Chapter 14
By the time she made it home, Clary was stiff and sore; every movement made her want to cry. She waited in the car until Talon raced around to her side to help her out. She had two cracked ribs, a bruised spleen, intestinal bruises, and more spots than she could count that just plain hurt. Her attacker hadn’t broken her arm, even though she’d taken a direct hit on it. It looked pretty ugly though. And the ribs, the doctor told her, would heal. She just had to take it easy and give them time.
Easier said than done, given her current circumstances. But at least she didn’t have to return to work. And apparently her boss was doing everything he could to help find who attacked her. It felt good to have people on her side.
Maybe she hadn’t been alone all this time. Maybe she’d just felt she had deserved to be alone.
She wanted to go into the living room and sit down, but Talon wasn’t listening to her. He ushered her upstairs and straight to bed. She had to admit, as soon as she managed to relax in a semiprone position, her body settling into the soft comforter, he was right.
He returned with a couple painkillers and a glass of water. “The doctor said two every four hours for the rest of today.”
Grateful, she swallowed them.
He grabbed a blanket and gently placed it over her. “I’d love it if you would sleep, so your body can heal, but, if you’re not ready to sleep, is there anything I can get you?”
“No, sleep is probably the best thing.” As he started to walk away, she called out to him, hating to hear the tremor in her voice. “Where are you going?”
He turned and walked back to the bed. “How about I get my laptop from downstairs, and I’ll come sit on the bed. We can talk until you can sleep.”
She smiled at him gratefully. “That sounds good.”
As he went back to the door, he asked, “Do you want some coffee? I can put on a pot while I’m downstairs.”
“Sure,” she said quietly. “I’ll probably stay awake long enough for that.” She smiled as he disappeared downstairs. She’d always considered herself a strong independent female, but there was a lot to be said for having someone take care of her.
In contrast her marriage had been more of a business relationship, now that she looked at it. They had had separate bank accounts and, in a way, even separate furniture, as he hadn’t liked her choices, nor she his. Although, when she had moved out, she’d left everything behind because she was moving into her and Chad’s house, which was already furnished.
Talon returned a few minutes later, carrying two full cups of coffee, his laptop tucked under one arm. Setting everything on the bedside table, he gently eased himself on the bed so as not to jostle her, leaning over to drop a soft kiss on her temple. “How are you feeling now?”
“A little bit better,” she admitted. “I ache in spots I didn’t even know existed.”
“You took quite a beating.” His tone was hard. “You can bet he’ll get his.”
“I just want him to stop,” she whispered.
“Any chance it’s the MacArthur guy?”
“Maybe.” She lay there with her eyes closed, trying to relive what she had seen. From a distance, the fear wasn’t quite so extreme. But she must have given her thoughts away because he reached down and gently stroked her shoulder.
“I’m not asking you to delve too deeply into that memory, but you must have gotten an impression of him.”
She thought about that for a few moments. “It’s possible. He had the same build.”
“Good enough.”
“What about the DNA?” she asked.
“We got it from you, although you probably don’t remember.”
She glanced down at her nails and realized they’d all been clipped. Not even so much cleaned out as clipped. “Good thing I’m not the kind to fuss about my nails.”
“I didn’t do too bad a job, did I?” he protested.
She smiled. “No. You can give me a manicure anytime.” She rolled over slowly so she was facing him, wincing as her body screamed in protest. When she could look at him again, he studied her with concern. She smiled. “I’m fine.” She knew her voice was drowsy, but every time she thought that maybe she could just relax and fall asleep, memories danced into her head and brought her back out again. “What do you want to talk about?” She would try to keep up her end of the conversation.
“You really quit your job today?”
“I really did.”
“Are you really serious about moving to Santa Fe with me?”
“You have a life here,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to take that away from you.”
“No, I don’t have a life here. You and Chad were my life. I lost you, and then I lost Chad. If I have you back again, I’m not letting you go.” She glared at him. “Stop trying to get out of it.”
He raised his eyebrows and stared at her. “I just want you to be sure.”
Her eyes drifted closed. “I’m sure.”
“And Chad’s house?”
“A friend of mine is a Realtor. When I’m feeling better, I’ll give her a call and have her come by. She’ll get an assessor out to give us a fair market value. Then I’ll have her put it on the market.”
