At Any Cost (23 page)

The sound of a clip sliding into place answered him.
So much for diplomacy
. Not that Nick had ever considered himself much of a diplomat. He could hide behind the counter and they could do this song and dance all over again, but he wasn't interested in wasting another goddamned second. Livy was out there and could be hurt or worse. God, he hoped not worse. He'd be damned if anything or anyone got in the way of him finding her.

The thought that something horrible might have happened to Livy chilled his blood in a way that the winter cold never could. Fear unlike anything he'd ever felt gripped his heart with icy talons that wouldn't let go. He had to find her, assure himself that she was safe before he went out of his damned mind with worry.

He squinted through the darkness as though that would help him to see. Nick knew all he was going to manage was a few wild shots. He'd settle for accidentally winging the bastard at this point. Nick pushed himself up from the floor, gun at the ready. He swung the weapon to his left, toward the hallway that led to the bedroom. His finger caressed the trigger as he waited....

A shadow to his right drew Nick's attention and he swung his arm around, aimed at the open doorway, and squeezed off two successive shots. Steam rose from the body, illuminated by the bright snow outside, before it collapsed in the doorway and then landed on the floor. Nick's arm dropped and he let out a shuddering breath as he braced a hand on the kitchen counter. It didn't matter how many times he discharged his firearm, it never got easier. It never failed to rattle him.

Nick didn't have time to be rattled or anything else. He charged through the front door, leaping over the body that blocked his path. Snow and sneakers weren't the ideal combination and he nearly fell on his ass as he slid down the icy front steps of his porch.

Nick's steps slowed as he hit the driveway. Visibility wasn't great, but he could make out a trough in the middle of the tire tracks that marred the new snow that had fallen overnight. He took off toward the tracks and followed them down the lane. Nick's heart hammered in his rib cage despite his measured pace. His heavy breaths fogged the early morning air and he fought to keep his focus on what he could see and hear,
not
the distressing images his overactive imagination wanted to conjure.

The tracks stopped at the end of the lane and cut across a small lot. Nick clutched the grip of his Glock as he waded through the deep snow and onto the next lane. From there, his pace quickened as he noticed the trail ended at a small cabin fifty yards away. The front door of the cabin was wide open, the interior dark. Nick took a stumbling step forward as the breath stalled in his chest. If anything had happened to Livy, someone would pay with their life.

Nick brought his gun up as he approached the front porch. Livy stepped out the front door at the same moment, her eyes wide with fear. Behind her, with a gun pressed to her temple, was the man Nick had spent months tracking down.

That the bastard would risk coming out of hiding only proved that the ledger Livy had in her possession had enough shit in it to put some heavy hitters away. It also proved that Joel had come in person because he didn't trust anyone to clean up the mess but himself.

“Back away!” Meecum shouted. “Unless you want her brains scattered all over the snow.”

Nick held his hands up in the air and made a show of taking his finger off the trigger as he backed away from the porch. “Take it easy,” he said. “No one has to get hurt.”

Meecum snorted. “I'd say it's a little late for promises like that, don't you?”

True, the rest of Meecum's guys were either bleeding or dead.

“Lose the piece.”

“I can't do that.” The second Nick discarded his gun, he was dead.

“You want her to die?” Meecum asked.

Nick glanced at Livy. The eastern sky started to show the first signs of dawn and it cast her face in shades of gray that gave her an ashen pallor. Nick swallowed down the lump of emotion that rose in his throat. If Meecum shot her, he might as well shoot Nick, too, because he knew there was no way he'd ever be able to live without her.

“I think we both know that you can't let her walk away from this.”

Livy flashed him a look that was half resignation, half fear. He hadn't said anything that she didn't already know. What he wanted to tell her was that he'd throw himself in front of a bullet before he ever let anything happen to her.

“We're goin' for a walk,” Meecum said. “If you try anything, I'll make her watch while I drill a bullet in your head. Understand?”

Nick kept his arms up. “I hear you.”

Livy visibly trembled as Meecum guided her down the stairs. As they passed him, Nick realized that it wasn't dawn's light that gave her skin a deathlike hue. She was practically blue from the cold. Her face was swollen—one eye almost completely shut—and bruises marred both of her delicate cheeks. A wave of rage washed over Nick. If the local cops didn't show up soon, he didn't think he could keep himself on the straight and narrow and arrest Meecum like he knew he should.

Nick felt Livy's pain in every step taken back to her house. Meecum had come for his ledger; Livy had obviously agreed to give it to him. By the time they walked the few hundred yards back to Livy's house, her teeth chattered. Meecum came to a stop at the bottom of Livy's stairs and he pulled her to a halt beside him.

