Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2) (21 page)

“Bitch!” Dead Eyes balled his hand into a fist and
pulled his arm back, ready to swing at her, but Cry Baby grabbed
his arm, stopping him.

“Knock her out and she can’t talk. We got to get
that money and get the fuck out of here.”

Jo moved her wrists slowly, carefully so they
wouldn’t notice. A little bit more and she could slip her hands
free.

“Go get Callahan,” Dead Eyes rasped.

Panic clogged Jo’s throat. She swallowed and took
calming breaths while her mind assessed options.

Cry Baby swaggered toward Franco. He was a foot away
from Franco’s inert body when Franco rolled over, jumped up and
head-butted the guy in the stomach, sending them both
sprawling.

Jo’s hands weren’t freed yet, but she had no time.
She stood, still tied to the chair, and rushed Dead Eyes with a
head shot to his gut. He grunted and staggered backward. Working
feverishly, she freed her hands and threw off the chair.

Grunts and the thud of blows filled the room as
Franco and Cry Baby grappled on the floor.

Dead Eyes had regained his balance and pointed his
gun at Jo. “Stay right there, bitch. Call Callahan off or he gets a
bullet.”

“You won’t kill either of us. You need that money
too bad.”

“Try me.”

“I will.” She kicked the gun from his hand before he
could get off a shot. She almost smiled at the shocked look on his
face as the gun flew across the room. He made a dive for it and Jo
dove after him, knocking him sideways and kicking the gun out of
his reach. Holding onto her, he twisted and flipped her over. Her
head hit the floor, but the Oriental rug cushioned the blow. He
crouched over her and she kneed him in the groin. He yelped and
bucked, holding his crotch. She rolled away and jumped up. The gun!
Where the hell was it?

“Bitch! You’ll pay for that!”

“Come and get me.” Fighting for breath, she danced
around the stumbling Dead Eyes, kicking him in the ribs, then
dancing away before he could grab her. She needed time to get her
weapon. When she kicked him in the groin again, he doubled
over.

She spotted Dead Eye’s gun just before she noticed
Franco and Cry Baby caught in a macabre embrace, fighting over Cry
Baby’s weapon. Her heart lurched, but she couldn’t help Franco, not
until she dispatched Dead Eyes.

Head down, Dead Eyes charged her. She jumped as high
as she could and landed a kick to his throat. He squealed and
grabbed his neck, stumbling backward.

A gun went off. Jo’s pulse spiked. She glanced at
Franco. He’d wrestled the gun from Cry Baby. The thug sprang at
Franco and the gun flew out of Franco’s hand.

Dead Eyes charged her again. She went with the
motion, using his own momentum against him. Neatly, she sidestepped
him and gave him a shove into the nearest wall. He bounced off it
like a rubber ball and struggled to stay upright as she grabbed the
chair and swung it against his midsection. He roared but refused to
go down. Her fist connected to his face, his neck, his chest, over
and over until her knuckles were bloody. But like a wounded bull,
he just kept coming. She feinted to the left.

“Give up, you sonofabitch,” she snarled.

“Fuck you!” He shook his head and took a swing at
her face. She feinted to the right.

Dead Eye’s gun lay a few feet away. Jo dove for the
weapon. She heard Dead Eye’s footsteps close behind. He reached for
her waistband as she grabbed the gun, jerked free and
straightened.

Holding the gun, she pivoted to face him. He
pounced. She fired. She fired again.

Screaming and holding his kneecaps, he sank to the
floor.

Jo ran to Franco. He had the other guy down and was
sitting on top of him, his hands around the man’s throat. Cry Baby
struggled for air, trying to wrench away from Franco.

“I got this,” Jo said, pointing the gun at Cry Baby.
“It’s okay, Franco. Let him go.”

Franco released his hold and jumped off. “Get up
real slow,” she said to Cry Baby. “No funny moves or you’re
dead.”

She jerked her head toward Franco. “My gun is in the
hall. Get it and watch the other guy.”

He raced to her gun, grabbed it and ran back into
the living room. Dead Eyes was still screaming and swearing,
clutching his knees. Franco aimed the gun at him. “Give me one good
reason to shoot you again. Just one.”

Jo blinked and Dead Eyes quit swearing. There was no
mistaking that Franco meant it.

She nodded toward the nearest phone. “I need to call
the—”

The front door crashed open, cutting her short.
Uniformed cops, guns drawn, raced into the room. Detective Morelli
and Harris followed close behind.

