Jackson (The Love Family Series Book 8) (9 page)

Chapter 10

Mr. Marsh made small talk in the limo and on the plane, no matter how she tried to push the issue to figure out what he wanted to know. He was a pro at avoiding questions. “Where are you taking me?”

“To the hub of the problem, of course. I want to show you firsthand what her research entails to give you peace of mind that she isn’t deliberately harming anyone so that we can solve that issue once and for all.”

Great, she was a sheep being led into the lion’s den.

“No harm will come to you,” he said, reading her mind.

“And the questions you want me to answer?”

Mr. Marsh’s lips twitched. “In due time, Ms. Denton.”

Scarlett had a hard time relaxing on the plane, or in the car, on the way to the facility. Once they arrived, the butterflies in her stomach were in full fight mode and swarming to escape. They’d given her a tour of the entire facility, including the areas off-limits to the other staff. Scarlett’s mind eased. Unsupervised interviews with some patients about their treatment helped.

A few had even shown her what they were capable of doing. One levitated objects in the room. Another conjured objects into appearing. Others had dangerous gifts, and she could see how they might be scared enough to sign up. She had met a fire starter who had burned down her house and almost killed her children. The need to control her ability was evident. This place was the only one in existence that knew about the abilities and was trying to help those who needed it most. Scarlett’s stomach clenched hearing some of their stories. Her heart ached trying to fathom what they’d been through. She had spent hours getting to know these people and listening to Regina’s explanation about the serum that she had designed. These people had no voice. They had no way of even knowing there were others like themselves, much less where to turn when they needed help.

Marsh had scout teams on the lookout for anything strange or unusual in the news. When they found someone they thought might be gifted, they approached the special person and gave them information on the clinic, leaving it their choice whether or not to join in the research.

Later, when she was seated in the limo with Mr. Marsh, he seemed much more relaxed than he’d been in the conference room earlier that morning. The fine lines around his eyes softened some.

“Are you going to tell me what answers you're looking for now?”

Mr. Marsh handed her a water bottle and took one himself after shedding his suit jacket and loosening his tie. “Are you convinced that I’m not the monster you thought I was?”

“Talking to the patients convinced me.”

“Good. The reason I brought you here was two-fold. I don’t need any answers from you, Ms. Denton. I need your help. Well….the world needs your help.”

“I don’t understand.” The water she was drinking felt as though it had turned to stone in her stomach. “You’ve played a key role in society by telling true-life stories. Those people you met are only a few that found us, and some of them really needed our help, as you can guess. Can you imagine how many more need us that you haven’t met? Your friends, your neighbors, and runaway teens that feel alone, like they don’t fit in. You can be their advocate, their voice, and our voice.”

“Excuse me?” she asked and recapped her bottle. “In plain English, please.”

“I want you to write a true-life book, without using names of course, about people like you’ve met today so that others can sympathize with their problems and causes. The world needs to know that these people are human and not monsters. I need you to open the door to the possibility that they do exist and let them know there is help for those who need it.”

Scarlett gave a slow nod. “You want me to commit career suicide. No one is going to believe me. Not without proof.”

“I’m asking you to offer hope where there is none. People living with abilities won’t need proof.”

She leaned forward. “You do realize that, if we’re to do this, the public would assume that I’m friends with these people. They’ll automatically assume that they’re the ones closest to me. Why would I do that? I came with you to keep the Loves out of danger, not to have them bombarded by myth-busters and curious onlookers. That’s ludicrous.”

“Had I read a story like yours when I was younger, I wouldn’t have been so scared knowing I had options besides living with an abusive father who considered me a monster. I spent years, through sure willpower and determination, putting myself in a position to buy out his company from underneath him, just to get him to stop with his mistreatment. I’ve spent millions on research, but it’s all pointless if I can’t help those who need it most.”

He sat back and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Regardless of your answer, I made a promise to you, and I fully intend to keep it.” He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. “It’s Marsh. Call off your hit squad. Ms. Denton is not a threat to exposing your sister or the help she’s trying to give.”

He nodded, and although Scarlett couldn’t hear the words, she knew he’d gotten the answer he was looking for when he hung up. “I apologize for your experience and what you’ve endured.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to Agent McIntire’s family. They killed her.”

“They believed she was selling secrets and had turned into a double agent. They’d merely shown up to question her and take back the evidence she’d stolen. They believed that you were purchasing the information. I was also informed that the agent who shot her has been removed from active duty pending investigation.”   

“Good,” she said. “He did more than kill Rosie. He should be held accountable for what he did.”

Scarlett had an opportunity to make things right, but it meant possibly losing the only people she cared about in the process. There was no way she could subject them to the crazy life guaranteed after writing that type of book.

