One Night More (28 page)

“Like I said. The stress got to you. You felt guilty about the trouble you stirred up in an attempt to further your career. I tried to talk you out of it, but . . .” He paused and brought his face down to hers, his expression that of contrived concern “You jumped before I could stop you.”

Oh, God. He was going to push her off the roof and watch as she fell to her death. Harper’s chest constricted and she fought for a deep breath. She couldn’t die like this, pitched off the roof by some crazy asshole after a few bucks.

“You’ll be nothing more than another sad, sorry girl who threw herself off a roof. The media buzz will die down after a week or so. No one will care. No one will miss you. And my secrets will be safe and sound.”

“My boss has Ellis’s flash drive.” Did Jason miss that tidbit? Was he even listening to her?

“That’ll be easy enough to recover. I know some pretty powerful people, Harper, who’ll be more than happy to lean on your boss and that idiot I clocked in your office for me. I’m not worried.”

“I uploaded the story on the Ellis scandal to our website right before you walked into the conference room.” The words spilled from Harper’s mouth in a rush. “Your secrets will be national news by the end of the day.”

Jason paused with mere feet separating Harper from a five-story drop to unyielding pavement. She was going to die. Her family would see her death sensationalized on every news channel in the country. The public would be convinced that she was some sort of fame-crazed lunatic who lied and concocted stories to get ahead. The fact that she’d been acting like a secretive fool, withholding evidence from the FBI, would only lend credence to Meader’s interpretation of events. And Galen. Oh God. The thought of leaving him left a dark, gaping hole in her heart. She’d waited for him. Hoped and prayed for an entire year that she’d see him again. And now that they’d found each other, she’d never see him again. Never feel the heat of his skin against hers or shiver at the warm timbre of his voice in her ear.

She couldn’t let her life end like this.

“You’re lying,” Jason said, his eyes searching hers for some hint of truth. “Ellis’s files were password protected.”

Harper took a shuddering breath. “Blake. Swan. Lake.”

Jason brought his arm up, the gun clenched tightly in his fist. He swung at her and a white-hot pain exploded in Harper’s skull as the back of his fist made contact with her face. She fell to her knees and stars swirled in her vision as her surroundings grew dark. Her cheek throbbed and she wanted to swipe at the warm trickle of blood that tickled her face. But she couldn’t raise her arm higher than her waist. Dizzy and weak, she listed to one side and then the other. Two Jason Meaders hovered over her.
Gah
. As if one weren’t bad enough. She’d pass out and he’d throw her off the roof while she was unconscious.

Good-bye,
Washington Post
. Good-bye, career. Good-bye, life she’d worked so hard for, family, friends, colleagues. Good-bye, delicious apple fritters and Voodoo Donut.

Good-bye, Galen.

The two Jasons leaned down and, as Harper’s vision cleared, became one. He wrapped his left hand around her throat and hauled her up to stand, and then jabbed her in the ribs again with the gun.
Ouch
.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he snarled as he forced her to the edge of the building. Harper fought as hard as she could, but she was still a little dazed and had a hard time holding her ground. Her feet slipped on the asphalt roof and she leaned in toward Jason, winding her fists into his shirt. If she was going over, she was taking him with her. “I can still discredit you, though. Once I get Ellis’s flash drive back, your so-called story will be nothing but libel. Maybe I’ll sue your paper and make a little extra cash on the side.”

“Jason.” Harper’s voice was nothing more than a ragged whisper with his palm squeezing her throat. Air. She needed more air. He wouldn’t really suffocate her before he threw her off the building, would he? What a sadistic son of a bitch. “Please. Don’t.”

“You shouldn’t beg, Harper,” Jason said as he released his grip on her throat to pry her fists from his shirt. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him. “It’s beneath you.”

He pushed at her and she felt herself lean back. Harper peered over the edge of the building at the street below. Should she pray? Send one last positive burst of energy out into the universe before she died? Harper closed her eyes as she fought for a deep breath.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Galen took the last set of stairs three at a time and burst through the door to the roof like a man possessed. Each second that passed was a second closer to Harper’s death. Whoever had snatched her out of the conference room wasn’t bringing her up here for a friendly chat, and he prayed that he could get to her before anything happened.

