Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas) (Volume 1) (25 page)

Hank stood at the entrance of the barn holding a double barrel shotgun. “I have a rule too, you sonofabitch. Nobody messes with my family.”

“Jake!” I scurried back to him, getting there seconds before Hank. I sat him up and quickly unbuttoned his shirt to get a better look in the moonlight. The finger-sized bullet hole oozed with dark blood. Hank handed me a work rag off a nearby table I was sure wasn’t entirely sanitary. But I wadded it over the wound and applied firm pressure.

“Are you all right?” Jake asked, touching my face.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that when you’re the one who’s been shot.”

Hank placed a hand on my shoulder. “Emily, where’s my girl?” he asked, his voice wavering. “Where’s Floss?”

“She’s in the woods, somewhere past the compost pile. She’s okay, but her ankle is hurt, probably broken.”

“And Cowboy? Is he with her?”

Before I could answer, a noise came from behind Hank. He swiveled, pointing his shotgun in its direction.

Ox and Judd froze in the doorway, holding weapons of their own pointed in our direction. “Whoa! Don’t shoot!” they yelled out in unison.

“About time you two got here,” Jake said as Hank lowered his weapon. “I told you to hurry. What’d y’all do…stop for a sandwich?”

“Jesus,” Ox said, looking at the two dead bodies on the ground. “Are those the mob guys?”

Jake confirmed with a nod. “Used to be.”

“We saw Hank’s truck parked on the road next to a black sedan we didn’t recognize. Must’ve been their car, huh?” Judd said. “Guess you all walked in on foot.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “But I don’t know if there’s anyone else with them. You two go check the property. Shoot anyone who doesn’t belong here.”

“Where’s Cowboy?” Ox asked.

Everyone looked back, realizing I still hadn’t answered yet. My lips trembled. “H-he’s out by the pond, but—”

“You boys go get him,” Hank said, rising to leave. “I’ll check the property and find Floss.”

“Hank, she’s armed. Let her know it’s you or she’ll shoot you at a hundred yards.”

Hank got up and set out for the door. Judd and Ox turned to go out as well. “Hold on…I need to tell you…guys, wait.” They ignored me and kept walking. “Cowboy’s been shot in the head!” I yelled to get their attention.

All three stopped in their tracks simultaneously, and Jake’s head snapped toward me.

“I don’t know if he’s…alive,” I said, my voice strained.

…

The driveway overflowed with vehicles and flashing red and blue lights beamed into the nearby pasture. It only spooked the horses more and had the birds on the property squawking. All of Hank’s neighbors and friends came out to offer assistance as soon as word got out about the intruders.

The sheriff and his three deputies had been on the scene, but because the coroner had already arrived and the immediate danger was over, they’d left on another call. It didn’t matter since they’d already taken our statements.

Two ambulances from the tri-county area remained. Floss was in one of them, given a drooling and sleep-inducing dose of painkiller. We sat in the other with Jake’s arm in a sling while listening to Ox and Judd tease Cowboy mercilessly.

“Is it Halloween?” Judd asked, looking at Cowboy’s mummified condition. “Or did someone toilet paper your noggin?”

“Well, let’s not split any hairs,” Ox said, grinning from ear to ear.

Cowboy shook his head, then winced because of it. “You guys suck, you know that?”

Looking at his bandaged head, I cringed. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“Aw, shit, darlin’, you’ve got to quit apologizing,” Cowboy said. “It wasn’t your fault. Besides, now we get to compare the size of our bullet holes.”

Hank walked up. “You don’t
have
a bullet hole, you numbskull. All you have is a scuffmark on the side of your head. Floss has a worse injury than you.”

It was the first smirk I’d seen on Jake’s face all night. “If you’re that bad off, Cowboy, we could take you out back and throw you over the fence.”

“For what?” Cowboy asked.

Jake shrugged. “Buzzards got to eat, too.”

I winced as a memory flashed through my mind of me sitting beside Dog, stroking his bloody fur as we waited for help to arrive. Jake must’ve felt my body tense and read my mind.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered into my ear. “Junior’s taking care of Dog like he promised. The paramedics checked him out and said the bullet missed his vital organs. It was a clean exit wound and Junior’s loading him into his truck right now to take him to the animal hospital. Dog’s going to be fine. ”

Before I could respond, Hank stepped away from the ambulance, his interest drawn to the driveway. “Who’s this?” he asked.

We all piled from the back of the vehicle, watching as a convoy of three government vehicles parked nearby. Jake and I exchanged worried looks. Six men stepped out, all dressed in dark blue suits, but I only recognized one of them.