“It’s a pretty fast decision,” he cautioned. “You could wait to make a decision on it for a while. Leave it empty if you wanted or rent it.”
“No, it’s not what Chad would want either. It’s time for me to move on.”
She could sense his calmness as she lay here. “It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it,” she said. “After Chad died, I didn’t know what to do. I told myself that I’d give it a year. Well, I’ve given it a year, and now I have a reason to make a change. So I think we should make that change happen,” she said brightly.
“And the furniture?”
“I guess if there’s anything we want to move to Santa Fe, we’d have to look at the logistics of doing that. Otherwise, what does one do when they have an entire houseful of furnishings to get rid of?”
“Well, there’s probably some charity that would come in and take whatever they could use. It’s also possible to sell the house as is, so all the furniture goes with it.”
She thought about that. “That’s not a bad idea. We could just take a few pieces we wanted, for Chad’s sake, and leave the rest for somebody else.”
“Talk to your friend in the real estate business about the issue.”
“I can do that.”
“What will you do when you get to Santa Fe?”
“Nothing,” she said promptly.
He chuckled. “That was a really fast answer.”
“It’s a very fast answer but a well-thought-out response. I would really like to have a break for a while. It’s been a pretty tough couple years. Santa Fe will be different. I want time to adjust and to figure out my next step. Maybe return to my art. Full-time this go-round.”
“You might not need to do anything,” he said. “This house will get you a lot of money. If it’s invested, you’ll have a decent income from it.”
“That’s fine. I’m not sure how I feel about being a housewife.” Her words slipped out as she yawned, the sound loud as the stress started to waste away, and the drugs took over. “But you know I’m always willing to try new things. So that could work out really well.” She yawned again a second time and murmured, “I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Sleep,” he said gently. “It’s what your body needs.”
She reached out a hand, instinctively looking for that security of knowing he was there. When his fingers closed around hers, she let the last of her restraints fall away and allowed sleep to claim her.
Housewife, huh?
Talon grinned at the sleeping beauty beside him. Sleeping beauty, except for the tear-stained cheeks and the visible bruises. But he wouldn’t think about that right now. He was so damn glad she had survived her attack. And he really liked the idea of her moving in with him. His house was huge, and though there was a lot of work still to be done, there was no rush to finish the upgrades. The house was very livable as is.
And neither was there a rush for her to find a job. This house would be an astronomical sale. And with that kind of money, she didn’t have to do anything, maybe ever again. He was happy for her. This way, if she did decide to do something, he hoped it would be more of her artwork. She was incredibly talented. This was a good time for her to resume her craft.
He settled back to work on the emails flying into his in-box and to catch up on the news. It would take days, if not a week, to get DNA results, even with a rush put on it and extra fees paid. That wouldn’t help them right now. He was more concerned about the asshole’s threat that he would just shoot her next time. Because that was too easy.
His phone buzzed. He pulled it out to see a text from Laszlo.
Call me if you can.
Talon hit Talk and waited until the call went through. “What have you found out?”
“First, how is she?”
“Two cracked ribs and multiple bruises. Some intestinal bruising, including her spleen and liver. She’ll be a bit of a mess for the next few days.” He spoke quietly so as not to wake her. “We’re in her room. She’s sleeping right now.”
“Good. The video cameras did show a black Porsche came in,” Laszlo said. “It dropped somebody off, but, when the guy took off, it was in a blue Audi.”
“So,” Talon continued, “we have two vehicles currently in play in San Diego, the blue Audi and the black Porsche. The asshole who attacked Clary was dropped off by whoever was driving the black Porsche and expected to take the Audi out of there.”
“Yes,” Laszlo said. “The cameras caught him coming in and waiting to nab her, but she saw her boss right away. Then she came back for her purse, and the boss goes on into the offices, and the guy nabs her then. What he did to her is all there on the video too.”
“Good, we’ll need it for the court case.”
“Or he might accidentally not make it to the courts.” Laszlo’s voice was hard. “I saw him beat the crap out of her. If another vehicle hadn’t come in just then, I don’t know what he would have done to her.”
“A hair-trigger temper?”
“Yes, definitely. It wasn’t too bad, then, all of a sudden, when she hurt him, he just lost it.”
