by Sophie Oak
Nikolai cursed and said something in Russian.
“I am sorry,” Alexei said flatly. “He killed your brother.”
Nikolai spewed what had to be something vile. His face became a
wicked shade of red. He pushed Holly aside and started toward Stef.
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“Nikolai!” Pushkin shouted across the room.
It felt like the world slowed down for Jen. One minute everything
was far too fast and the next was horribly, painfully slow. She tried to run to him. She had no idea what she would do once she got there.
She only knew she couldn’t watch Stef die. He’d come for her, like
she’d known he would, and the outcome of that act couldn’t be his
death. She took one step and then another before she felt a hand on
her arm, pulling her back.
Nikolai’s gun came up, his movements jerky as though rage had
taken over and there was only one thought on his mind. Jen screamed,
pulling against the hand that held her, but his strength ensured she
couldn’t get away. Futilely she tried, panic overtaking her, but the fist on her arm tightened, hauling her back as his other arm raised a pistol.
Jen heard Holly scream and hit the floor, covering her ears as a
loud report boomed through the building. Gunfire cracked through the
air, at least two shots going off, but it was Nikolai who jerked
backward as though he had hit a wall and bounced back. It was
Nikolai whose chest bloomed with blood.
Alexei pushed Stef lightly away as he shot Nikolai. Stef’s right
arm came from behind his back, and he had a gun, too. Jen watched as
he aimed his gun, but his eyes lit with horror before he could pull the trigger. He stepped back as Jen felt an arm snake around her middle.
Her back was suddenly pressed to Pushkin’s chest, and his meaty arm
was a manacle holding her down. He was using her as a shield. Jen
squirmed, trying to do anything to get out. He hauled his weapon up
and fired. Jen felt her eyes widen in horror as Stef’s left side took the bullet. His side above his waistline started to bleed.
He staggered back for a moment, but managed to stay upright, his
gun level at Pushkin’s head. “Let her go.”
Jen could feel the heat of Pushkin’s breath against her ear. “I don’t
think that is such a good idea. I believe I will keep the girl close, or I will end up like Nikolai there.”
“And if I told you I don’t care about the girl?”
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“I would not believe you. You came for the girl. That is the only
reason you are here. If you were simply working with the traitor,
Alexei, you would have left the same way you came in. Tell me
something, do you know where my painting is?”
Stef looked far too calm for a man who had just been shot. “I
know enough to know you don’t give a shit about the painting.”
There was a low rumble from Pushkin that might have been
described as laughter had there been an ounce of humor in it. “No, I
don’t care about the fucking painting. But I do want the bearer bonds
behind it. Alexei, you appear unwell. Did Nikolai’s shot find
purchase?”
Alexei did look a bit green. He put his hand over his gut and came
away with blood. He fell to his knees. Holly scrambled from her
protected position to get to him. Even with a hole in his gut, Jen noted that Alexei pushed Holly behind him, trying to cover her body with
his damaged one.
“I’m glad, you bastard. I never trusted you,” Pushkin said. “There
was something about you.”
Alexei’s lips struggled as he spoke. “You killed my brother. I
have worked, risen in your organization, to kill you. You will die
here. Whether by my hand or others, you will die today, and you will
take no more innocents with you.”
Holly wept behind him, trying to get her hand on his wound.
Pushkin accepted the information as though it was a mere report
of the weather and not a curse. “I did not know what was wrong about
you, but I felt it better to keep you close. When I couldn’t raise Ivan, I became suspicious. That’s why I brought along another three men.
They should be here any moment. I’ve had them asking questions and
looking for the painting. But, I sent the signal for them to come to me.
Soon, you and your friends will be a distant memory.”
Jen heard the sound of gunfire, but this time it was from the
outside of the building.
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Stef’s lips quirked up. “I have friends, too. We’ll have to see who
walks through that door, won’t we? Or you can give me my woman,
and I’ll allow the sheriff to arrest you.”
Pushkin took a deep breath, and the gun pressed to Jen’s temple.
Such a small little circle pushing against her head, and yet it could bring death in no time at all. She wouldn’t even know it had
happened. Pushkin could pull the trigger and everything she was
would be gone.
“I love you, Stef.” If she was going to die, those would be the last
words she said, because they were true. Nothing in this world had
ever been as important as loving Stefan Talbot.
His stance hardened. “Jennifer, I will get you out of this. I love
you. I will not let you go. You will not go to Paris without me. You
will not move into that tiny loft at Callie’s, and you will never leave Bliss.”
Even with a gun to her head, she had to smile at the royal tone he
used. King Stef was in the building. “I already moved into Callie’s
place.”