“Since it’s so late, tonight we’re staying at the local five-star hotel, where we’ll dine, and in the morning, I’ll return you to the Island. I’d like to ensure that word has made it back to the agents who were chasing you before I return you home.”

She nodded and turned her gaze to the window, trying to process the thoughts and emotions coursing through her body. She could help so many. She could at least touch the lives of those who needed to hear there were others in the world like them, but at what cost? Her happiness, Jackson’s, her best friend’s? She’d have to leave them so they wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

She closed her eyes against the darkness outside and leaned back in the plush leather seat. There was no easy answer for her. No easy way to decide. Her love versus helping humanity. Could she be that selfish to want both? To need both?

Scarlett stepped out of the limo, and Mr. Marsh and she were greeted at the doors by men in suits. They rode up the elevator to the top floor of suites, where she followed Mr. Marsh inside.

“Of course, you’ll have your own room. When you were talking to some of the patients, I took the liberty of having the local boutique send over some clothes for you since I didn’t give you the option to pack your own things. I apologize for that. They are holding the restaurant open for us, so whenever you’re ready we can eat. It is black tie, and you should have a dress amongst your new things.”

She nodded and headed into the room to freshen up and change into one of the black gowns they’d sent over. Three different sizes of shoes matched. One pair was her size.  Mr. Marsh was waiting for her when she stepped out of the room. He had on a tailored suit and was drinking scotch while he waited.

He rose and smiled. “You look lovely. I hope everything fit okay.”

“It’s fine.” She gave him a smile.

Mr. Marsh held out his arm for her to take so he could escort her like a gentleman. Touching him felt odd and inappropriate, but she pushed the thoughts aside. He knew she loved Jackson. That was how he’d persuaded her to come.

“You’re correct,” Mr. Marsh answered. “I am well aware of your affection for Mr. Love and promise to be a gentleman while in your company.”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him. Mr. Marsh was a good-looking man. He exuded poise and grace, and he seemed to genuinely care about the people at the facility. If he’d wanted a date, women would have been swarming around him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, answering her thoughts.

“You need to stop doing that. It’s rude,” she chided him as they headed off the elevator and into the lobby. The hotel restaurant was empty except for a few staff personnel.

“I’m sorry. It’s a force of habit.”

“I’ll bet it helps in your line of business.”

“Not much surprises me, but you.”

“Pardon?” she asked, sitting in the chair he held out for her.

“In the conference room. I was a bit surprised by all you had found out and how you were willing to confront me. It takes guts to do what you did, but I understand why you did it. You’d do anything for the Loves. That’s what makes you special and unique.”

“Why me? I know a thousand authors who would kill to have this chance to write a true-life story of what you’ve shown me. Why not one of them?” 

The manager appeared at their table. He greeted them with a sincere smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Marsh.”

“Thanks, Gerald. We’ll need a few minutes for Ms. Denton to look over the menu. Could you bring us a bottle of wine?”

“Of course,” he answered with a polite nod before walking away.

Scarlett had opened her menu and was glancing at the list.

“I wouldn’t trust just anyone to write this story. Agent McIntire trusted you because of your association with the Loves, and I do too. Your love and caring for the Loves is evident, and I’m hoping you’ll feel the same way about the people in the facility. You’ve proved yourself.”

“And here I thought it was because of my writing talent.” She chuckled and glanced up.

Marshall placed his hand over hers. “You do have amazing talent, Scarlett. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you could handle the job.”

“Sir…we’re closed.” A man spoke near the entrance.

Scarlett glanced in that direction, and the smile she’d had slipped. Jackson stood at the threshold in wrinkled clothes and wearing a menacing scowl. The helicopter pilot was nowhere to be seen.

“Jackson.” She tossed her napkin on the plate and rose.

“I was worried.” He gestured to the table. “I can see now it was unfounded.” He spun around and disappeared out the door.

Scarlett jogged after him and into the parking lot. She spun in circles, trying to figure out which way he had gone.

A gloved hand snaked out, covering her mouth with a rag. The smell was sweet and medicinal. Her body collided against a big broad chest. The arms holding her were strong. She kicked and struggled to break free as the world around her spun. Her eyes and body turned heavy. Her last thought was of Jackson and how she’d never see him again.   

Chapter 11

Jackson sat in his rental car. His rubbed at his clenching heart. Scarlett had been smiling, laughing, and Marsh had been touching her. He shook his head, fighting the need to pummel the man in charge of the company screwing them over. If it weren’t for Marsh’s research, they wouldn’t be in this predicament.

