Chapter 130
Shane didn't know where to begin. It seemed like ever since he'd first crossed Rachel's path he'd brought her nothing but heartache and worry.
"Is it my father? Did they find his body?" she finally asked.
Despite her protests he was able to pull her down on the sofa next to him, and she squeezed his hand tightly between hers. The news wouldn't be any easier the longer he waited. It would be best to tell her straight out. "No, it's not your father's body that was found. I'm sorry, Rachel, but it was Cleopatra Carlisle and Randall Clark's bodies that were discovered. It's already been ruled a mob hit by the FBI because of certain calling cards that were left behind at the scene."
Rachel's face paled at the news and her hand went limp in his.
"Cleo's husband? Has he been told?" she asked.
Shane was watching Rachel closely for any signs that she might be close to an emotional breakdown, but other than being cool to the touch, her feelings were buried somewhere deep inside of her. Somewhere he couldn't reach. She was calm, cool and collected. Almost too calm. Something definitely wasn't right with the picture.
"Her husband was away on business at the time of her murder, but he's been notified and is now back in Chicago to see to the arrangements," he said.
"They were married just last year," Rachel said. "The last time I talked to her she was excited because they'd decided to try and start a family right away. They were very much in love. A perfect match."
"I'm so sorry, Rachel. I wish..."
"And what about Randy?" she interrupted. "He doesn't have any family left living. His parents died when he was twelve, and he was raised by a grandmother. Do you think the FBI would let me make the arrangements for his ma.s.s once we get out of hiding? He was Catholic, and he'd want things to be done properly."
"I'm sure something can be arranged," Shane said.
"Good. Well, thank you for telling me. I know it can't have been easy for you," she said and got up from the couch. "I think I'm going to lie down for a little while."
If it hadn't been for the fine tremors in her hands as she rose, Shane would have let her go. But her grief was suddenly so transparent to him he didn't know how he hadn't seen it before. She was holding on by a very thin thread, and she was going to wait until she was alone to break.
"Rachel," he whispered.
"No, Shane, just let me go. I need to be alone." And then her voice broke on a sob and she collapsed into his open arms.
"It's all right, Sugar. Just let it all out." He held her tightly and stroked her hair while her anguish washed over him in waves. He whispered words of love and compa.s.sion in her ear, but she was too far gone to understand the significance.
"It's my fault. All my fault," she repeated over and over again.
Her tears soaked his s.h.i.+rt and he knew there was nothing he could do to take away the burden of her guilt. She'd realize soon enough that her uncle would have found a way to hurt her, whether she'd kept in touch with her friends or not.
The tears slowed, though her breath stayed ragged. "They're all gone," she said. "I have no one left. My family and friends, all destroyed because of a choice my father made. One decision that altered the course of so many lives."
He wanted to tell her she wasn't alone and that she never would be, but he knew now wasn't the time or place. "Not all choices are easy, Rachel, and there are consequences that each choice brings. You can't fault your father for wanting to do the right thing."
"No, I can't fault him, but I have to place the blame somewhere. On someone. I can't even think of what's left for me. The hurt just runs too deep. I'm numb with it."
Shane knew only too well how personal pain numbed the soul. There was only one remedy. Time. He held her in his arms for what might have been hours. If he could have taken the pain away he gladly would have, but life didn't work that way.
Her breathing changed and he thought she might have fallen asleep, but her fingers skimmed across the back of his neck and tangled in his hair. A jolt of l.u.s.t rocketed through his system, and he had to remind himself that it would be all too easy to take advantage of the situation.
"Shane," Rachel whispered.
Her lips brushed against his ear, and he jerked away as if he'd been burned. "No, Rachel. You're not thinking straight, and I don't want to be a subst.i.tute for whatever it is you're feeling right now. If we make love. When we make love," he corrected, "it will be because we both want each other more than anything else. There will be no other demons or ghosts getting in the way the next time."
"Please, Shane," she said, kissing her way along his jaw line and the sensitive skin on his neck to his lips. "I need to feel. I need you."
