Home > Fiancé by Friday (The Weekday Brides #3)(71)

Fiancé by Friday (The Weekday Brides #3)(71)
Author: Catherine Bybee

“Still convinced he’s not coming in guns blazing?”

“Not unless his motivation has changed. Only way his motivation will have changed is if he thinks we’ve ID’d him.”

The wind blew around the giant pine above him and made it creak.

Damn wind.

The dark sky didn’t even sport a sliver of a moon. It wasn’t too long ago he was looking up into the stars and sharing his childhood dreams with Gwen. He hated leaving her behind. He’d hate having her here more.

“Think you could nod off for an hour?” Rick asked.

“I might.”

“I’ll pull back, and watch your back.”

Neil tucked back into the rock while Rick moved into position. An hour of sleep here and hour there was all any of them ever managed while in the field. The night before, Neil didn’t even get that. Between his worry and need over Gwen and internal debate that Rick might know more than he was telling, Neil didn’t chance sleep. Yet it became increasingly apparent that Rick was as much a target as he was. If Rick was behind any of this, he’d have made a move on him long before now. He needed to trust and God knew he needed to sleep.

They ducked under the wind created by the blades of the helicopter. Billy and Rick hoisted Linden’s dead weight to the men on board the chopper. On board they pulled Mickey, who was limping but carrying himself, in with them.

Mac twisted toward the fireball they’d just left. His ears rang from the blast that took out his men. His back and head took a blow with his fall but he was otherwise OK. Alive.

Rick pulled him into the chopper and they were instantly airborne.

Mouths were moving but Neil couldn’t hear what they said. Only ringing and the hum of the chopper. His chest ached and he coughed for what felt like an hour.

Billy knelt on the floor beside Linden while the two men Neil didn’t know cut away Linden’s clothes and exposed the blast wound in his gut and thigh. Blood was everywhere.

Neil grabbed the army blanket someone had draped over him and shoved it in Linden’s side.

“Don’t you f**king die.”

But the color in Linden’s face had gone stone white and before they could apply a field dressing his eyes lost focus and he took his last breath.

The chopper listed, and Neil had to hold on or risk falling.

The silence in his ears made his eyes focus.

Billy hung his head beside Linden. Rick’s expression was equal parts rage and remorse. Mickey was doubled over.

Neil managed to get to Mickey’s side and met the man’s eyes. Neil lifted his hands in question and Mickey shook his head.

That’s when Neil saw the shard of wood sticking from Mickey’s groin. The bleeding was minimal, and they knew to keep the object in place until medical could see where it landed. He shook his head toward Mickey as if to remind him not to tug out the wood. Mickey was known to act against reason on occasion. Didn’t seem he had the desire to do so now.

Neil slumped on the side of the chopper and hacked up a lung.

Blake had his secretary arrange his ride to the airport in the morning. He was headed to Colorado himself to trace Neil’s steps. Everything had been too quiet for his taste and not hearing from his bodyguard or his sister weighed on him.

He no longer worried that someone was listening in on his conversations. There weren’t any bugs detected and no one had left any dead birds lying around in days. Carter had flown back to Sacramento with the promise to make the phone calls to DC if need be.

Blake just hoped that Neil and Gwen had come to their senses and weren’t running around with guns cocked and loaded.

He pulled off his tie and reached for the phone, intending to give Sam her nightly call.

The phone rang under his fingers, and made him jump.

Get a grip, Blake.

“Hello?” he answered when he didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID.

“Mr. Harrison?”

Blake tossed his tie to the side of the bed and sat. “This is.”

“I’m sorry to call you so late, Mr. Harrison. Even more sorry for why I’m calling.”

Blake stopped midway through toeing off his shoes.

“Who is this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Bernard, the manager over here at First Class Services.”

“The car service?”

“Right. Right. That’s us.”

Blake’s anxiety dropped and his shoes fell to the floor one at a time. “What can I do for you, Bernard?” And why was he calling him now?

“We received the order for your car request in the morning.”

“Is there a problem with tomorrow?”

“No, not at all, sir. We’ll have a car ready for you.”

Blake pinched one button after the other on his shirt and then moved to the cuff links. “Then why are you calling?”

Bernard was breathing a little fast, obviously worked up over something. Blake wanted to tell him that whatever his worries were, they had nothing on his. Instead, he just waited while the man started to apologize.

“I’m sorry. We here at First Class Services are so very sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I checked to see who your driver was earlier in the week. We try to keep them consistent whenever possible. As you know, we take great pride in the privacy of our customers. And you are a very valued customer—”

Blake rolled his eyes. “Bernard, can you please cut the crap and tell me why you’ve called? I have a busy day tomorrow.” And at this rate, he’d still be on the phone with the poor sap.

   
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