Tightly Wound (7 page)

She nodded while she willed the room to stop spinning. “Glad I could help, Rick.” Warmth from Shadow’s skin seeped into hers.

Rick lifted his hand to wave at someone across the hall. “I’m sorry you’ve had to spend your time sequestered in a safehouse, but we felt it was best.”

She could’ve sworn the bench took a severe dip and she felt herself tilt forward. Shadow pulled her upright before she could kiss the floor. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he whispered across her ear.

Determined to keep her distress hidden, Claire gave Rick a forced smile. “I’m quite comfortable there. In fact, it’s been a long day. I’m anxious to get back.”

Rick nodded. “I’ll let you do that. I’ve got to get back in the courtroom. We’ll meet after the air clears.”

As soon as the thick oak doors closed behind Rick, she noticed Matt released a hard breath the same time as she.

“I hate to bring it up Claire, but have you had a chance to get a read on Gabe’s murder?”

A muscle jumped under Shadow’s biceps.

Something, maybe exhaustion, maybe Shadow’s involuntary reaction, told her to tread lightly. She moved her gaze to her brother and intercepted the same signal.

“Sorry, not yet.”

“Do you mind if I stop by in a few hours? Maybe we can dig up something together.”

“Sure.” Deep in the recesses of her brain, Shadow and Brett groaned. Suddenly the dark clouds over her mood vanished. “Hey Matt, are you any good at five card draw?”

***

Once he and Claire sat behind the safety of his truck’s smoked windows, Shadow tapped his fingers against the steering wheel while he maneuvered though town, barely escaped being stopped by the lowering arm of a railroad barrier, and quickly approached the curves leading to the safehouse.

During his first turn, he gave a casual glance into his rearview mirror. Steele’s truck no longer followed, in its place another vehicle.

Before Shadow got a fix on the situation, the muddy brown sedan accelerated and then rammed his rear bumper.

“Sonuvabitch!” The steering wheel trembled in his grip. “Claire, can you see the driver?”

Her thigh bumped his when she turned in her seat. “No, he’s backed off.”

“Is it him?”

Shadow didn’t move his gaze from the road, already assured of her answer. “Yes.”

He pressed the accelerator to the floor, hoping to gain distance. The other driver increased speed and followed closely. Shadow glanced as far down the open highway in front of him as possible, looking for an exit, a corner, a turn, anything to confuse his tail. Nothing but asphalt.

The sedan nailed his tail end again, this time pushing the truck sideways with its force. Shadow fought for control but the momentum proved too much. The truck hit the ditch and soared airborne.

Shadow reached for Claire, grabbing nothing but air when the vehicle hit the ground and rolled. He squeezed the steering wheel and held on for the ride while the airbag popped and burnt his neck. Once the truck stopped moving, stars floated through his vision and he wasn’t too damn sure he didn’t dream the whole thing.

Then reality bit him in the ass.

“Claire!” He batted the deflated balloon from his face and clawed at the seatbelt that squeezed him, suspending him almost in the air. Panic punched him in the stomach when he realized she wasn’t below him in the passenger seat. “Christ Claire, answer me!”

Acid bubbled his gut when the metal boa constrictor finally released him and he tumbled into the vacant seat. His head bounced off the window.

“I’m behind you,” Claire finally answered. “Please tell me you’re not hurt.”

“I’m Superman, remember?” The purr of the motor suddenly caught his attention. Pungent fumes of gasoline filled his nostrils. “We gotta move.”

He climbed back to the driver’s seat, pulled the door handle, and shouldered the door. “Damn thing’s stuck. Is my duffel still back there with you?”

The sound of her movement in the back seat gave him hope that she wasn’t severely injured. “Yes.”

“Open the side pocket and hand me the pistol.”

Her cold fingers brushed his as the weapon changed hands.

“Duck behind the seat.” The snap of the gun’s clip release echoed in the baited silence as bullets littered the seat. He grasped the barrel and struck the window. Between adrenaline and pure force, the glass finally shattered. “Okay sweetheart, can you climb over?”

She scurried over the leather almost before the words left his mouth.

He lifted her toward the open hole. “Careful.” He breathed a sigh of relief when she left the interior completely. “Away from the truck,” he ordered. “Run as far as you can.”

From his vantage point, Claire’s legs remained motionless. “Not without you.”

Shadow couldn’t afford an argument. He hurled himself out the window and plastered her to his body. “Wrap your legs around my waist.” As soon as he held her tight, he sprinted for a clump of trees away from the carnage.

Claire slid down the length of his body until she sat on the ground.