Rachel straddled his hips and his hands spanned her waist, but he wasn't sure if he was trying to push her away or pull her closer. She had the ability, like no one else ever had, to muddle his thinking.
"You'll hate us both in the morning, and that's not something I can live with."
"We'll both live with it," she said. "We'll go into this with no regrets. Don't you understand that I feel dead inside? Make me feel alive again, Shane."
"Not this way." He gathered his resolve and cursed himself as he pushed her away. He got up from the couch and moved around her in a wide circle, like a lion tamer who was afraid of the lion. The satisfied smile on her lips made it obvious she knew she held all the power, and her eyes were daring him, all but calling him a coward.
She pulled the oversized s.h.i.+rt she wore over her head and tossed it to the floor, exposing the white lace beneath. "You don't play fair, Rachel," he said as the air clogged in his lungs.
"No, I don't. And you, Shane Quincy, have spent too much time being too fair. Too honest. Too n.o.ble. I think it's time you took what you wanted and said to h.e.l.l with everything else."
The snap on her jeans came next, and Shane felt his eyes roll back in his head. The woman definitely knew how to make a statement. She pushed the denim over her hips to reveal a tiny sc.r.a.p of white lace that should have been illegal.
"I'm trying to do the right thing here, Rachel," he said, backing up as she walked toward him like a lioness stalking her prey. He hit a wall and was consumed by panic. She'd flicked the tiny snap at the front of her bra so her b.r.e.a.s.t.s sprang free and all the thoughts in his head vanished. She was beautiful. A vulnerable seductress who would shatter under careless hands. She reached for him but he took her hands in a solid grasp before she could touch him. He didn't want to be careless. Not with her.
"You win, Rachel." He saw the light of triumph in her eyes masking the hurt. Her breathing was rapid and he could see the pulse pounding in her throat. She was looking for something raw and untamed, and he could feel the beast inside him pressing to escape. "But if we do this," he said. "We do it my way."
She looked confused as
"What are you doing?" she asked breathlessly. "I thought you wanted to make love?"
She tried to grab for him and set his pulse racing, but he took hold of her hands again, this time bringing each one to his lips and kissing the tender skin on her palms.
"We are going to make love," Shane said, looking deeply into her eyes so she knew exactly what he meant.
"No, that's not what I want." She pulled against his grasp, but he held tight. "I'm not ready for this."
"Just relax, Rachel. I'm going to take good care of you." His breath steadied now that he was back in control, and when his eyes met hers they were calm and confident. His fingers entwined with hers and he lead her to the bedroom-to the bed they'd shared merely hours before. But this time there would be no mindless coupling in the dark. This time things would be different.
Rachel watched as he switched on the bedside lamp and turned down the bed. Simple gestures that shouldn't have made her heart stutter or her palms go damp. But they did. How had things gotten so out of control? It was her own fault. She'd wanted the freedom of release. A few restless minutes that would take her mind off of the misery. But instead she'd gotten more than she'd bargained for. She had a feeling that making love with Shane, making real love, was something that time wouldn't heal. And she wasn't prepared to deal with the aftermath.
"Listen, Shane, I don't think I'm cut out for this...this," she gestured toward the downturned bed and the thick white candles he was lighting. "Romance," she blurted out.
He smiled patiently and came back to her, taking her hands and leading her toward the bed. She wanted to cover her nakedness, but he wouldn't let her. He was still fully clothed, and Rachel had never felt more awkward in her life. She was as nervous as she was the first time, only now it mattered. This mattered.
He treated her like porcelain, fragile and precious. Her fingers reached for the edge of his s.h.i.+rt and drew it over his head. His skin was warm and hard against her softness, and she reveled in the different textures of him. His mouth roamed over her lazily, lingering and savoring until she was mad with wanting him.
The scent of his desire overwhelmed her, the rich and heady smell that was a mixture of male and soap. She pressed her face against the hollow of his throat and absorbed him. She was restless beneath him, her body arching against his and her fingers bruising his flesh, but he wouldn't give her what she wanted. He took his time, his mouth soothing against hers as he delved into a kiss hot enough to melt.
