Hold Me (25 page)

“Bitch. Whore.” He didn’t scream now, he hissed. Then he smiled, turned the gun slightly. “Say goodbye to Mama.”

“No!”

Katie shot him.

Frankie’s whole body jolted as the bullet plowed into him. Katie would never forget how he shuddered and twitched, how blood and other fluids slapped against the stark white wall. How half of his face was suddenly just…gone.

His body jerked, his gun fired, but the bullet went high. He fell back on the floor.

Frankie Silvano really was dead this time.

Deafened by the twin gunshots in the small room, Katie sat, shaking, the gun slipping from her limp hand, the acrid smell of gunpowder strong and stinging. Oh, God. Oh, God. She’d killed someone. Oh, God.

There wasn’t time to fall apart. They had to get out of here. They had to leave before Frankie’s henchmen came back or Liza woke up. She shook her head to clear it, turned to her mother, and struggled with the ropes that bound her to the chair.

Her mom was saying something, but Katie couldn’t hear her past the buzzing in her ears. The knots were small and tight and impossible to loosen, but she fought them doggedly until it occurred to her to look for a knife. The room was empty, no handy place where the bad guys might keep some tools. She looked at the two people sprawled on the floor, and swallowed hard against the bile that rose in her throat. Frankie had been a killer. Maybe he’d had a knife as well as a gun. God.

It was probably one of the most difficult things she’d ever had to do, but she made herself go to Frankie’s body. Made herself touch it, search it. She found a knife in an ankle sheath and scurried quickly back to her mother. The blade was sharp and she made short work of the ropes. Then her mother was free.

Katie’s hearing was coming back, so she heard her mom cry out when she gingerly brought her arms back around to the front of her body, rubbed them. Katie helped, massaging up and down her mother’s arms, feeling the cramped muscles held too long in one place. She realized she was crying, felt the moisture on her face, especially when her mother couldn’t choke back sobs of pain as the circulation returned.

Her mom took the bottom of her own T-shirt and stuffed it in her mouth to stifle screams as waves of agony crested, grew almost unbearable.

“Crap,” she gasped, spitting out the shirt after the worst had passed. “I knew that was going to happen. Too tight for too long.” Then she pulled Katie into a powerful hug and they clung to each other, shaking.

“Mom. Oh, Mom.”

“We have to get out of here,” her mother said. “Give me another minute, and I’ll try to stand up.”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault, honey. Whatever’s happening, it is not your fault.”

Katie’s laugh was watery. “Don’t count on that.” Her mind went to Luc. He was alone. He was being chased, she was sure of it. No way would Frankie have called off his men when he’d been summoned to this little room. Luc was too big a prize.

“Come on,” she said to her mother, trying to control her sense of urgency. “We have to go.” She’d get her to safety, and then she’d call David. He could send the police. He could help. Then she’d try to find Luc herself.

And Némes, she remembered belatedly. Némes too. But Luc first.

Katie helped her mother stand. She stretched, turned, then nodded.

“Better than expected. Guess all that time at the gym paid off. Let’s go.”

“I’m going to drop you off at the car,” Katie told her as they started to the door. “Then I have to go try to help Luc.”

“Who the heck is this Luc?” her mother demanded.

“It’s a—”

The door crashed open, and several police officers burst into the room. Justin Némes, gun drawn, head bleeding, face determined, staggered in after them.

“You,” he pointed at Katie, paused, shook back his wild hair and pointed at her again. “You’re okay?”

“Um, yes,” she said.

“Good. Now, don’t MOVE! Get it?”

“Got it,” she said because he looked more than a little crazed.

“Good!” He turned to Katie’s mother. “You’re the mother, right?” he asked. Her mom nodded, her eyes gleaming with silent amusement. “Yeah, well you stay put too. I’m going to try to find Luc.”

“I wish somebody would tell me who Luc is,” she murmured.

Némes was still looking at Katie. “David will be here any minute,” he told her. “He’ll get things sorted out.”

“David?” Katie said with surprise.

“Who’s David?” her mother asked.

“I called him as soon as I came around. Turns out he’d become suspicious of Liza and was on his way over here. He’s the one who convinced the Atlantic City police chief to send people just on my say-so. Now DON’T MOVE!”

And then he was gone again.

“Who was that?” her mom asked.

Katie ignored her. She felt her face flush with irritation. Némes had talked to her like she was a kid or something. Hadn’t she just gotten herself and her mother out of a very dangerous situation? Hadn’t she just shot a man?

