Chapter Twenty-One

It was like watching a horror movie unfold in slow motion. Only this was too real.

Claire’s limp body seemed to float through the air, falling, falling. How could it take so long for someone to fall off a bridge? It wasn’t such a long drop—they’d chosen that particular bridge not only because it sat in an empty area, but because the drop wasn’t so far. Hence, it being a drawbridge, too low for anything to pass underneath without it opening.

He braced himself for impact almost like it was his body about to hit the water. It might as well have been. Claire was his life, nothing less than everything that mattered.

She hit the river with a splash, roughly where they’d worked out her impact. Close to where he was waiting under the bridge. He waited a second before letting go of the dummy dressed in clothes identical to Claire’s, floating it facedown.

He then ducked under the surface, taking hold of Claire before the river’s current pulled her out of reach. She was panicked, struggling against him even though everything was going according to plan. He guided the mouthpiece to her lips, his scuba gear allowing him to breathe underwater. She had to breathe, too.

And she could once she settled down and let him insert the device into her mouth. She clung to him the way he clung to her with all his might. She was safe. She would be okay.

She was, after all, dead.

Well, not exactly. Thanks to the blank Arellano had fired and the dummy Luke had set loose, to Fisher it would look like Claire was out of commission and no longer a threat. With the report coming from both detectives, Ballard would have no choice but to believe she was dead.

Now all they had to do was wait, holding on to each other beneath the water’s surface. He could just make out beams of light shining down from the bridge. Flashlights. Arellano probably wanted to make sure his partner saw the lifeless dummy before it rounded the bend and floated out of sight.

It was a long fifteen minutes, with Luke keeping watch on the riverbank and waiting for the signal. When a bright light flashed from inside the trees, he knew they were in the clear. Brax had been keeping watch and was satisfied that both cars were gone. They’d made sure to leave no trace of Claire in her car. Just the keys, so one of the men could drive it off the bridge and somehow make it disappear.

They’d wipe out all memory of Claire’s existence. At least, that was what Ballard would believe.

Or so they hoped.

Luke pulled Claire to the surface with him where she tore the respirator from her mouth and gulped fresh air. “I can’t believe it worked,” she whispered, her teeth chattering.

“You don’t trust me now, Kitten?” He tried to keep his voice light and teasing. Like it was completely normal for them to take a swim in the river in the middle of the night. For her to pretend she’d been shot and pitch herself off the side of the bridge.

God, how he loved her. Her strength and courage. He wasn’t even sure whether he’d have the guts to throw himself off a bridge, no matter whether the fall had been planned or not.

He held on to her as he swam for shore, where Brax waited with a car and towels. “You were perfect,” Brax whispered, wrapping one of the towels around Claire while Luke pulled off his goggles and slid the oxygen tank off his back. “I told you so.”

“You told me.” Her voice was shaky, though it was clear she was trying to sound cheerful and relieved. And she had every right to be relieved—she’d cheated death.

“Let’s get you back to the house.” Luke guided her into the back seat of Brax’s car, noting the way she shivered until her teeth chattered. He had a feeling there was more to it than feeling chilly, still soaked from the river. He made a point of holding her close while Brax drove, trying to warm her, trying to comfort her.

Sure, she was out of the worst of it. Safe, now that Ballard thought she was dead. That didn’t mean the enormity of what she’d just done wouldn’t hit her from all sides. The thought of what might’ve gone wrong. What if Fisher had fired on her instead? He didn’t have the first clue what was happening, that his partner had gone into business with the enemy to save his wife’s life.

Would she be safe now? Luke hoped so. He didn’t hold anything against the guy for getting himself trapped in the spider’s web. Ballard knew how to choose his prey, how to wrap them up so they couldn’t escape.

“You’re sure they won’t find the dummy?” Claire lifted her head from his shoulder, looking up at him with eyes that seemed a lot bigger than usual.

“They won’t. It’ll end up in the Guadalupe before long, and from there, it’ll sail into the Gulf. It’ll be enough for them to hide or destroy the car, so there won’t be any trace of you lying around. By the time that’s finished, the dummy will be gone for good. Nothing to worry about.”

“I hope you’re right...” She wanted to believe him, he knew she did. Though the fact that there was any doubt didn’t exactly thrill him.

He guessed he’d be afraid to bask in victory if Ballard had burned him so many times. Not only Ballard—life had burned Claire again and again for years. No wonder she was hesitant to rest easy.

If he had his way, that would never happen again.

“So, what now?” Claire’s head found his shoulder and she let out a soft sigh while she snuggled in. He stroked her wet hair, still heavy with the smell of the river.

“First, we shower.”

She snickered. “I thought that went without saying.”

“Then, we settle you in so you can get some sleep. You can’t burn the candle at both ends forever. We spent all last night going over the plan. Clearly, the effort was worth it. Now you need to sleep.”