Director Harvey Brockway observed Jake’s friends suspiciously, as did the other five agents. I figured it was probably because they all still held an arsenal of weapons. He scoped out the situation and approached, obviously uncomfortable with the grossly over-armed civilians.

“Agent Ward,” Brockway said, nodding to Jake.

Jake didn’t look happy to see him. “Director.”

Brockway looked directly at me. “Miss Foster, I’ve come to take you into protective custody.”

Jake didn’t give me a chance to say anything. “No,” he said to the director. “She’s already being protected.”

“Yes, apparently by a cavalry of armed citizens,” Brockway said with disgust. “Ward, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. You’re already under investigation as it is. Last thing you need is to cause more problems for yourself.”

“But she’s—”

“Jake, it’s okay,” I said, not wanting him to get in any more trouble than he was already. “We’ll get this straightened out after we all get checked out at the hospital. Right, Director Brockway?”

I hoped it would buy us more time together and give me a chance to figure out how to get Jake out of trouble.

“Oh…well, yes. I suppose so,” Brockway stammered as the coroner wheeled a gurney, weighed down with a black body bag, past us. The director wore a disheveled, stressed out expression that matched his hair and his clothes. “So Felts is really dead?” he asked shakily.

Jake nodded in confirmation, and Brockway’s face washed over with something familiar. Relief. I knew because I felt the same way.

Since nothing had to be resolved right away, Jake relaxed, but something whispered strangely to me. I pushed it away, not letting my anxieties take over and wig me out. But I couldn’t shake it completely.

It was like whittling a piece of wood inside my mind. The more you scraped away, the smaller the object would get, but it’d start to take shape, even if you didn’t know what it would become.

“You look like hell,” Jake told the director.

“What do you expect when one of my agents goes rogue and kidnaps a federal witness? I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You don’t look like you’ve gotten any sleep since I last saw you,” I said.

I wondered if his eyes were more bloodshot than Dale’s the time Gina and I had dared him to drink— Something snapped. Gina had said the exact same thing about the man who paid them a visit, a man looking for me. But why would…

“Miss Foster, is something wrong?” Brockway asked.

The clarity overwhelmed me. “I…I know.”

Jake and the others were confused, but Director Brockway looked more nervous now than when he first walked up surrounded by armed civilians.

“Miss Foster, I’ll drive you to the hospital and get you checked out. From there we’ll formalize the arrangements with the U.S. Marshals, and I’ll transfer you to a safe house myself,” Brockway said, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. It only confirmed what I knew.

At first, I thought I should be smart, keep my mouth shut, and not put myself in a precarious position. But my emotional state of mind wouldn’t allow it. After all, it was me we were talking about.

Had Jake’s arm not been in a sling, he would’ve been quicker and could’ve stopped me. I reached out, snatched Jake’s gun from his shoulder holster, and pointed it at Director Brockway. All five of the agents in suits standing behind Brockway drew their weapons and returned the favor.

“Don’t shoot!” Jake yelled to them. When he was sure they were holding fire, he turned to me. “Emily, what the hell are you doing?”

“It’s him! He’s the—”

“Miss Foster,” Brockway interrupted, “I want to express my regrets for the events leading up to your situation. I know you’re under a lot of stress, but if you don’t drop the weapon, my men will shoot you.”

“Wait!” Jake yelled, eyeing the men for itchy trigger fingers. “Emily, threatening an FBI director is a federal crime. Give me the damn gun.”

I kept the gun locked on Brockway with trembling hands, knowing I only ever hit one out of three targets at close range. Chances were good that I’d die. Chances were better that Brockway wouldn’t. For peace of mind in the event of the unthinkable, I wanted Jake to know the truth about this man. A man he trusted.

“Jake, he’s in on it,” I said, my voice straining to get him to understand. “Gina said he went by her apartment looking for me.”

Brockway let out a nervous chuckle. “Of course I did,” he said. “The FBI was looking for their agent and their lead witness. It’s only natural we’d question your friends.”

“Then why didn’t you identify yourself as a fed?”

“I did,” he said, though I knew it was a lie.

“No, you didn’t. Gina had no clue who you were. She’s the only person I talked to. How would Felts know where to look for me unless you bugged her phone somehow?” I glanced over to Jake. “It’s how they found us. He passed the information to Felts.”

“That’s ridiculous. Agent Ward, you have ten seconds to get the gun out of her hand before I order my men to fire.”

Jake tried to be objective, but wasn’t sure what to believe. “Emily, please…” Jake pleaded. “Give me the gun.”