“That's close enough!” Meecum barked. “You're making me twitchy, Deputy.” Nick sure fucking hoped so. “We're going inside and you're staying right fucking here. Understand?”

Right. Like Meecum would let him hang around on the porch while Livy got his ledger. Nick knew that Meecum would shoot him the first chance he got. Nick didn't think he could protect himself and Livy. If it came to a shootout, he had to hope he was the faster man on the trigger.

From the corner of his eye, Nick noticed Livy inch away from Meecum. He hooked his finger around the trigger of his Glock, ready to squeeze off a shot. A clump of heavy snow fell from the tree near Livy's driveway. Meecum started and turned toward the sound at the exact moment Livy turned and reached for her snow shovel that stood propped against the deck. She swung it in a wide arc and caught Meecum in the face. He staggered backward and his revolver discharged.

“Livy, get down!”

She fell to the ground at the same moment Nick threw himself at Meecum. Snow flew up around them as they struggled. Meecum caught him in the gut with a wild swing and Nick doubled over. The pain barely registered in the wake of his adrenaline rush, though, and Nick countered with an uppercut that caught the bastard at the edge of his jaw. Nick used Meecum's momentary disorientation to his advantage. He kicked out and caught him in the knee, sending him to the ground with a grunt. He followed up with a left hook that put Meecum down once and for all.

Nick didn't waste another second. He dropped his Glock, threw himself fully on top of Meecum, and laid his knee into the son of a bitch's back. With a jerk, he hauled one arm and then the other behind the bastard and held them in his left hand as he fished his cuffs from the front pocket of his sweatshirt. He secured them around Meecum's wrists, sure to make them extra tight, as he read Miranda to one of the U.S. Marshals Office's top fifteen most wanted fugitives.

“Joel Meecum,” Nick said with satisfaction. “You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent . . .”

He repeated the words that he'd spoken a hundred times in the course of his career, but his focus was on Livy. Her face was swollen and bleeding, she shivered violently as she leaned on the shovel for support. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she took in lungsful of shuddering breaths that filled the air above her with steam. In the distance, the sounds of sirens grew louder and for the first time in what felt like hours, Nick let out a sigh of relief. He'd thought that cuffing Meecum would be one of the most profound moments of his career—hell—his
life
. But as his eyes drank in the woman who'd managed to steal his heart, he realized that there were much more important things in life than taking down the bad guy.

Nick loved Livy. No matter what. And he wasn't ever going to let her go.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Livy slumped against the front porch steps and then into the snow as she watched Nick cuff Joel Meecum. She was past the point of feeling cold—of feeling anything, really—and her eyes drifted shut despite the adrenaline that coursed through her veins. God, she was tired. It might have been bad timing, but a nap wouldn't hurt, would it?

“Livy?” Nick's voice sounded as though it came from miles away and not just beside her. “Hey! Livy, talk to me.”

“Later,” she mumbled. “After I wake up.”

Her eyes cracked for the barest moment. Nick loomed over her, his expression pinched with concern. His mouth moved but no sound seemed to come out. Weird, because from the looks of it, he was shouting at her. A slow smile curved Livy's mouth. Nick was the most breathtaking man she'd ever laid eyes on. “I love you, Nick,” she said before she drifted into a dark and dreamless sleep. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.”

* * *

Warm, humid air expanded Livy's lungs. Good God. Had she fallen asleep and woken up in the freaking rain forest? She pawed at her face, at the plastic cup that covered her mouth. She had a feeling there was a fantastic story behind how she wound up in the jungle with a cup on her face. Her thoughts began to clear and Livy realized that there couldn't possibly be a fantastic story because that would require having an actual life. Livy didn't have friends to party with. She didn't live anywhere near the jungle. Her life was about the snow and cold and days of never-ending loneliness and isolation. Well, sort of. A pair of dark, intense eyes came to mind and Livy smiled. Nick. The godlike man of her dreams. Adonis with a badge and sidearm.

Livy sucked in a sharp breath of warm air. Her eyes flew open and she choked on the exhale. Bright light nearly blinded her as an unfamiliar room came into focus. She clawed at her face, at the mask that covered her nose and mouth. Something connected to the back of her left hand that gave a tug and she looked over to see an IV tube taped there.

Alarms beeped and blared in the recesses of her mind as her heart rate kicked into overdrive. Panic infused her veins and her head swam. What in the hell was going on? Where was Nick? The last thing she remembered he had Joel on the ground and . . .

“Hey.” A deep, comforting voice caressed her ears. “Hey.” Firmer this time. “Livy, try to calm down. You're okay. You're in the hospital.” Nick's gorgeous face filled her vision and she wanted to cry with relief. “Do you understand me? I need you to settle down.”

