Alex uncrossed his legs and tried to resettle himself into a more comfortable spot in
his seat. The antique couches that lined the lobby were nice to look at, but they weren't
exactly plush. The cushions were painfully thin and the backings were as hard as stone. It
wasn't the type of thing he usually minded. He'd done surveillance in much worse
conditions for longer periods of time without a single complaint.
He couldn't blame his lack of sleep. Sure, he'd only dipped in and out of the lightest
sleep last night. His mind had buzzed, working out the details in this new little wrinkle in
his assignment. That this new wrinkle happened to be an attractive and intriguing woman
sleeping not twenty feet from him had nothing to do with it. But Alex knew from
experience what sleep deprivation felt like, and this wasn't it.
No, what had him squirming in his seat was the look in her eyes as she'd left the
room this morning. She was scared.
He could understand why she would be scared of him. It was a perfectly rational
reaction. But that wasn't it. Not entirely.
She was scared for him.
No one ever worried about him. No one. Ever.
All morning he'd struggled against the urge to reach out and pull her close. To wrap
his arms around her and feel that soft mouth under his again. He'd passed it off as simple
lust, something he understood well. But with that one look, she had floored him. He
didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know how to feel.
Sitting in the windowsill, she'd been so open. So truthful. She'd thought of him when
she didn't have to. She'd bought him breakfast after all the trouble and confusion he had
caused. It was funny to think about it, but that muffin might have been the sexiest thing
he'd ever seen.
Alex picked up the tablet at his side and pretended to read. He had to get back to
thinking about his assignment, instead of a pair of soulful brown eyes.
He'd been in this spot for an hour now, and no one familiar or suspicious had passed
by. He hadn't really expected any action. John's DHS team had all the entrances and exits
covered. They would let him know if anyone of interest was on the move. If anything was
going to happen this morning between the Munoz's and his CIA leak it was doubtful that
it would happen in clear view of the lobby.
He could have complained that he'd wasted a whole morning, but that wasn't why he
was down here on this ridiculous excuse for a couch. Not really.
Beth had gone down to the spa with the rest of the bridesmaids, and, once she was
done, she would have to come through the lobby. He hadn't figured out what he was
going to say when he saw her. He hadn't even made up his mind if he was going to
approach her at all. He didn't want to antagonize her if she still looked upset.
But he did want to see her. For some reason that had become very important.
Alex turned his head at the sound of heels clicking on marble. Beth was in the
middle of a group of women making their way up the stairs. She was laughing, but her
smile was still tight. Worry lines were etched around her eyes and forehead. Her body
was tense.
She gave Isobel Munoz a long hug, and then broke away from the pack. Alex tucked
away his tablet, and rose, following close behind as she made her way to the front door of
the lobby.
"Beth," he said when he had almost caught up to her. She turned around warily.
"Hey," she said. She didn't stop walking.
He fell into step beside her. "Where are you going?"
"I have an errand to run for Isobel."
"You want some company?" he asked.
That made her stop. She looked at him long and hard. She was worried he was
dangerous. And he was. He wouldn't lie to her and tell her otherwise. The truth was he
was far more dangerous than she could ever imagine.
The only thing he could do was assure her that he would never harm her. And he
never would. Never. That she would even think it a possibility cut him deeper than he
wanted to admit.
The look in her eyes was all apology when she opened her mouth. Before she could
say a word, Spencer and Jordan Masterson walked out of the café. Jordan came over and
clapped Alex on the back.
"Hey guys, how are you?" he asked.
"Just fine," Alex said.
Spencer Masterson stayed where he was. His eyes were on Beth, and Alex didn't
much like what he saw in them. He was like a child who didn't like seeing some other kid
playing with his toy. There was a mix of jealousy and, more concerning, anger. This was
a man who didn't like to be shown up. And he blamed Beth for his humiliation.
Alex hooked his arm around Beth's, and met Spencer's gaze full on. After a second,
Spencer looked away, but none of his petty displeasure had subsided.
"Where are you guys off to?" Jordan Masterson asked.
"We have some errands to run," Alex said.
Beth's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say a word.
"Isobel's hooked you into running around for her again?" Spencer asked Beth.