The haze of panicked rage that clouded Galen’s vision cleared the instant he saw Harper leaning over the edge of the building. He recognized the asshole holding her by the throat as Senator Ellis’s aide. His goddamned smug face had been plastered all over the news for weeks. Harper’s right cheek was swollen, the skin split and bleeding, and Galen promised himself that this man would feel, tenfold, every injury he’d inflicted upon the woman he loved.

But he wouldn’t get retribution without a clear head.

He’d been conditioned to keep his shit together in high-stress situations like this one. His SOG training hadn’t mentioned anything about keeping it together when you were emotionally attached to the person you were supposed to protect, though. Logic warred with irrationality. Years of training dictated that he play it cool. Keep his distance. Do nothing to rile the suspect. The other part of him, the man who couldn’t lose her, wanted to charge at the gunman and put a bullet through his chest.

“U.S. Marshals Service,” Galen announced loud enough for the people down on the street to hear him. “Put the gun down and step away from Miss Allen.”

The asshole had the nerve to chuckle. He turned to face Galen and wrapped his fist around Harper’s throat. “You guys are the laughingstock of federal law enforcement, you know that? Special Agent Davis and I had a good laugh at your expense this morning. I mean, seriously, you practically let Harper parade herself around town with a target on her back. Not exactly the kind of spectacle you want from a high-profile witness. And bringing her here?” He shook his head. “Sorry, Marshal. But that was a bad call on your part.”

Galen clamped his jaw shut so it wouldn’t fall to his feet. If Monroe had known he and Harper were here, it wasn’t a far stretch to think that Davis had known as well. And that dumb son of a bitch had let it slip to Ellis’s murderer right where he could find Harper. The Marshals Service was a laughingstock? The FBI had them beat by miles.

“This place will be surrounded by police, FBI, and marshals in a matter of minutes. I suggest you opt for the easy way out and jump. But since I don’t take you for a coward, you should give yourself up now and make this easier on everyone.”

The guy had the nerve to smile at Galen. “You’re right. I’m not a coward. And I’m not giving myself up, either. I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this before. She’ll be dead by the time anyone else shows up. You can join her if you want.”

He had the sharp expression and calm demeanor of someone with a lot of experience in the field. If Galen had to guess, his money was on special forces. Trying to talk him out of whatever it was he had planned was out of the question. Guys like that didn’t bargain. They picked a course of action and saw it through to the end, no matter what. Which made Harper’s predicament that much worse. At least fifty feet separated them. He’d never make it to her before this asshole pushed her off the roof. And likewise, he could take a shot, but doing so put Harper at even greater risk. He could take them both over the edge or his finger might slip on the trigger and he’d shoot Harper anyway.

Fuck
.

Galen felt Harper’s eyes on him, but he refused to look at her. If he gave any indication that he was overly concerned for her—felt
anything
for her—the guy would only exploit their situation and expedite her death.

“I think we need to take a breather and reason this out, don’t you?” Talking might buy him some time and every second was precious. “You might think you have the FBI in your back pocket, but they aren’t the only game in town. Whether you kill Harper or not, you’re going to be under a lot of scrutiny, and an investigation, no matter how small, is going to ruin any plans you have. Don’t heap a murder charge onto your already very full plate.”

“You know dick about my plate, so maybe you should lose your sidearm and shut the fuck up before I introduce Harper to the sidewalk.”

True. Galen had told Harper that desperate men had nothing to lose. This guy was different, though. He wanted her out of the picture because he was holding on to something, not because he’d let it all go. “I’m putting down my weapon.” It went against every instinct to leave himself vulnerable, but he had to play to his opponent’s arrogance. He set his Glock down beside his right foot.

“Kick it toward me.”

Damn it. Galen extended his leg and nudged the gun several feet away. “I don’t think I got your name. I’m Deputy Galen Kelly.”