***

“D
arlin’, I’m sorry,”
Harris said for the umpteenth time as he, Jo and Franco trudged
into Franco’s house. It was past midnight now. They’d spent hours
at the hospital having their wounds tended and giving statements to
the police. Harris followed Jo into the living room while Franco
closed what was left of the door. Jo saw Harris’s jaw tighten as he
paused, staring at the splintered molding surrounding the doorway.
The police had finished processing the crime scene, but with the
door broken, uniformed cops patrolled outside.

Jo strode to the middle of the living room, then
turned to face Harris. “Quit beating yourself up. It’s not your
fault. This was planned and they were desperate. There were four of
them and two of you.”

“I let my guard down. I know better than that. And I
let you down. You and Franco could have been killed.”

“Hey, man,” Franco said, coming into the room. “Jo’s
right. And if it weren’t for you and Jo, I’d be dead.” His
expression sobered. “You saved my life. Harris, you almost got
yourself killed too—knocked out, stuffed in a trunk, driven to the
river. You’ve been through a lot. We all have.”

Jo released a breath. “It’s over. And we’re all
still standing.” She looked at the broken door. “Can’t say the same
for your door. That thing’s been through a lot. You need a new
one.”

Franco nodded. “I’ll get a couple of my guys to put
in a new door before daylight.” He grinned. “I’ll have them put the
old back door in too and get rid of that ugly steel one.”

He held out his arms to her. “Come here.”

She went willingly into his embrace, needing his
closeness and comfort. He held her against him and rubbed his hand
up and down her back. “Thanks to you, we recovered the money too,”
Franco said. On their way to the hospital, Jo had told him about
the money and repeated the information to the police.

Keeping an arm around Franco’s waist, she turned to
Harris. “I can picture the looks on those guys’ faces when they
opened the trunk of their car and you jumped out. At least Dead
Eyes and Cry Baby will join DiGiacomo in jail along with the thugs
they hired to kill you.”

“Can’t keep an old SEAL like me down.”

“When those men said you were swimming with the
fishes, my heart nearly stopped.”

“I didn’t feel so good about it myself. I wasn’t in
the mood for swimming. When do you leave for Tucson?”

She jerked her head up at his sudden change of
topic. “I’m not sure,” she said, deliberately focusing on
Harris.

He smiled. “Well, it’s been good working with you,
as always, darlin’. But now I need to get home.” Digging a wrapped
piece of hard candy from his pocket, he headed to the door. He
unwrapped the candy and slid it into his mouth.

Smiling, Jo and Franco followed.

“Thanks for everything, man.” Franco held out his
hand to shake Harris’s. “I owe you. If you ever need anything, I’m
here.”

“Been a pleasure knowing you, Franco. You’re a good
man.” Harris turned to Jo and held out his arms.

She stepped into them and hugged him tight. “See you
soon.”

He hugged her, then held her at arm’s length. “Maybe
not. You’ve got a new teammate.” With a smile, he nodded at Franco.
“Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Franco said.

Jo frowned. What did Franco mean by that? She’d be
in Tucson while he’d be in Philadelphia. She’d take care of
herself—like always.

They said their goodbyes to Harris and walked back
to the living room.

“How about a drink?” Franco asked. “Some wine?”

Jo sank onto the sectional and shrugged. “Why not?
I’m not on duty anymore. And I’m too wound up to sleep.” She
glanced at the Oriental rug. “We need to clean the blood off the
rug. Dead Eyes made a huge mess.”

“I’ll send it out later to get cleaned. I’m not
worried about it. I can always get a new one. We’re okay and that’s
all that matters.”

Favoring her sore knuckles, she gingerly took the
glass of burgundy wine Franco offered. “I have to write my report
to Logan.”

Franco sat beside her. “You called Logan from the
hospital. The report can wait. You need to rest. We both do.
Unfortunately, I need to go to work tomorrow. I have a meeting I
can’t put off, but I’ll go in late.”

She sipped her wine, enjoying the slide of the rich
liquid down her throat. More of her tension dissolved with each sip
of her drink.

Franco cradled his wine glass between his hands, his
profile to her. “You were right all along. It had to do with Mac.”
He shook his head. “I think on some level, I knew the money the
thugs wanted involved Mac. I was in denial. Who would have thought
Mac hid it here? No wonder he was so smug when the authorities
arrested him.”

