To Die For

"You know nothing of inspiring loyalty. Money is not the only motivator a person has. Do you think those men are more afraid of you than they are of me?" he whispered, running the blade of the knife down the side of her cheek.

Carrie's eyes were wide with fear and with the knowledge she'd gone too far.

"P-p-please," she begged. "I didn't mean it."

"I'd enjoy torturing you, but I just can't waste the time," Angelo said. He jerked back hard on her hair and sliced the knife across her throat. A spray of blood arced through the air and Angelo stepped back to avoid the sticky substance from getting on his clothes. He let Carrie fall to the ground and stepped over her body. He held the knife up in front of Rachel-the knife still coated with the blood of a woman she'd promised would die.

Rachel felt no sorrow in the death of Carrie. But she felt fear as her own death stared her in the face.

There was a pool on the roof of the Hanc.o.c.k Hotel. The way it glowed an eerie bluish green would be one of the things that would stay in his mind forever.

Shane didn't have a problem gaining access to the roof in the middle of the night. It had actually been rather simple. He'd showered the dust and blood from his face and body and changed into clothes that hadn't looked like they'd just been in an explosion. Cutter had made sure he was outfitted with a change of clothes and the weapon of his choice-plus any other materials he might need. They'd all been concealed easily inside a suitcase.

He'd checked into the hotel using Cutter's identification, since they looked the most alike physically, and checking in under Shane's own name would get him arrested as soon as they entered his information into the computer. He paid cash for the room and requested one of the upper floors. The bored desk clerk barely gave him a second glance as he signed Cutter's name to the receipt and she handed him the key card.

Shane rode the elevator up to seventeen. When the doors opened, he got off on his floor but walked past his room to the stairs at the end of the long hallway. He climbed the remaining three stories up and used his key card to access the roof level.

The wind and rain was frigid and pelted his face when he opened the door. The door shut behind him, and he took out the cell phone Dixon had given him out of his pocket. Dixon had the phone rigged so that one swipe across the electronic key slot would make the door unusable to anyone else. He'd have the whole rooftop to himself, not that anyone else would be crazy enough to be on the roof in the miserable weather besides him.

In the hotter months of the year, swimming or relaxing on the roof with the cool breeze would probably bring much needed relief to the body, but right now it was pure misery. The wind and other elements were always a factor when setting up for a shot, and he'd have to be careful not to overcompensate. He'd only have one chance.

Shane dropped the suitcase he was carrying onto the ground near the edge of the roof and unzipped it. He pulled a pair of night goggles over his eyes but then immediately tossed them aside. The lights from the hotel were too bright for them to do him any good. He'd have to rely on a pair of high powered binoculars and his scope. It was still a good ways off till dawn, so he didn't have to worry about that factor.

Shane set up the tripod for his rifle with quick, easy movements. The motions were as familiar to him as putting on his clothes every morning. Maybe more. He hunkered down on the cold roof and ignored the wet seeping into his clothes. His only concern was the job at hand.

His friends were twenty stories below, waiting on his signal before they infiltrated the building. He knew the four of them would do exactly what they'd set out to and get rid of all the threats that lurked in the building, but Rachel's safety would rely solely on him.

He used the binoculars and started on the lower floors of the building across the street. Angelo's goons were scattered around the entrances on the lower levels of the building and near the elevators. These guys were lower level security at best. None of them were very alert at this time of night. He saw a couple of them dozing in straight back chairs or on the floor against the walls. That would just make Alpha Squadron's job that much easier.

Rachel hadn't come into his sights yet, but he hadn't expected her to. According to Dixon's research, she'd be on one of the top floors. And Dixon was never wrong. Shane moved the binoculars up floor by floor until he came to the top level. If it weren't for the binoculars he never would have been able to see inside. The gla.s.s had already been tinted dark in preparation for the apartment that was being constructed inside.