“Jake, you once said people caught unaware made mistakes. Brockway made a mistake because he couldn’t have foreseen you taking off with his only witness. Felts must’ve been pressuring him to find me. He was relieved to learn Felts was dead. The same relief I felt.”

“Okay, enough,” Brockway said. “Ten, nine, eight…”

“Emily, give me the gun. Please…” Jake held out his hand.

Adding insult to injury, I realized Jake didn’t believe me. My heart shattered. I was in love with him—probably had been since I first laid eyes on him. And he didn’t trust me. Hell, I wasn’t even sure he liked me half the time. This person in front of me wasn’t Jake, though. It was Agent Ward. It was the first time I understood the difference.

“Four, three, two…”

I heard the quick shuffling sounds and cocking of guns as Cowboy, Judd, Ox, Hank, and the other neighbors reached for their weapons and aimed them at the FBI agents. The cavalry chose to be on my side.

“Drop ’em, boys!” Hank yelled out.

“You better do as he says,” Brockway called out to our entire group.

“I was talking to
your
boys,” Hank said, nodding toward the five government men. “Not mine.”

The blood drained from Brockway’s face, and I knew he was a man backed into a corner. He didn’t like being challenged and was starting to unravel.

Unlike Jake, the rest of them believed me. I saw it in their faces. But it only made me question my lingering self-doubt. What if I was wrong? It’s not like it would be the first time. I couldn’t forgive myself if any of them got hurt again because of me. Especially if Brockway wasn’t the culprit.

Jake kept me safe all this time, and it was time for me to return the favor. It was like walking a plank above a man-eating shark, but I handed Jake the gun. I refused to leave him unarmed for what I was about to do.

Chapter Twenty-two

I stepped toward Brockway. “I have proof you helped Felts,” I said, deliberately misleading him, knowing the fear would push him over the edge. He’d be forced to react.

Director Brockway grabbed me forcefully around the neck, throwing my body off balance. He turned me around and pressed the cool metal of his gun against my temple. He blew on my back like a bull, the pressure of my words having thrown him off-kilter.

“Nobody move or I’ll kill her.”

Jake and the others turned their guns on Director Brockway, who shielded his body with mine. The other five agents decided the civilians were no longer the bigger threat and did the same.

“Let her go, Brockway!” Jake called out.

Brockway walked backward, taking us out of the bright lights and into the shadows toward the government vehicles. I didn’t think he’d kill me…at least not yet. He needed me alive to get away. But as soon as he got away, I’d become disposable. Physically and emotionally drained, the knowledge brought unexpected tears to my eyes. It was a terrifying, recurring nightmare.

Then something happened.

I closed my eyes and gasped a deep breath, feeling his presence before I smelled the warm, familiar minty scent. A strong sense of safety washed over me, wrapping me in a veil of comfort and peace. I opened my eyes as Junior came at Brockway, moving with lightning speed and brute force.

Junior slashed with the large buck knife, slicing away flesh from both of Brockway’s arms. It was the efficiency of a hunter. Brockway dropped the gun and released me at the same time. The enraged look on Junior’s face had shown how unstable he was in that moment. The fear that he’d kill Brockway to protect me held everyone else at bay. As if an invisible, impenetrable ring of fire circled us.

Brockway was on the ground, howling in pain and bleeding profusely from both arms. Junior held the large knife to his neck, daring him to move, looking for a reason to kill him. He wanted to. I could feel it. As if Junior’s thoughts and emotions flowed through me. I laid a comforting hand on his shoulder and his body relaxed. He released a calming breath.

Junior rose slowly, wiped the bloody knife on his jeans, and slid it into the leather sheath on his side. We traded glances. There were no words for what had just happened. Just heartache. No one had been there to stop him when he killed the man who’d murdered his daughter. Though I don’t think he regretted it, Junior wasn’t a man who’d snuff out another man’s life without it penetrating his soul.

He kissed my temple, squeezed my hand, and walked out into the pasture, blending into the shadows. I knew his keen hawk-eyes kept watch over me, though. He was a good man who fiercely protected the ones he loved. And I was fortunate to be loved by him.

The whole group swarmed me. Hank and the other boys hovered, making sure I was all right, while Jake picked up Brockway’s gun and shoved it into his waistband for safekeeping. After squeezing his way through and groping for me in the crowd, Jake pulled me out of Hank’s big bear arms and into his own.

The feds allowed the paramedics to load Director Brockway into the ambulance. They stood guard as the deep lacerations on his arms were treated and bandaged.

Jake didn’t say anything, but he stayed close. He kept one hand on his gun and both eyes fixed on me. I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I thought it was a sign. He and I were nowhere near out of the woods.

