Cover Me (33 page)

“Wade, I can’t believe it’s you.” She grabbed his arms and tugged. “You’re here.”

The raft lurched, nearly pitching her out, rolling water splashing her in the face. Her grip loosened, her legs sliding around on the rubber raft until she nearly tumbled into the churning ice below.

“Let go,” he ordered, “and back to the other side of the raft so I can bring myself in.”

If she got dumped into the water without an antiexposure suit it would be bad, beyond bad. Carefully, as if his life depended on it—and it did, since Sunny’s life was in the balance—he hefted himself into the raft. Her teeth chattering, she wrapped her arms tight around him.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he said, more to reassure himself than her, wanting to hang on, rooted in the knowledge that she was alive and whole.

But with regret, he pried her off him. He needed to get her covered.

He unstrapped the survival gear from his back and whipped free the Thinsulate blanket.

He held it open just as she fell into his arms. He wrapped her and he gathered her to his chest, against his pounding heart.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cable from the chopper lowering Franco into the boat. Franco would search while they raised Sunny back up into the helicopter in a metal basket.

He would have to let Sunny go, and that was going to damn near rip his heart out when he’d only just got her back, but Franco might need his help.

“Sunny?” He squeezed her gently. “How many people are still in the boat?”

“One man alive, stabbed and t-t-tied up,” she chattered. “T-two dead, he shot them. He shot Astrid and Ryker.” Her hazel eyes turned murky and haunted. “Their bodies are both in the water.”

He ticked through his memories of the people in her community. Ryker was Flynn’s

brother. Astrid was her brother’s wife. Innocent victims, or had they been caught up in the bomber’s plan? They must have been, given how unlikely it was for anyone in that community to be here. Now.

What the hell had she been though? “Are you hurt? Do you need medical attention?”

He picked up her hand where he saw blood on it. No wound. Just a long streak up her arm. Under her nails. Dear God, she’d been the one to do the stabbing. He placed his fingers on her wrist to measure her heart rate.

“N-not hurt,” she murmured through her chattering teeth. “J-just possibly going into shock.”

She blinked up at him, eyes wide. And wasn’t that just like her to assess her situation with a cool head even as her pulse slowed, her skin frighteningly pale? But she would be okay.

He kissed the top of her head, where icicles formed in her hair.

Sunny burrowed closer, tighter, and he braced his back for a swell to keep the water off her while he waited for the helicopter to return with the basket. Until then, Sunny would be safe with him.

“J-just don’t let go.” She shivered against him. “Please God, don’t ever let me go.”

That was a request he intended to honor with every fiber of his being.

***

With Flynn standing tall beside her, Misty stared up at the landing helicopter, almost afraid to hope what Lasky had told her could be true. That Sunny was safe, inside that descending military chopper.

Wind from the rotors stirred up a swirling snowstorm as the MH-60 landed in the parking lot. With her sister inside. The pilot had called in the successful rescue to Agent Lasky, but Misty wouldn’t be able to breathe freely until she saw Sunny with her own eyes.

What a difference an hour could make. Her sister had been saved. The bomb had been defused. And the power plant had been declared clear.

Now the authorities would be turning their attention to questioning Brett Livingston, once he got his gut stitched up from the stab wound Sunny inflicted. And they would work to locate and retrieve Astrid and Ryker’s bodies. She slid her hand into Flynn’s. His face was stoic. But she knew him well enough to sense he was shell-shocked and hurting underneath. Her heart ached for him.

The helicopter finally touched down and ground crews rushed forward just as the hatch opened. Wade Rocha leaped to the ground, sure-footed, then held out a hand. Sunny stepped into view in the open portal. Alive. Her sister was really alive and appeared unharmed, as best she could tell from the blanket that swaddled her.

With Wade’s help, Sunny stepped out onto the pavement, her steps slow and shaky as she searched the crowd. The second her eyes landed on Misty, she smiled, trying to move faster, but her ordeal had obviously taken a toll. Misty sprinted to her, wrapping her sister in a hug so tight it was almost painful, but she couldn’t bring herself to let go. She’d been so terrified, so scared she wouldn’t find help in time, second-guessing herself the whole way.