And what he saw inside the room sickened him. Rachel was bound to a chair and her face was swollen and b.l.o.o.d.y. He could only see her in profile, but she was looking Angelo straight in the eyes as he talked to her, never backing down. There were two men at Angelo's back, and Shane could tell by the way the stood that they were much more dangerous than the men positioned on the bottom floors. There was a body on the floor that looked like Carrie, but he couldn't be a hundred percent sure. At least Angelo had taken that task out of his hands.

Shane used the cell phone Dixon had given him to signal that he'd found Rachel, and that the rest of the team could enter the building when ready. He couldn't worry about what they were doing or if they were walking into a trap. He could only focus on Rachel and the man who wanted her dead.

Shane breathed slowly through his mouth and slowed his heartbeat before looking through the scope on his rifle and placing his finger on the trigger. Thoughts of what had happened two years ago flooded his brain with the images of horror he saw in his dreams every night, and he cursed as he pulled away from the scope and laid flat on his back on the ground.

He had to get it together. This was a completely different circ.u.mstance, and Rachel wasn't Maggie. The cold rain beat down on his face, but his body temperature was hot. His pulse jumped in his neck and his thoughts were scattered. He closed his eyes and did a few breathing exercises, and then he crawled back into position and looked through the scope once again.

From what he could see, it looked like Angelo's rage was escalating, and Shane knew he could wait no longer.

For the first time in his life Shane's finger shook as he placed it on the trigger.

"Do you know why I wanted you brought here to me?" Angelo asked Rachel.

"Because you're insane," she said. She would have smiled just to p.i.s.s him off, but the movement would have hurt too much.

"You always did have a smart mouth. Your father didn't discipline you nearly enough in my opinion."

"Leave my father out of this. In your wildest dreams you'll never come close to being half the man he is."

"Don't you mean was?" Angelo asked with a Ches.h.i.+re cat smile. He pulled the handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and wiped down the blade in his hand.

Rachel felt the color drain from her face and she became nauseated. She'd waited all this time and had never known the truth about what had happened to her father. She thought she'd prepared herself for the worst, but she'd sorely miscalculated.

Angelo flipped the knife in his hand and kept his eyes steady on hers. "Come now, Rachel. Don't disappoint me. Aren't you going to ask what happened to him? Aren't you the least bit curious to know how he died?"

Rachel bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from screaming out loud. NO! she wanted to yell. She didn't want to know what had happened to her father. But the reasonable side of her brain told her she needed the closure. Needed to be able to finally lay her father to rest.

"What did you do to him?" she finally asked.

Angelo smiled at her and continued tossing his knife in the air, end over end, so Rachel was almost hypnotized by the motion.

"I paid Carrie to bring me Dom and the original list that he'd handed over to Agent Culver. She brought me Dom as I'd asked, but unfortunately the list was nowhere to be found. No one seems to know what happened to it, but I have my own theories. Carrie was a greedy young woman, and she probably thought having her own copy might come in useful at some point. I couldn't blame her really. It's exactly why I wanted the list for myself. I let the transgression slide because I

Angelo tossed his knife to the other hand, and Rachel noticed the guards at Angelo's back were beginning to get antsy. Maybe they weren't as comfortable with a sociopathic boss as they liked to think.

"I'm on the list, you know," Angelo said. "Imagine how you'd feel if your own brother was going to turn you in. I couldn't let it happen, and the other families agreed with me. Everyone was so sad to get rid of Dom," he spat.

Anger flooded Angelo's face and he continued to toss the knife, round and round, only he hadn't noticed how tight he was gripping the blade each time he caught it. Blood dripped steadily down his wrist and onto the floor. "Everyone loved Dom like he was Santa Claus. People aren't afraid of Santa Claus. He was ruining us all."

Rachel jerked against the cuffs around her wrists, but found they were cinched tight. Angelo was losing control quickly and she'd already decided she wasn't going to go down easy. She wouldn't just sit quietly and wait for him to slice her throat. It just wasn't in her nature.