He smirked. “Jason Meader. Soon to be Senator Jason Meader. They really ought to keep you deputies up on current events, you know.” Oh, yeah, this guy thought he was a big freaking deal.

Galen shrugged. “I’ve been in France.”

Meader gave him a caustic look. “Charming.”

Monroe couldn’t be more than eight blocks away, and the Portland police and FBI wouldn’t be much farther behind. Galen needed just a moment of distraction to redirect his attention. If he could get Harper clear of the danger, Meader would be easy to take down. This time he took a chance and let his eyes find Harper’s. She’d been staring at him the entire time, and the fear reflected in the hazel orbs set off an explosion of rage inside of him. A tiny distraction. That’s all he needed. Just a second or two.
Come on, Harper. You can do it
.

“I made a copy of Ellis’s files.” She spoke as if she’d read his mind. Her voice was a raspy whisper thanks to the grip Meader had on her throat. Galen was going to show him exactly how that felt soon enough. “If you kill me, you’ll never find it.”

Meader pressed the barrel of his gun into Harper’s temple and a tear trailed down her cheek. Her precarious position at the edge of the roof was the only thing keeping Galen from plowing into that son of a bitch. “Where is it?” Meader snarled next to Harper’s ear.

Galen took a step forward and Meader swung the gun around and leveled it at his face. “Take another step, Deputy, and Harper’s going to try her hand at flying.”

Gun still trained on Galen, Meader turned his attention back to Harper. “Where. Is. It.”

He squeezed her throat and between rasping breaths she squeaked, “In the mail. On its way to CNN.” She twisted in his grip and brought her knee up and connected squarely with Meader’s groin. He spun away, releasing Harper as he clutched at his nuts.

Galen focused his attention on Harper. She rubbed her neck and gasped for air. There was no time to take a break. She’d have to catch her breath later. “Harper, take cover!”

 

 

Harper stumbled as she ran toward a large air vent, because to be honest, she wasn’t even trying to pay attention to where she was going. The sight of Galen charging toward Jason Meader made her heart catapult up into her throat. The sound of Meader’s gun discharging echoed in her ears as he took a wild shot. Harper held her breath, relief cascading over her as she realized he’d missed his target. On the heels of relief came an undeniable sense of awe at the sheer maleness of Galen as he took Jason down in a football tackle that was so reminiscent of that first night they’d met. Galen Kelly was a freaking
god
.

They rolled around on the rooftop, a tangle of limbs as Galen threw several punches that connected bodily with Meader, while he fought to keep hold of the gun that had swung too close to Galen’s head for comfort. All it would take was one wild shot and she’d lose him forever.

In the distance, the sound of sirens grew closer, and Harper breathed a sigh of relief through her raw and ragged throat. She didn’t even try to swallow. A simple flick of her tongue was painful at this point. A scream built up in her chest, but it had nowhere to go. She wanted to call for help. To make sure that someone—anyone—knew they were up here. If anything happened to Galen, Meader wouldn’t have to pitch her off the roof. She’d gladly jump because Harper knew she’d never be able to live with the guilt of knowing that her irresponsibility had caused the death of the man she loved.

The man she couldn’t live without.

She’d underestimated Jason. Sized him up as nothing more than an overprivileged snake in the grass with more ambition than actual common sense. God, had she ever been wrong. He fought like he’d been conditioned and trained for it. Deflected Galen’s punches as though he instinctively knew where each one would land. Got his own jabs in at the right moment, using the butt of his gun for leverage. And despite the fact that Jason could have given an MMA champion a run for his money, Galen held his ground and was actually gaining the upper hand.

From the corner of her eye, Harper noticed Galen’s discarded gun. She rushed to where he’d kicked it away and picked it up, the heavy metal weighing down her hand. Was the safety off? Was it loaded? Could she even shoot it if she wanted to? She’d never used a handgun before. What if she screwed something up and managed to blow her own face off ! To hell with it. She could bluff with the best of them. Whether or not she was a sharpshooter didn’t matter.

