The Girl from Her Mirror (Mirrors Don't Lie Book 1) (25 page)

“That’s wonderful!” she said with a
smile of true appreciation.

As she left the doctor’s office with
only a slight limp, she made a suggestion to her companion. “Let’s celebrate
with a Starbucks run. I’ve been craving one of their scones and a Skinny
Vanilla Latte.”

“What kind of scone?”

“Orange cranberry.”

“I might could be persuaded,” Travis
decided, a small smile hovering around his tight mouth.

Ten minutes later, they were sitting in
the back of the trendy coffee shop, sipping their coffee and enjoying their
crumbling treats.

“Mm. You don’t appreciate the little
things in life, until you have to go without for a while,” Makenna said, savoring
the taste of the delectable scone. “I was going stir-crazy in that apartment.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Reagan, but it’s for
your safety.”

“Seriously? You’re still calling me Miss
Reagan? You sleep on my couch every-other-night. Call me Makenna.”

“Makenna, then,” he said. His unexpected
smile would have flipped her heart, had it not already belonged to another.

“I suppose the timing has been pretty
good,” Makenna had to admit. “Neither one of us has felt much like getting out,
what with our crutches and all. And Kenzie says she doesn’t have a thing to
wear that matches her cast.”

The slightest of expressions crossed
Travis’ handsome face, but Makenna saw it. Biting back a smile, already knowing
the answer to her question, she said, “You and my sister don’t seem to get
along all that well. Why is that?”

“My job isn’t to get along or not get
along with my clients. My job is to protect them.” He made the statement with a
stoic look set upon his face.

She was aware of the spark between her
sister and Travis Merka, but she was even more aware of the danger she and
Kenzie were in. Sobering, she asked, “So how much longer do you think we’ll
need protecting?”

“Hard to say. We have reason to believe
that our message has been received, but so far there’s no indication that Foto
has left Texas.”

“Do we know he’s in Austin?”

“Last known whereabouts was San Antonio,
eight days ago. There have been reported sightings of him here in the Capitol,
but nothing conclusive.”

“And so we wait…” Makenna spoke softly,
but her heavy sigh said it all.

With Makenna back on her feet and both
women feeling better each day, Madeline returned to her own home for a few
days. Before leaving, she stocked their refrigerator with soups and casseroles
and pre-made salads, and made enough brownies and cookies to treat half the
apartment building. Yet when the girls saw a commercial for their favorite
pizza establishment, they begged the Rangers for a supreme pizza from The Pie
Shack. 

Much to their surprise, it was Ranger
Merka who swayed the vote in their favor. He, too, had a weakness for the
traditional styled pizza fired in a wood oven, and he was the one to call in
the order, then wait in the hallway to clear the delivery boy’s credentials.

While they waited for its arrival,
Makenna and Hardin set the table, working in quiet unison. It was the first
meal the four of them would be sharing together, without Madeline, and Makenna
still wanted it to be nice. They had all gotten spoiled to her mother’s little
touches of a correctly set table, matching glasses, dessert with every meal,
and an occasional simple centerpiece. Tonight might only be take-out, but
Makenna wanted them to eat on ceramic plates and drink from real glasses.

“I think I’ve got this right,” Hardin
said, placing the napkin on the left side of the plate.

“Mom would be so proud,” she teased.

“Just wait till you meet my mom. All the
silverware has to match, as well.” His blue eyes were twinkling as he offered a
rare glimpse of hope for the future.

Kenzie was slowly making her way into
the dining area, or ‘getting a head start on the crowd’ as she liked to say.
Travel on the crutches was still slow and painful. “Sounds like the pizza is
here,” she said, swinging toward the door when she heard the knock. She knew it
was safe to open, because Travis was on the other side. He might not be the
friendliest of men, but he was definitely a professional.

She opened the door, allowing the
delivery boy to enter with two hot and steaming pizza boxes. “Mm, smells
great,” she breathed, balancing herself on one foot as she held the door open.
She glanced briefly at the man, thinking he was older than most of the
college-aged men who worked for the restaurant, but she admired him for at
least working, and not living off welfare. He was dressed in their typical
summer uniform of baggy cargo shorts and tee with a slip-on apron vest, both
emblazoned with The Pie Shack logo.

When Travis didn’t immediately follow
the man inside, she poked her head out the door. “Travis?” she called, frowning
into the empty hall.

“He stepped away for a few minutes,” the
deliveryman offered.

Around the corner, Makenna froze. She
knew that voice. Her eyes flew to Hardin, who was frowning the moment he heard
the words. Before he could move forward, she grabbed his arm. Eyes wide,
Makenna mouthed a silent message. “That’s the man from the store. Foto.”

Hardin immediately put himself between
her and the dangerous man. With hand signals, he motioned for her to stay back
and stay put.

