestep to avoid a spill of sunlight from above. His gun was drawn and aimed directly at his ex-partner.

Paulson scoffed again. "Do
not
come riding to the rescue for this trash, Stone. Do you have any idea who she is? I bet they tried to hide her identity from you, didn't they?"

Alexa's eyelids twitched. Paulson’s gun held steady, still leveled at her. Her shoulder felt like it had been ripped from her body, but she refused to move a millimeter.

"Drop your weapon and step back." Damian's voice didn't waver.

Alexa squeezed her eyes closed, baring her teeth in a silent sob. Why did he have to come for her? She didn't want him to carry the vision of her gunned down the way he carried Paulson’s fake death.

"Don't give me your
orders
, Stone,
"
Paulson shouted. "If I don't get rid of her, she'll destroy my life—and yours. You think Rockwell will accept you back with open arms? You're done, Stone—there's no job, no
safe house,
for you to go back to.”

"I swore to protect. Same as you."

Damian was closer now. An angry gash spilled blood onto his forehead. He sidestepped once more into the shadows, avoiding the next shaft of light, preventing Paulson from getting a clear visual.

As much as Alexa wanted to see more of him, to gather every final vision from a world that could end at any moment, she refused to track him with her eyes, to give away his location. If she couldn’t survive, she could give him a fighting chance.

"Nobody's paying you to protect her anymore," Paulson said snidely.

"It's not about the money, Paulson. But I know it hasn't always been that way for you."

"Money buys
freedom,"
Paulson stressed. "You think I like living this way? You think I
liked
being in the pocket of an egotistical sadist like Nico Volkov? It was the only way out for me, Stone. You know what happened to my father—he disgraced himself publicly with that prostitute and died before campaign season even had a chance to start. Do you know what that was like for me, having to mourn the man who failed me in front of all those cameras? It was those fucking cameras that
gave
him that heart attack."

"I remember, man. We used to tell each other a lot of things." Damian moved closer to Alexa, but he still wasn't close enough to pull her to safety. "But that tragedy with your father happened over twenty years ago, Paulson. Your past won't follow you if you don't let it. You have a chance to walk away today and start your life over. No one here will stop you. Just go."

"And live my life, always watching over my shoulder? Mob reach is too far, too absolute, my friend.” Paulson gestured belligerently. "The whole Volkov mob is corrupt, including her. What lies did she tell you to turn you against me like this?"

"I'm not against you," said Damian.

Alexa's blood pounded against her eardrums. Her knees struggled to hold her upright. Paulson didn't appear to be listening.

"How long have you known this woman? Five days?" he exclaimed. "How can you trust
her
over me? Where’s your unfailing loyalty now?" As if suddenly reminded of his unfortunate errand, Paulson turned from Damian's shadow and lifted his weapon, a renewed commitment to end this in his eyes.

Alexa had seconds. Less than seconds. She turned and looked straight at Damian.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I was trying to protect you. I really do love you."

She closed her eyes.

Shots erupted.

For the second time in his life, Damian watched as Michael Paulson fell. The man's eyes widened in slow astonishment as the gun slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.

Damian lowered his gun slowly, still sighting Paulson, as his former partner collapsed to his knees then forward onto his chest.

The body of the man he had once trusted above all others stilled.

Alexa was off the crate in an instant, running toward him before he could holster his weapon. Damian held the Glock at his side. She threw herself against his chest. His free hand cuffed her head and pulled her close.

He thought he heard her sob his name. She buried her face in his shoulder, her hands clutching the back of his shirt.

"You're safe now." As much as Alexa may have needed him to steady her in that moment, Damian needed her to hold him close, to ground him in the wake of what he had done. He shut his eyes against the sight of Paulson and lost himself in Alexa.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, over and over again until Damian holstered his weapon and drew her fully into the fold of his arms. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't think you'd understand… my father…"

“I understand your loyalties are to the people you love.  There
is
no fault in that.”