Settle down?
Unanswered questions peppered Livy's brain. They both could have died! She didn't know if she could ever settle down again.

Livy started to talk but it was tough with her face all covered up. She reached for the mask once again and Nick's expression became stern as he reached out and took her wrists in his hands. “Hold on. Do me a favor and quit trying to rip out your IV and I'll help you with your mask. Deal?”

Livy nodded.

“Okay, first things first. Lie back.”

She let herself fall back against the hard hospital pillows. She inhaled another deep breath of warm air before letting it out slowly. Once she was settled down, Nick reached over her and gently removed the mask from her face.

“Why am I breathing in rain-forest air?” Livy asked. She rubbed at her cheeks where the elastic had rested and instantly regretted it. Tears sprang to her eyes from the pain that radiated from both of her cheeks and down through her jaw. “Ow.” She groaned. “Ow, ow, ow.”

Nick's brow furrowed. He reached out and smoothed her hair back. “You're hypothermic,” he said. “You lost consciousness and your heart rate was dangerously slow. We had to get you warmed up.” His wan smile and furrowed brow conveyed his worry and anxiety tugged at Livy's chest. “Warm blankets, warm air, IV fluids, the whole nine yards.”

Livy tried to push herself up farther on the bed and she realized heavy, warm blankets weighed down her torso. Why not her legs? Her arms? Her eyes went wide and the sounds on the machines attached to her perked up once again. “Did I lose my toes?” God, she wasn't sure she could feel them. Livy tried to sit up, to tear off the blankets, but Nick urged her to stay put. “My feet?” How bad was it? She didn't know if she could handle it if she could never ski again. “Don't sugarcoat it, Nick. Give it to me straight.”

He answered her with a nervous chuckle. “You didn't lose any toes or feet. It's dangerous not to warm you up from the middle outward. That's all. You have mild frostbite on your toes and your fingers were almost there but you're going to be okay. No amputations. I promise.”

“You swear?”

Nick lifted two fingers. “Scout's honor.”

Relief swamped her. The tears she'd tried to quell escaped and rolled down her cheeks. “Do I look horrible?” Joel had really done a number on her. She doubted she'd be winning any beauty pageants in the near future.

Nick's jaw squared. “There's only one other time in my life I've wanted to hurt someone that badly.” His voice quavered and he took a slow breath through flared nostrils. “When I saw what he did to you—”

Livy reached out and took his hand in hers. “But it's over, right? You arrested him?”

Nick gave a sharp nod of his head as he averted his gaze. He wasn't telling her everything. Not that Livy was surprised. She knew she wouldn't walk away from this scot-free.

“It's not over, though.” Sadness cut through her, deep and sharp. “Is it?”

Nick opened his mouth to speak at the same moment the door swung open. A uniformed sheriff's deputy walked in and a guy in jeans and a striped button-up followed him. Nick's gaze darkened. “You can talk to her later when she's feeling better.”

Livy gave him a searching gaze. Her heart rate kicked up. “I feel fine.”

Nick quirked a challenging brow. She sensed he'd wanted her to give a different answer.

“We just need a minute,” the plainclothes guy said to Nick.

Who in the hell was he? He wore a badge on a lanyard around his neck. Another marshal maybe? The machine that monitored Livy's vitals beeped with her increased pulse.

“Later,” Nick said from between clenched teeth.

“No,” Livy said softly. There was no point in putting it off. Worrying and wondering about her fate would only prolong the torture. She'd been prepared to face the consequences. Might as well rip the off the Band-Aid. “It's okay, Nick. I want to talk to them.”

The county sheriff remained silent. The guy Livy assumed might be another marshal cut Nick a look. “You can wait outside, Deputy. This won't take long.”

Nick turned to face Livy, his jaw set stubbornly. “I'm right outside,” he said. “I'm not going
anywhere
.”

Livy gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. He reached out, took her hand in his, and gave it a light squeeze. When he let go, cold seeped into Livy's skin and she shuddered. He didn't even exchange a glance with the other men in the room as he stalked toward the door and left.

A quiet moment followed and Livy wished she hadn't been so damned confident about being left alone with these guys. Intimidating didn't even begin to describe the man who'd taken point. He regarded Livy as though already working some sort of lie detector mojo on her. Well, she hated to disappoint him but she was through with telling lies.

“I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Ethan Morgan.” His crisp, all-business tone didn't do much to put Livy at ease. “I think we'd better have a talk about what happened last night, Livy. As well as what happened four years ago at your father's office.”