How dare he push her aside and try to ignore her.

Her mother was watching her closely and must have noticed the telltale signs of the legendary McCabe temper rising, because she pulled Katie away from the corpse and the police officers swarming all over it and Liza. The room was small, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, so they slipped outside into the hall.

“You know,” her mother said in a low voice, “I hate being patronized.”

“Yeah,” Katie agreed fervently.

“And we
did
take out those two all by ourselves.”

“Without any help at all,” Katie said with a nod. “Damn it,” she added for emphasis.

“If there’s somebody still in danger, we need to try and help.”

“That’s what I think.”

They looked at each other.

“Let’s go,” Katie said.

“Just tell me who this Luc person is,” her mom said as they walked away, unnoticed in the chaos.

“Later. I promise.”

“You always say that, but this time, you’re actually going to do it. While you’re at it you can tell me who you shot, who that blonde woman is, and what the hell is going on.”

Katie looked at her mother and realized she meant it. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And there’s no way I’m sitting in a car waiting. I’m in this now, and I’m coming too.”

Katie looked into her mother’s set face and had a small inkling of how Luc and Némes must have felt over the last couple of days. Stubborn McCabe women.

She smiled. “Come on.”

So far Luc had managed to elude the men chasing him, but they hadn’t given up. He could hear them walking around the garage and knew they were looking for him row by row. He just couldn’t seem to find the strength to move.

He huddled in the shadows between two cars, his shoulder and his side throbbing unmercifully. Taking those hits from the ricocheting bullets had really fucked him up, plus his damned sprained ankle was swollen again and hurt like a son of a bitch. He hoped he’d be able to run soon, but he kind of doubted it. He was getting lightheaded. He wondered if Katie was all right. In spite of everything, his lips twitched into what might have been a smile.

She’d come to help him. Because she wanted to be with him. Because he was important to her.

He was important to her.

He shook his head slightly with self-disgust. God, Vasco, bleeding to death is turning you into some kind of a damn romantic sap. Even so, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t help remembering how back in the hotel room she’d clasped his head in her hands, put her soft mouth on his and breathed something special right into him.

Something that was only Katie.

The voices were closer. Luc made himself get up, forced himself to ignore his body’s screams of pain and move. Maybe he was going to die, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to make it easy. Fighting was what he did best, and he’d do it until they blew him off his feet.

He managed to scuttle like a big crab to the end of another row of cars before he collapsed again. Twice more he moved, avoiding the men, listening to their increasingly frustrated voices echo in the garage. As he blinked the sweat out of his eyes and tried to look through the maze of parked cars, something caught his attention. He turned his head, then stopped, stared.

It was an old car, battered in the overhead lights. Dark green. Bullet holes scattered up the side.

Kato.

“Hell,” Luc muttered.

Calling on a reserve of strength he hadn’t thought he still had, Luc half ran, half crawled over to the Nova and tried the door handle. It was unlocked. He slithered into the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him as tightly as he could without slamming it. There was a loud snort behind him, a sudden rustle, and something cold and wet prodded the back of his neck.

Luc almost went through the roof. Weapon up, he twisted around as best he could and, to his shock, found himself staring into a large, furry and very familiar face.

“Spot?” The dog woofed and snuffled at him again. “Spot.” He touched the Newfoundland’s broad nose almost tentatively in case she vanished. She drenched his finger with a single lick. “What are you doing here?”

He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. What else would Katie and Némes do with a dog the size of Texas except bring her along on this moronic trip? Of course. Completely logical.

Spot bathed his face and licked his ears, then sniffed his wounded shoulder, obviously wanting to leap into the front seat with him.

Luc pushed her away. “Later, honey, okay? Later. We’ve got to get out of here first.”

He tried to shake off the faintness, but a black cloud was creeping further into the sides of his vision.

“I have to draw them away. I have to save Katie.” He didn’t let himself focus on anything but that. He had to save Katie. He had to save Katie’s mother. He’d promised. He’d given his word.

Although his breathing was harsh in his ears, he heard the footsteps echoing on the cement floor outside and knew Silvano’s men were close. Time to go.

He fooled around with the ignition and although the motor made a grinding noise, it didn’t turn over.

“Come on, you fucker,” Luc muttered.

There were shouts as the men in the garage realized what was happening, and then some wild shots.

“Down!” he yelled at Spot. The dog sank obediently into the backseat just as another shot cracked. The Nova’s rear window exploded.

And Kato roared defiantly to life.

