Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

The next morning, Bella woke up restless and unsettled.

It was still dark, but Falcon wasn’t in the bed either.

She frowned as she sat up, trying to figure out why she was upset. Not merely because Falcon wasn’t there, right? She wasn’t already dependent on him, was she?

No. Of course not. They’d had some highly personal intimacy at the event hall, and then had gone out for drinks afterwards. He’d made her laugh, and she’d made him laugh. They’d traded stories about the bridge days, and she’d regaled him with tales about crazy dude ranch guests.

They’d danced in the shadowy corner to a jukebox, romantic and slow.

It had been a perfect date night…its perfection preserved by the fact they had stayed away from any inflammatory topics. She hadn’t asked him to talk about the revenge quest he’d been on for so long. Neither of them had discussed kids or marriage or the Hart Ranch, or her soon-to-be-acquired business.

It had been light and fun. The way dating should be at the start with someone.

Except they weren’t at the start, even though they were.

What were they doing?

Her phone dinged, and she rolled over to look at it. It was the email from her attorney, with the letter of intent and the first draft of the contract.

Her stomach sank. Diana’s catering business. Which she’d promised a lot of money for. Which she was going to own shortly.

“Argh!” She flopped back down in bed and pulled the pillow over her face. Did she want it? No. Did she? Maybe? Was she just scared? Shouldn’t she be excited? Or maybe she was excited, but her mind was trying to convince her she wasn’t.

She should have just given Diana the money. Invested in the trucks. Then she could co-own a business without having to actually do anything with it.

But that was just money.

It didn’t change her.

It didn’t give her a purpose.

It funded someone else’s purpose, but didn’t give her one.

Unless her purpose was to fund other people’s dreams?

That felt empty. Too distant to make an impact. Too… Argh!

Her phone rang, but it was Brody’s ringtone, so she had to answer. She rolled onto her side and picked up. “It’s awfully early out there.”

“Is Falcon with you?”

She sat up quickly, alarmed by Brody’s urgent tone. “I assume he’s in the living room.”

“Go get him. I need to talk to the two of you together.”

Her heart started racing, and she threw the covers back. “What? What’s going on?”

“We tracked the guys who were at your house. They’re related to Falcon’s quest. You’re both in danger. They know where your cottage is. You guys need to get out fast.”

Crap. She ran into the living room. “Falcon!”

He wasn’t there.

Frowning, she checked the kitchen and the bathroom. “He’s—” She paused, not wanting to give Brody a reason to go all patriarchal on her. “He’s in the bathroom. Tell me what’s going on and I’ll relay it.”

“Call me when you’re on the road. Just get out fast.”

“Right. Will do.” Bella hung up and shoved the phone in her pocket. There was no way Falcon would be out of the house right now, not when he was in bodyguard mode.

But he wasn’t inside.

Fear tried to creep down her spine, but years of practice enabled her to shut it down and focus. She ran into the bedroom and got her gun, a penlight, her wallet, and her keys.

Survival mode had been ingrained in her since she was a little kid, and old habits flared back to life like she’d never had a break.

The familiar state of mind felt safe…and awful at the same time. She hated that she was so capable of stepping up when she was in danger. Well, not that. She hated that she was so used to being in danger that it wasn’t a second thought.

Her car was by the front door, but she headed to the bathroom, raised the window, and slipped outside, landing silently in the darkness.

If someone was waiting for her to come out the front door, they were going to have to wait.

She crouched in the shadows under the window, listening for the sound of an intruder, but all she could hear was the gentle crashing of the waves on the beach…beautiful, and also so useful for drowning out footsteps for the bad guys.

She pulled out her phone and texted Falcon. “Where are you?”

No reply.

Crap.

She inched around the side of the house, and she saw her car only a few yards away. It was in the light from the side of the cottage, and she could see there was no one around it. She could zip right over there and drive away to safety.

But where was Falcon?

He hadn’t left her. She was sure of it.

Which meant something had happened to him.

Sudden tension gripped her chest, and she had to fight harder to keep her focus. “No. He’s safe,” she whispered. “He’d want you to leave.”

But she couldn’t make herself just drive away. What if he was in trouble?

Then he’d want her to leave.

Except that no one got to tell her what to do anymore. Even Falcon.

Dammit.

She eased back against the side of the house and made her way around the other side, toward the beach, scanning the dusky moonlight rays for any sign of Falcon.

But nothing.

Just a silent, empty oceanside cottage.