Jo set her glass on the table and touched Franco’s
chin, drawing his attention. “You can’t blame yourself for what Mac
did. Did he have a key?”

“Of course. He was my best friend. He’d stay in the
guest room sometimes when he’d had too much to drink.” Franco took
a long sip of wine, then set his glass next to hers. “I guess he
figured it was safe here. At least I can give the money back to the
kids.” He shook his head. “Mac didn’t figure on getting
killed.”

“But he did figure on coming back for the money. He
told the wrong people about it before he died.”

“And here I was, a sitting duck. Tell me something,
Jo.”

“What?” The intense look in Franco’s eyes made her
shift uncomfortably.

“When you found that money, didn’t you, even for a
little while, think I had something to do with the theft? That I
was in cahoots with Mac?”

She slid her gaze from his.

“Jo?”

“It crossed my mind for about a second,” she said,
turning back to him. “But the Franco Callahan I’ve come to know
couldn’t be that devious, and he wouldn’t lie to me. I just had to
figure out how the money was planted without you suspecting
anything.”

Relief washed over his face and his eyes softened.
“Thank you for that. I’m not sure anyone else would have had such
faith in me.” e cHHe took both her hands in his and kissed her sore
knuckles. “My poor Jo. Hurt because of me.”

“Occupational hazard.” She leaned forward and
planted a gentle kiss on his lips. “You’ve got to be careful for
the next few days. Getting hit with the butt of a gun isn’t good
for your head.”

“I have a hard head. I’ll be fine.” He blew out a
breath. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get to bed.”

<><><>

Sunlight teased Jo’s eyes open. The brightness in
the room told her the sun had fully risen. Once again she’d slept
in Franco’s arms. He lay on his side next to her this morning, one
arm across her waist, keeping her close. When they’d gone to bed,
both of them were too exhausted to do anything more than snuggle
together. She would like to sleep in his arms every night. But she
wouldn’t be another of his women, one of his toys.

She rolled over, shifting away from him, and winced.
Her whole body ached from her fight with Dead Eyes. She’d have some
major bruises. She slid her arms from under the comforter and held
up her battered hands. Her knuckles would heal quickly. They always
did.

“Morning,” Franco said. He took her in his arms and
kissed her. “How do you feel?”

“Sore as hell. How about you?”

He grimaced. “The same. We’re a pair, aren’t
we?”

They’d make a good pair in life too. She bit back
the words.

“I want you,” he whispered. “But I don’t want to
hurt you.”

She grazed a finger over his bottom lip. “I won’t
break.”

He threw back the covers, then rolled her onto her
back. His eyes, blue flames, trailed over her naked body, heating
her to her core. “You are an amazing and beautiful woman.”

“Make love to me.”

“With pleasure.”

He kissed her tenderly, carefully, then kissed his
way down her body with exquisite slowness until she writhed under
him. When he kissed the inside of her thighs and parted her folds
to slide his finger into her, she moaned softly. “You are so ready
for me,” he said, awe in his voice.

His mouth replaced his finger. She twisted her head
on the pillow and curled her fingers around the sheet, moaning when
he found her bud. Licks of fire spread through her body until she
was hot, restless, wild. Her breasts were tight and aching for
Franco’s touch. Like a volcano, her powerful climax erupted in
molten waves. Finally, she lay spent beneath him.

His breathing rough, he slipped away and opened his
night table drawer. When he’d pulled on protection, he positioned
himself above her.

“No,” she said. “I want to make love to you.”

Smiling, he rolled over and took her with him,
pulling her on top of him. She straddled him and ran her fingers
down his hardness. “You’re exquisite,” she breathed.

“I can’t wait much longer,” he said. “You feel so
good.” He brushed hair back from her face. “Jo, I …”

She lifted herself to accommodate his length and
took him fully into her. Groaning, he spanned her waist with his
hands and lifted her gently over his fullness, in and out. She
wondered what he’d begun to say, but the thought fled at the feel
of him sliding in and out of her willing body. A fierce, desperate
need filled her as he slid his hands up to cup her breasts. She
wanted to please him, to give him some measure of what he’d given
her. She threw back her head and moved over him, faster and faster.
Her hair brushed past her shoulders, the movement soft and sensual.
Franco’s low groans spurred her on. That she could satisfy this
strong, masculine man made her heart ready to burst with pride and
feminine power. She gloried in his strength and in the love she
felt for him. She cried out his name as her climax hit her hard and
fast. He shuddered with his own climax. They were one, and she was
complete at last.