Lawless (22 page)

Dear God.  She'd just shot and quite likely
killed a man.  Another still hunted her.

She waited for what seemed like forever, her
heavy breath loud in her ears.  Nothing moved on her side of the riverbed, and
the not knowing what had happened tortured her.

Then she saw him.

Milo
.

He crept low along the riverbank, getting
closer to her and to the gunmen.

Trepidation for his safety and relief that he
was on scene battled inside her, making it hard to breathe.

"Milo," she cried out, unable to help
herself.  "I'm across the river."  Just as she answered, the sound of
helicopter blades cutting the air interrupted the false serenity of the area.

"There are two men over here with guns,"
she yelled out, hoping Milo could hear her over the noise.  A splinter of wood
shot from the edge of the tree near her head and landed in her lap.  She
flattened herself to the ground.  One of the men was still shooting.

Another shot rang out, and she tried to discern
which direction it had come from.  Maybe from the other side of the river. 
Maybe not.

Then the sound of boots on the ground became
clear.  She raised her gun, ready to shoot if necessary.

She nearly pulled the trigger out of fright
when Milo's face appeared above her.  He dropped to the ground next to her,
crushing her in his arms as a number of voices sounded from across the river.

"How many men are out here, Ariana?"

"Two."  She swallowed.  "I think
I killed one."  She pointed to the motionless body lying on the ground not
far from her.

"I took out the other one."  He stood
and walked to Manny's body.

She knew she shouldn't look at him, but she
needed to see what she'd done.  She got to her feet and hobbled over just as
Milo rolled him onto his back.  Tatters of blue material surrounded the gushing
hole in his chest.  The pool of crimson blood beneath him grew larger.

He blinked, sending an eerie shudder through
her.  He wasn't dead.  She fell on her knees next to him.  "Manny.  How
could you?  I thought we were friends."

"I'm sorry."  His words came out as a
gurgle.  "Your father.  Me or you."

"Does he know I'm here?"  She couldn't
stand the thought he would send others after her and endanger these new people
she'd grown to love.

"No."  His head lolled to the side,
but his hazy eyes remained trained on her.  "I bugged your friend's
phone.  Wanted to find you first."

She couldn't believe him.  "Tell me the
truth, Manny.  No one can help you now, but you might be spared burning in hell
if you tell me the truth."

"Promise.  No one, Ari."  He took a
shuddering breath and closed his eyes.

A cold shiver raced across her as his spirit
departed.

She and Milo both jerked around at the sound of
heavy footsteps approaching.  Quinn ran straight to her and pulled her into a
strong embrace.  "Thank God."  He focused his strained gaze on Milo. 
"Thank God you got here in time."

*        *        *

Milo couldn't deny the overwhelming jealousy
that blanketed him as Quinn cradled Ariana in his arms.  She started to cry, an
after-effect of their drama for sure, and Quinn handed a handkerchief to her. 
Milo didn't even have a tissue to offer.

Armed officers flocked the area.  What was
quiet a few minutes ago, was now a hive of activity.

"Let's get you the hell out of here,"
Quinn said to Ariana, taking a step.

She winced.  "I twisted my ankle pretty
badly."

"I'll help you.  These men can deal with
this mess.  Milo?  You'll give them a statement?"

He nodded.

"Good.  They can get Ariana's later.  The
helicopter's waiting."  Quinn scooped Ariana into his arms and started
down the hillside, leaving a huge, gaping hole in Milo's soul.

At one point, she glanced over Quinn's shoulder
and met Milo's gaze.  He couldn't tell from the expression on her face what she
might have been feeling.  He sure as hell recognized the wretched heartbreak he'd
been left with.

Her time was up.  She'd testify in a few days,
and then she'd be free to pursue her new life.  A life without him.

Ah…God.  "Miss me, darlin'."

Four months later…

Milo walked along the edge of the frosty river,
his boots crunching the crusted snow.  Dusk descended upon him at a rapid pace,
and he wished time itself would cruise by as fast.  Ominous clouds hovered
overhead, promising a new layer of the white stuff by morning.  The locals
would be happy to have the water the melted snow would provide in the spring.