“Holy shit.” Luc pulled himself straighter in the seat and threw the car into gear. “If I get out of this alive, she’s going to fucking kill me.”

The Nova leaped out of its parking place. Silvano’s men shot after it then went racing for their own cars.

He sent Kato spinning up a nearby ramp. They burst out of the garage and onto the street, rocketing down the boulevard that ran in front of the hotel. A minute or two later, he heard loud screeching noises and looked in the rearview mirror. A bunch of black sedans erupted out of the parking garage like a horde of angry wasps.

Not enough time, goddamn it. Not enough of a lead.

Spot sat up and barked.

“Get down!” he shouted.

She dropped to the seat.

He dodged through the traffic, a rush of adrenaline giving him momentary clarity. He couldn’t shake them. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake them. There were too many of them. They shot at him without reservation. They’d hit an innocent bystander. If they got one of his tires, he’d be dead meat.

He swerved through the streets, narrowly avoiding other cars. His wounded arm hung useless at his side. His head spun from pain and the loss of blood. He struggled to hold on, to think, but it was no use. His ears buzzed, flashing lights danced in front his eyes—red and blue and gold.

The sedans were right behind him. Then one pulled even with the Nova. Luc looked over. He saw an Uzi pointing at his head, ducked as a series of shots shattered the side windows.

High above the street the Dream Net Casino’s sign flashed on and off. He almost laughed out loud when he realized he’d come back to where he’d started.

He’d gone in a circle. Come full circle.

Instinctively, he yanked the steering wheel. The pain of the movement made him feel like he was being ripped apart, but the Nova obeyed. It veered with a sickening scream of tires, crashed through a barricade, and launched into the sand under the pier that stood across from the casino.

Luc struggled to control the fishtailing car. He settled for forcing it toward the packed sand at the edge of the water. The other cars were still close behind him.

Fog was rolling in off the ocean, shrouding the beach in a mist that grew thicker the closer they got to the water line. Luc couldn’t see any further than his windshield. Silvano’s men kept shooting at him anyway, even though they couldn’t have had any better visibility. Just literally shots in the dark. Probably hoping they’d get lucky.

Then they did.

One of the tires blew. He lost control of the car in the sand. The Nova spun wickedly round and round, finally stopping when it faced the way he had just come. The engine, clogged with sand, sputtered and died.

A large dark object that appeared to be a tower of some sort loomed up out of the thick air nearby. Probably a first-aid station. One of the cars chasing him burst out of the fog and plowed headlong into the structure. It must have hit a supporting leg, because there was a loud splintering noise. The whole tower came crashing down, smashing the sedan under its weight, spraying wood and debris everywhere.

Luc ducked, as if that would have helped, but the Nova had been far enough away from the tower to escape serious damage. He wasn’t trapped. He needed to get out.

He was opening the door when a second car, apparently not realizing what had happened to the first, hurtled out of the fog. It hit the remains of the structure at full speed, flipped end over end several times and came to a halt balanced on its roof.

Shouts and curses rolled across the sand.

Every particle of his body was screaming with pain. Luc crawled out of the Nova and stood, weaving on his feet, clutching his gun. Men scrambled out of the second overturned car. Other cars had arrived, and he could see the shadows of more people getting out of them. He shot at them, but he was weak, his hand was shaking. He missed. Only the fog and the cover it provided saved him now.

He sank down on his knees in the sand beside the Nova, not able to stand any longer, and pulled the door handle to let Spot out of the back seat. She jumped to him, stood protectively in front of him. Her growl was a low, almost subsonic warning that lifted the hairs at the back of his neck. It sounded otherworldly as it echoed weirdly through the fog.

Dimly, he saw Silvano’s men pause. He heard them yelling at each other.

Somehow he lifted his gun again and shot, just to try to keep them back, but they were advancing anyway, albeit cautiously. The world around him was receding. He was flowing like the blood flowing out of his body and into the sand.

Katie, his mind whispered. Katie.

Luc thought about her blue, blue eyes and wild curly auburn hair and delicious freckles. He thought about how she had looked leaning over him and yelling at him and wearing his clothes. And not wearing anything at all. He thought about how it had been to hold her, how she’d tasted, how it had felt when he’d slipped inside her. How good she was, how sweet. All of the years he’d wasted because he’d been afraid and run away from that damned party.

And now it was over. It never should have begun. Maybe this was the best thing after all.

