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Holding on Tighter, Page 35

Shayla Black


  “Heath! You shouldn’t be here. How did he catch you?”

  “He’s exchanging his life for yours,” Myles barged in. “He’s going to give you some instructions. I suggest you follow them or you and your loved ones will meet a similar fate.”

  Jolie searched Heath’s face for the truth. Heath didn’t hide from her. He merely nodded, so bloody sad that he wouldn’t spend any more days or nights with this fascinating woman, see how they could have raised children or balanced their lives and grown old together.

  “You can’t do that! You can’t surrender to him and let—” She shook her head, unwilling to finish that sentence.

  He bent and softly kissed her lips. “It’s done. I’m at peace because you’ll be safe. But you have to follow my instructions to ensure that.” If Myles didn’t uphold his end of the bargain, Heath would fight him to the death. Myles might have a weapon but Heath had superior hand-to-hand combat skills—and they both knew it. “Once you leave here, keep walking. Don’t stop until you’ve reached safety. Do you understand? Don’t turn around or come back or try to be heroic. I’ve lived hard and well, and I leave knowing I kept the person I love most safe.”

  Her lip trembled and the stoic woman who almost never cried looked on the verge of tears. “I can’t . . . I don’t want to live without you. I love you.”

  “Then respect my last wishes.” He brushed another kiss across her lips, aching to hold on to this sweetness for eternity. “Once you’re safe and back at Betti, forget all this. Don’t seek revenge. Don’t tell anyone about Myles or whatever you may know about his past misdeeds. All you know is that your husband skipped out on you and hasn’t come back.” Because he had little doubt Myles would dispose of his body in some thorough manner to ensure no one ever found it.

  “Then he’s getting away with everything he’s ever done. The murders, the violence.”

  “But he’s sparing you. That’s all I want. Take the money I gave you for Betti and accomplish great things. Do that for me. You’ve always dreamed big. Now soar high.”

  The tears that welled in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks. “I can’t lose you. I won’t just give you up and walk away.”

  “Then we’ll die together, and that will be the biggest regret of my life. I already carry such terrible guilt for allowing Anna to die when she trusted me to keep her safe. Please don’t add to my sorrow. Grant me this last wish.”

  Jolie looked speechless for once in her life. “Hold me.”

  Heath looked to Myles with a raised brow. “Just once.”

  The man sighed and trudged in their direction. “I’m so glad Camille isn’t this emotional.” But he uncuffed Jolie, still keeping the gun trained on her, inches from her temple.

  Briefly, Heath thought about jumping the man and wresting the gun from him. He stood a fighting chance of taking the weapon from Myles. But he also would most likely pull the trigger first and kill Jolie instantly.

  Heath backed up a step, waiting patiently until Jolie was free. Once Myles had pocketed the key and wrenched the cuffs off her wrists, she stood on shaky legs. Heath charged directly for her, then scooped her up in his arms, holding her tight and lifting her from the ground. He slanted his mouth across her soft lips, delving deep. Their last kiss. There wouldn’t be another. His three minutes were up and, given his former partner’s loud sigh, Myles’s patience was at an end.

  He tasted her desperation, her love, her sorrow and devotion, her confusion, and her wish that she could stop time and figure out some way to free them both. Heath shared her sentiment but anything that risked her was a nonstarter for him. So now he had to be strong and send her to safety, watch her leave, then face his end. Even if the Edgington posse was right outside the door, they probably wouldn’t be able to save him. Even if Heath fought back, Myles wouldn’t tarry.

  Odd to think that in less than two minutes Jolie would be a widow.

  With another taste of her lips and one last squeeze of her body against his, he set her down and eased back, putting space between them. “Go. Live well. Be happy. Stay safe. For me.”

  She reached out for him, but Heath couldn’t give her what she wanted so he took another step back and looked at Myles. “Let her go. It’s time.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Rule for success number twenty:

  Never be afraid to commit when the circumstance is right.

  JOLIE couldn’t stop looking back at Heath through her watery tears for another last glance. She’d found love. She finally knew what it meant to be accepted, adored, understood. Whatever the reason Heath had chosen to invest in Betti without telling her, it hadn’t been to undermine her. Maybe he had wanted to surprise her. Maybe he had sought to help her in a way that wouldn’t leave her feeling guilty or beholden. Being hung up on his reason seemed ridiculous now. He’d done it for her. And she regretted like hell that she hadn’t simply believed in him. He wasn’t like anyone her mother had ever shacked up with. Heath had only ever tried to lift her up.

  The consequences for allowing her past to barge in and her hang-ups to come between them would probably be fatal.

  “Go on.” Myles prodded her in the back with his gun.