…

At the hospital, I stayed with Hank as we waited for news on Floss and Jake. Floss had to have surgery to reset her anklebone with pins and screws. Jake had to have the bullet removed from his shoulder, though it hadn’t done any major damage. Director Brockway was having surgery as well.

I overheard one of the doctors question the nurse about the man who had cut Director Brockway. “Was he a surgeon?”

The nurse shook her head. “No, I was told he’s a hunter.”

“Of animals or people?” the doctor asked seriously. “The man who did this would’ve had extensive knowledge of where to slice through a human arm to incapacitate him and cause the most damage by severing the correct tendons. Even if we can repair the damage, the director may never be able to use his hands again.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Hank came over with a cup of coffee. “Hank, do you think Junior is dangerous?”

Hank chuckled at me. “Honey, I
know
Junior is dangerous. He did government contract work back when I was still in the FBI—”

“You were in the FBI?”

“I was Director of the Chicago Division, like Brockway,” Hank replied. “Jake’s father worked under me. It’s how we met. I passed the position on to him when I retired. He was a good man, like his son. I guess no one told you Jake’s not my nephew…not biologically, anyway.”

Lightly touching my hand to his, I smiled. “Jake’s your family, blood or not. Like you said to Felts, nobody messes with your family. And Jake’s the son you and Floss never had.”

“Emily, when I said that, I wasn’t talking about Jake. That boy can take care of himself. I was talking about
you
. You’re as much our family now as he is.”

Sweet of him to say, even if it wasn’t true. This wasn’t my family. It was Jake’s. I didn’t doubt their concern for my well-being, but I didn’t want their sympathy any more than I wanted their pity. I wanted to be loved and have a family to call my own, but it wasn’t something Jake had offered me.

Riddled with guilt, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jake had said.
If anybody gets hurt, it’s going to be all on you.
He was right. This was my fault, and they should all hate me. Probably would after they thought about it long enough. I’d been unfairly thrust into all of their lives because of the situation.

I was a temporary fixture and had already overstayed my welcome. I didn’t want to say good-bye to any of them, especially Jake, but I didn’t see any other option. Maybe there is such a thing as becoming too enmeshed in someone else’s life.

I blinked, keeping my emotions in check and forcing the sadness back down as three U.S. Marshals entered the lobby.

“Emily Foster?” one of them asked.

I nodded in response.

“Can you come with us? We need to speak with you privately.” One of the nurses buzzed us in and led us to one of the conference rooms at the end of the hallway. “Please sit,” he said as he shut the door, leaving the other two marshals outside to guard the door. “I’m Carter Sullivan with the US Federal Marshals Service,” he said, offering his hand.

“Is that necessary?” I asked, motioning to the men on the other side of the glass door. “Frankie Felts is dead.”

“Until his organization is broken up, you’ll need to be protected. There’s still a contract on your head…at least until the news of his death is made public. Money talks, you know. That’s why we think Director Brockway gave information to Felts, to pay off some gambling debts he had accumulated.”

I cut right to the chase. “Is Agent Ward in trouble?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. “An investigation is already under way as to his conduct. Kidnapping a federal witness is a serious crime.”

“Kidnapping? He saved me…and more than once, I might add.”

“Yes, but Agent Ward’s methods are questionable. He’s going to have to have some higher connections to get out of this one with his career still intact.”

I think he was referring to God, but my mind instantly went to Hank. Maybe he still had some connections in the department who could help Jake, especially now that the informant had been caught. That would certainly help Jake’s case.

But what about me? I hadn’t even considered where that would leave me after this was all over. Jake would no longer feel responsible for my well-being and probably end up resenting me for weighing him down. Then I’d be abandoned. Again. And that was something I couldn’t bear to think about. I’d have to get used to the idea of returning to my old life…a life without Jake.

“We need to take you to a safe house,” Sullivan said. “I can understand if you’re reluctant to cooperate with the U.S. Marshals Service, but—”

“Okay.”

He looked confused and almost put out. “Excuse my surprise, ma’am, but from everything I’ve been told about you, I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

“What’d you think…you’d have to drag me out of here kicking and screaming?”

“It seemed to be the general consensus.”

“Well, I do have a few stipulations.”

The agent grinned, but shook his head. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“It is now,” I said. “Unless you’d rather I talk to the press.”

His smiled faded. “Ma’am, I could arrest you and keep you in a cell for the duration, if I have to. The government doesn’t take kindly to threats.”

“Neither do I.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “If you want my full cooperation, then I want two things. One being an update on Agent Ward’s medical condition after we leave here. So I know he’s okay. And two, I want you to keep my whereabouts a secret.”