Whimpers of delight filled the room and she realized they were coming from her. Had anyone ever paid this much attention to her? Only Shane. His patience was endless and his desire for her maddening. She didn't know there could be so much.
Millions of tiny explosions rocketed through her body as his pa.s.sions grew with intensity and his needs became greedy. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the depth of feeling she had toward Shane. She'd never made love before. Been loved. And now that she knew what it was like she was afraid she'd never have it again.
But when they finally joined, all the doubts and fears went away. His mouth took hers once again in a scorching kiss, and she clung to him as they plummeted over the edge of oblivion.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
They spent another two days lost only to each other. They made love and slept and healed, both of them ridding themselves of the wounds they'd learned to live with. They fed their bodies and their souls, telling each other the secrets of their pasts they'd kept concealed for so long. There was no awkwardness between them, only satisfaction and love, though the word had remained unspoken.
It was past midnight and they were both curled together in sleep when they heard the series of beeps telling them someone was about to enter their sanctuary. Shane reached for his gun, unmindful of his nakedness, and he ran into the living room, thinking only of protecting Rachel and giving her a head start to escape.
"Get dressed and get into the other bedroom," he said, his attention on the opening metal door. He saw her out of his peripheral vision and swore. She had the sawed-off shotgun in her hands and was crouched low in the bedroom doorway.
"I'm not leaving you here," she insisted.
"Dammit, Rachel," he said. "Can't you ever..."
"Rise and s.h.i.+ne, sleepyheads," a familiar voice interrupted from the entryway. "We've got a plan and a small window of opportunity to take advantage of it," Jones said.
Shane let out a breath and rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the warning, Wildcat. You're lucky you're not standing there with a bunch of holes in you."
"Nah, bullets don't scare me. You should know by now I'm as good as Superman," Jones said, flipping on some lights. "G.o.d Almighty, boy. Go put some clothes on. I'm too young to go blind."
"Don't hurry on my account," Carrie called from the doorway, causing Rachel to snicker under her breath.
Shane blushed and hurried past Rachel to get his clothes, mumbling things best left unsaid under his breath.
"Sorry, we weren't expecting anyone this late," Rachel said.
"That's the point," Carrie said, coming in and making herself at home. "Though it wouldn't have hurt Jones to knock first," she said shooting him a dirty look.
"What fun would that be?" Jones countered.
Rachel went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. She knew Shane practically lived on caffeine and poured him a cup just as he came back into the room, fully clothed this time. She stuck with bottled water because her system was already jittery enough now that she knew things were about to come to a head.
"So what's this about a plan?" Shane asked.
"We've got the bank president locked up in a safe place, and I've got men watching Angelo," Jones said. "The bank president didn't really want to help us out, claiming something about normal banking hours and customer privacy, but he was real helpful once I showed him a few photos of what Angelo is capable of. He's a real prissy little fellow. Won't let anyone call him anything but Mr. Norman, and he insisted we let him dress in his normal suit and tie before taking him. All we need now is Rachel and to swing by and pick up Mr. Norman and we can go get the list."
"I hope you've got someone you can trust guarding Mr. Norman," Shane said. "I'd hate to get there only to find he's had his throat slashed."
"I think Cutter and Jax would take offense to that," Jones said.
"Cutter and Jax?" Shane asked, surprised. "You called them in to help with this?" A smile split his face before he could help it. If Wildcat had called in members of the Alpha Squadron to help there was no way they would fail. Shane's adrenaline surged and he found he was looking forward to the night ahead.
"Yeah, you could say they owe me a few favors," Jones said. "The whole team came running as soon as I called. Well, almost the whole team. It took everyone a couple of days to rearrange their schedules and get here, but they were more than glad to help out. Civilian life gets boring after a while. Cutter and Jax are keeping a close eye on Mr. Norman, and Merlin and Dixon are keeping an eye on Angelo's activities. I couldn't get a hold of Doc. He's out of the country on an a.s.signment."
"He'll be p.i.s.sed he missed the fun," Shane said.
"There's no rest for the wicked." Jones clapped his hands and got down to business. "You guys pack up your stuff and let's get out of here. We're under crunch time."
