Part 17 (2/2)

”He wouldn't have done that,” Hannah said forcefully. ”You're lying.”

”Why the f.u.c.k would he lie?” Austin yelled, his mounting fear and panic taking hold. ”It's all falling apart. What the h.e.l.l are we going to do?”

”Hannah, your dad made a deal with the Secret Service. He negotiated a lighter sentence.” Lach gave time for his words to sink in, trusting that she would lead him down the right path. If he said one wrong thing, they were all dead. Right about now, Agent Robbins was scrambling to get a team set up to come in for when this all blew to h.e.l.l. ”Did you really think he wouldn't? He's not stupid. Spending his life behind bars is not an option.”

”I told him that I would get him out.” Hannah's arm dropped slightly as reality started cras.h.i.+ng in. ”I told him that once I had enough money I would hire a lawyer to appeal his sentence. Why would he ruin all of this?”

”f.u.c.k me,” Austin said aloud, putting both wrists on his head and finally stopped pointing the weapon in Lach's direction. ”f.u.c.k. I'm not spending the rest of my life in jail. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. I was-”

Bentley backed up a little too far and the edge of his heel caught Johanson's leg. Austin tried to regain his balance by putting his arms out behind him. The Heckler & Koch USP Tactical .40 caliber S&W with YHM Cobra 40 M1 silencer made the weapon much longer than a standard semi-automatic handgun. As Austin fell, the elongated pistol barrel made contact first, effectively wrenching the firearm from his grip and sending it skidding across the marble floor. Lach didn't hesitate to go for it. He lowered his body using as much speed as he could muster, reaching out for the weapon and finally making contact.

The motion of events caused everyone to move and before Lach could get a bead on Hannah, she dove for the only woman left standing between the couch and the coffee table. Within a matter of seconds, Hannah had the barrel of her weapon up against Phoebe's head. Kimmie was far enough to their left that she was out of the line of sight of his weapon. Stewart was doing his best to pull her farther out of the situation while somehow, Timothy had come around the right side and tried to subdue Austin. No small feat as the two men were now struggling.

Not taking his weapon off of Hannah and knowing she had nowhere to go, Lach reached down and wrapped his hand around Bentley's throat, pulling him up off the ground. Timothy fell back and scampered to pick up his gla.s.ses, which had fallen off during the scuffle.

”Timothy, in my back pocket are handcuff zip ties. Do not cross in front of me.” When Bentley started to struggle, Lach used his strength and squeezed the man's carotid arteries in his adrenaline driven grip. Lach didn't have to turn his head to see that Austin's face had turned red and his lips blue from the lack of blood flow. ”Now.”

Timothy hurried and did as he was requested. Within moments, Austin's wrists were bound and Lach released his hold, letting the man fall to the ground like a ragdoll. Gasps of air could be heard throughout the room, but other than those rasps, it was as if time stood still. That wasn't the case for Lach, though, as orders were flowing through his earpiece. Originally there had been silence, allowing him to do what needed to be done. Now he had to tune out the chaos as he focused on the two women in front of him.

”Hannah, it's over.”

The door battered against the wall as agents, upon Robbins' command, entered the apartment. At least six of them surrounded Lach, their weapons pointed at Hannah. Although Kimmie didn't want to leave her sister, she didn't have a choice. The room was cleared in seconds, leaving only Hannah and Phoebe on the other side. Lach absolutely refused to allow emotions to reign and kept his sight picture on Hannah.

”I swear I'll kill her.” Hannah had tears in her eyes and her weapon was pressed tightly to Phoebe's head, hard enough so that with every word the girl said, Phoebe cringed. Lach again had to ignore the woman who'd come to mean more to him than he could have ever thought possible. ”I have nothing left to lose. Don't you understand? The public was going to sympathize with me. I was going to be their darling and they were going to follow me throughout my career. I could have been the first woman President.”

”Who's to say they won't sympathize with you still, Hannah?” Lach asked, hoping to draw the young girl's attention away from the fact that she was right. ”You can still have that, but not if you're dead.”

”Shut up!” Hannah screamed, yanking back on Phoebe. Lach finally met Phoebe's eyes, noticing they weren't anywhere near the color he liked them to be. Fear had taken up residence and when Hannah's knuckles whitened, he knew she was tightening her grip on the trigger. His heart stopped beating and he felt just as much fear as Phoebe did. ”Just shut up!”