He squatted in front of her. “Where do you hurt?”

“Everywhere, but I don’t think anything is broken.” She gave him a watery smile. “I’m so dizzy.”

His muscles burned as he stripped off his shirt and pressed it to her forehead. “You’re bleeding this time.”

With the cotton pressed tight against the wound, he wrapped his arms around her neck and squeezed her to him.

“I slipped out of my seatbelt. I don’t know how it happened. I was buckled ... and the next ...”

Claire paused in mid-sentence. Shadow read the impending danger in her eyes seconds before he glanced at the truck. Hungry, orange flames devoured the metal. Thick, black smoke suffocated the air. The ground shook beneath them. Shadow pulled her from the dirt and pushed her behind a tree.

Claire’s fly-away curls stuck to him as she nestled her head in the crook of his bare shoulder. Her shoulders shook and moisture coated his skin.

He wrapped his arms around her midsection and squeezed. “Adrenaline’s a bitch.”

He held tight and silent, respecting her need to purge the fear from her system. Unable to prevent the motion, his fingers burrowed through the tresses of her tangled hair, forcing his unbelievable anger into submission. Finally, he felt her lips caress the skin over his left pectoral.

He eased her back and ran his thumbs under her eyes to clear the tears. “Can you reach into my pocket for my cell?”

She nodded and then dipped her fingers into his pocket. She raised her gaze and bit her lip. He knew what she planned to say before she spoke.

“It’s not there,” she said softly.

“You have yours?”

She shook her head from side to side. “It was in the truck.”

Shadow released a heavy breath. “Don’t worry, Steele won’t miss this mess.”

Claire’s eyes widened. “Brett was right behind us.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Claire, you’ve come too far to fall apart on me now.
Think
. You would know.”

“You’re right.” She took a ragged, deep breath. “But what if someone else finds us first?”

“Concentrate.”

Her gaze bounced around the wreckage. “He thinks we blew up in the truck. He won’t risk a confrontation.” She frowned at the base of his neck. “You’re burnt.”

“Airbag.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, tucked her head beneath his chin, and rested his chin on top of her head. His heart pounded a military cadence. Sick bastard would have to die and it would be a long, slow, torturous death if he had anything to say about it.

“I agree,” Claire mumbled.

His eyes snapped open at the sound of an approaching vehicle. Steele parked his truck on the shoulder and walked toward the trees. Shadow stuck his fingers between his lips and gave a sharp whistle. Steele headed their direction.

Steele pried Claire’s fingers from Shadow’s biceps and buried her in his own embrace. “What the hell happened?”

She whimpered and Shadow reached to stroke her hair. “Brown sedan hit me from behind. I hit the ditch and rolled.” He ran a hand across his forehead. “Did the train stop you?”

Steele nodded. “You need an ambulance?”

He bit back a smirk. No doubt, Steele’s question was just a technicality. “I’m good but Claire needs to be checked out.”

“I’m not hurt,” she insisted, pulling free of her brother’s hold. “I just want to soak in a hot bath.”

Sirens screamed in the heated afternoon and soon fire engines, an ambulance, and police cars swarmed the area.

“Emergency room first, bath later.” Shadow urged her out of the cover of the trees.

Claire frowned. “We’re targets out here.”

His control snapped. “Dammit, Claire! Could you please, for once, just humor me?” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You’ll fall over if Steele lets go.”

She reached to touch her forehead.

“He’s right.” Steele guided her to the ambulance. “You could have a concussion.”

The paramedic took over as soon as Steele pushed her to sit in the back of the ambulance.

Shadow glanced around the perimeter until his gaze landed on Brooks and Lassiter huddled with several policemen.

“Did they follow you?” he asked Steele.

“Who?”

“Brooks and Lassiter.”

“No. I called Brooks when I got here. I don’t know who called Lassiter.”

“Brett,” Claire grasped her brother’s biceps. “Let Shadow talk to the police. I need you here.”

Steele frowned. “You feel him?”

“I don’t know. I feel something but I’m too weak to figure out what.”

The paramedic gave Steele a puzzled look.

Steele chuckled. “Female intuition.”

Shadow glanced back at Brooks and caught the flare of his badge in the sunlight. He balled his fists. “I’ll be right back.”

Brooks met him halfway and extended a hand. “Rough afternoon?”

Shadow gave Brooks’ hand a quick shake. “To say the least.”

“What the hell went wrong?”

Shadow eyed Brooks closely before he answered. “You’ve got a leak,” he said finally.

“I take it you had a tail.”