When he made a cautious step forward, so
did Makenna. He turned to glare at her, but she gave an imperial lift of her
chin, the defiance clear in her eyes. In a very brief battle of wills, waged
solely by the daggers in their eyes, Hardin fought for control, but Makenna
wielded her might; that was her sister in there, after all. Hardin’s silent
glare warned her to stay behind him and follow his lead.

In the foyer, Kenzie was closing the
door in confusion, locking it out of habit, and turning back to the short man
holding the pizzas. She was perplexed by the sinister smile on his face as he
leered at her.

“You couldn’t follow my instructions,
could you, little lady? You couldn’t just give the message to your father.”

“What? What are talking about? That
wasn’t my father who ordered -” Her words wavered as it suddenly dawned upon
her who the man was. Behind him, she saw Hardin approaching stealthily,
signaling for her to keep talking. “- the pizza,” she finished lamely. Trying
to sound normal, she forced herself not to look at Hardin. “That was my
boyfriend who ordered,” she continued, her strained voice gaining strength.
“Did you get the order wrong? He’ll be really mad if you put anchovies on his
pizza. Let me see if you got it right.”

“Cut the act. You know exactly what I’m
talking about. I told you back in New Hampshire, tell your old man we’re
looking for him.”

“I have no idea where my father is. I
haven’t seen him in years.” She didn’t bother explaining he had her confused
with her sister. Another step, and Hardin would be within arm’s reach of the
man. “And if I remember right, he doesn’t even like pizza!”

With a swift upward jerk of her crutch,
Kenzie knocked the pizzas from his hands as Hardin rushed forward. He grabbed
the man from behind, but the flimsy material of the apron promptly tore free
under Hardin’s grasp. As the man staggered forward, he grabbed Kenzie’s crutch
and she pitched sideways, right into his chest. He quickly used her body as a
shield, jerking her roughly against him as he demanded Hardin move out where he
could see him.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” Kenzie yelled
angrily. “Give me back my crutch!”

“Turn her loose, Foto,” Hardin growled.

“Or what? You don’t have a gun on you,
and you don’t have backup. I took care of the Ranger in the hall, by the way.”
Foto’s smile was as cold and lifeless as his eyes. He took a step back, keeping
Kenzie tight against him.

“You heard the lady. She has no idea
where her old man is.” Hardin tried to keep the man talking while his mind
raced for a solution. Foto was right; his gun was in his holster, back in the
living room. Thank God Makenna had followed his instructions and remained in
the dining area. If he could keep Foto moving, he might could slip in front,
reach around the open doorway into the small galley kitchen, and grab a knife
from the knife block. He knew it sat on the edge of the counter. “Joseph
Mandarino was a lousy father. She left home the moment she turned eighteen and
hasn’t seen him since.”

A look of uncertainty flashed in the
Italian man’s eyes, but was gone in an instant. “I’ve got to find Mandarino.
You might say it’s a life or death situation.” From seemingly nowhere, he
produced a knife and held it to Kenzie’s throat. With her solidly in front of
him, he started backing away, dragging her with him until his hip brushed
against the dining room table.

Hardin darted a glance into the room,
wondering where Makenna had disappeared to. Not that it mattered. As long as
she was out of sight, she was safe, at least for the moment.

“Exactly what do you plan to do, Foto?”
He continued to speak in a calm, rational voice, even as he crept forward at a
snail’s pace. “What’s next?”

“You’re going to back up, and let me out
of here.”

“Fine.” Pretending to be agreeable,
Hardin leaned casually against the kitchen doorway, his hand groping inside.
“But leave the lady here.”

“No way. She goes with me. Even if she
can’t lead me to Mandarino, she’s my ticket out of here.” He held the knife
closer, the cold edge of steel touching against her neck.

“You know I can’t let you take her out
of here.” He groped blindly for the knives, his straining fingers finally
brushing the edge of the wooden storage block.

“And how are you going to stop me?” the
other man leered. “And get your hand out here where I can see it.”

Beneath the table, Makenna gathered her
courage. She had never stabbed a person before. She stared at the backs of the
short man’s legs, wondering where would be the most painful and damaging spot
of entry. She tested the weight of the forks in her hand, judging the right
amount of force to use. She might have only one chance, so she had to make it
count.

“There are surveillance cameras in the
hall. They’re directly fed into Ranger Headquarters,” Hardin lied. “Right now,
at least two dozen highly trained professionals are on their way here,
including two or more expert sniper rifleman. You don’t have a chance of
escape.”

“For the lady’s sake, you’d better hope
that’s not so. She’ll never live to see- Ouch! Son of a bitch! What the -
Awwrgg!” He screamed in pain, lurching to the side, as Makenna drove the tines
of three forks into the fleshy soft spot beside his right ankle. 