Beth's smile was strained and shaky. She was a terrible actress.
"I don't mind," she said.
"That's right. We don't mind at all," Alex said looking Spencer straight in the eye.
His stare was enough to drain some of the swagger out of the cocky son-of-a-bitch.
Some, but not all.
"You'd better be careful, Charlie. Beth doesn't like guys who speak for her," he
said.
"Really? Because from what I've heard, you were never really the best judge of her
likes and dislikes."
"Boys," Beth said, rolling her eyes. She was obviously annoyed with the pair of
them. "Why do you even care what I'm doing, Spencer? Don't you have plans of your
own?"
A slow smile spread across his face. He looked Alex up and down. "Yeah, I've got a
few things of my own to look into today."
"Good luck with that," Alex said, hooking his arm around Beth's tense back and
leading her toward the hotel doors.
***
She was stuck with Charlie. It had to be written in the stars. She'd told him three
dozen times in the four block walk to the florist that she didn't need him around, that he
could go back to the hotel, that she was fine on her own. But he refused to take a hint.
The worst part of it was that she wasn't even sure that she wanted him to. She knew
that she should—he had proven to be a dangerous man, after all—but knowing something
and feeling it were two different things. And the truth was, she was having a hell of a
time getting him out of her head.
She'd wasted her time in the spa trying to figure out her feelings toward him. She felt
some fear, sure. She wasn't used to guns or secret plans. But for some reason she wasn't
scared of him. He'd been kind to her. He'd been helpful. He'd had every reason to be
angry with her this morning for poking her nose into his stuff, but he hadn't been. He'd
actually tried to calm her down.
So she'd wasted what should have been the most relaxing time before the wedding
desperately trying to figure him out. After two hours, she still didn't have an answer.
She'd been hoping that a nice long walk alone might bring some clarity, but then he'd
appeared at her side.
She should be past letting him surprise her.
She opened the door of florist shop and found him exactly where she'd left him,
leaning against a brick wall, watching the traffic go by. He turned his face toward her as
she stepped outside.
"All done?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Was that all you needed to do?"
"Yeah." She started walking back in the direction of the hotel. Within a few steps he
was right back at her side.
"Do you want to get some lunch?" He gave her the same smile that he had given her
in the lounge last night, the one that turned her knees to jelly and set her heart fluttering
in her chest. She hadn't felt those things since she'd been sixteen and Carlos Diaz had put
his arm around her at a party.
"There was an Ethiopian place that we passed on our way here that looked pretty
good."
"Um, I'm not sure," she said.
"How's that? Either you're hungry or you're not."
Beth stopped mid-stride and turned toward him. "Why do you want to have lunch
with me?"
"I didn't know I needed a reason," he said.
She sighed and shook her head. "Yeah, you do. And a good one, too. Because I want
to know what the hell is going on here."
"Nothing is going on," he said.
"Like hell," she said. "I don't know anything about you, Charlie. I don't even know
your real name. All I do know is that you are armed, and have mysterious plans for the
hotel that my best friend is getting married in this weekend. You're helping me with my
silly little domestic problems, even though I can't figure out any way that it could
possibly benefit you. And despite all of this, I can't seem to get you out of my head. So,
yeah, I'm going to need a reason that I should be in your presence any more than I
absolutely have to."
"You can't stop thinking about me?" A grin pulled up the corners of his mouth.
Beth threw her hands up in the air. She turned away from him and strode in the
direction of the hotel. She wouldn't slow down until she got there. Screw her pride. She'd
hide out for the rest of the weekend in Isobel's room if she had to. Poor Jordan might find
it a little awkward come Sunday night, but she was sure he'd understand once she
explained.
Sorry Jordan, but your wedding night is going to have to wait since through a series
of mind-blowingly bad decisions, I have passed off a felon as my boyfriend, and he's
down in my room right now, planning God knows what.
Her humiliation would be complete.
"Beth," his voice sounded a few feet behind her.
She ignored him and kept going. She stormed her way through the crowded
sidewalk. She weaved in and out of the crowd, tears welling up in her eyes. Pity was a
self-indulgent emotion, but if she'd ever been tempted to give in to it, now was the time.