Sunny eased back, tears streaking into her smile. Her hands raised.
“Thank you. Thank
you.”

“I’m sure someone else could have done something more.”

“You were the completely perfect person I needed at the right time.”

And Misty realized it was true. Her signing, her heightened sense of nuances in facial expressions had served her—had served Sunny—well. For the first time in four years, she felt strong.

Wade slid an arm around Sunny’s shoulders. “We really need to get you checked out by the doctor.”

Misty nodded too. “Go, really. We’ll have plenty of time later. A lifetime.”

“Okay,” Sunny agreed. “Just one more thing.” She hugged Flynn, squeezing hard.

Sunny’s mouth was moving but Misty couldn’t catch what she was saying. Likely it had to do with Ryker’s last moments. And then Wade was hooking his arm around Sunny, pointing to one of the EMT trucks. Even her indomitable sister needed to be reminded she was mortal. It appeared Sunny had found a person strong enough to stand with her—and up to her—in Wade Rocha.

Misty turned to her own man, one she’d loved for years and had finally found a path back to. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”

He stared out over the bay, snowflakes catching on his blond hair he stood still so long.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see what he was into. I’m sorry he wasted his life. And I’m sorry about how this is going to break our father’s heart.”

“Your dad will get comfort from having you near.” She dusted the snow away and

wished it could be as easy to ease the burdens on his heart.

Flynn looked down at her, the full power of his pain showing through. “Or will looking at me remind him of my brother? God knows, I’m not sure I’m ready to look in the mirror yet.

Even Sunny thought he was me out there.”

“But I know who you are.” She stroked the side of his face. “I knew then.”

Turning into her hand, he kissed her palm, lingering long enough for her to know he took comfort from her touch. Anything more overt out here in public wasn’t possible, but there was an unmistakable connection in the moment. An unmistakable connection between them.

A sigh shuddered through him and he tore his eyes away from the harbor. He looped an arm around her shoulders and steered her back toward the heated RVs set up for questioning and waiting. Not fancy, but definitely warmer. And there was just something scary about going into the power plant, even if it had just been given the all clear.

Sighing, she tucked against Flynn’s side, his arm solid and familiar. “What should we do now?”

With ease, he positioned his face so she would see his mouth even as they stayed side by side. “I need to tell my parents about Ryker, and I would like for you to come with me.” He guided her past a fire truck that had blessedly been unneeded after all. “But after that, I want us to go to Anchorage so you can have the surgery. I want to be there with you.”

His plan seemed so perfect it broke her heart that they couldn’t have figured it all out sooner. “That’s not possible now. So much of the logistics depended on staying with Ted and Madison.” So many deaths, so much grief to be spread out in such a tiny community. “How can I complain about a missed appointment with the specialist when they lost their lives?”

He gripped both her shoulders and turned her to him just outside the nearest RV, their last chance for privacy for what could be many hours of intense questioning. “And they would want you to go after life and grab it with both hands, whatever it is that you want.”

For the first time today, she let herself voice the fears that had been hammering around inside her brain. “What if the doctor who agreed to take my case pro bono won’t do that anymore once all the scandal of our village hits the paper? What if he wasn’t even real, just another lie pumped through our compromised Internet?”

“Then we’ll find a real doctor, one willing to do the procedure.” The determination and honesty on his face all but vibrated the air between them. “I can drive a snowplow anywhere with snow, and while I won’t ever be a rich man, I will do work until my last breath to give you what you need. I will stand by you every step of the way until we figure out how to make that surgery happen.”

“You would do that for me? Leave the only home you’ve ever known?” She’d seen the claustrophobia close in on him when they’d been stuck in the room with Agent Lasky. She could see the homesickness in his eyes when he’d stared out over the bay. And yet she saw none of that now.

“I’ve thought every day for four years that I would do anything in my power to be with you again. Being with you
is
home for me. In case you haven’t noticed, Misty, I love you.”