He couldn't care less at the moment.

The green leaves of summer were now a forgotten
casualty of fall, leaving the twisted branches bare on the trees.  It was colder
than a witch's tit, as his dad used to tell him.  Still, he walked this route
every day.

It was a memorial ritual, he supposed.  The
last place he'd seen Ariana.

As far as his heart was concerned, she did die
that day.

Gratitude filled the rest of him, though.  He'd
done his job, and she was still alive and breathing.  Probably laughing as she
soaked up some tropical sun.  It made him happy to think of her that way.  She
deserved it.

She'd gotten her wish, and her old man
currently rotted in jail.  There were a few in the Trasatti organization that
were trying to piece together their outfit, but the vultures were circling, and
it wouldn't be long before someone else took over their territory.

Milo kicked a clump of snow into the river and
turned toward home.  Christmas would be a bitch this year.  He'd lied to his
friends, telling them Ariana had gone to take care of a sick father.  At first,
they'd commented on what a kind and thoughtful daughter she was.  Now, months
later, they no longer asked about her.  Only his mother knew the truth.

If he could bypass that holiday and fast
forward to spring when he could occupy himself by biking or fishing, things
would surely be easier.  He knew from experience time would heal, but he'd dug
deep and had not been blessed with patience.

The scent of burning wood caught his attention
as he stepped inside the kitchen door.  A quick glance told him nothing in the
kitchen was on fire.  He rushed into the living room.

He froze when he saw her.

She sat on the couch, wearing a soft black
sweater.  She turned, her turquoise eyes flaring to life when she caught sight
of him.  She'd kept her dark hair, and an infectious smile tilted her lips.  A
bright fire roared in the fireplace.

"I let myself in.  I hope you don't mind."

He said nothing as he crossed the room in three
quick strides.  She stood as he reached her, and he crushed her in his embrace,
burying his nose in her soft hair.

He held her like that for a long time, afraid
to open his eyes, afraid she wasn't real.

She released a soft chuckle as she leaned back
and captured his gaze.  "I'm glad you're happy to see me.  I wasn't sure
after everything that had happened."

He captured her lips in a kiss.  Sometimes
actions could speak louder than words.  Her scent, the taste of her, the feel
of her next to him scorched away the chill he'd held inside him for far too
long.  "Where have you been?"

A touch of weariness settled on her features.  "The
trial took a while.  Then Quinn arranged for me to spend some time with Kenzie
before I had to leave again."  She sighed.  "Plus, it took me some
time to figure out where I wanted to go, what I wanted to be when I grow up." 
She smiled.  "Quinn's amazing.  He arranged for me to be a school teacher,
just like I requested."

"I see.  So why are you here?  To say
goodbye to me, too?"  The thought kicked him in the gut like a wild
mustang.

She placed a hand on his cheek, emotion
watering in her eyes.  "Goodbye?  I'm here because I missed you.  Isn't
that what you said as I left?  Miss me, darlin'?"

An incredulous hope rose inside him.  "I
didn't think you heard me."

She placed a soft kiss on his lips.  "I
did.  Or I read your lips.  Or something.  Somehow, I heard what you said." 
She kissed him again, this time not so softly.  "I've thought of that
moment every day since.  Prayed you wouldn't forget me before I could come
home."

"Home?  You're staying?"

"I hope this can be my home.  Quinn is
going to be really angry with me if I have to ask him to place me somewhere
else."  She lifted her left hand, and his grandmother's diamond winked at
him.  "I'm really hoping I can keep this."

It seemed impossible could be possible after
all.  "Are you asking me to marry you, darlin'?"

A brilliant smile lit her face.  "I
believe I am, Deputy Sykes."

The End

CHAPTER ONE

"What you need is a wild night with a hot
man." 

Elena Porter choked on a sip of her margarita and
turned to her best friend, Mercedes, gaping at her with watering eyes. 
"Excuse me?" she wheezed out over the club’s loud music.