He let out a deep sigh. Jackson was acting like a child who’d had his favorite toy stolen. He’d jumped to conclusions and walked away without giving her a chance to explain. That was no way to start their relationship. If she even still wanted to have one with him. She deserved better than that, and he knew it.

Jackson stepped out of the car and closed the door just as his phone buzzed. He answered on the first ring and barked, “What?”

“Are you with Scarlett?” his cousin, Flynn, asked.

This had better not be like the premonitions Flynn had of them at the hospital. “Just a few minutes ago, why?”

“Are you at the hotel?”

“Yeah, how did you—”

“She’s in danger.”

“I fucking knew it. Marsh, the no good son of a bitch, was playing her.” Jackson jogged back toward the entrance. Jackson ended the call and shoved it in his pocket as he stormed back into the restaurant, making a beeline to Marsh, who was still sitting at the table. “Where is she?” he demanded.

“You tell me.” Marsh rose. “She went after you.”

Marsh snapped his fingers, and three men in suits positioned strategically around the room were at his side in an instant. “You two, search for Ms. Denton. She’s possibly in trouble.” He glanced at the other. “You, check the security feed to find out which way she went and where she might be.”

Jackson grabbed Marsh’s suit lapels. The desire to knock the shit out of him weighed heavily on his chest. “You promised to keep her safe.”

“The FBI ensured me they were dropping the hunt. The director himself gave me his word. I kept her here just to make sure that his demands traveled down the line through his agents. I was returning her in the morning.”

“I’m connected to her. I’ll find her.” Jackson shoved Marsh and stepped back. He closed his eyes to target their connection and the invisible strings that would lead him to her location, just as he had when he found her at the hotel. “She couldn’t have gotten far.”

Jackson sorted through the strings of emotional connections, concentrating on the vibrant pink strand he associated with Scarlett. The line was moving farther away at a pace that told him she was in a vehicle. His eyes snapped open. “She’s in a car.”

Jackson turned, ran from the restaurant, and jumped into his rental. The passenger door opened before he could throw it into gear.

“Get out,” Jackson growled.

“I promised her safety, and you’re wasting time,” Marsh said and gestured toward the road. He pulled a gun from beneath his suit jacket and popped the cartridge as Jackson hit the gas, leaving a cloud of white smoke trailing behind them. “Are you armed?”

Jackson glanced at Marsh and rolled his eyes. “Of course I am. I thought I was going to have to save her from you.” Jackson swerved onto another road following the pink connection.

“You can see that she didn’t need saving,” Marsh said, shoving the gun back beneath his jacket.

“Yeah, you two looked like you were having a grand old time.”
The fucking bastard.

Marsh glanced in his direction. “Your jealously is unfounded, Jackson. She and I are working on a business arrangement, nothing more. I can assure you.”

What the hell kind of a business arrangement could they possibly have? She was an author.

“That’s not for me to say. You’ll have to ask her,” Marsh said.

“Get the hell out of my head,” Jackson growled as he swerved again. He slowed as he neared the end of the pink line. His gaze followed the direction until it stopped. “Unbelievable.”

“What?”

Jackson gestured to the alleyway. “Whoever has her brought her back to where McIntire was killed, and where Scarlett was hit by the car.”

“Are you telling me she’s in the alley?”

Jackson shook his head. “No.” He pointed across the street. “They’re in the parking garage.” 

****

Scarlett blinked her eyes open to find she was in the dark, and in a moving vehicle. She glanced around the dark space. The lack of oxygen made it difficult to breathe. Her hands scrambled around her to find tools. She beat on the top of the trunk. “Let me out,” she screamed, not sure if there was anyone around to hear her pleas. Her fingers found a tool and she traced the object with her fingertips. A tire iron. She sighed in relief and clutched it to her chest. Luck was definitely on her side. Whoever had kidnapped her had left her with a weapon at her fingertips. Clearly, whoever was responsible didn’t do this for a living.

Scarlett kicked off her heels as the car slowed. She would have to make a run for it, and those puppies, no matter how pretty, would slow her down. Her muscles tensed. She gripped the tire iron tighter while waiting for her captor to pop the trunk. She tried to ready herself as well as she could in the cramped space. The lid popped, and she didn’t pause to recognize her attacker. She sprang from the vehicle and swung the tire iron as hard as she could against his head.
Take that, you sick, sadistic ass.

Fritz, the FBI agent that Jackson knew, dropped to his knees, and Scarlett took off running. Scanning her surroundings, she saw she was in a parking garage and on the third floor. No easy escape. She skidded to a stop near the railing, and her heart sank. Beneath her was water. Her hands trembled as she ducked between two cars to catch her breath.

