The McCullagh Inn in Maine (10 page)

The resounding click
of the striker was the only sound that filled the room, somehow managing to seem louder than an actual gunshot. I choked on a half laugh, half sob, because
of course
Richard had taken care of my only weapon. He wasn't about to be taken down by the same weapon, or person, twice.

He tugged on his tie to straighten it. “I wasn't sure if you had the balls to pull that trigger again, but you understand my hesitation to find out firsthand.”

“Go to hell. I should have known the devil couldn't be taken down by a bullet.”

He laughed, pressing a hand to his flat stomach. He looked so handsome standing there, laughing as if everything were normal. That had always been one of his best weapons. His good looks. He used them well. “I don't know whether to be insulted or flattered.”

“I don't care how you feel anymore.”

“Tell me, have you been having fun, playing house with that man? What's his name? Ah, yes, Agent Jeremy Holland.” When I stiffened, he locked eyes with me.

Shit. He knew Jeremy's name.

“Don't tell me you think I haven't been watching you with him. Kissing him. Fucking him. Letting him take what's mine.”

I stepped forward, muscles tight, fists even tighter. The second I took a step toward him, someone grabbed me from behind by both arms. Of course. Richard was too much of a coward to take me on alone. “I'm not yours. I stopped being yours the second I realized you were nothing but a scared little boy, kowtowing to the cartel so they didn't kill you. Tell me, did you agree to be their bitch before or after you took office? I'm dying to know.”

“You little—” He lifted his hand threateningly, the backs of the knuckles facing me, and I flinched reflexively. Being backhanded hurt more than being punched with a closed fist, and he knew it. “You have no idea what you're talking about.
I'm
the one with the power.
I'm
the one who controls them, not the other way around. Why do you think they're here with me, hunting down you and everyone you ever loved?”

I didn't flinch. Just stared him in the eye. “Luckily for you, you never fell in that category.”

He snorted. “You loved me. Did you get my flowers? I left the last ones on your bed as a reminder of who you belong to.”

Knowing he'd been in my room made my stomach turn hard. “Yeah. I got them. And I threw them in the trash,” I said from between clenched teeth.

Running his hand over his jaw, he eyed me, grinning like the calm maniac he was. “I admire your spunk. It's a shame you had to try to kill me. You would have made an excellent wife. But now I have to kill you because if you're not an asset, then you're a liability.”

“What makes you think my death will change anything? That I haven't already given the feds everything?”

“I have my ways.” He shrugged casually as he rolled up his shirtsleeves. He did it calmly and without emotion, even though we both knew what was coming. I'd found out firsthand how much he liked playing with his toys before breaking them. “And your lover won't be an issue.”

Cold fear struck my heart, sending a shaft of pain piercing through my chest. I knew better than to fall for that shit, but at the same time…this was Jeremy we were talking about. God, if he hurt him, it would be all my fault, and a world without Jeremy wasn't a world I wanted to be in. He might have lied to me and I might be pissed as hell at him, but I loved him with all my heart. And I wanted the chance to maybe forgive him someday, after a hell of a lot of groveling on his part.

I needed him to be okay.

“You're lying,” I said with a confidence I didn't feel.

He shrugged again, finishing up with his sleeve. The second it was perfectly in place above his elbows, he took a step in my direction. I jerked hard, trying to break free of my captor, knowing it was pointless to do so. I caught sight of Javi's profile over my shoulder and it was clear there'd be no escape.

“Jeremy will figure out where I hid everything. It's in the hiding place from when we were kids,” I said in a rush, lying through my teeth in a futile attempt to buy time. “You're too late.”

“We both know that's not true. Let's not diminish your spirit with useless lies and pleas for mercy. You're a fighter, Chelsea. We both enjoy that.”

I glared at him silently, heart pounding against my ribs.

“This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you, darling,” Richard said softly, his voice like warm butter spreading on fresh-baked bread. “But I need to teach you a lesson. By the time I'm done, you'll wish you never let another man touch what belonged to me. And maybe, if you're lucky, I won't kill you. Maybe I'll take you back, if you promise to never cheat on me again.”

The crazy thing was, he meant every word. Richard honestly thought I'd want to be with him, completely ignoring the fact I'd tried to kill him. How had my life gotten to this? How did I become prey to this bastard?

The abuse had started slowly. It had been emotional at first, delivered so craftily I didn't even notice it until it was too late. When that stopped working, he became violent. A push here, followed by an apology. A slap there, followed up with flowers and words of love.

That's when I'd started planning my escape. I'd rediscovered my strength when I came here, to this inn. When I'd pulled that trigger and put an end to the abuse.

