And she’d been absolutely furious.
He’d lain there for less than fifteen minutes when his bladder announced that it was taking over and it didn’t care where he was, or what shape he was in. He pulled himself to his feet, complaining and promising himself he would exact revenge on everyone he’d met since he’d taken this assignment, and that included Randy.
That was when he discovered the blood in the urine.
It wasn’t the first time. Usually it meant that he’d taken a shot that had busted something free inside. But it healed, it always did. Oddly, his crotch didn’t exactly hurt, so it wasn’t direct damage to his honeymoon.
He was able to make it back to the mattress and collapse. This time, he was able to walk, if bent over, so that was progress. It also meant falling into bed from a much higher altitude, and he clutched the extra pillow to hold against his stomach.
There isn’t going to be much of a honeymoon. It’ll be a miracle if Dani and I live to see the farce through. Once her father shows up it’ll all be over, the most public execution in mob history. Benny would gather together all the greats and near-greats and parade that poor fool in front of them all and BANG!
The only real worry was Dani. Though it might have been safe to say that David was at greater risk where Katie was concerned, Luke was fast reaching the point where he just didn’t care. The man was insane. Sure, he had reasons, even sociopathic homicidal maniacs had their “reasons”, but nuts is nuts. David was nuts.
And Luke wasn’t in love with David.
It keeps coming down to that. Love. He tried to berate himself, to make himself stop loving her. It did no good to be in love with a woman like her. She was too wrapped up in her family to see anything else. And even if she did, she’d never trust any man with her heart. She’d never be able to give him what he needed.
Only he was starting to revise the list of what it was he thought he needed. Maybe it wasn’t the suburban housewife with 2.3 kids and a minivan with stick figures on the back window. Maybe the kind of woman he needed in his life had a rather precise kick. Who would show you that amazing flash of leg and then put your lights out before you were even aware her foot had left the floor. And then there was the perfectly executed punch that she’d thrown. No holding back there. She’d broken that guy’s nose on the first hit, and had him down out cold in the follow-through. That was sheer poetry. He could only imagine her precision with small arms, and got hard just thinking about what she could probably do with a knife.
Watching her was like watching a deadly ballet. She was a precise dancer who broke bones and shattered teeth in her pirouettes.
Damn, she was beautiful. No, she’d never be a soccer mom, but as a lover she was intense. Each time they were together was as much battle as lovemaking. He remembered how she’d pinned him, how she’d fought him, and then how she’d melted in his arms. Such highly toned muscles. Such deadly precision. Making love to her was like... like that old story of riding a tiger. You’re probably safe if you don’t let go. Safer.
The hell with whatever dreams of suburban bliss and 401Ks that he’d been entertaining ever since his friends had started to marry and settle down. There was more to life than stability. And if he ever got out of this... well, they’d find something else. Something that wasn’t budgets and scheduled dates. They could be...
They could be dead.
He sighed and closed his eyes, his forearm over his eyes to keep the glare from the window from killing him. His head hurt, and they’d never given him so much as an aspirin.
Dani was... she would be all right. She’d gone down fighting, just the same as he had. They may not have taken the cheap shots on her like they did with him, being the boss’ niece and a pretty girl at that, but he wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s hand “accidently” slipped as they dragged her upstairs.
If that were the case they would be easy to spot, for once they got through this Dani would turn around and cut those hands off.
Strange, really. Despite everything, I still think there’s a happy ending where I get Dani and we both get away with our lives intact. I really am convinced that we will triumph, somehow. Though Randy riding to my rescue on a white charger isn’t in the works. Hell, right now, I’d be the damsel in distress, so long as it gets me and her out of this. And then we’ll see. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll have... well, something together at any rate. Whatever it turns out to be.
They only needed to get out.
But there were no knights riding to the rescue. And Randy certainly wasn’t coming, in a Dodge Charger or otherwise; he’d made that clear. And what in the hell was up with that fixation on the guest list? Giving the DA time to organize paperwork was bullshit. Was that why Luke hadn’t left the stick with him? Something made him feel off about that, something prevented him, but he couldn’t place his finger on it at the time.
He remembered talking to him about it, surprised that he’d gotten word so quickly from the underground. It wasn’t unreasonable, really. A good rumor only takes a moment to cross the globe; hearing that didn’t leave an impression.
It was something else. Something... he lay there and worried at it, trying to rerun the complete conversation. In the darkening night, he lay and tried to remember everything.
Talking about rumors and Beyoncé... it was in there somewhere. How was he supposed to focus when he hurt like hell and Dani was so far away?
You focus because you have to. Because if you want the girl, you have to be alive to save her. Or, knowing her, alive to be saved by her. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time.
So think. What did Randy say?
The room was dark before he figured it out.
Luke bolted upright.
“I’m deeply invested, have been for years.”
YEARS?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Two Days Later...
Luke stood by the preacher, in the front of a chapel. Behind him, a couple hundred wedding guests filled the pews. As he stared at the man in the black cassock, he spared a moment to wonder if it actually was a preacher or some hired thug in a black dress. Not that the ceremony would be legal regardless. He highly doubted that whatever certificates Benny had forged would hold up in court.
If they lived that long.
The priest stared back at him, eyes cool and disinterested. He was being paid for this job, and had little interest in doing anything but carrying out the task and then getting out. Luke wondered how much money it had taken from Benny for the man to compromise whatever principles he’d still held. How much had it cost to rent the hundred-year-old church, complete with stained-glassed windows and high, arched ceilings that seemed to go on forever?