"Dom was a pathetic excuse for a man. I brought him to this very building and sat him just as you are now. I didn't give him the easy way out like I did with your friend here," he said, pus.h.i.+ng Carrie's body over with the tip of his shoe so her gaping throat was exposed. "He didn't even have the decency to take it like a man when I started to work on him. He begged and pleaded the whole time, crying like a little girl, for me to stay away from you. I, of course, would have been glad to accommodate a dying man's last wishes, but then I found out he'd sent you a little surprise in the mail. I can admit I got a little overzealous with your father. He didn't last nearly as long as I'd have liked him to. Sometimes I forget my own strength and cut a little too deep."

Angelo looked down at his hand and noticed the blood for the first time. "See what I mean," he said, holding his palm up for her to see.

The guards at Dom's back were moving towards the elevator, each of them talking on their headsets, repeating the same command for each station to check in. Angelo didn't notice. He was in his own world.

Rachel wiggled her ankles and tried desperately to loosen the rope at her feet. She'd stopped watching the flipping knife and her gaze followed the two guards around the room. They pressed the b.u.t.ton for the elevator, but it never arrived, so they split up and went to each side of the floor were the emergency exit stairs were located.

A hard slap brought Rachel's attention back to Angelo, bringing a moan of pain to her lips. He'd hit the same cheek as Carrie had earlier and blood dribbled down her chin. She breathed through her nose to fight the nausea and couldn't find the strength to groan when Angelo yanked her up by the hair so she was looking him in the face.

"I haven't finished my story yet," he said. "You're being very rude. Now, where was I?"

Rachel didn't make the mistake of taking her eyes off him again.

"Oh, yes. I had just killed your father. It's a moment I'll always remember. And now I have you in exactly the same spot. Ironic, isn't it?"

"What did you do with him?" Rachel was barely able to get the question out. Her face was swollen to the point where her mouth would only open so far and talking was difficult.

"What did I do with him?" Angelo laughed. "I'm not completely heartless. He was my brother after all. I gave him a decent burial. Last spring I had the most beautiful crop of roses bloom in my gardens. I like to think it's because Dom is such good fertilizer."

Tears coursed down Rachel's cheeks and she could tell her uncle was finished grandstanding. The end had come, and her only thought was that she'd never gotten to tell Shane she loved him. Now it was too late for both of them.

"Are you ready, Rachel?" he asked softly. "I'll try not to make it over too soon." The knife was back in his hand in the blink of an eye, but the chaos at the stairwell finally got his attention. Four men dressed in black, with their faces painted to match, burst through the doors. Rachel recognized Jax and the tears started falling faster. The fighting at the stairs was intense, and the guards put up a struggle that would have evened things up considerably if the numbers had been the same.

Angelo didn't waste time trying to save the lives of his bodyguards. He moved slowly behind Rachel and took her by the hair.

The guards were both face down on the floor and the four men in black were the only ones left standing. They each had their weapons pointed to the ground so as not to put Rachel in the line of fire.

"Congratulations, gentlemen. You've found me. But I won't be taken down alone. She'll die one way or the other."

The blade of the knife bit into her skin and she held back a whimper of pain. She closed her eyes tightly and thought of Shane-about the last night they'd spent together and the lifetime they'd never get to see.

Gla.s.s shattered from across the room and she was left with no time to react. One minute she was praying for a quick death and the next her killer was laying crumpled on the ground behind her. She was frozen in shock, and the reality of what had happened didn't begin to set in until Jax came over and began to untie her.

"Oh, G.o.d," she wept. "Shane?" She grabbed Jax's arm as soon as her hands were free. "He's still alive?"

"Alive and well," he a.s.sured her. "But I'd give him another couple of minutes before he makes it over here. He's not as young as he used to be."

Rachel laughed through her tears. "I need to see him. Don't let anyone take me away until I see him."