Shadow nodded, not ready to elaborate.

“I followed you as far as the railroad tracks. Did you notice you had company before then?”

Shadow paused for a brief moment and glanced at Claire who appeared to argue with her brother. Again.

He looked back at Brooks, angry as hell that any of this even happened. “No one followed except Steele.” He stopped to exhale hard. The detective worked a bent straw between his teeth as he waited for more of the story. Body language told him Brooks had a secret. The man needed a cigarette. Something fierce.

Shadow took pity and relayed the whole sordid story.

Brooks actually appeared perplexed when he finished. “Did you get a look at the driver?”

“Afraid not.” Shadow twisted his lips. “I was just a little distracted by the whole crashing thing.”

Brooks nodded. “No shit.”

Shadow noticed yellow tape now surrounded the perimeter. “You’ve marked this a crime scene?”

“After everything else, I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

“It isn’t.” Shadow moved his gaze to Lassiter who now spoke to the fire chief. “I see you brought back up.”

“Yeah.” Brooks exhaled hard. “When the department is involved, he insists on participating.”

“Claire is not a cop.”

“She’s part of our team.”

Shadow took a mental step back and redirected his focus to Claire. “We’re on our way to the hospital. I’ll contact you when I know something.”

As soon as the emergency room physician shined his blinding, bright light into her eyes and sucked a good amount of blood from her vein, Claire was convinced she wouldn’t leave anytime soon.

“Due to your dizziness, I’d like to take a few x-rays of your head,” the doctor told her.

Despite her fatigue, she fought the ridiculous urge to giggle. Wonder how he’d react if she told him her vertigo had nothing to do with her head? Too bad the x-ray couldn’t give him the
real
reason.

An attendant soon rolled a wheelchair into the cubicle and then whisked her to the x-ray department. Not five minutes later she landed back in the emergency room.

Shadow frowned when she climbed onto the cot. “That was fast. How many x-rays did they take?”

Claire waited until the attendant left before she answered. “None.”

“Why the hell not?”

Her insides shook at the force of his anger. Her heart flip-flopped. Claire eased herself from the cot and grasped his biceps, both to calm him and to relieve the pressure in her head.

“Shadow, I’m fine.”

Although he didn’t speak it out loud, his doubt slipped through.

Pain poked her when he passed his knuckles over a sensitive spot on the side of her cheek. “You’re so pale, baby.”

Even with his calming touch, she felt his anger, his overwhelming urge to fix her and kill the person responsible. She supposed this was a good a time as any to screw with his emotions even more.

“I’m not seriously hurt.”

He dropped his hand to her waist. “Even you don’t know that without x-rays.”

Actually, she knew without a doubt. She was just too chicken to let him in on the secret. “I asked him to wait a few minutes,” she hedged.

Shadow cocked his head to one side, his suspicion clear. “Spill.”

“I need to sit back down.”

Shadow grasped both hips and lifted her onto the gurney. She buckled both feet around his legs, draped her hands around his midsection, then tucked her head beneath his chin. For once in her life she didn’t want to be strong. At this particular moment she needed all the strength he offered.

He wrapped his fingers in her hair and twisted, his silent ambush a prod for information.

She lifted her head, held his gaze in a headlock, and let the words cross her lips. “I’m pregnant, Shadow.”

His fingers stilled. Beeps from machinery in the nearby cubicles penetrated the silence. She scanned his face from corner to corner, just in case he dared let some kind of emotion slip. Instead, he resumed the movement in her hair.

She released a hard breath. “Your ultimate coolness is annoying. Please, say something.”

As if he awaited her permission, he smiled one of those incredibly sexy smiles. One that made her think
naked
. Claire pushed past her own thick haze of arousal and concentrated on the flurry of emotion he now released. Arrogance. Loads of pure, cocky, testosterone-driven satisfaction. She squeezed her legs around his, unable to control her newly wacky hormones from their tailspin.

Finally, his lips met hers in a soft kiss. “Damn I’m good. That didn’t take long at all.”

She managed a half laugh. Of course he’d take all the credit. “Apparently, only a very small window of opportunity existed. Even I didn’t know until they took my blood. A few more days and it wouldn’t have happened.” She groaned and burrowed back into his arms. “You’re such an overachiever.”

She snuggled deeper into his embrace, the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat loud against her ear. “And you said it couldn’t be done.”

“It wasn’t a challenge,” she mumbled.

“Are you happy?”

She lifted her head again and extreme joy split her lips. “More than you’ll ever know.” And then just as quickly, a sudden pang of uncertainty poked her. “Are you?” She eased herself back to evaluate his answer.