”Hannah, I'm the one you want,” Lach tried to reason without sounding desperate, needing to draw the weapon away from Phoebe. He could hear through the earpiece that Robbins was giving specific instructions on what to do if Lach was successful. ”I ruined your plan by calling your father. Stewart didn't have what it took to pull this off. I knew that. Your father admitted to knowing what you were doing. I told him the Secret Service would make a deal.”

Hannah's anger took hold and she did exactly what Lach wanted her to do. She pulled the barrel away ever so slightly from Phoebe's head and started to point it toward him. Lach heard the Sig Sauer P229 report just before he lost his hearing. Phoebe must have screamed when a bullet slammed into Hannah's head, from the way she appeared in his suddenly silent slow motion world. The force of the .357 hollow point copper jacketed bullet jerked Hannah's head ever so slightly backward but not before the girl's finger had yanked on the trigger. Lach felt a blow to the left side of his chest and unlike what people think happens in the movies, he didn't fly backwards. He immediately collapsed to the floor, trying to breathe in, but his lungs refused to draw in the needed air.

Lach's vision blurred as he struggled to inhale. The chaos that he knew was taking place couldn't be seen. Son of a b.i.t.c.h that hurt. The force of the impact of the .357 round spread across the multiple layers of high tensile strength fibers in the material of his Cla.s.s IIIA personal protective soft vest. He wrestled to lift his s.h.i.+rt, wanting to remove the Spectra vest but not able to get his numb fingers under the Velcro. He was on his side when his eyesight cleared slightly and he saw Phoebe kneeling in front of him.

”Lach. Oh my G.o.d. Lach, say something.” Phoebe's voice finally broke through on his right side, his left still buzzing from the first gunshot. She was batting his hands away. ”A vest? You're not shot?”

Lach finally drew in some air, but he still couldn't form words. He struggled to sit up, but Phoebe kept pus.h.i.+ng him back down. She'd managed to slide her fingers between the Velcro and undo his vest, removing the constriction around his chest. He leaned up on one elbow, reaching up and grabbing the back of her neck. He pulled her toward him and held her tight.

”Lach, are you sure the bullet didn't go through?” Phoebe asked a question that would have had him laughing had he still not been in such pain. He didn't release his hold as she tried to pull away, but instead on his first real inhalation he breathed in her scent. It was the sweetest fragrance he'd ever had the privilege of smelling. He buried his nose into her soft strands of hair. ”I need to make sure you're not hit.”

”Not hit,” Lach wheezed out, sitting up slightly and pulling her with him. ”I just need a minute.”

”You are one lucky son of a b.i.t.c.h,” Robbins said, finally making an appearance. He knelt down while motioning with his hand for someone else to come over. It was a paramedic, but Lach waved him away. His action gave Phoebe the ability to sit up, but he quickly grabbed her arm. He wasn't letting her out of his sight any time soon. ”McKinnon, you need to get checked out. It looks like that bullet hit you square over your heart.”

”I'm fine,” Lach replied, his voice coming out a little stronger. ”Hannah?”

”She's a fatality.”

”Johanson?”

Robbins' mouth thinned out as he silently shook his head. Phoebe's primary hadn't survived and there was no consolation that the man hadn't suffered. He'd been lying in a pool of his own blood for hours. Anguish at such a useless tragedy settled deep into Lach's bones.

”Can you give us a moment?” Lach asked, finally sitting all the way up and appreciating the ability to breathe. Pain still covered most of his upper torso, but he would live. Phoebe was alive. That's all that mattered. ”I know everyone is going to be debriefed, but I'd like a moment of privacy before the hounds descend.”

Robbins nodded and then took his leave, entering into the pandemonium around them. Lach knew the protocol, although suspected the Secret Service's procedures were a little more in depth. Nothing mattered right now except Phoebe. He opened his arms and closed his eyes as the warmth of her body enveloped him.

”Leave it to you to put me in the same position, my little socialite.”

”I thought you were dead,” Phoebe whispered, her hold on him tightening. He'd pulled her into his lap and now had his chin resting on top of her head while her cheek rested against the mangled mess of his s.h.i.+rt and vest. He heard the fear in her voice, but it couldn't compare to the terror that he'd felt this entire afternoon. ”When you collapsed, I-”

”Please, don't go spreading that around,” Lach coughed out, his lungs still trying to work properly. ”I wouldn't want my teammates thinking I'm some kind of p.u.s.s.y.”