Fear began to rise in her. She’d lost before. She couldn’t lose again. She couldn’t.

She eased around the corner of the house toward the beach, then immediately ducked back into the shadows. Two dark shapes were stretched out on the beach, not moving. Men? Falcon?

Oh, God.

She paused to scan the beach, looking for any signs of anyone else, but she sensed nothing. No one.

She was an idiot to do this. She knew she was. Except Falcon was hers, and she never left anyone behind. None of the Harts did.

Gun ready, she took a breath, and then burst out of the shadows and sprinted across the sand.

Two men were face down in the sand.

One was a man she didn’t know, all in black. His face was battered—from Falcon’s fists? He was utterly motionless. Dead? She had a bad feeling.

The other was Falcon. His eyes were closed, his face was also battered, and he had blood spreading on his T-shirt on his left side.

Oh, God. She crouched beside him, scanning the beach. “Falcon,” she whispered. “Wake up.”

He didn’t move.

She put her hand in front of his mouth, and felt the movement of his breath.

Alive.

She needed to get them out of there. Men like the one Falcon had fought with rarely worked alone. And someone would at least know he was there. “Falcon!” She shoved his shoulder, and he groaned.

Yes. “Get up,” she whispered. “We’re in danger. Get up.”

His eyes snapped open, and he lunged to his feet, then stumbled and almost fell. “They found us. We gotta go.”

“I know.” She threw his arm over her shoulder so she could support him, but he didn’t lean on her. He shoved her to his left side so his gun hand was free, still in protector mode.

Both of them with their guns ready, they made it across the sand as fast as his compromised body would allow, continuously scanning the beach.

“My car. I’ll drive,” she said.

“Mine. It’s got supplies.”

Of course it had supplies. The man had lived on the run for twenty years, and she’d gotten soft. “Okay. I’m driving.”

He didn’t argue with that one, and he almost fell into the passenger seat when she got him in it. She helped him belt in, then ran around to the driver’s side, jumped in, and started the truck.

She hit the gas, peeling out as she whipped the truck around, over the lawn, and raced out onto the main road. Falcon gripped the door to keep from sliding, continuously looking out the back window while she drove.

After about ten minutes of tense silence, he turned forward again. “Only one guy today.”

“Did you kill him?”

“No. I don’t think so. Maybe.” He closed his eyes. “The fucker stabbed me. I heard him working on the front door and when I went to get him, he stabbed me.”

“Did you stab him back?”

“Didn’t have a knife. But I can kill a man with my pinkie, so it was fine.” He closed his eyes. “You good?”

“Fantastic.” How had she not heard that fight? How had she slept through it? Years of sleeping on the ranch had made her too relaxed, apparently. This was why she wanted to be off the ranch? So she could have someone try to stab her?

Oh, wait, they’d broken into the ranch first. So, safety outside. No, they’d found her here, too. So, safety nowhere. “Do you need a doctor?”

“Don’t know. I need to check it.” He swore and pressed his hand to his side. “I have first aid in the back seat. I just need a sec.”

She glanced over at him, her heart tightening. “Don’t you dare die on me.”

“No. Never. I’ll die beside you. I weigh too much to die on you. You’d be trapped and that’s no good.”

She couldn’t help the giggle that squeaked out. “You’re crazy.”

“Yep. A crazy monster. I didn’t recognize the guy.”

Oh, right. “Brody called. He said the guys who were in my house were connected to your quest.”

Falcon went silent, and the energy in the truck suddenly became so dense she couldn’t breathe. “Falcon?”

“I’m calling Brody. I need to know what he found out.”

“Falcon, this isn’t your fault.”

“It sure as fuck is. Imagine if I had kids? I’d put them all in danger. Every single person who I love.” Grief was thick in his voice. “Good thing I didn’t make the mistake of starting a family, right? I’d have to abandon them, and we all know how much that sucks as a kid to be abandoned.”

Tears filled Bella’s eyes. “Falcon?—”

“I’m fine. Moving on. I accept my path.”

“No. Don’t! We don’t need to accept anything!”

He ignored her, pulled out his phone, and hit send. “I’m calling Brody?—”

She whacked the phone out of his hand. “No, you’re not.”

He looked over at her, his gaze hooded, his face pinched with pain. “Bella?—”

“Shut up. I’m in charge now.” She looked over at him. “I’m finding a place to park, and then we’re going to deal with this. Right now.”

“With what?”

She gestured randomly in his direction. “This. All of this. Now.”