I'd be
damned
if I lost that strength again.

“I doubt I'll go back to you,” I said sweetly. “After all, you're nothing but a spineless, wormy coward who has no idea what it's like to be a real man. Jeremy knows how to treat a woman, and he knows how to be a man, so I'd never regret being with him. Only you. I wish I never let you touch me, and I wish you had died when I shot you.”

Finally, for the first time ever, he lost his cool. Anger flushed his cheeks, his upper lip curled, and he growled. Hauling his fist back, he let it fly, and pain burst in my skull, making me crumble in Javi's arms. Stars exploded into my vision.

“Drop her,” Richard said.

Javi obeyed immediately, and I hit the floor hard, banging my head. Suddenly, Richard was on top of me. “Take it back.”

Unable to speak, I did the one thing I knew would piss him off, because, God, I wanted to get under his skin…I laughed, spitting out blood with the sound.

Right in his face.

An animalistic sound escaped him, and his eyes bulged in rage as he stared down at me, unable to believe I'd disobeyed him. He lifted his hand and slapped me with his knuckles. I weakly pushed at his shoulders, but Javi pinned down my arms before I could get any leverage. I let out a loud scream, my one last attempt at freedom, but then his hand was on my throat, cutting off my air supply, and I knew with a sinking clarity that this was it.

And then the blackness took over.

Jeremy was steps
from the front door of the inn when he heard it. A fall leaf crunched behind him, and a soft breath was released. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and every instinct he'd ever trusted told him danger approached. He dropped the chandelier to the ground with a crash and spun with his gun drawn.

The man creeping up behind him froze for a split second, which is the only reason Jeremy didn't end up with a bullet in his brain. Unlike the other man, he didn't hesitate—his finger squeezed the trigger and the guy went down with a hit to his chest. Jeremy stared at him. It didn't take a genius to figure out the man was in the cartels.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Fueller? You out there?”

There was no answer from the agent on duty. Jeremy scanned the trees as he picked up the dead man's gun and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. Finally he saw Fueller. He was on his back in the shadows, blood congealing on the ground from a bullet wound to the head. Cursing, Jeremy made a phone call to request backup and then wasted no time approaching the inn on light feet. Knowing Chelsea might be inside made him want to run up the stairs screaming her name, but that wouldn't do either of them any good.

His pulse pounded. He should have come earlier, damn it, but he'd been trying to give her some time to cool off. She had every right to be angry, but he knew he had to get past that anger and find a way to make her see he hadn't been lying to her about everything. He did love her, and he had no intention of giving up on her…again.

After a few more steps, he was in the foyer. The door was ajar, and he scanned the interior for any signs of intrusion. The table drawer by the door was open, and Chelsea's gun was gone. The second he stepped into the living room, he saw another cartel foot soldier. He stood guard over the kitchen, watching the back door.

Well, that was a good sign.

It meant he was counting on the dead guy out front to stop anyone from coming in, and he was watching the back. Hopefully, there would be no one else to contend with. Tucking his gun away, Jeremy crept up and locked his arm around the man's throat, taking him down effectively and silently. The asshole struggled for a good five seconds, arms flailing, but it was a useless fight. Jeremy wasn't letting go till he was unconscious or dead.

Either one worked for him.

The second he went limp, Jeremy lowered him to the floor. At the same time, Chelsea let out a scream. He bolted up the stairs, not bothering to be quiet anymore, not even debating whether or not to wait for his backup, skidding into her bedroom with his gun aimed for anything that wasn't
her
. He'd seen a lot of messed-up shit during his time as a DEA agent, but the sight that met his eyes was horrifying.

Something he would
never
forget.

Chelsea was on the floor, and someone was on top of her, choking her. She struggled against her assailant, but her movements were slowing. Another knelt at her head, holding her shoulders down as the other man attacked her viciously. The amount of rage that slammed into Jeremy was unreal, and he saw red.

Literally. Blood
red
.

He recognized Javi as the man holding her down. Javi glanced up, spotting him, and cursed. Releasing Chelsea's shoulders, he pulled out a gun and took aim. Jeremy did the same. He didn't hesitate or think like an agent in that moment. He just pulled the goddamn trigger and took the asshole down.

Javi was hit between the eyes, but not before he could squeeze off a shot. Jeremy staggered back, pain ripping through his body, but he didn't take a second to recover. He didn't have time. He turned to Chelsea, who was struggling under her attacker with renewed fervor, and when he glanced at him…

Richard wasn't dead.