“Any chance of getting a facial ID on him?”
“The cops have seen the video as well. One of them seems to think he knows who the guy is. He’s trying to find the name now, and we’re sending the images out to all stations to get a BOLO out on him.”
“As long as they’re on the lookout for this guy and pick him up and understand he’s armed and dangerous, then it’s all good.” There was silence on the phone for a moment, then Talon asked, “What do you think his next move will be?”
“Honestly? I think he’ll make an attempt on the house.”
Talon agreed. “Better come back here then. I might need some backup.”
“You don’t know it, but I’m already here.” Laszlo chuckled. “I’m in the back, hiding behind the fences while I talk to you. I’ll do a scout around. Make sure there’s no Audi parked within a couple blocks of here. Watch your back. She’s already taken a huge beating. Any more could put her out permanently.”
Talon hung up and thought about that. This guy could get into the house either with keys or through the windows, and there wasn’t a whole lot Talon could do about it. Not in a house this big with minimal security features. He was one person. He couldn’t watch every entrance. So, what he really needed to do was make sure he could defend them. Laszlo was doing a search outside and would slowly narrow that perimeter down. But, unless Talon could get a warning off to Laszlo in time, there wouldn’t be any backup coming to help Talon and Clary.
Just then he thought he heard something in the kitchen. He hopped off the bed and headed to the bedroom door to listen. He pulled out his phone and sent Laszlo a quick text. Intruder in the house now?
Can’t see anything.
Downstairs, kitchen.
Coming around.
Talon glanced around the bedroom, looking for a place to hide. It was obvious this guy would be coming up to the master bedroom because that’s where Clary was. Talon could hide behind the door, but that was hardly ideal. What he didn’t want to do was have this guy open the door and fire a shot at Clary.
Just then there was a creak on the stairs.
He swore silently and sent another message to Laszlo, stepping well behind the door so the intruder couldn’t flatten him with it. He reached down and pulled a knife from his prosthetic leg that he had temporarily placed there. He had planned to talk to Kat about something permanent. But he’d take what he could right now. At least he had a weapon.
The door opened only four inches. He waited, cantering himself, knowing what would happen next. He kept his eye on the door’s edge. The gunman would have to open it farther to line up his shot with the bed.
But there was no way in hell he would get a shot off. Not while Talon was here. He waited and nothing happened. He had his phone in his hand, checking for messages from Laszlo. Then he heard another sound downstairs. He froze. Had the intruder gone back down, or was that Laszlo coming back? Shit. What he didn’t want was to have the intruder go after Laszlo.
Just then the door was nudged ever-so-slightly. And damn it if the tip of a gun barrel didn’t come slowly around the corner. Clary was still out of the line of fire, but Talon needed more of the gun to appear, more of the gun for him to grab, so he waited.
The door opened slightly more. It was enough that the gun lined up on the woman of Talon’s heart, and he jumped. With his prosthetic hand, he grabbed the weapon and ripped it out of the man’s hand. Yanking the man’s arm, Talon slammed the door shut hard against his forearm. The man groaned on the other side.
But Talon had the door open again and was already kicking the gunman. He heard a commotion downstairs, but he was so focused on pounding this asshole’s face into the ground that he didn’t hear the shouts or the cries.
The man beneath him stopped moving. Talon stopped and leaned back for a moment to assess.
He checked and confirmed the gunman was unconscious. It was MacArthur.
There were still sounds of a fight downstairs, and he realized MacArthur hadn’t come alone. He took the man’s belt from around his waist and made quick work of tying his hands behind his back. Then he restrained the man’s feet by tying his shoelaces behind his back and then to his hands. When he was sure the gunman wasn’t a further danger to Clary, he dragged him to the top of the stairs.
With the gun in his hand, he slipped down to the first landing. He took a look around the corner to see Laszlo fighting hard. He raced into the room, and a shot rang out.
Talon placed the gun to the intruder’s head. “Stop.”
Slowly Laszlo, breathing hard, straightened and slammed his fist into the gunman’s chin. The man groaned and slid to his knees before falling over sideways. Laszlo ripped the gun out of the man’s hand.
Talon looked at him. “Are you hit?”
Laszlo shook his head. “No, no, I’m fine.” He bent over for a moment to catch his breath and motioned at the intruder. “There were two of them?”