“Then get ready because I’m moving in. It’s going to get crowded
on that twin bed, but I won’t sleep apart from you. You wanted me,
well, you get me. I’m very possessive, and according to everyone in
this town, I am apparently emotionally needy. I disagree, but the votes are against me. You should know I intend to love you forever,
Jennifer. I intend to keep you with me or follow you when you go.”
“I won’t go, Stef, not without you,” Jen said, her heart filling up
with love.
“That includes dying, Jennifer,” Stef said sternly. “You are not
allowed to die on me. I will take it as extreme disobedience, and there will be some punishment.”
His voice was starting to shake, whether with emotion or pain or
the combination of both, Jen wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. They
were together. It brought her great strength. There was the sound of
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more gunfire outside, but the reports were getting further and further apart.
“It sounds like my men will be here soon,” Pushkin said. “Now,
tell me where my bonds are and I will kill you quickly. Otherwise,
you will join that unfortunate deputy.”
“Yes, I’d like to kill you for that, too.” Stef snarled.
“Someone needs to do something,” Holly said, crying. “I don’t
think he’s going to make it.”
Alexei’s body was still, but his lips moved. He said something to
Holly, who cried out and lightly slapped his shoulder.
She looked at Jen. “He won’t move. He says I have to hide behind
him. I can’t get him off me, the big idiot. He’s going to die.”
“You are all going t
o die,” Pushkin said.
“Not if I can help it.” Logan’s voice was ragged, and his face
brutalized past recognition, but he forced his body to move. He
propped himself up in the doorway of the office and took aim.
Logan’s left arm hung at an odd angle, and his right trembled, but he
held the gun level despite it all. “I don’t have a shot from here, Stef.”
“You don’t need one,” Stef said. “Nate will walk through that
door any minute.”
Jen slipped her hand into her jeans pocket, her fingers curling
around the whittling knife. Alexei had asked Holly for a distraction,
but it looked like they needed another one. With Pushkin’s eyes on
Stef and Logan, he wouldn’t notice that she was squirming a bit more.
When she had the knife out, she held it at her thigh so Stef would
notice.
“I tire of this,” Pushkin said. Jen could feel that he was sweating
now. He was starting to panic, and that could be very bad for her.
Stef’s eyes found the knife at her side, and he nodded, letting her
know he was with her.
“I’m pretty fucking tired myself,” Logan spat out.
“Jennifer, Nate is going to walk through that door,” Stef repeated,
as though his surety could make it happen. “He’s going to come in
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here, and we’re going to be fine. I love you with all my heart. Do you trust me, Jennifer?”
She nodded, far too emotional to speak. She heard the outer doors
swinging open.
“Then do it now!” Stef shouted.
Jen raised her arm and plunged the small knife into Pushkin’s leg.
It didn’t go deep, but it was enough that he howled and reached for
his leg. It was enough that he let go slightly, and Jen was able to drop down.
She felt the bullets hit Pushkin’s body. He jerked behind her once,
and then twice, and then again. Jen covered her head, the ringing in
her ears almost painful. She made herself as small a target as possible because Stef needed her out of the way.
The sound of bullets died away as the inner door burst open, and
Nathan Wright’s voice boomed through the building.
“Stand down!” Nate shouted.
“There’s no one left to stand down, Sheriff. You are late to the
party,” Stef said.
Jen felt his hand on her shoulder and looked up into relieved gray
eyes. She jumped up and wrapped herself around him. He was here
and alive, and that was all she could ask for. Stef’s arms tightened
around her body, so tight she almost couldn’t breathe, but she
wouldn’t complain. She needed him close.
“I love you, Jennifer.”
“I love you, Stef. I love you so much.”
Nate and several others were moving in. “Zane, call a bus.”
“Why do we need a bus?” Jen asked, trying not to look at the
bodies on the floor.
“It’s cop slang, love. He’s calling in an ambulance.”
Max Harper strode into the room, a shotgun in his hands. “Is
everything fine now? We killed everyone we needed to? ’Cause my
wife is having a baby in the middle of a diner. I wouldn’t be here
except Rachel made one of us come down here to save Stef’s butt,
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and she was yelling really loud. I’d like to make it back to see my
son.”
The doctor pushed through the double doors. He had an apron on
and held his hands up as though he’d just sanitized them and didn’t
want to touch anything. “Better luck next time, Harper. You just had a girl. Sorry about that. I’m not real great with sonograms. Is there
anyone left alive for me to fix?”
The doctor’s face fell, and suddenly all of his bravado was gone as
he saw Holly trapped under Alexei’s body.
“Holly?” He ran to get to her.
“Please, Caleb. He saved me. You have to help him.”