“There’s nowhere to run, you bitch. I’m going to end your life like you ended mine,” Fritz screamed.

Scarlett’s heart raced; she was afraid to move. Afraid not to move. She didn’t know what the hell to do. The sound of a car engine gave her hope that maybe someone would save her.

****

Jackson drove to the entrance of the third floor and parked the car. Jackson had dropped Marsh off on the first floor to start on the bottom while he started at the top. The goal was to meet in the middle. She was here somewhere, and Jackson was determined to find her. His grip on the gun tightened as he held it pointed in front of him with his finger on the trigger. Even with years of being out of the game, he was still trained to deal with anything that was thrown his way. He glanced around the cars. The floor was empty except for parked cars. There was no sign of her or who had taken her. Jackson had started walking toward the railing, simultaneously making a check between all the cars, when he felt the butt of a gun pressed against his head.

“Drop it,” Fritz growled.

“Where’s Scarlett? What did you do to her?” Jackson demanded as Fritz plucked Jackson’s gun from his grip and tossed it away.

“Nothing yet. You got here just in time to watch her die.” Fritz cocked the trigger. “Scarlett, I’m giving you to the count of five to come out before I shoot your boyfriend in the head.”

Jackson’s heart raced as he glanced around the structure. “Don’t do it, Scar.”

“One…two…three…”

Scarlett stepped out from between the cars where she had been hiding. The railing was pressed to her back. “I’m here.” She had a tire iron in her hands and dropped it. “Please, don’t shoot him.”

“Why are you doing this, Fritz? The hit was called off.”

“I wouldn’t fucking know. I’m suspended because of killing that little bitch. The asshole never told me to bring her in alive.” Fritz spun the gun around and shot in Scarlett’s direction. Her body flew over the railing.

“No…” Jackson screamed as a jolt of adrenaline rushed through his body. He slammed his elbow into Fritz’ gut just as another shot echoed off the concrete walls.

Fritz glanced down at this chest. Blood oozed from the hole in his shirt as he dropped to his knees. Jackson grabbed Fritz’ gun and tossed it away before he turned and ran toward where Scarlett had been standing. He glanced over the edge. His heart hammered against his ribs, noticing the water below.
Where are you, baby?
Her body wasn’t floating, nor was she on the nearby shore. 

“Call 911,” he screamed to Marsh as Jackson jumped up on the ledge and dove down into the icy water below. The impact of the freezing water stung his body. His chest tightened, making it difficult for him to breathe. He took a deep breath and dove under the water. Kicking with his arms and legs, he moved toward the dark mass below. He grabbed her beneath the arms and pulled her to the surface, using all the strength in his body as he maneuvered them both to the concrete ledge. He shoved her body up over his head until she rolled onto the concrete. He hefted himself out of the water and placed his finger to her neck. There was no pulse. Marsh came running out.

“She’s not breathing,” Jackson screamed while ripping off his shirt, he laid it over her wound before tilting her head. He laced his fingers, and started chest compressions.

“You are not dying on me,” he said between counts. He held her nose, blew breath into her mouth and started again. Fear gripped his soul when there was no response. He kept going. 

Come on, baby, don’t give up on me,
he screamed in his mind as he continued the compressions. This wasn’t happening. It was all his fault. She still would have been in the damn hotel with protection if he hadn’t shown up.
Please
…he pleaded in his mind and blew into her mouth again. The wail of the ambulance was getting closer.
Don’t die on me.
He laced his fingers and straightened his arms, about to press again when she coughed and water spewed from her lips. He turned her on her side as she continued to cough, expelling more water. When she was done, she rolled on her back and looked up at Jackson.

“You’re alive.” She smiled.

He grabbed her up in his arms and held on to her for dear life. “I am now.”

The first tear he had cried since his mother died slipped down his face. His emotions were too overwhelming to contain. “I thought I had lost you,” he whispered and kissed her hair.

Scarlett winced, and Jackson eased her back. She grabbed the bullet wound in her belly as paramedics rolled the gurney to a stop. “She quit breathing and has a bullet wound in her stomach.”

Jackson moved out of the way as two paramedics started checking her injuries before moving her to the gurney. The police lights were flashing as he followed Scarlett up the hill. One of the police officers stopped him. “Mr. Love. We’ve got some questions we need to ask you.”

“It’s going to have to wait,” he argued and kept walking. The police officer grabbed his arm, and it took every bit of restraint Jackson had not to knock the cop on his ass. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go,” Jackson growled.

“Sergeant Vickers. The Director of the FBI would like a word.” Marsh held out his phone and gestured for Jackson to get in the ambulance.