“It was always a possibility, but we figured there was only one trigger man at this point. I’ve got the second one upstairs.” Talon reached over and pulled the guy’s scarf off the lower part of his face and the baseball cap off his head. And he stopped and stared. “Who the hell’s this guy?”
Laszlo reached down and pulled the man’s shirt away from his neck and upper arms. “This is the asshole who attacked Clary.”
Her scratches, her fight for her life, were obvious on his body. As were the freckles she’d seen …
Talon shot Laszlo a hard look. “I’ll go retrieve the other one so we have them both in the same place. I really want to just beat this guy into the ground, like he beat her. But I think I like the idea of him in a cage better.”
He stepped over the prone man and headed upstairs. Thankfully the man he’d taken out was still unconscious. He pulled him around and dragged him downstairs to where Laszlo stood over the other man. With both of the men together, they took pictures of their faces and injuries while they tried to identify what the hell was going on, who the second man was, and why he along with MacArthur were after Clary.
“Do you get the feeling these two were just hired thugs?”
“You mean, the theory that we’re being played? That somebody is putting all this into motion just to get to us? Oh, yeah.”
Having called the cops and gathering the two men still unconscious at his feet, Talon said, “I’ll go check on Clary.”
He took the stairs two at a time, hating that sick feeling in his stomach at how close these assholes had come. If he and Laszlo hadn’t been here, he knew for sure Clary would be dead. Even knowing they had the two men secured, his stomach was still knotted as he pushed the door open and checked on her. She continued to sleep soundly.
He walked through the room just to make sure it was safe. Walking over to the balcony, he stepped out. A shadow was his only warning.
Instinctively he threw up his arm to ward off the blow that came out of nowhere. He fell to his knees as he tried to roar a scream of warning for Laszlo. But a second chop to his throat had him falling backward, almost incapable of making a sound. He reached for the gunman’s arm twisting, pulling, fighting—not only for his life but for Clary’s. And a hard fight it was.
A scream ripped through the air from behind him. He didn’t know what she had used to hit the gunman with, but he stood there for a long moment bending over sideways, as if trying to recover from the blow. And then in a move that startled them both, he jumped over the balcony railing to the bushes below.
Talon moved to jump after him, but Clary cried out, “No.”
He stopped and looked at her in confusion. That’s when she said, “You’ve been shot.”
He stared at her, and then the pain hit. He swore but could hear Laszlo yelling from down below.
“I’m on him.”
Relieved to think maybe this guy wouldn’t get away, he placed the towel Clary had raced to get over the hole in the shoulder of his good arm. “I have to go downstairs. We have two men unconscious. I can’t take the chance of either of them getting away.”
“I’m coming with you,” Clary said, “and you have to go carefully.”
He headed down the stairs, swearing as every step jarred his wound. He was angrier at himself for having gotten shot and not having caught the goddamn third man. And there was something about that confrontation that bothered him. But he didn’t get a chance to say anything. Hearing a noise in the kitchen, he froze, sliding her behind him protectively and out of the way.
He peered around the corner of the kitchen but saw nothing, nobody. Keeping her with him, he raced through the kitchen and around to the other side where it looped to the dining room and back around to the living room again. As they crossed to the dining room, he heard two hard spits. Gunfire. Blood splatted the wall in front of him. Making sure Clary stayed out of sight, he raced to the living room window to see a man jumping into a blue car and disappearing.
He turned around to see Clary, staring. She cried out, “Did he double back inside the house? He killed them.”
Talon rushed over, and, sure enough, both gunmen sported a bullet in their foreheads.
“Where’s Laszlo?” she demanded.
“He went after him.”
A door slammed behind them, and Laszlo raced toward them from the kitchen. “I lost him,” Laszlo seethed.
“That’s because he snuck around and came back inside. He shot our two intruders,” Talon snapped. “And I missed him too.”
Grim, the two men stared at each other.
“So this isn’t over, is it?” Clary cried out, staring at the two of them.
Talon turned to look at her. She was swaying against the doorjamb. Her body had already taken too much abuse for the day. But he knew it would be a longer day yet. They had the police to deal with, and he had a bullet hole to get stitched up.
“No, it’s not.” He shook his head. “But it’s over for the moment.”