This changed everything. If they managed to take him down without killing him, Chelsea would be a free woman. Richard would probably do anything to save his own skin and they could use his testimony to replace whatever evidence Chelsea had. This whole thing could be over.

Chelsea punched Richard in the face with an impressive upper-cut, and the asshole reared back, blood spurting out of his nose. She squirmed out of his arms, struggling to reach the gun lying on the floor. Richard grabbed his nose, cursing. “I'll kill you, you little bitch.”

“DEA, asshole. Don't move,” Jeremy said, aiming at Richard, who'd been was so focused on hurting Chelsea that he'd ignored the gunplay three feet away. “One move and you're a dead man.”

Richard froze, watching him carefully, his gaze finally leaving Chelsea. He seethed with a cold, calculated rage. “You're a federal agent. I'm unarmed. You can't just shoot me.”

“Try me.” His finger flexed on the trigger. “Chels, are you okay?”

“Yes,” she croaked. She cocked the gun in her hand and Jeremy stiffened. “But
he
won't be.”

Jeremy tore his eyes off the man and stared at Chelsea.

“Go ahead,” Richard taunted, holding his arms to his sides. “Shoot an unarmed man. That one's actually loaded.”

She stood up on unsteady feet, swaying, and pointed the gun at Richard. Blood trickled out her nose and from the corner of her split lip, and bruises were already forming around her neck. Her eyes held a light that warned that she was close to the edge and not thinking clearly. He'd seen that look in plenty of people's eyes before. She was going to take any chance at freedom she had, and nothing he said was going to stop her.

Downstairs, men came into the house, calling out to one another that it was clear. His backup was here, just in time to witness this. If Chelsea killed Richard now, no amount of maneuvering on Jeremy's part would save her.

Richard was just
staring at me with that goddamn cocky smirk, kneeling on the floor with my blood smeared on his knuckles, so sure I wouldn't do it. That I wouldn't put an end to his pathetic excuse of a life. Right now, there was nothing I wanted more in this life than to end his. Murder hadn't been part of my original plan, but Dad always said that you had to be ready to improvise.

If I didn't kill him now, what would stop him from coming back in a year, or five, or ten, to finish what he'd started? No. Never again.

I tightened my finger on the trigger.

“No!” Jeremy shouted out, holding a hand in front of him as he approached slowly. “DEA is here, right downstairs. If you pull that trigger, you'll go to jail, Chels. Your immunity agreement won't save you. Your hands are clean right now. You didn't kill him before, and you don't have to kill him now.”

I didn't ease up, and my eyes burned with the force of the tears I held back. Angry tears that screamed to be released. Tears I'd been holding back for longer than I could remember. “I don't care. He'll be dead. That's all that matters.”

“That's not all that matters. There's the inn. And there's…” He tucked his gun away, waving off the men standing behind me. Clearly they were standing there ready to take Richard away—or take me down. “There's me. I love you, Chels.”

I swallowed hard. “Don't lie to me again, Agent Holland.”

“I'm not,” he said slowly. “I'm telling the truth. Yes, I lied to you about my occupation. Yes, you have every right to be angry at me and to hate me, but damn it, Chels, give me a chance to earn your forgiveness. I'll never stop trying, and I'll never stop knocking on your door, asking you to let me in. But if you're in jail…we don't stand a chance in hell in making this thing we have between us work.

“He wants you to kill him because it keeps him from retribution from the cartel, and it ruins your life. It's a win-win for him,” Jeremy said in a rush. He stepped closer, putting himself between me and Richard but not moving to take the gun from me. Blood soaked his shirt at the shoulder. I stared at the spot, watching the red spread across his blue shirt. “Don't give him that satisfaction. Don't give him what he wants.”

My grip on the gun wavered, and I sensed men creeping closer behind me, waiting to take me down if I didn't give up the gun soon. I had a feeling the only reason they hadn't yet was because of Jeremy. “But he'll come back if I don't kill him. Just like he did this time.”

“No, he won't. He's going to jail.”

I heard the words he said, but I didn't have much faith in the criminal justice system to keep him there. I'd seen too much to believe that it would all be okay.

“He's still alive, Chels. If you keep him that way, you're free.” Jeremy held his hands up, locking eyes with me, looking a little ashen. “You can rebuild the inn. You can be here, like you wanted, with a new life. And I'll be here with you, helping. I swear to God, I will be here.”

I bit my lip, swaying slightly. “Don't think you're off the hook. You lied to me. I'm still pissed at you.”

“I know. I swear, I'll make it up to you. Every second of every day, I'll make it up to you.” He shot a nervous look behind me. “Just put the gun down.”