The absolution knocked around in the spaces inside his head like discordant notes of a crashing symphony. Though the words were his, he felt them only for the woman he held. Alexa had little choice as to family. But his loyalty to Paulson had been a decision. A foolish decision that almost cost him a chance at true happiness, peace…love. A choice that almost cost him Alexa. The knot in his stomach refused to uncoil. He should have known. How could he allow such blind misplaced loyalty?

“I’m still Nico Volkov’s daughter. Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“You’re not your father. He doesn’t have to define you anymore.”

“How can you ever trust me again?”

Damian tugged away from her long enough to take her head in his hands, to glide his palms against her cheeks and thread his fingertips through her hair, to see him.
Really
see him. “You were willing to sacrifice everything, Alexa—your family, your future, this bond we’ve found in each other,
Christ
, even your life—to keep me alive.”

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“Don’t you see? You sealed my trust the moment you ran into this building.”

“I’m sorry about Paulson.”

“Yeah, well…” There were no words. Paulson had everything—the respect his father never had, a brotherhood defined by what was decent and right, a friendship that surpassed blood. All that power, the
right
kind of power that feeds the soul and leaves the world a better place, just hadn’t been enough for him. “Great trust holds the power to destroy men.”

“Or to build stronger ones,” said Alexa. Her lips, once frowned in the finality of it all, in her greatest fear of being alone when the world stopped moving, straightened then lifted to a smile that loosened the knot in his gut and hinted at the healing promise of forever.

She gazed upon him as if the choice had been his all along. As if he had always possessed enough strength to trade one misguided loyalty for another, richer transformation. But Damian knew the truth. Without Alexa, he never stood a chance of seeing through Paulson’s deception to a life beyond.

A life he couldn’t imagine without her.

He captured her lips with his. The kiss was generous and reverent, a tender promise of hope in place that had only ever held darkness.

They held each other until their adrenaline quieted. When he felt Alexa wilt against him in exhaustion, Damian drew her away from the scene. Neither of them looked back.

An SUV waited for them outside when they exited the building. Rockwell leapt out of the passenger seat and jogged across the gravel driveway toward them.

"Stone! I thought I heard shots!" Rockwell shouted.

"Paulson’s gone." Damian raised his hand to clap arms with his employer without releasing Alexa. She surfaced eventually to join their reunion, detaching from Damian to give the other man a grateful hug.

"Mr. Rockwell," she said. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again."

"I knew you were in good hands," Rockwell said gravely. "Feds are on their way now. I had to lay low for a bit until I could prove Paulson was the one who set us up. He compromised your bank account and indicated me with an anonymous phone call." Rockwell removed his jacket and draped it over Alexa's shoulders. "Didn't mean to go dark on you, but it was for the best. I couldn't answer the phone with agents all over my ass every hour of every day. You wouldn't believe some of the stunts I had to pull to tail you out here. Thank God my boys always have my back."

"The feeling's mutual," Damian said. "Thanks for looking out for me—for
us
.”

Rockwell crossed his burly arms and scrutinized the picture taking shape before him. Before he could say anything more, his phone went off.

"It’s Samson," said Rockwell, pressing the answer call button. "Driving me crazy for word on the two of you.” As soon as the phone was to his ear, he stalked toward the warehouse.

Alexa raised her head to Damian again, looking tired and a little amused. "Is he always like that? I mean, with you guys?"

"Always," Damian assured her. He led her around the backside of the SUV and opened the hatch. They sat together in silence, watching the sun sink down the long stretch of road. Alexa settled into the folds of Rockwell's coat. It was only then that Damian realized how close he had come to losing her. He drew her against him, careful to keep her shoulder stabilized.

"How is your head?" she asked.

“Better than my pride.” Damian raised his hand to rub his forehead and grimaced. "Can't believe I didn't see it coming," he admitted. "With the way you were talking…"

"I'm sorry." Alexa sank against his chest, embarrassed. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I guess I should have known you would only be out for a moment. How are
you?"