"He'd kill me if I tried," Jax said. "No offense, honey, but you're not looking so good right now. Maybe you could make your reunion a quick one so we can get you to the hospital."

"Ambulance is on its way," one of the other men called out. "Along with the FBI. Should be an entertaining couple of hours."

As soon as the bullet left his rifle, Shane knew he'd made a direct hit. He barely took the time to disa.s.semble his rifle and put it back in the suitcase before he was running back into the hotel. He rode the twenty floors down with agonizing impatience and ignored the stares of the desk clerks as he ran through the lobby and out the doors.

Traffic was light outside and he ran across Michigan Avenue, dodging taxis and other vehicles until he stood in front of Angelo Valentine's high-rise. He barely noticed the bodies that littered the floor on the inside or how smoothly the elevator ran as he rode his way to the top. All he could think about was Rachel. She was alive. And if she'd have him he'd make sure she stayed safe for the rest of his life.

The elevator doors opened and he ran onto the floor he'd just minutes before been looking at through his scope. He ignored the congratulations from his team members and searched for Rachel. She was sitting on the floor with her back against the wall and Cutter was looking over her bruises.

Suddenly he found himself unsure what to do. How to react. But then Rachel opened her eyes and looked straight at him as if she'd sensed him there all along. She held out her hand to him and he knew exactly where he belonged. Beside her. Forever.

Shane went to her and the sight of her beautiful face, so swollen and battered, made his knees weak and his trigger finger itch to kill the b.a.s.t.a.r.d one more time.

"Oh, baby," he said, taking her hand. He didn't know where else to touch her that wouldn't cause her pain.

"I'm okay," she said. "I thought you were dead." Fat tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "I was so afraid, but when I thought I was going to die you were the only thing I could think of. And then you saved me."

"Ssh," Shane said. "Try not to talk. I know it hurts."

She nodded at him. Shane heard the stretcher being wheeled off the elevator and knew his time alone with her was short. He took a breath and prayed she'd understand what she meant to him. "It was you, Rachel, that saved me," he finally said. "I'm not whole without you, and you've managed to do something I thought was impossible."

"What's that?" she asked.

"You've chased the nightmares away. Love has that ability." He didn't move as the medics came and kneeled beside them. He had one last thing to say. "I love you, Rachel Valentine."

EPILOGUE.

Rachel Valentine was a new woman.

Her dark hair was shorter now, a s.h.i.+ny cap that framed her face, making her eyes seem impossibly large and her cheekbones more prominent. Looking in the mirror every morning still gave her system a jolt, but she knew she would adjust as time pa.s.sed.

With her new hair had come a new name, a new past, a new position at the community library, and a little white house with three bedrooms and a rose garden in Bakersfield, Indiana. She'd at first thought being so removed from the city would drive her crazy, but she was starting to think maybe she really was a small town girl at heart.

The important thing was that she was still alive.

Entering the Witness Protection Program had been her only option after the FBI had taken possession of the list and started making arrests. There had been a small hope inside her that her father's acquaintances wouldn't blame her for turning them in, but the hope she'd harbored had quickly been destroyed. Rachel had suffered a broken jaw and countless bruises thanks to Carrie, and she hadn't been out of the hospital a day before the first attempt was made on her life. If Shane hadn't been there to push her out of the way of the speeding delivery van, the mob contract that had been put out on her would have been easily fulfilled.

Rachel knelt in the gra.s.s in front of the small flower garden she'd planted in front of her new home and pulled weeds mindlessly while her thoughts wondered. Her driver's license might claim she was Karen Smith, and two years might have been added to her twenty-six, but she would always be Rachel Valentine on the inside. It was important for her to remember who she was. Where she came from.

Rachel told herself every morning that the sacrifices she'd made were all worth it. She wasn't a selfish person by nature, so she understood that anyone who was involved in her life-friends and lovers alike-would always be in danger as long as she remained a Valentine.