Beth lifted her head just in time to see a man walking right toward her. She moved a
few inches to the right. He mirrored her moves. Beth slowed her step. There was a look in
the man's eyes that disturbed her. Something wasn't right.
"Beth," Charlie shouted. There was no annoyance in his voice now, only warning.
Beth stopped cold. Something glinted in the man's hand. The same glint she'd seen from
Charlie's bag. He had a gun. And he was coming for her.
She didn't have time to run. He was only a couple of feet away. She didn't even have
time to scream.
A second later, Beth was jarred hard to the left. Charlie's body slammed into her,
shoving her into a small dark alley. She stumbled but kept her feet.
The alley was narrow, only big enough for a trash can to be pulled between two
buildings. It was barely wide enough for her to see around Charlie.
He stood with his back to her at the entrance of the alley. His whole demeanor had
changed. His shoulders were locked, his legs braced. He was ready for a fight.
He was trying to protect her, she realized.
The stupid man was going to get himself killed. You couldn't punch your way out of
a gun fight. Even Beth knew that.
The man with the gun turned the corner, right into Charlie's path. Beth screamed out
to warn him. She needn't have bothered.
Charlie's palm shot out and curled around the man's right wrist. He wrenched it back
at an unnatural angle. The man's face contorted in pain, but he held tight to the weapon.
Charlie pulled back farther, until there was a sickening crack of bone and tendon. Only
then did the man's hand involuntarily drop the gun. It clattered on the pavement and slid
into the drainage ditch by the side of the building.
Even with a badly broken wrist, the man still went after Charlie, punching with his
left hand. Charlie ducked out of the way and the heel of his hand crashed against the
man's nose. Blood poured out, but the attacker still kept coming.
There was a lethal grace to Charlie's movements, and his attacker's, as well. Fists
flew faster than Beth could keep track of in the small, dark space. There was no wasted
movement. No time to get a reaction wrong.
He's coming for me, she thought. It didn't make any sense. There was no reason. And
yet she knew it as surely as anything. This man didn't just want to kill someone. He
wanted to kill her. And if Charlie fell, he was going to.
But Charlie didn't fall. Beth watched in wonder as every punch Charlie threw
connected.
The man stumbled back a few feet at Charlie's last blow. Both men had time to
regroup. The attacker pulled out a shiny blade. Thin and four inches long, he held it in his
palm like it was an extension of his hand. The next hit he connected to Charlie would kill
him. The man smiled through the fountain of blood that poured down his face.
This fight was as good as over.
He rushed Charlie.
Charlie didn't flinch. He waited until the man barreling toward him was close, then
he slid his back against the wall and used the man's own momentum against him. Charlie
pushed against his attacker's back. The man stumbled, unable to regain his balance. He
fell past Charlie, stopping just short of Beth.
She skittered back until her back was against the wall at the back of the alley. She
was trapped.
The man looked up. His eyes locked with hers. His mouth twisted up in a murderous
grin. He rushed her.
Faster than Beth could blink, Charlie wrapped his arms around the man's neck. With
one sickening twist, her attacker's head snapped to the side. A vacant look instantly filled
his eyes, and his body went slack. His dead weight slumped to the ground.
Beth stared. That didn't just happen. It couldn't have.
She pressed her spine against the jagged brick wall at her back, desperate to get away
from the body.
A body. Dear God, there was a dead body in front of her. Dead eyes looked past her,
but she couldn't look away.
"Beth."
She barely heard her name. It sounded like it was coming from far away. Her knees
began to buckle. She didn't want to fall. If she did, she'd fall on top of it.
Oh God.
She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a rush of air that sputtered at the
end.
"Are you all right?" Charlie grasped her upper arms, forcing her to meet his gaze.
She kept staring at the dead man. Charlie gave her a little shake when she didn't answer.
"Are you hurt?"
She looked up at him. There was concern in his eyes. Concern and something else.
Fear. He was afraid she'd been hurt.
The concern confused her more than anything. He'd just killed a man, right in front
of her. And he'd done it with a kind of graceful efficiency that told her this wasn't the first
time he'd done such a thing.
"Beth?"