Spot’s whole body was stiff. Silvano’s men were close. Too close. The dog wouldn’t leave him. They’d probably shoot her as soon as they could see her well enough to make sure they killed her. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop them.

Another life gone. Another life he couldn’t save.

“I wouldn’t.” The voice rang out, bounced through the fog. Unexpected. Masculine. Hard and cold. Familiar.

Luc was confused. He realized the man was talking to the men surrounding him when he spoke again. “I said, I really fucking wouldn’t, assholes. This beach is crawling with cops, and I’ve got one hell of a headache. Just give me an excuse to shoot, you bastards.”

Cops? Luc wondered if maybe some of the flashing lights he’d seen on the street in front of the hotel hadn’t been his imagination after all.

There were some shouts, some scuffles. A few gunshots that didn’t seem to hit anything. Luc didn’t really know what was happening anymore. He didn’t want to know. He closed his eyes and let himself fall on his face in the welcoming sand, let it cradle him. The voice would handle things. He thought it might belong to Justin Némes.

“Luc! Luc!” A small female form fell onto the beach next to him.

Luc turned his face to the side. He couldn’t open his eyes, but he smiled. “Katie.” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but there was a wealth of satisfaction in saying her name.

“Where in the bloody hell did you come from?” He heard Némes shout the words and frowned. Némes shouldn’t talk to her that way.

“We followed you, you asshole. We saw you chasing the cars when they turned onto the beach.” Luc felt her small hands on his arm, his side, and groaned with the pain. “Luc! Oh, my God, Justin. He’s hurt. He’s bleeding.” Her voice was higher, louder with panic.

“Shit. I’ll be right there. Put pressure on the wounds,” Némes said. “I have to make sure these guys are tied down.”

“We need to turn him over.” This voice was older and female. She sounded like she knew what she was doing.

“Mrs. McCabe,” he murmured.

“Yes, it’s my mother. She’s okay,” Katie said.

Hands touched him and carefully rolled him onto his back. Luc choked back a scream as agony lanced through his shoulder and side.

“Luc, shhh. It’s okay.” He realized Katie was practically lying next to him, her face pressed close to his. He breathed her in and was comforted by her scent. He didn’t even mind it when hands that felt like steel pressed against the places that hurt the most.

He swallowed and tried to open his eyes. “Katie, I think I killed Kato.”

“I don’t care.” She was crying. He could hear it.

“Katie?” It was getting very difficult to talk. He wanted sleep. Just sleep. He was so tired. He was really hurt and about to scare the hell out of her and faint. Jesus, how wimpy. But maybe he wouldn’t wake up again, so he had to make sure she knew something. It was important that she knew.

“Yes?” Her voice was a whisper. Choked.

“They say that you see your life go by. At the end.”

“Stop it.” Katie feathered a kiss along his scar. It felt good. “Save your strength.”

“But I didn’t see my life,” he whispered. He had to tell her. She had to know. She deserved to know. He opened his eyes and looked right at her. “I saw you.” Her eyes were shiny with tears behind the glasses.

“I love you.” She said it into his ear, her breath soft and warm against him.

Those were the last words he heard as the blackness finally, finally won.

Katie watched Luc’s head fall back into the sand. “Mom!” she screamed.

“The ambulance will be here in a minute, Katie. Keep pressure on that shoulder.”

“I am, I am.”

“I need to get a better grip on his side.” They jostled around a little, fought for position. “Talk to him, baby. Make him want to stay. He needs to fight. Make him want to fight.”

Katie lowered her head down next to Luc’s. She kept pressure on the horrible wound in his shoulder. While his blood flowed over her fingers, she put her lips right up against his ear and whispered all of the hopes and dreams she’d held buried in her heart since the day Melanie had set her up on a blind date with her foster brother. The dreams she’d had almost since the first time Melanie had mentioned him.

She pleaded with him to fight, to be alive in this world somewhere, even if it wasn’t with her. Over and over again, she told him that she loved him, that he was important, that he was wonderful. That he was a good man.

She was dimly aware of the chaos raging around her. Her mother shouted at Némes that they needed an ambulance, NOW! All at once David Allen was there, his face dark and strained. He took over applying pressure to Luc’s shoulder, his deep voice joining the plea that Luc fight, that he live. The genuine emotion she heard when he spoke to his friend confirmed for her that he was one of the good guys.

Then more police came, then Némes’s face joined David’s, then the ambulance finally arrived with spinning lights and the loud siren. People. Hands. Voices. Shouts. More hands trying to drag her away. Her resistance.