But G.o.d, how she missed Shane. There was an emptiness inside her that only he could fill. It had been months since she'd last seen him, and even then it had only been in pa.s.sing as they'd both been swept away by FBI agents to give separate statements. The man in charge of the Witness Protection Program had thought it best she get established in her new life as quickly as possible, so she hadn't even been able to say goodbye to Shane or tell him she loved him one last time. Not saying goodbye was something she'd always regret.

The sound of gravel crunching under tires made her pulse quicken, but she brought her head up slowly and watched as a white pickup truck pulled into her driveway. The fear that someone would find her hadn't lessened over the months she'd lived with her new ident.i.ty. She couldn't imagine it ever would.

Rachel stayed kneeling in the gra.s.s, but her hand grabbed the small.22 revolver she habitually carried in her pocket. She placed it on the ground beside her and waited patiently, prepared for whatever might happen. The sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly and kept her from seeing her visitor clearly, so she brought her hand up to shade her eyes and watched as a large man got out of the truck.

"Oh, my G.o.d," she whispered and started to stand, but her knees gave way and her heart continued to hammer in her chest.

Long, deliberate strides headed in her direction and she forgot all about the revolver within her grasp. Denim clad legs knelt in the gra.s.s beside her, and a s.h.i.+ny, silver Sheriff's badge was pa.s.sed briefly in front of her face.

"Maam? Are you all right?"

Rachel's expression turned to one of confusion as she looked at the badge again and then slowly brought her gaze up to look into a pair of familiar dark eyes.

"What? How?" she asked, dazed.

"The name's Quincy Ford. I'm the new Sheriff in Bakersfield. I was just driving through town and saw you as I pa.s.sed by. I knew immediately that I had to stop and find out who the beautiful woman tending her roses was. And then I thought since I'm new in town that maybe we could grab some dinner, or make love or spend the rest of our lives together. In no particular order."

Rachel's breath caught on a sob and she threw herself into Shane's arms, kissing him with months worth of pent up pa.s.sion and taking them both to the ground. She shuddered as his lips devoured hers and moaned as he ran his hands over her body. She became greedy in her wants and forgot where they were. Who they were. Only that they were together at last.

"Maybe we should take this inside, Sugar. I'd hate to have to arrest myself for public indecency."

Rachel choked out a watery laugh and reluctantly loosened her grip. Her face heated when Shane stood up and she saw his s.h.i.+rt was completely unb.u.t.toned and his hair was s.e.xily mussed. She took the hand he offered her and they walked into the house, thankful that none of her neighbors had witnessed her temporary insanity.

"I don't understand any of this," Rachel said, leaning against the kitchen counter. Shane sat down at the kitchen table, but she was too restless to mirror him, afraid if she took her eyes off him he'd suddenly be gone. "What are you doing here? How did you find me? What about your business? Your life?"

"I told you to trust me, Sugar. I've still got plenty of connections, and I decided I'd much rather be with you than alone in New Orleans. You are my life. I wanted to be here sooner, but there were a few details that had to be seen to first."

Rachel noticed the shadow that came over Shane's face and wondered what she'd missed over the last few months. "Can you talk about it?" she asked.

"I decided to put Jones in charge of my business and signed everything over to him. He's in bad shape. I barely recognized the man, and I've known him most of my life. He's harder, tougher, if that's even possible, and you can practically see the violence simmering under his skin. There's no more humor or sarcasm, and I can't really say I blame him. I've been where he is, and nothing but time can make things better."

Shane rubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. "Jones spent more than a month in the hospital recovering from the bullet wound in his chest, and the day he was released from the hospital, the FBI decided he was the one they were going to hold accountable for this whole mess, not Director Shaw, as it should have been. The public and the media wanted a scapegoat, and he was the only one available who wasn't there to defend himself. The man's a war hero, and his entire career has been reduced to less than nothing."

"What did he do?"