She shook her head. "I-I'm not hurt," she said.
He looked her up and down once before trusting her words. Only then did he let her
go.
"Don't look at him, Beth," Charlie said calmly. "Look at me."
Beth snapped her eyes back to Charlie's face and kept them there.
"Y-you killed him." Her lips struggled to form the words.
"I did," he said. He put his hand out to her. It was covered in blood. "You're safe
now."
"You killed him," she repeated, louder this time.
He held his finger up to his lips. She glanced behind him. Just beyond was a city
street, filled with sunlight and people. Someone could walk by at any moment. Someone
could look down the alley and catch them with a dead body.
"I had to. He was going to kill you, Beth."
She shook her head frantically. "Why? Why would anyone want to kill me?" The
words tumbled out of her. She didn't expect an answer, and he didn't give one.
"Breathe," he told her. "Sit down if you need to."
Beth nodded. She derived a strange sense of calm from the orders that he gave her.
Someone else was in charge, and she didn't have to figure out what to do. She only had to
listen. There was no reason in her brain right now. There was only the haunting image of
life flickering out of the dead man's eyes.
She slid down the wall until her legs were tucked underneath her.
"I need to move him," Charlie said. His words floated in and out of Beth's head.
"You might want to look away."
Beth nodded, but her eyes stayed fixed on Charlie as he grabbed the dead man by the
arms. He pulled him easily around the corner. With barely a grunt, he lifted the large man
into the dumpster and arranged some garbage bags over him. Then he pulled out his
phone. He pressed a single button and waited.
He spoke softly into the phone. Beth didn't catch every word he said, but it sounded
like he was giving someone their location. After that there were some words she didn't
understand, then a series of letters and numbers. Beth didn't try too hard to make sense of
it.
A minute later, he came over and held out his hand. She stared at it. He'd wiped off
most of the blood, but there was still some buried in the creases of his palm and
underneath his fingernails.
"Beth," he prompted her, breaking her out of her dark thoughts. "I need to get you
out of here."
Her hand was openly shaking as she slid it into his. He pulled her up, and tucked her
against his side.
Beth winced as the light hit her eyes, making it almost impossible to see in the
bright, midday sun. She hadn't been in the alley for more than a few minutes, but it
seemed like an eternity.
"Shouldn't we call the police?" she asked, once her brain had caught up.
"I've already taken care of it," he said. The phone call. Of course he had.
He started walking, pulling her behind him on the sidewalk.
"Shouldn't we wait until they get here?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No. There might be more men. They might be watching us right
now."
Beth's heart pounded. He didn't have to clarify who he meant. More men who
wanted to attack her. They could be around every corner. But why would they be? It
didn't make any sense. None of this did.
She stumbled, and he pulled her closer. She leaned against him, her legs like jelly,
letting him take the brunt of her weight. He didn't seem to mind.
"It's just the adrenaline," he said. "You'll be fine in a little while."
She nodded because she couldn't think of anything else to do. The people passing by
paid them no attention. They didn't seem to notice the flecks of blood that dotted
Charlie's jacket, or her shaking legs.
"It's only another couple of blocks back to the hotel," he said. "You're going to make
it."
Of course she would. What choice did she have? She couldn't break down in the
middle of the street, just because her entire life had just changed back in that alley. She'd
watched a man die. She'd been part of it.
She couldn't think about that. Right now, all she had to do was concentrate on
keeping one foot in front of the other.
Somehow she managed.
Then she had to get up to the fourth floor. She pulled away from Charlie and hurried
through the lobby. She didn't care anymore if anyone thought that something was wrong
with her.
All she wanted to be was safe in her room, reasonably certain that no one with a gun
or knife would be coming through the locked door. She took the stairs. There was no way
that she was waiting for the elevator. Charlie kept pace with her. She didn't stop until
every lock on the door was bolted behind her.
Then the tears came. She wasn't even aware of them at first. It wasn't until her
shoulders started shaking that she realized she was crying.
Her legs gave out underneath her and she crumpled onto the floor. In an instant,
Charlie was there, wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in close, just like he'd
done when he was helping her back to the hotel. Just like he'd been every moment since
she'd walked into the hotel. Charlie was there.