She intercepted his mental
duh
before he kissed her forehead. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“Never?”

“Almost never. Who gets to tell Brett?”

“You.”

“He’s
your
brother.”

“You’re right. We don’t need another murder on top of everything else. I’ll tell him.”

He laughed. “I can handle Steele.”

Claire tilted her head to one side. “I’m beginning to think there’s not much you can’t handle.”

“I’ve told you that for years, Claire Bear.”

She rolled her eyes. “So now get me out of here.”

“Did he release you or are we making a run for it?” Obviously neither explanation bothered him because he lifted her from the cot before she answered.

“Not much else he can do without an x-ray and I won’t risk it. We’ll stop at the desk for discharge orders.” She moved her gaze across his chest. “Unless you distract the nurses.”

He gave her a blank look and shook his head slightly.

“I took your shirt,” she reminded him.

He grinned and led her from the cubicle. “I promise not to interfere.”

Claire shook her head. Sure. She couldn’t fault either him or the nurses. Both his body and his wit rendered him one fine male specimen. And he was all hers.

As soon as they entered the waiting area, Brett pulled them into a secluded corner. Mentally she searched for a crack in her brother’s mood, not surprised when her attempts proved useless.

“Sterling called about the bullet.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “Well?”

Brett glanced at her then back at Shadow, a telltale sign he was stalling. And then she saw right through him.

Claire shook her head. “No, he’s wrong.”

“Damn it, Claire.” Brett breathed out hard. “The bullet that hit you was fired from the same gun that killed Gabe Kennedy.”

Her stomach churned. “I refuse to believe it, Brett. I would know.”

“Claire, forensics don’t lie.” Shadow ran a hand across his forehead. “Steele, has anyone notified Brooks?”

“No.”

“Make sure they don’t. In the truck, Claire.”

“No.”

“We don’t have time for your temper tantrum. Get your pretty little ass in my truck. Now.”

“Cut the alpha crap, Shadow.” Claire squeezed her

eyes closed, placed both fingers to her temples, and pressed.

The silence roared. Rage, worry and guilt assaulted her. And then she caught a flash of handcuffs. She opened her eyes and glared at her brother. “Don’t even think about it. I can take you down too.”

Shadow stepped forward and pulled her in the depths of his embrace. Love flowed through his veins, a sore attempt to camouflage the undisputable anger beneath.

“You know you like the alpha.”

Claire allowed herself a smile through her pain. True, she and Shadow’s
alpha
got along just fine.

“Matt’s not our guy.” She raised her head. “You have to let me find out who.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “No.” He glanced at Brett. “Relocation?”

Claire squeezed his biceps. “No.”

Both men gave her what she knew to be deadly stares, but she persisted. “He doesn’t know where I am. That’s why he followed us from the courthouse.”

“He was there?” Shadow spat.

“I don’t know.” She blew out hard. “I’m just trying to connect the dots.”

Shadow rubbed the pad of his thumb against her shoulder, obviously at least considering her explanation.

“We’ve been there two weeks,” she pushed.

Steele ran a hand through his hair. “Hell. She has a point, Shadow.”

“You know why I don’t want to risk this, Claire.”

She swallowed and snuck a sideways peek at her brother to see if Shadow’s admission caused any concern. Anger still colored Brett’s mood. “Yes. But I need to stay close.”

“Fine, we’ll stay until we hear what Brooks has to say. After that, I won’t make any promises.”

***

Later that evening, Shadow’s emotions pelted her like heavy raindrops as Claire watched him flip channels. Ugly grey smoke surrounded his body and caused her breath to catch. Guilt over the accident. Fury at the invisible force behind it. Cool, collected vibes of retaliation. Although instinct pushed her to wrap her arms around him and kiss it all better, she knew that would only fix him temporarily. Instead, she gave his thoughts a mental poke.

“Out,” he growled. His eyes never left the screen. “You’ll get hurt in there right now.”

She shifted her attention to Brett, stretched out on the sofa, boots crossed at the ankles. The same smokescreen prevented her entry into his mood.

Claire sighed. She couldn’t blame them. Both men were not accustomed to
wait and see
. No, each simply garnished a weapon and intimidated the enemy into submission.

She pushed herself out of her chair and walked into the kitchen. She gave herself a pat on the back when she opened the freezer and grabbed two frosted glasses. She then added lemonade, her own brand of secret weapon.

She approached her brother first, confident she’d have the upper hand in any argument he fired at her. He lifted an eyebrow, took her offering and then cast a brief glance at Shadow. Most likely to see if Shadow noticed who surrendered first.