”Lach, how can you joke about this?” Phoebe pulled away far enough to look up into his face. Her cheeks were tear stained, but he was pleased to see the color of her eyes darkening ever so slightly. ”I love you. You can't just get a free pa.s.s to up and die now. That isn't an option.”

”Phoebe, I'm not going anywhere.” Lach gently took one hand and cradled his palm against her beautiful face. He could have kept making light of the situation, which was what he and the team usually did to keep the horror from overcoming them during life threatening moments. For the first time since this thing started, he saw his hand shake. Knowing it was the adrenaline draining from his system, he expected the pain to only intensify. The thought of losing Phoebe had pumped his system full of the chemical making him nearly invincible. Now he dropped like a sub fresh out of an intense scene. ”What you did by giving me a message that things weren't what they seemed in here took courage. The truth of the matter is that you gave me the strength that no other person could, and no matter what life throws our way I will be by your side. From your independence to your submission, I love every side of who you are. You will no longer be the one who has to take care of everyone else. We will do that together.”

Lach grunted when Phoebe wrapped her arms around his neck, although he didn't pull away. His chest would hurt for a while but he would have given his life had it meant Phoebe lived. He had no doubt that each of them would cherish the months and years to come, knowing the outcome of today could have been vastly different. Things needed to be discussed and plans implemented for their future, especially if Stan Dunaway became President of the United States. Lach had no idea how long they stayed on the floor of her apartment while people were coming in and going out, but all he kept thinking was leave it to him to find the most complicated woman on earth.

”Lach, you realize the team isn't going to give you a pa.s.s on this one.” Crest pulled both of their attentions toward him as he stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets. ”There's only so many times a man can be shot in the chest before one actually does the job it's intended for.”

”Do they need to know?” Lach asked, knowing his question was futile when Crest threw his head back and laughed. ”f.u.c.king sharks. Every one of them. Phoebe, help me up. I refuse to be on my a.s.s when they start circling.”

Chapter Thirty.

Phoebe had wrapped herself in Lach's robe before she exited his bathroom. His smell enveloped her and she pulled the belt tighter, wanting to seal it on her skin. She was still finding it hard to keep warm and was very grateful when he had brought her to his apartment after the millions of questions she'd had to answer. He held her hand on the drive here and didn't let her go until he drew her a hot bath. It had been after ten o'clock at night before she'd been allowed to see anyone outside of her Secret Service interviewer, though the first person had been her father.

Stan Dunaway had been holding Kimmie by his side, right outside of the office that Phoebe had been isolated in. The Secret Service had transferred everyone to be questioned to the local federal building. Each person had been interviewed separately. Exhaustion had settled in but she knew she had to take time to a.s.sure her father that she was all right and that her sister was emotionally okay. The guilt Kimmie felt for allowing Austin Bentley into their lives was evident and there was nothing that Phoebe could say to make that go away.

Hannah Ward had been p.r.o.nounced dead on the scene. Phoebe hadn't even bothered to look behind her when everything had taken place. She'd seen Lach go down and her heart literally had stopped beating, thinking she'd lost him. He was larger than life, yet he had dropped to the floor as if someone had blown out a candle. It was a moment that she would relive in her dreams for a long time to come, but she would have him to hold when those nightmares occurred. She would live through thousands of them, as long the outcome remained the same-him by her side upon awaking. Unfortunately, Agent Johanson's wife wouldn't have that luxury. Phoebe had no words for the grief and the guilt that would forever remain a part of her.

As for Stewart, he technically hadn't done anything wrong, but Phoebe had to wonder if he would have actually gone through with the deal he had made between him and Hannah. He claimed that he'd been trying to buy all of them time, but Phoebe wasn't so sure. She knew without a doubt that Hannah and Austin would have killed him before walking out that door. It would have been the only way to keep him quiet about what they had planned.

Austin Bentley's family was in denial and already making claims that Hannah Ward had brainwashed their son. They'd hire an expensive attorney, but Phoebe hoped that the public saw through the ruse of mental instability. Her father would ensure that the prosecutors would see this case through to the end, not stopping until there was a heavy sentence handed down.

”How's my socialite doing?” Lach said, walking into the bedroom with two mugs in his hands. His dark eyes looked her over and she knew he was gauging for himself. He'd been looking at her since Agent Robbins had finally dismissed them. He only had his jeans on at the moment and a ma.s.sive bruise was visible dead center over his heart on his chest. She winced and could only imagine how painful it was. ”Climb under the covers.”

”I don't want-”

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