The Marshal laughed heartily. “Miss Foster, isn’t that the point of witness protection?”

“You don’t understand,” I told him. “I don’t want Agent Ward or anybody in connection with him, including the FBI, to know where I am.”

“It won’t be a problem.” The agent grinned at the thought of hiding me from the FBI. “Would you like to say good-bye to Agent Ward? I understand you and he became…close,” he said, politely trying to find an appropriate word.

Thinking of saying good-bye to Jake made me feel vulnerable. My throat tightened, and my bottom lip quivered. I wouldn’t be able to do it. And I didn’t want Jake or the others to see me like this.

I had foolishly fallen in love with a man who didn’t love me back. Jake was like a really good book, where you want to savor the whole thing, but then you’re disappointed when it ends. That was my problem. I wasn’t going to get my happily ever after. It was the end.

Jake had been my compass for the last few weeks, guiding me and pointing me in the right direction. Now it was time to take matters into my own hands. Even if it meant changing course. Jake had protected my body, but only I could protect my heart.

I smiled tearfully at the marshal. “I don’t do good-byes.”

…

Two Months Later…

“Someone get the door,” I yelled from the kitchen.

Gina and Dale continued sitting on the couch, watching a movie, as if they never heard me.

Irritated, I walked past them. “Seriously? First, you two refuse to help me unpack. Now I have to make popcorn
and
answer your door?”

Gina flashed me a grin. “It’s your door now, too.”

“Yeah,” Dale agreed, “The rules state the newest household member has to answer the door.”

“Whose rules?”

“Ours.”

“You can’t make up rules as you go along,” I said, swinging the door open. I froze as my eyes raked over Jake standing in the doorway.

He glared at me with stormy eyes of fury and a throbbing vein bulged out of his neck. “Okay,” he grumbled, “Who the hell are you, and what did you do with Emily? Because the Emily I knew never followed anyone’s rules.”

At first I stood there, robotic, unable to react. Jake’s commanding presence had a bewildering power over me. My buried emotions clawed their way to the surface and came out in the form of a two-month-old grudge.

“My name’s not Emily. It’s—”

“You’re still Emily to
me
.”

“What can I do for you, Agent Ward?” I asked, my tone sizzling with attitude.

“Don’t give me that crap. We need to talk,” Jake said as he started to enter the apartment.

I blocked his entry with my arm. “No, we don’t. There’s nothing left to say.”

“I just spent two very long months looking for you.” He gave me a look that sent a chill through my bones. “I disagree.”

I sighed with impatience. “Jake, what do you want?”

“What I want is to fit your ass with a transmitter or a homing device,” he said, still eyeing my arm on the doorjamb. “Are you going to let me in or what?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He lifted an eyebrow and grinned.

“Fine,” I told him as I stepped to the side. “You get two minutes.”

Gina and Dale had turned completely, watching us with their arms hooked around the back of the couch. Apparently, this scene was better than the one on TV.

“Do you guys mind giving us the room?” I thought asking them to leave was safer than being alone with Jake in a bedroom.

“Man, you always spoil our fun,” Dale said.

Gina grinned. “It’s okay. We’ll go to my room and listen through the door.” They disappeared into her bedroom.

I turned to Jake. “I’ve been out of federal custody and back in Chicago for less than twenty-four hours. How did you find me?”

“I didn’t,” Jake said with a smirk. “I had your friends call me the moment you got back.”

“Tattletale!” Gina called out from the bedroom.

Jake reached for me, but I pulled away, making him grunt in disapproval. “Emily, I went crazy when I realized you left. No one would tell me where you were. They said it was at your request. Why would you block me from finding you?”

“Because I obviously didn’t
want
you to find me. Not that I thought it would matter,” I said, shrugging. “After all, you have your own personal Indian tracker.”

He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration, and his jaw tightened with a grimace. “Chief Dumbshit wouldn’t help me. He said you needed to come back on your own. That it should be your choice, not mine.”

“Good man,” I said with a smirk.

“He said to tell you hello, and Floss wanted me to thank you for the flowers.”

I smiled with delight. “She knew I sent them?”

“I don’t know how, since the card was signed from God. But, yeah, she knew.” Jake shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Everyone misses you.”

I didn’t want to cry, but knew I was on the verge of it. “I think I’ve tainted all of their lives enough,” I said in a callous tone as I moved farther away.

Jake snagged me up by my elbow before I could get out of reach. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that? You don’t just burn bridges. Oh, no, not you, Emily… You have to blow the sonofabitches up.”