“You know I appreciate how much you care about me, right?”

“Right.” He sensed there was something more to it than that.

“But I don’t need you to tell me to rest. I know I need to sleep. I wasn’t talking about this very night. What’s our next move?”

Brax met his gaze in the mirror, eyes crinkling at the corners. He could afford to smile, couldn’t he? Claire wasn’t the love of his life. If they were still kids, that little grin would’ve earned Brax a punch in the arm.

A punch in the arm sounded good right about then, all things considered.

“Can’t it be enough for now to rest and regroup?” he asked Claire in a softer voice than before. “You faked your death not forty-five minutes ago. If anything you’ve ever done has earned you the right to unplug for a minute and recharge, it’s what you just pulled off.”

She went silent, which he wasn’t sure was a good sign. His mom would go silent like that whenever she was good and frustrated with his dad.

Which was why he didn’t push Claire to answer.

The ride to the safe house felt like it took years, thanks to the roundabout route Brax followed to get them there. “Just in case,” he muttered more than once, taking them down unlit roads, sometimes doubling back. Once he felt comfortable there was no one on their tail, he took them the rest of the way to the safe house.

It was dark and empty. Weston and Chance had made it their business to be seen around town earlier in the evening prior to settling in at home—well before Claire had played out her one-act drama with Detective Arellano—just in case Ballard had been watching for signs of life from them.

Brax entered first, checking for any signs of trouble before waving them in. Luke hurried Claire up to the front door, an arm around her waist, his head on a swivel. They couldn’t be too careful, even now.

Once they were inside and he could see for himself that all was well, he allowed himself to breathe. No one could ever call him lazy or out of shape, yet the events of the evening had left him with a bone-deep exhaustion now that the rush of adrenaline had tapered off.

“You okay?” Brax asked while Claire went to shower off the river’s stench. The frown lines creasing his brow revealed his concern.

“Fine. Glad that’s over, for sure.” Luke opened a bottled water and downed half in one desperate go, signaling dehydration. “Is it possible to sweat bullets while you’re underwater?”

“You were worried about her.”

“No kidding. Of course, I was. It was the longest few minutes of my life between her rolling onto the bridge and falling off.”

“She’s gutsy, I’ll give her that. She held up under pressure.” Brax elbowed him, and a little of his usual good humor flashed in his smile. “You chose well.”

Brax couldn’t understand, so Luke didn’t bother to explain the finer details. There had been no choice involved. Life had put them together, and something about Claire had spoken to something inside him. Maybe his protective nature sensed someone in serious need of someone like him.

Rather than try to explain, he stripped off his wetsuit and ducked into the shower once Claire was finished. Her skin was pink, like she’d scrubbed it within an inch of its life. He couldn’t blame her. Even though he’d been covered while underwater, he soaped up twice and rinsed in water as hot as he could stand before stepping out.

He found her sitting on the bed, combing her hair, and his heart swelled with love and relief. Was this how it would always be? Every time he saw her, even if she were engaged in something so commonplace, would he have this same reaction? He hoped not, on reflection, since he planned on their lives being very dull and ordinary once Ballard was out of commission. He wouldn’t carry the constant fear of losing her.

“In case I didn’t make it clear to you before now, you were amazing.” He dried off and dressed quickly before he sat next to her. “You couldn’t have done any better out there. I hope it doesn’t come off as condescension when I tell you how proud you make me.”

Her hand closed over his. “You don’t sound condescending at all. I’m just glad it’s over and I don’t have to dread faking my death anymore.”

Rather than give him time to draw her into his arms, she all but jumped up from the bed. “I know how to finish this.”

Luke barely held back his surprise at this sudden announcement—and the absolute dead-eyed certainty with which she delivered it. “You do?”

She gave a single, firm nod. “I do. I’ve been tossing the idea around in my head like a computer program running in the background while we worked out the plan for tonight.” She managed a faint smile.

“Okay. What’s the idea?” There was an intensity in the way she moved, the hard glint in her eyes. As much as he wished he could take away any reason for her to look and act that way, there was no denying how proud she made him. Her ingenuity, her capability, her courage.

“Ballard loves nothing more than feeling secure, right?” She didn’t pause for an answer, rolling on through. “He finds people to do his dirty work for him. He has eyes everywhere, reporting back to him. He wraps himself in layers of firewalls and cameras and monitoring, like he’s protected against the entire world.”

“Only a man who poses a threat to the entire world needs to go to those lengths,” Luke mused.

Claire nodded. “Exactly. And it’s all an illusion. It takes nothing more than a person with awareness of how he does things and the skill to get around his defenses to take him down.”

“You’re the person with the awareness and the skill.”

“I am.” She raised her chin like she dared him to argue, but he wouldn’t have argued for anything in the world.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m going to use his security system against him. Against all of them.”