"Already done," Rachel said, holding up the black bag of guns they'd found. "I haven't breathed fresh air in almost a week, and I'm itching to finally do something instead of just sitting here waiting."
"You might want to put one of the sweats.h.i.+rts in your drawer on," Carrie said from her relaxed position on the couch. "It's gotten cold over the last few days, and we're supposed to have rain coming soon."
"Thanks, Carrie," Rachel said, noticing for the first time that she and Jones were both wearing jackets over their shoulder holsters. She grabbed a dark sweats.h.i.+rt from the drawer and another for Shane before rejoining the conversation.
"What do you have in mind once Rachel gets the papers from the vault?" Shane asked. "She's still not safe until they're in the right hands."
"Dominic Valentine's attorney has been in protective custody since Dom went missing with the first set of papers and Agent Culver washed up on sh.o.r.e eight months ago. I'll have Cutter and Jax go pick him up just as soon as we relieve them of their babysitting duties over Mr. Norman. I also have a federal judge lined up to sign search warrants for Angelo's home and businesses."
"What about the other people on the list?" Shane asked. "They're going to be out for blood even when the doc.u.ments are turned over."
Jones sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Unfortunately, that's something we have less control over. Until the list Dominic put together has been checked out and confirmed, there's nothing we can do. Rachel will need to go into protective custody until everything is sorted out."
"And how long will that take?" Rachel asked.
"Optimistically, it could be as short as a few weeks. Realistically, it's more likely to be closer to a year," Jones answered.
"No way," Rachel said. "I did just fine for the eight months I was on my own without the FBI's help. There's no way I'm going to be trapped in another place like this one for a whole year. I know how to disappear."
"Yeah, except one of Angelo Valentine's men found you anyway," Shane said.
"I'll admit I made mistakes the last time," she said. "But I promise I can disappear so no one can find me if I really wanted to. And that's exactly what I'll do if they try to force me into being held in protective custody."
"Now, Rachel," Jones said.
"Don't bother," Shane said abruptly. "We'll argue about this later. Let's just get out of here and get things done."
The air was brittle with cold, but Rachel inhaled the icy air with relief. The night was black and the moon barely visible through the gathering clouds in the sky. They left the stolen Honda in the garage and piled into Wildcat's big black SUV.
Rachel knew Shane was angry at her, but it wasn't something that could be helped. She couldn't very well ask him to give up the business he'd created and go on the run with her. That wouldn't be fair at all. And it's not like the future had even come up in the last two days, even though it had seemed that there was some kind of future in store for them.
Rain splattered against the winds.h.i.+eld as the navigation system on the dash led them back to civilization. It wasn't until they pa.s.sed a familiar sight that Rachel knew where they were.
"Why are we back in Joplin? I thought we were going to Chicago?" she asked.
"We've got a private flight chartered to get us there tonight. It's a nine hour drive by car, and I think our sneak attack would lose its effect if we showed up in broad daylight tomorrow," Jones said.
Rachel was obviously too tired to think rationally or she would have realized this already. "How can you keep all of this stuff you're doing for us off the FBI radar?" she asked. "Won't you get in trouble?"
"Nah, but I'm calling in a lot of favors. You're lucky so many people owe me," he said with a c.o.c.ky smile. For some reason Wildcat's confidence rea.s.sured Rachel, and she could tell by looking at Shane that he believed in his friend's abilities with equal certainty.
The Joplin airport looked much different now that they weren't being chased by gun-toting maniacs. Wildcat drove the SUV straight onto the tarmac next to a small twin engine plane that was already running and had the stairs let down for pa.s.sengers to board. It was obviously a company plane of some sort as the logo on the side read NJEnterprises.
They got out of the SUV and into the steady drizzle. A man stuck his head out of the open door, and Rachel got a glimpse of one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen. He was GQ cover model material, but when she got closer she could see the scar that marred his left cheek and left him not so perfect.
"Let's move it, people," the man said. "The weather's only going to get worse and the temperature's dropping." His head disappeared back into the cabin.