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“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 disassemble 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.
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 bastard 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 corners 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.
“I hope you’re planning to marry me soon,” she said. “Because when I get out of the hospital I plan to pick up where we left off at the safe house.”
He laughed and kissed her softly on the forehead. “You’ve got a deal, Valentine.”
Epilogue
Being Shane’s wife had its perks.
There was the obvious reason—passion and desire and need all rolled into the vows they’d shared. Shane hadn’t wasted any time setting up her hospital room with an abundance of flowers and the hospital chaplain. She hadn’t needed or wanted a big wedding. Just him. The wedding was just the starting point, not the final destination.
Her recovery time was the only thing that delayed their new life together. She’d had multiple surgeries on her jaw, but eventually the physical pain and healing had subsided and made way for the emotional healing she knew needed to happen.
She’d never known what it felt like to not be a Valentine. To not have your life dissected by those who only wanted to see you fail. And the twenty-four-hour protection Shane had arranged to have outside her hospital room was a stark reminder where she came from and that the battle wasn’t over yet.
Their names had been cleared, but list was in the hands of multiple alphabet agencies, and there’d already been arrests. It had been her father who’d made the list and decided to turn his longtime friends, enemies, and competitors in to the authorities. But with Dominic Valentine out of the picture she was the next best substitute for their vengeance.
She and Shane had a choice to make—they could live the rest of their lives hidden—new identities and careers through Witness Protection. Or they could use the resources they had—the friends and contacts and favors to be called in—and they could let those who wanted her head on a platter know that what happened to her Uncle Angelo and his men was just a sampling of what would happen to them if anything happened to Rachel or anyone else she loved. She was off the table. No longer affiliated with the life that had made her family one of the most notorious in the country.
She didn’t know how the men Shane had served with had gotten the message across, but they’d struck fear into the hearts of those who might want to see her harmed.
No one cared about Rachel Quincy. She was just a regular woman—happily married to the man of her dreams with a design firm in the heart of the French Quarter.
Spanish moss blew lazily in the trees as she swung in the hammock in their backyard. Spring was a time of new birth—new beginnings—and she inhaled the sweet aroma of the honeysuckle blooming along the fence.
They’d come back to New Orleans. It was Shane’s home, but it had felt like home to her the moment she stepped foot in the city. It was alive with music and scents and cultures and food—always changing and growing. And tucked away in a small corner of the Garden District was their new home, majestic and romantic, not far from where her and Shane’s lives had first intersected.
“I figured I’d find you out here lazing the day away,” Shane said, coming through the French doors and onto the patio.
She couldn’t help but smile. Despite the danger that lurked inside him, there was a gentleness that soothed her soul as he walked toward her. He’d been working. He was dressed in black BDUs and a black T-shirt. And already she felt the slow spin in her stomach of attraction. She’d never get enough of him.
“You’re home early,” she said. “That’s a pleasant surprise.”