“Thanks, Claire.”

“You’re welcome.”

She stepped between Shadow and the television and then extended the icy glass. Suddenly the grey cloud hovering over his head dissipated and a smirk crossed his lips. “Thank you.”

She leaned down and pressed her lips against his. “You’re welcome.”

Brett pushed his feet to the floor and then sat up. He patted the cushion beside him in a silent command. Claire plopped next to her brother and laid her head against his muscled biceps.
Damn this madman
.

He draped his arm across her shoulders and tucked her in his hold. Strong, never-wavering vibes of comfort soothed her burnt nerve endings. A tiny sigh escaped her as his iron bands of protection threatened her discomfort into submission. This too was many of the times in her life she knew she would never be whole without her twin.

For several minutes she thought she might actually bask in peace until Shadow’s anxiety speared her shields.

Loud, deep rumbling from the driveway filled the air and drowned out the television.

Shadow stood and clicked off the unit. “Brooks is here.”

He slung open the door before the detective knocked and she fully expected him to yank Matt inside by his collar. Instead, Shadow signaled the other man in with a nod.

Claire slipped free of her brother’s hold and stood. She motioned to an empty chair. “Take a load off. Can I get you something to drink? I have lemonade.”

“No thanks, Claire. I don’t want to bother you long.” Matt took a seat. “Have you been able to rest?”

She snuck a peek at Shadow, still poised to strike, and then gave Matt a forced smile. “That’s not exactly possible.”

The detective winced. “Sorry.”

“No apology necessary. It’s hard for even me to understand sometimes.”

“Any leads, Brooks?” Claire intercepted the
I-doubt-it
tone of Shadow’s question.

“Not one. No witnesses, no evidence. We’ve got officers attempting to identify the other vehicle but there are probably thousands of brown sedans out there.”

His intense anger stung Claire like angry bees. She rubbed her arms and attempted to distract him. “What did you bring me?”

“I brought a few of Gabe’s things.”

She eased herself to sit on the floor opposite to Matt’s chair.

He frowned and moved to stand. “Take my chair.”

She smiled, genuinely this time. “No, I need to sit here.”

“No emotion,” Shadow grumbled from behind her.

She took a deep breath to clear her mind then turned to Shadow and Brett. “Go in the kitchen, both of you. I need to concentrate.”

Brett paused at Matt’s chair and extended a hand. “Brett Steele, by the way.”

Matt grinned and shook his hand. “Thanks for your help.”

Claire waited until Shadow and her brother sat at the kitchen table then crossed her legs indian-style. “Okay. Give me one item at a time.”

Matt passed her a shiny, gold object. Waves of authority and respect seeped into her skin. Gabe’s badge. She placed the metal flat against her palm and closed her fingers on top. Courage vibrated her nerve endings and almost rattled her teeth. Bravery roared so loud her eardrums protested. And then thin ribbons of fear crept through her fingertips. Pain and heartache strangled her. A shadowy figure lurked at the edge of despair, laughing at the top of his lungs. Claire opened her fist to block any further reading.

“He kept this in his pocket,” she told the detective as she passed it back.

Matt nodded and extended a black t-shirt. She grasped the soft cotton material with both hands and lifted it to her face. Before she opened her mind, she took a deep breath through her nose and then frowned.

“Gabe didn’t smoke cigarettes.”

Detective Brooks only nodded again in agreement.

She inhaled again and this time a whiff of peppermint burnt her sinus passages. She lowered the garment and smirked.

“You contaminated the evidence, Detective.” She tossed the shirt into his lap. “I thought you quit.”

“Damn.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did until about an hour ago. Since I drove my own car, I figured what the hell.”

Claire dodged the blades of his frustration. “It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

“Yes, it has.”

She motioned to the last object he held. “What else?”

He handed her a gold pen and she twirled the cylinder between her fingers to allow the emotion a wider path. Her fingers heated as the pen glided over her skin and she traced several slight indentions in the barrel. Tiny, electrical shocks of pain traveled the surface, building in intensity, until suddenly a wave of pure torture broke free and raced through her veins, exploding in her head. A wave so large and dark she could only call it death.

She closed her eyes, dropped the pen, and placed her fingers against her temples in an effort to dull the sensation. Her blood pulsed and threatened to loosen her eyes from their sockets. She pulled air across her starving lungs until the sound of marching combat boots assaulted her eardrums. Then the ebony darkness faded, replaced by sunshine and the distinct tart odor of lemons.