“Stop!” Her vocal cords were on fire as the word tore from her throat. The two men didn’t even break their stride, rolling and throwing punches as though she hadn’t just shouted. Well, sort of shouted. Fine. She could do better than that. She pointed the gun away from anywhere that a stray bullet might hurt someone, closed her eyes tight, and squeezed the trigger. The report was instant, her arm flew backward with the recoil, and she lost her grip on the gun sending it soaring toward Galen and Jason. Her ears rang and she wondered if maybe she’d blown her eardrums. It didn’t matter. She got the response she wanted.

The gunshot was enough of a distraction to break up the fight. Unfortunately, Jason still had possession of his weapon while Harper had foolishly sent hers flying.
Way to save the day, Harp
. Her breath stilled in her chest as Jason aimed his gun at Galen’s chest. Time stopped. Her heart quit beating. Oh, God. She hadn’t helped at all. She’d done nothing more than give Jason an opportunity to empty his gun into Galen’s chest.

Jason pulled up to aim his weapon right as Galen rolled away in a maneuver that sent Harper’s head to spinning. He looked like a character out of her favorite superhero movie as he positioned himself to land where Harper had dropped his gun. He scooped the weapon into his fist and fired off a shot without even taking the time to aim.

Like it mattered.

Galen was totally a superhero as far as Harper was concerned. The shot cracked in the silence, and Jason’s right arm went limp. A crimson stain spread over his shoulder and down his arm, blooming over his fancy white dress shirt like a rose under the summer sun. He looked down at the wound, disbelief marring his usually controlled expression. Galen kicked his discarded gun away and shoved him down on his face, not bothering to take care with his wounded shoulder as he produced a pair of handcuffs from his belt.

“You’re under arrest for murder and conspiracy, asshole,” Galen growled. “Oh, and for assaulting a federal officer. You have the right to remain silent . . .”

His voice faded to the back of Harper’s mind as sensation returned to her limbs. She felt as though all the blood were rushing back to her brain in a single tidal wave and she became light-headed, the world tipping on its axis while she tried to hold her footing. The roof seemed to slip out from underneath her and she crumpled to her knees. Her pulse raced in her ears, a baseline to accompany the high-pitched ringing. She’d almost lost him today. Hell, she’d almost lost herself today.

“Harper?”

She looked up from what she assumed was a super attractive position—bent over with her head between her knees—to see Galen standing over her, his brow pinched with concern. His eyes searched hers and he cupped her elbow in his palm as though afraid to make too much contact. “How bad are you hurt? Harper? Talk to me.”

The words came to her as though she was submerged underwater and Galen was on dry land shouting at her, but at least she wasn’t deaf so she was counting it as a win. “I’m fine.” Ugh. She hoped she wasn’t shouting. “I’m just freaked out.
Really
freaked out.”

His expression transformed from worry to relief in a second flat. He took her in his arms and held her so close that she wasn’t sure where her body ended and his began. She pressed her palms into his chest, taking comfort in the strength of his presence, the steady thrum of his heartbeat. Her own personal hero had swooped in to save her butt. Not once, but three times. “I bet you’re tired of getting me out of trouble,” she murmured against his shirt. She inhaled deeply and held his scent in her lungs. She’d never get enough of that spicy, masculine smell.

“Never.” He planted a kiss to the top of her head and squeezed her tight. “I can handle whatever you dish out, Harper. Bring it.”

Laughter mingled with tears and she sniffed. “Believe me, I’m going the low-profile route from here on out. No more excitement for a while.”

Galen led her toward the edge of the building, and she stole a glance at Jason, handcuffed to a metal rod near one of the roof vents. The bloody stain had spread down his arm, and his head was slumped, but it looked like he was going to live long enough to face the consequences of his actions. Good. He didn’t deserve the easy way out. Maybe now that everything was out in the open, Ellis could, in death, have the clear conscience he’d wanted.

She peered over the building to see why Galen had brought her over. Below, the street was crowded with police cars, unmarked government vehicles, two ambulances, and several news vans. The scramble of activity was dizzying and Harper leaned against Galen for support.