Nine p.m. rolled around. Nick stood in the middle of Popp Bandstand, feeling the weight of his SIG in his hand. Any minute now, Clifford would show up with a squad of goons and shoot him.
But not before he put a bullet between the criminal DA’s eyes first.
As if his thoughts conjured the crook up, Clifford strolled into the spill of light from the top of the dome accompanied by two thugs, one at each shoulder. It was still cold, so no one else occupied the park. No one would witness whatever happened next.
No one would see if Walter Clifford had him killed.
“Stay there,” Nick insisted. “That’s close enough.”
“You don’t tell me what to do, Navarro,” the older man insisted. “Give me the evidence.”
“You’ll leave Sasha Porter and her daughter alone?” Nick hid his gun just behind his thigh, waiting for the right moment.
“Are you really that stupid? That bitch has seen whatever evidence her stupid lug of a husband dug up. She’s a witness. A loose end. She needs to be six feet under. So does the kid. We don’t need any more brats in foster care. I’ll be doing the girl—and the state—a favor.”
Nick gritted his teeth. Only one kind of man could kill a three-year-old. Talk about someone who needed to be six feet under… “Then I’m not giving you shit.”
The DA laughed, the sound scratchy and mean. “That’s fine. Dan?” He looked at the guy on his right. “Shoot the motherfucker. He should pay for raping my niece anyway. What a shame that he wanted revenge for his conviction so badly and drew his weapon on an elected official and two off-duty officers.”
“Yes, sir. Between the pecs or between the eyes?” the cop asked.
“How about one of each for good measure?” Clifford gave Nick a smarmy smile of triumph. “Bye. I’ll send your buddy’s widow and her kid to be with you soon, too.”
“You might want to hold up. I don’t have the video with me, and if you shoot me now you’ll never see it.”
“I’ll take that chance.” The man looked at his cohort. “Do it now.”
Dan raised his weapon and aimed. Nick hit the deck and rolled behind a pillar, his heart racing as he glanced around the column of stone and tried to line up for a clean shot at Clifford’s head.
“Nobody move!” a different voice shouted into the chaos.
Nick froze. Who the hell had crashed their mutual murder party?
“FBI,” that same voice called out. “Walter Clifford, you’re under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, solicitation of murder, tampering with evidence, and corruption. Hands up. Now!”
“Fuck you!” said the old man.
“You’re surrounded,” the federal agent warned.
Nick peeked around the column again. The FBI already had Dan and Clifford’s other hired goon in cuffs. But the DA had raised his own weapon and pointed it at the nearest agent’s head. “I’m not going down.”
“You are, you bastard!” said a woman. Her familiar voice turned his veins to ice. “It’s over.”
Sasha?
Nick leapt to his feet and saw her emerge into a corner of the light with a big soldier-type he recognized as Xander’s buddy Logan. Goddamn it. Why the hell had she come here and put herself in danger?
For him. Because she loved him. Because she refused to lose him. She’d risked herself, her future with her daughter, and all her precious tomorrows to save him.
Damn it, if Nick didn’t love her even more. But he wished like hell she’d stayed at the scuzzy motel.
Clifford yanked the gun in her direction and aimed. “Die, bitch.”
“No!” Nick shouted and leapt to his feet, gun ready, determined to somehow pull the trigger and end Clifford’s miserable existence before he could fire Sasha’s way.
To his shock, she raised a weapon of her own and pulled the trigger. Everyone froze as the report of gunfire rang in the air.
Clifford clutched his neck and staggered back. Blood spurted. He gurgled when he tried to breathe. Then he fell with a last gasp.
The FBI leapt to action to secure Clifford and surround Sasha.
Nick leapt over the railing of the bandstand and darted across the grass. “Sasha. Baby!”
She dropped the gun and fought her way from the cluster of agents to run toward him. “Nick! Oh my… I’ve been so worried.”
The second he enveloped her in his arms, he gripped her tight, feeling her heartbeat, her warmth, her love. He was never letting this woman go.
“This nightmare is over, thank God. Where the hell did you get a gun?” he barked.
“I still have my Louisiana driver’s license. I’d previously taken a gun safety class with my dad and passed. After you left the motel room, I woke and talked to Xander. Then I ran to the sporting goods store and bought this Baretta tonight. I wasn’t going to sit around like a damsel in distress.”
“But I wanted you to, damn it. Don’t ever run off like that again,” he chided.
“Then don’t you ever run off on me, either. I’ll never let you leave me behind to face life alone.” She shook her head. “I’ll always be by your side.”
“But I wanted to save you, baby. That was my plan. That’s why you came to me.” He grabbed her arms. “You should have let me give you that much.”
“At the expense of your life? You knew that was the likely outcome.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “That’s not important.”
“It is to me! What I really need more than your protection is your strength, support, and love. We need to save each other.”
She was right, and he couldn’t have found a better woman for him if he’d searched the whole fucking planet. “I love you.”
Nick saw the swarm of agents watching them. Reporters were beginning to appear around the perimeter of the scene, cameras rolling. He overheard swatches of their lead-in, talking about the leaked video and the warrant that had already been out for Clifford’s arrest and speculating that Nick’s conviction—among others—would likely be overturned.
“It is, and I’m so grateful. But you and I? We’re just beginning.”
“Yeah.” Nick swallowed. “When you first knocked on my door, I only asked you to give me your body for four weeks. I’m thinking now that I need you to give me your heart for a lifetime.”
She took his hand and faced the waiting agents. “You’ve got a deal.”