  After he’d cuffed Heath to a giant piece of machinery bolted into the concrete floor, the bastard had urged her toward the door. She stumbled, stalling for time, trying to find some way to save the man who had sacrificed everything for her, the husband who would bury her heart with him.

  How crushing that it had taken this terrible tragedy to finally crack her cynical shell.

  If she survived this day, she intended to open herself up to new people and new experiences. She would talk to her mother about the scars the woman’s romances had left on her childhood, the respect it had killed . . . and the new understanding she had about how love could make a person do crazy things. They would heal. She would tell her father to leave her alone once and for all. She would guide Karis as much as the headstrong girl needed, but acknowledge that her sister had a pretty good head on her shoulders. Jolie would run Betti with every ounce of her passion and scale to the business heights she’d always dreamed. She would eventually learn to laugh again, savor life. She would hope that she and Heath had created life. Above all, she would live.

  But she would rather do all that with Heath by her side. And she would never forget him or simply give up without doing something to save him now.

  With one last look over her shoulder, her husband lifted his hand in a final good-bye. Jolie blew him a kiss and tried to stay strong. She didn’t have time to wallow in grief. She had to get clever and save him.

  Then Myles pushed her into the ante office, around the corner, out of Heath’s sight.

  She feared she would never see him again.

  “Stop pushing me.”

  “Move faster. Knowing your husband, he didn’t walk into this slaughterhouse without some backup plan. I’d like to finish my part quickly and be gone.”

  In other words, kill Heath.

  “I can persuade him not to tell anyone about what happened with Lucy and Anna and—”

  “No. I’m afraid there’s a bit more to it than that. Oh, he might stay silent for a time, long enough to secure you and your loved ones. But he believes too much in God, country, and doing the right thing. He would come after me someday—probably soon. It’s better if our battle to the finish ends in one tiny bang rather than an epic war that drags our remaining loved ones into the fray. I simply want to bury my past, return to my job, my wife, and the business of forgetting all the rest. Now, out you go.”

  He held open the door to the parking lot of the big factory and gave her another nudge. Jolie grabbed the frame so he couldn’t close the door.

  “Let go or I’ll be forced to shoot you. Think of how disappointed he’ll be to see that his sacrifice was so wasted. He loves you. Of that I’m sure. Pity. You two probably made a wonderful couple.” He shrugged dismissively. “I’ll give you until the count of three to take your hands off
the door and let him die in peace.”

  Jolie swallowed. Her thoughts raced. She wanted to honor Heath and his wishes . . . but she refused to walk away while he died. If she perished trying to save him, then she would leave this earth in peace and meet him on the other side with an apology and a heart full of love.

  Myles glowered. “One . . . two . . .”

  “I’m going.” Jolie did her best to sound dejected. She made a show of slowly releasing the doorframe, of fighting her tears, and bowed her head with slumped shoulders—a pose of defeat.

  “It’s better this way,” Myles assured.

  Jolie violently disagreed but waited for the right moment. As he reached for the rusty door handle, she readied herself to strike.

  Then a big boom followed by a spewing plume of fire burst across the lot, on the far side of the roof. The ground shook, making her stumble back. Myles jerked around with a curse, obviously trying to figure out what the hell was happening.

  She used that moment to ram her knee into Beaker’s balls as hard as she could. Down to his knees he dropped, clutching his genitals. He looked pale and sick, instantly sweaty. But when she went to kick him again, he grabbed her ankle in a surprisingly harsh grip. Then he pointed the gun in her face with a snarl of evil that had her wanting to back up.

  “Stupid, stupid bitch! Why are people always too stubborn to accept my mercy?”

  She shoved at his elbow, disrupting his aim, then grabbed him by the hair and pounded his head into the door. “Fuck your mercy.”

  He wrenched free and snarled up at her, eyes glowing with hate, teeth bared. “I will make you pay, bitch.”

  Before he could pounce, shots rang out in the distance. Bullets pinged off the metal structure and concrete floor inches from Myles’s face. He let her go and rolled away.

  Jolie jerked and dived inside for cover. The shots had come from behind her. Instinctively, she turned, wondering who was shooting and whose side they were on. Maybe it was Heath’s backup Beaker had mentioned.

  “I will come back for you,” he vowed. “I’ll end your life and I’ll make it hurt.”

  Then he shoved her outside again, slammed the door between them, and locked it. On the far side of the warehouse, the flames still shot high. Smoke spewed up. The bullets behind her had stopped completely.

  She darted toward the fire. Maybe the explosion had blown a hole in the wall so she could get inside. Something. She had to find a way inside and help Heath. Impossible to dial 911 without a phone. It would take them too long to arrive anyway.

  Before she rounded the corner of the warehouse, a man she’d never met melted out of the shadows. “I’m Tyler Murphy. Your husband called my buddies to get him out of a tight spot. There are three of us. Well, four, including that sniper asshole, One-Mile. He came along at the last minute. We’ve all got a position around the exterior perimeter and—”

  “We have maybe thirty seconds before Myles kills Heath.”