“I do know. And I hope you know I love you too.”

The reality, the honesty of that emotion between them was so strong, she could hear it
singing
through her veins.

***

Twenty-four hours later, Sunny stretched out on the bear rug in front of Wade’s fireplace in Anchorage. The fur tickled the backs of her legs peeking out of the oversized T-shirt she’d borrowed from him. “I’m really going to have to invest in some clothing of my own.”

“But you look so smoking-hot in mine.”

“And you look so damn adorable hugging my dog.”

Wade stoked the fire with one hand, his other arm hooked around Chewie. Bare chested and wearing only low-slung sweatpants, he sent her pulse racing again even though they’d already made love twice since reaching his apartment.

The past twenty-four hours had passed at a frenetic pace. Brett Livingston was in police custody at the hospital. He’d survived surgery and faced a lifetime in prison for the murders and the bombing attempt.

If not more.

She’d told the police about Brett’s “insurance” plan in his briefcase, and they were sending electronic divers down in an attempt to retrieve it from the boat. She couldn’t even begin to fathom what it might contain, what could possibly be worse than had already happened. But at least she could know the authorities weren’t in the dark any longer.

Still no word from Phoenix, and she was beginning to wonder if maybe he had run after all. The thought that he would actually abandon his wife and child was more than she could wrap her brain around, but she still had to hope he was alive out there somewhere. Thankfully, her nephew was safe with Astrid’s parents.

At least she knew her sister was happy, already making plans with Flynn. The two of them had accepted the helicopter ride back up the mountain to be with Flynn’s parents right now.

And Misty wanted to stay near their nephew until the police officially cleared everyone in the village—or made any necessary arrests. What kind of legacy was that to leave a child? A criminal for a mother and a father who ran? Her chest grew tight with regrets.

Wade replaced the poker and stroked back her hair, still damp from the shower they’d shared. “I can arrange for a flight home for you, if you’ve changed your mind.”

She shook her head, certain in her decision to stay right where she was. Working things out with Wade. “I want to be here with you, for as long as we can be together before you have to leave. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought that’s what you wanted too.”

Especially after the way he’d held her so fiercely in the life raft and how tenderly he’d made love to her.

“Can you tell me you aren’t having regrets about not going back home with your sister?”

“I have regrets about what happened, about not picking up on the signs. It’s become clear to me in a hundred different ways how cutting ourselves off has left us open and vulnerable. The place I knew as home isn’t going to exist anymore after this.”

“I’m so damn sorry for that.” He tugged her to his chest and she leaned into him, the steady thump of his heart under her such a welcome sound she’d feared never hearing again.

Chewie nosed her knee insistently, shuffling into the circle with determined garbled noises until she couldn’t help but laugh. God, it felt good after the horror of the past days. “I haven’t forgotten about you, Chewie. Not for a second.”

Her dog was recovering well from his pulled tendon, thank goodness, and should be back up to speed in another couple of weeks. Burying her fingers into his thick fur, she collided with Wade’s hands right there alongside hers.

Wade grinned. “What can I say? I’m getting attached to your dog.”

“Oh really?” she teased back, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief because she and Chewie were pretty much a package deal. “I haven’t had time to think through all the details about where I want to live yet, but I do need to be with my sister to help see her through her surgery. I should have known that at the start.”

“So you are willing to move.” His fingers linked with hers in the husky mutt’s thick pelt.

“For Misty.”

“For Misty, yes, but for me too.” And for Wade, if this relationship was going where she thought, where she
hoped
it was going. “My skills as a guide and workout trainer can be used just about wherever I go, so while I may not own the place, at least I would have a marketable job history. A small town would probably suit me best, some kind of rural community.”

One with mom-and-pop diners, rustic B and Bs, and wood-burning fireplaces crackling a hand’s reach away. Most of all, one with wildernesses to explore.

“Alaska has plenty of those,” he agreed. “And what if once I return, I wanted you to come where I’ll be? What if I could find a nice rural town nearby?”