"You’re way overdue, chica."  Mercedes's
Hispanic accent spiced her words, making her sound sexy and exotic.  She
flipped her hair, her dark tresses sliding over sun-kissed shoulders. 
"You’ve been working too hard, and we've both agreed it's time to put some
fun back into your life.  Now that we're here, I don't think Cabo's sun and
cervezas are going to do it for you."  She pinned her with dark eyes
framed by long lashes.  "You need carnal knowledge of a new man."

Elena didn’t know why she continued to be
surprised by her friend's outrageous statements.  They’d known each other for
more than twenty years, and she was well-versed in her uninhibited and
outspoken ways.  "Carnal knowledge?"  The look on her friend’s face
was so intent that Elena couldn’t help but laugh.

"What?"  Mercedes narrowed her eyes,
clearly not appreciating the snicker.  "You know it's true."  Sex was
a very serious matter for her friend.  It fell into the basic needs category
along with food and air.  "How long has it been?"

Elena stiffened, not liking the turn of conversation. 
"What difference does it make?"  Mercedes knew better than anyone the
damage Elena's emotionally-abusive marriage had wreaked on her psyche.

"It matters.  You matter."  Her friend
leaned close and gave her a few wide-eyed blinks.  "Plus, you promised
you'd do whatever it takes to break out of your shuttered existence. 
Remember?  So, tell me how long?"

They wouldn't be having this conversation if Elena
wasn't so desperate to feel like a normal woman again.  "I don't know.  A
couple of months?"

"A couple of months?"  Mercedes scoffed.

So it had been longer than that.  "Maybe a
year?"

Mercedes narrowed her eyes and shook her head. 
"Don't lie to me, chica.  Who was the last guy you were with?"

"I don't remember."  She took a drink of
her margarita and turned toward the crowded dance floor, hoping to end their
discussion.

"Has there been
anyone
since your
divorce?"

The doubt in her friend's voice was enough to
spike her temper.  "Yes, there has," she lied.  "And you know,
my business has been—"

"A full-time commitment."  Mercedes
finished her sentence and effectively threw her words in her face.  "Don't
give me that excuse again."

Elena clamped her lips together and sent her
friend a pointed look.

Mercedes laid a warm hand on her arm.  "Don't
go getting all mad, Elena.  You know I love you, and you know that everything
I'm saying to you is for your own good.  That's why we agreed to the conditions
of this trip, because I knew once you got here, you'd get cold feet.  But we're
going to burst this protective bubble you've put around your heart so you can
start living again.  You need to meet new people and have exciting
experiences.  Otherwise, you're a dead soul in a living body."

Mercedes was right, of course.  Life was passing
her by.  She'd worked damn hard to gain her freedom, but what good was that if
she didn't enjoy her life.  She could admit she'd dreamt about having a man's
arms around her again, but there was a difference between the safety of dreams
and real life.  She seemed to be experiencing some disconnect between wanting
to meet someone and actually putting herself out there again.  How could she
guarantee she wouldn't lose herself in another relationship?

On their flight to Mexico, she'd seriously
considered this problem.  The answer seemed to be a fun fling with a man she'd
never see again.  That would be a good way to dip her toe into the water
without fear of drowning.  Cabo certainly offered the possibility. 
"Okay."  She sucked in a deep breath.  "I want to do this."

"Is hot sex back on the menu, then?" 
Mercedes raised a challenging brow and smiled.  Her friend had pushed right
through her doubts and had her ready to laugh again.

"You're relentless.  Besides, first, I'd have
to meet a decent guy."

Her friend gave her a confident nod.  "I
promise, somewhere in this overcrowded club, there's a perfect guy for
you."

A wild night with a hot man?  Could she really
do it?

Elena's gaze slipped to the intimidating mass of
hot, mostly younger bodies crammed on the dance floor not far from their table. 
The dancers gyrated to a wild salsa beat.  The alluring sounds vibrated through
the darkened club before spilling out onto the moonlit beach just steps outside
the door.  The urge to bury her inhibitions and experience a taste of total
freedom pulled at her like an outgoing tide.  Everyone else in the bar seemed
to be having a good time.  Why not her?

"You make finding someone sound as simple as
walking up to a street-side vendor and grabbing the first coconut I see."