  “Tell me anything about the inside of this place that might help.”

  “Heath is cuffed to some machinery in the middle of the factory floor. He’s a sitting duck. If someone can aim a round through one of the broken windows . . .”

  “Yeah, I must be out of practice,” he grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Three little boys will eat up your time at the shooting range. I’m glad I didn’t hit you but pissed as hell I didn’t whack that Brit. Sorry.” He pulled out a radio. “Can anyone get a view inside one of the windows?”

  “Roger that. Looking now,” a voice crackled over the radio.

  “Ten-four, Logan.”

  Jolie appreciated that they meant to do something but she feared it wouldn’t be fast enough. She looked around—for a nearby window to jump in, a way to pick the lock on the door.

  Then she caught sight of someone hauling ass in a big black truck toward them. He screeched to a stop, window down. “I just found out what was going down and raced over here. What’s the sitch?”

  Stone. Thank goodness. “I think I know what to do. Please trust me. Can I have your truck?”

  The former ex-con shifted into Park and scooted into the passenger’s seat. “All yours.”

  Jolie slid behind the wheel. “I hope you’re not too attached to this vehicle. You might want to get out. This will be dangerous.”

  Stone put on his seat belt and shrugged. “I’m good.”

  She didn’t acknowledge him. Her sole focus was on Heath. “Then hold on.”

  Heart thumping wildly, she stomped on the gas. The truck leapt into action, burning rubber before surging forward. Jolie drove around the side of the building, where the wall was hopefully compromised by fire. She had to hope that she remembered the layout of the factory and that she wasn’t too late. But she couldn’t think of another way to save him.

  As soon as she found the fiery side of the warehouse, she spotted a wall crumbling under the heat and gunned the vehicle toward it.

  A crunch of metal and a jolt told her they’d made impact. A sheet of metal blocked her view for a terrifying second. Hoping she’d made the right call, she fought the urge to close her eyes and wait for the danger to pass. Instead, she forced herself to stay in the moment, relieved when the steel siding fell away and she could see out the windshield again.

  Twenty feet in front of her she spotted Myles bearing down on Heath, gun in hand, pointing the weapon directly at her husband’s head.

  Her heart stopped—but she didn’t. Jolie laid on the horn and the gas at once, doing her best to startle or distract the rogue agent. But he didn’t flinch.

  In seconds, he would have to choose between ending Heath or saving himself.

  She drove closer and closer, fearing she would be too late. Her only consolation would be that she would end Myles, too. And she would have avenged the man she loved.

  He made his choice, stood his ground. In the final second, he said something to Heath, then tightened his finger on the trigger.

  Jolie heard the retort of a gun reverberate through the air. Her throat tightened. She watched Heath in horror, holding her breath until the moment she had to watch his blood splatter before he crumpled to the ground, gone to her forever.

  Instead, Myles collapsed in a heap, the gun falling from his lifeless hand.

  Her husband was still standing, tall and very much alive.

  Stomping on the brakes, Jolie threw the car in Park and leapt out of the vehicle, rushing over to Myles. Stone and Tyler were right behind her, as was another man with dark hair and intense blue eyes taking in the scene as he vaulted through a window. Seconds later, another man with a chiseled face, dark aviators, and a high-powered scoped rifle in his hands dashed through the hole in the side of the building.

  “Stop!” they all shouted at once to her.

  “Love, no!” Heath added his growl to the mix.

  Jolie wasn’t listening to any of them. She had to know if Myles was dead.

  She had to know if the threat was over.

  When she reached the traitorous spy, she fell to her knees and looked into his sightless eyes. Blood pooled from under his head. Someone had planted a bullet right between his eyes with military precision.

  Myles Beaker would never hurt anyone again. She finally exhaled. Then sent the rest of the crowd a shaky nod.

  The stranger carrying the rifle cocked his head and studied Myles’s body with a clinical gaze. “Nailed him right where I wanted to on the first shot. Damn, that makes me happy.” He moved his big combat boot out of the way just before the pool of blood spread under his feet. “God, I love hollow-point rounds. Pinprick at the front. Gaping hole at the back. Perfect for taking out assholes.”

  Who was this guy?

  “Shut up, Pierce.” The blue-eyed man gritted his teeth.

  “Don’t be an asshole, Logan. And never call me Pierce again,” he growled in return.

  Jolie barely listened to their squabbling. With a sob, she reached into Myles’s pockets, frantically searching for the h
andcuff key. She had to get Heath free, feel his arms around her now, see for herself that he was all right. When she finally extracted it with shaking fingers, she jumped to her feet and closed the distance between them.