Damian sighed and pulled her closer against him. He stared out at the road as if the answer for how he was feeling lingered there. He felt exhausted, but he also felt… relieved. Like he might actually be able to look forward to a night of restful sleep for a change.

If he was lucky, maybe he wouldn't have to look forward to it alone.

“I could use some time away,” he said. “
If
you came with me.”

Alexa wiggled her adorable backside closer, fully awakening his sense of wanderlust. Not of distant lands but in the landscapes of her body he had yet to discover.

She nestled her head against him, in the space between his shoulder and chin that fit her to perfection. “After the trial, I’m all yours. Anywhere you want to go.”

“I’m a little partial to Missouri.”

“Are you?” Her words were jaunty, playful, not-at-all surprised. “I know the perfect thing to wear.”

He chuckled against the electrifying spot behind her ear that drove her insane with pleasure. She snickered, twisted in his embrace and kissed him, her hands pinned over his heart, the safest place of all.

The
No Tell Motel
hadn’t changed much in the four months it took Alexa’s testimony to convict and sentence Nico Volkov to a life in prison, safe from harm but where he belonged. Room
235
’s last digit had been secured firmly to the door by a mismatched screw. The cartoon etching of the bowlegged cowboy had been replaced by a blooming desert cactus watercolor. The cheap, craft-store lasso nailed beside the door now held infinite, creative possibilities. And the man emerging from the bathroom, freshly showered and wrapped in white terry cotton and nothing else was still her husband.

This time, a shiny gold band rode the left hand that held his towel closed.

He drew close, unable to keep a smile from rearranging his handsome features, and took her pen. With a decisive snap, he retracted its tip and laid it in the crease of her substantial law book. From behind, he leaned forward and slid his arms around her waist. He smelled clean, lightly fragrant from his body gel, and full-on Damian.

“No studying on our honeymoon,” he whispered against her ear.

He swept her hair aside and trailed feather-light kisses down her neck. Mock legal briefs dissolved in her brain to briefs of a very different kind.

“We already had our honeymoon. Remember? You warmed the floor over there…” She stretched her arms above her, half-pointing to make her point, half entwining her arms around his neck to arch against his already-protruding towel, purposely stretching her back and lifting her chest in invitation. An invitation Damian had been too duty-bound to seize four months ago.

This time he did not hesitate. His hands dove beneath her shirt and grazed up her abdomen to her breasts. He squeezed her bra-less nipples and rolled them between his thumb and forefinger until she uncrossed her legs to make room for the swell of pleasure disrupting her capacity to maintain her side of the conversation.

“And I fought off the urge to crawl up beside you and warm every inch of you.”

Alexa bit her lip and rose from her chair to face him. “While I tried to convince myself I would be horrified if you invaded my shower.”

His pupils were swollen, focused, always so focused, but the seductive stretch of his lips betrayed him. Perfect, caramel-colored shoulders rippled as he rested his grip on the knot of his towel. “Were you successful?”

“I wanted you to darken that curtain more than anything.” Alexa swallowed through the admission, her pulse already accelerating far ahead of the game. Damian once confessed he found her sharp, to-the-point flare made her a gifted law student and an even better lover. After that, she aimed to please.

“And?”

“And pull it back to watch…” She drew close to his ear as if she meant to lay out her fantasy in stark detail. Instead she pecked him on the cheek, turned and sauntered toward the bathroom, tossing a flirty gaze over her shoulder.

“And?” His voice closed in behind her, thick with desire, charged with sport.

She hesitated at the threshold. In her mind, her clothes were already pooled at her feet, steam a substantial third party to the encounter.

“And do everything in my power to convince you that you weren’t done with your job—to keep me safe, for better or worse—until
I
tell you, not Rockwell.”

He drew close enough for a kiss, lip to lip, their breaths mingling as one. “When will that be?”

A delightful tingle scaled her body as an answer more perfect than the
I-love-yous
that gathered daily on her tongue and were always reciprocated. “Another lifetime.”

Damian tossed his head back and laughed, boisterous and free.

His towel dropped to the floor.