Blood spurted in her face, but she
refused to acknowledge the horror. After burying the shiny tips in his flesh as
far as she could, she left the forks hanging, dangling there from the tissue
and tendons they stabbed. From her hiding spot, she could see Kenzie’s legs
shuffle away, and Hardin’s feet rush forward. Makenna immediately picked up the
butter knife and remaining fork, and jabbed them into the calf of Foto’s left
leg. As the man howled in anguish and started to fall, she twisted the utensils
with all her might.

Kenzie fell away to the side, half
hopping, half dragging her plastered foot until she was clear of the scene
playing out in the dining room. She collapsed against the front door as Hardin
and the swarthy man wrestled on the floor just feet away, both fighting for
control of the knife. It was a fierce battle of raw strength that had first one
man on top, then the other. With a loud grunt and the unmistakable snap of
bone, the knife flew from the gangster’s hand, but he continued to fight. As
the men exchanged blows, the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the
apartment. With an almost primal cry, Hardin flung his body on top of the
Italian one last time, trapping Foto under him.

Confident Hardin had the upper hand,
Makenna crawled past the fighting men. When her hand brushed against the
discarded knife, she slung it out of the way and kept crawling. She continued
on her quest to her sister, who was now sobbing at the foot of the door.

As Hardin straddled Foto’s compact body
and pummeled his face with his fists, the door began to tremble under the
fierce pounding of Travis Merka’s angry hand. “Open up!” he demanded. “Open
this door before I break it down!”

“Oh my gosh, Kenzie, I was so afraid for
you! Are you all right?” Makenna demanded, even as she slid her sister’s
trembling body away from the door. Calling through the door, she told Travis to
give them one minute to move out of the way. “Come on, honey, we’ve got to
move. You don’t have to get up. Just slide.”

Once clear of the door, she reached up
and unlocked it. Travis burst through immediately, blood dripping from his
forehead and seeping from the white expanse of his shirt, but his gun was drawn
and already trained on the man beneath Hardin.

“Kaczmarek!” he barked. “Lay off, man.
I’ve got him.”

Out of breath, Hardin sat back on his
heels, resting heavily upon the other man’s stomach. He glanced at his own
bloodied knuckles, then at the corresponding blood and bruises on the twitching
man’s swollen and battered face.

“Can’t-Can’t breathe,” the man gasped.

“Having trouble, myself,” Hardin
replied, his breath heavy and labored. He rested for another long moment, until
Foto’s face began to turn purple and his breath came in short and strangled
gasps. Hardin finally moved away, taking no care in where his knees or feet
might hit in the process. He heard multiple grunts and groans as he rolled
away, some of them his own.

Laid out flat on the floor, Hardin
gulped in deep breaths of air and gathered his wits. “Makenna!” he bellowed.

“I’m here. I’m here!” Scrambling onto
her knees, Makenna hugged her sister one more time, then crawled to Hardin.
“I’m fine. Kenzie’s fine. We’re both fine. Are you- are you all right?”

“Will be,” he huffed out the words.
“Soon as I’m holding you.”

Makenna flung herself onto his sprawled
body, knocking even more wind from his lungs. But his arms came up to encircle
her and his mouth met hers in a crushing, claiming kiss. As Makenna whimpered
and returned his kiss with salty tears, her hands roamed his shoulders, his
face, his hair. She frantically touched him, making certain he was in one
piece.

Behind them, Travis swayed just a little
as he kept his pistol trained on the writhing form of Ray Foto. “Raymond Foto,
you are under arrest.” After reading the criminal his Miranda Rights, Travis kicked
at Hardin’s foot. He was still kissing Makenna and holding her as if his life
depended on it.

“Are you going to help me here, or do I
have to do this all myself?” he complained. “I’m the one who’s bleeding, after
all.”

Makenna slowly moved off Hardin,
reluctant to turn loose. As she struggled to get to her feet, Travis offered
her a hand. Unsteady on his feet, he nearly toppled them both to the floor.

“Are you all right?” she asked sharply,
noting his pasty skin and the red that continued to spread across his chest.

“Back-up is on the way. And as soon as
you quit kissing my partner, I might let him take over so I can have a seat.”
But instead of waiting for Hardin to get to his feet, Travis leaned into the
wall and sank slowly to the floor.

“Kenzie!” Makenna called over her
shoulder to her sister. “I think he’s really hurt.”

Kenzie quickly scooted her way across
the floor, her frantic gaze on the Ranger’s sallow face. As his head lolled
back against the wall, Kenzie took his face in her hands and tried to rouse
him. “What is it? Where are you hurt?” She saw a gash on his head and blood
trickling down his forehead, but the cut didn’t appear to be deep. His chest,
however, was oozing blood. Without thinking, she ripped open his shirt, gasping
when she saw the huge slash across his chest. Foto’s knife had sliced through
the muscled tapestry, marring the perfection of his chest.