If he knew about her dad, Nick had obviously filled everyone in. Which meant that Deputy Morgan wanted her to corroborate Nick's story. He could try to catch her in a lie, but Livy had nothing but the truth to offer. “Sure.” Her mouth went dry and she tried to muster up enough saliva to talk. “But for the record, my name isn't Livy. It's Kari. Kari Barnes.”

Deputy Morgan's expression softened. Score a point for her! “Okay, Kari. Let's start at your dad's office, four years ago, and go from there. Sound good?”

She let out a slow sigh that loosened the tension in her chest. Another shock of cold caused her to shiver and she pulled the heated blanket up closer to her chin. She could do this. She could get through this. No matter what happened from here on out, she'd be okay. There was definitely something to that saying about the truth setting you free. All she'd given Morgan so far was her real name and already she felt lighter. “Can I get some water, please?”

Morgan gave a shallow nod of his head. The sheriff's deputy stepped up to the rolling tray beside her bed and poured a little water into a plastic cup. She took it from him with shaking hands and sipped. It wasn't the cold that caused the quaking in her limbs. Nothing was scarier than dropping the facade, it seemed.

Kari
. The name didn't even ring with familiarity anymore. She didn't want to be Kari. Didn't want to be that woman who'd seen her father die and, instead of helping to bring his murderer to justice, had run away.

Deputy Morgan waited patiently, but his gaze was focused and hard. He was used to dealing with people on the other side of the law and she was no different. Guilty until proven innocent, it seemed. Her stomach twisted into a knot as she reminded herself that even Nick had assumed she was guilty.

“Kari?” Deputy Morgan took a seat beside the bed. “Are you ready?”

He came across as a little less intimidating at eye level. His lips didn't so much as twitch, though. No hint of humor accented his hard features. Morgan was there for answers, and he wasn't leaving until he got them. He activated the voice record function on his phone and set it on the tray table beside her. Livy watched as the seconds ticked away, recording nothing but silence.

The faster she spilled her guts, the faster Nick would be allowed back into the room. They still had a lot to hash out, the least of it being her confession of love before she'd passed out face-first in a snowbank.

She'd put out one fire at a time. Hell, she'd already been beaten, nearly frozen to death, and almost shot. It couldn't possibly get worse, could it?

“A little over four years ago, I went looking for my dad,” she began. Deputy Morgan leaned forward in his chair, his attention focused solely on her. She took another sip of water. What she really wanted was a steaming mug of hot cocoa. “When I tracked him down, he was working as an accountant. After a few months, I found out that he'd been laundering money for a bunch of drug dealers, gangsters, and a couple of motorcycle gangs. That's how I know Joel Meecum. . . .”

An hour passed while Livy relived the worst four years of her entire life. She didn't shed a single tear, though. Her voice didn't so much as quaver. Every word spoken was one hundred percent the truth. The only part she omitted was the extent of her relationship with Nick. As far as she was concerned what had happened between them was nobody's damned business but theirs.

“There's nothing else?” Deputy Morgan asked. “Any detail you might have forgotten?”

“No.” Livy didn't think she could ever forget the details of her dad's death or how it came about. “That's all of it.”

“And you still have this ledger?”

That leather-bound book had ruined her life. “I do.” And she couldn't wait to get rid of it.

Deputy Morgan studied her. “Care to tell me where it is?”

No one had mentioned an arrest but Livy knew that it was too soon for him to slap the cuffs on her. It could be days—weeks—before they decided whether or not to press charges against her. If she gave them the ledger now, would it compromise any chance she had at freedom? Nick already knew it was hidden beneath the floorboards in her bedroom. He could turn it over to Deputy Morgan at any time. “Nick knows where it is,” she said quietly.

He gave her a shallow nod before retrieving his phone from the table and disabling the voice recording. “Thank you, Kari,” he said as he stood. “I'll be in touch soon.”

With his cryptic parting words, Deputy Morgan left the room with the county sheriff in his wake.

Anxious nerves churned in Livy's gut as she was left alone with her thoughts. Another chill shook her and she brought the mask to her face to breathe in more of the warm air they'd been pumping her full of.
Hypothermia. Jesus.

A swath of light cut across the floor as the door to her room glided open once again. Nick's shadowed form came into focus and Livy took another deep breath of warm, humid air before she tucked the mask beside her once again. Bruised, frozen, and exhausted, it wasn't exactly how she wanted him to see her. Especially when they still had so much to hash out.

His dark gaze devoured her and Livy's stomach shot up into her throat. Even as hurt as she still was by his assumption that she'd been Joel's partner, Livy couldn't help but admire him. Nick was certainly one of a kind.