Chaos reigned as people poured into the small building. Zane
helped Logan to sit. Nate checked the bodies. Max ran out, shouting
something about his son not having a penis. Stef held her close, and
she seemed far away from the horrors of the day.
“Don’t ever leave me.” His voice was a mere whisper in her ear.
“Never.”
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Chapter Twenty
Stef stretched slightly, trying to loosen up the tight feeling in his
ribs. Jennifer turned and cocked a single eyebrow at him. He put his
arm down.
“Hah!” Max said from his seat at Rachel’s bedside. He sat in what
must be one of the world’s most uncomfortable chairs with a baby
sleeping on his chest. “I saw that, Stef. You are just as pussy whipped as the rest of us. That is so good to know.”
“Maxwell Harper, that was rude.” Rachel threw a stare at Max
that might actually peel paint off the walls.
Max clutched his daughter and nodded at his wife. “Yes, baby. It
was rude. I am so sorry.” He turned back to Stef and pointed at
himself. “See, we’re all the same.”
Jen chuckled beside him. “I just don’t want him to pull his
stitches. He’s supposed to take me to Paris for our honeymoon.”
“Don’t you have to get married first?” Rye Harper asked as he
walked in the room, followed by Callie. Both carried trays of food.
Stef reached out and grabbed a cookie. He thought it looked like
one of Laura’s. She was famous for her chocolate chip cookies.
Almost everyone in Bliss had been in and out of the hospital over the
last two days. They had come to coo over the new baby or offer
support to Logan. They had come to sit with Holly while she held the
hand of a man she barely knew, but had saved her life.
“Give them time, Rye,” Callie said, offering Rachel a sandwich.
“It takes a while to plan the kind of wedding Jen wants.”
Stef turned to his fiancée. He had heard nothing about an
elaborate wedding. “No Vegas, then?”
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The smile on her face did funny things to his heart rate. “I suppose
we could elope for some quickie wedding we’ll soon forget. Of
course, the honeymoon would probably match it.”
He snorted. His girl never let her opinions go unstated. It was one
of the things he loved about her. If he forced her into a quickie
wedding, he would get quickie sex. While he was pretty damn sure he
could change her mind about that, he was an indulgent husband-to-be.
His father, on the other hand, hadn’t been willing to wait. He smiled
as he thought about the fact that his father was in Vegas. He’d
married Stella, and they would come back to Bliss in a week. Stella
and his father would live in the manor house. Stella was finally
coming home. Yes, he thought, a big wedding was just what they
needed. “We’ll pull out all the stops then, love. We’ll have a wedding like this town has never seen.”
“That sounds like fun,” Rachel said, happily munching on her
sandwich. She scooted up so Rye could slide in behind her. His arms
wrapped around his wife as she leaned back against him. “Callie and I
can help.”
Jennifer practically glowed. “Y
ou better. You’re my bridesmaids.
I need one more, though. I think I’ll ask Laura. Maybe she’ll teach me how to walk in five-inch heels.”
“Nope,” Stef said, pulling her close. God, it felt good to reach out
and grab her whenever he wanted to. “I like you shorter than me.”
“Unless this wedding takes place in the next month or so, I’m
going to be a whale.” Callie’s face turned down as Nate and Zane
walked into the room. It was getting full fast.
“Never, babe. You’re going to be gorgeous all round and full of
baby,” Zane promised, towering over his wife. Zane softened around
Callie. The hard lines of his face fell away.
Stef wondered if he looked like that when he stared at his Jennifer.
He thought he probably did, but he didn’t care. She was his. She
would be his always. It didn’t matter that he had to wait for the
wedding. He already had another ceremony in mind. He’d talked to
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his friend in Dallas and had a private collaring ceremony planned.
Jennifer would never be a full-time slave, and he didn’t want that, but, oh, they would play. They would play for the rest of their lives.
“You want to see it?” Nate asked as he pulled out a file folder. In
his hand was a small stack of what looked like certificates.
Stef felt his eyes go wide. He’d never seen one before, much less
a stack. He ran his hand across the bonds that equaled enough money
for Pushkin to kill for.
“That’s twenty million dollars?” Jen asked.
“Yes, these are untraceable security bonds. It’s a practice that
dates back to the Civil War. It’s the only way to get this much money
in a neat, movable pile without involving a bank. The US Federal
Reserve is trying to get rid of them, but they’re still out there,” Stef replied. “From what Nate, Zane, and I have managed to figure out,
this was payment for a long-lost painting Pushkin sold on the black
market to a collector here in the US.”
“The Russian mob is making a fortune on black market
masterpieces smuggled out of Germany during World War II. Pushkin
used Renard to restore them, and then Renard acted as the middle
man. He got the painting to the buyer and then smuggled the payment