Carly Phillips - Lucky Streak

She decided to humor him. “Didn’t you pay off the loan shark?” she asked.

He nodded. “But there’s always the next score. You know that. And I need you.”

She wondered if he was in more trouble and didn’t want to admit it to her. “We can talk,” she promised him.

He exhaled a long breath. “That’s my girl.” He not so subtly patted the pocket of his jacket and she realized there was a bulge there.

He had a gun.

Her heart pounded in her throat, fear rising like a wave but she refused to panic. She knew now to keep him calm-she wouldn’t give him any reason to use the weapon. Her next priority was to get inside where she wouldn’t be alone with him.

“You must be roasting in that jacket. Let’s go in where it’s cool. I’ll buy us each a bottle of water and we can figure out a plan.” She started for the door.

To her relief, he followed. “I knew you’d come around. You’re heading home anyway. What happened? Prince Charming turned out to be a frog?” He laughed.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from telling Marshall that Mike was one hundred times the man he’d ever be. “He didn’t understand me,” she said instead.

He nodded, obviously pleased. “Not like I do, baby. We’re partners, you and I.”

“We’ve had our moments.” She stopped short of agreeing, too busy trying to figure out how to get away from him once they were inside the bus station.

“Amber!”

She whipped around at the sound of her name.

Beside her, Marshall froze as Mike walked toward her from one side.

“How y’all doing?” King Bobby called from the other.

“Shit,” Marshall muttered. Without warning, he grabbed her arm once more, stopping her from running away.

“Let her go, Banks,” Mike said, his voice low.

Deadly.

Amber wouldn’t think of crossing him when he sounded like that. But Marshall always had an inflated sense of self. He was also holding a grudge against Mike for coming between him and Amber in Vegas. She knew this wasn’t going to be pretty.

She broke into a sweat, as much from fear as from the sun overhead.

“Everyone relax,” King Bobby said in his long drawl. “Listen, son, I just want to talk to you.”

“Bullshit,” Marshall said. “You want your money and he wants her.” He yanked Amber closer to him.

“Don’t hurt her, Banks.” Mike’s warning was loud and clear.

Amber tried not to grimace and give Mike a reason to act, but Marshall’s fingers dug into her arm painfully.

“Don’t tell me what to do with my lady, Detective,” he said with a sneer. “She was leaving you anyway, so you’ve got no rights where she’s concerned. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Amber swallowed hard. She never tore her gaze from Mike as she repeated the words Marshall needed to hear. “That’s right.” Anything to keep Marshall from turning on the man she loved.

Loved.

Oh, God, she loved him.

She didn’t just want a chance, she wanted him. Now, forever. Nothing else mattered. They’d work out the little details over the next fifty-plus years.

But Mike didn’t love her. He’d protect her when necessary, like now. But then he’d let her go.

“You heard her, man. Go home. She’s where she wants to be.”

“Then why do you have a death grip on her?” Mike asked sarcastically.

Marshall’s hold turned to a bruising pinch. Amber couldn’t stop herself from groaning out loud.

Mike immediately pulled out his gun, prompting Marshall to do the same.

“HOLY MOLY, BOYS, everyone take a deep breath,” King Bobby said, keeping a careful distance from Mike’s and Marshall’s guns.

Mike couldn’t breathe. Not until he got Amber away from that psychopath. She was a champ, and refusing to show Marshall any fear. But Mike could see it in her eyes. He could feel it in his gut. And he wanted to kill the man with his bare hands.

Marshall was a wild card. He shook like the pansy he was, which made Mike nervous he’d fire by mistake. And while Mike’s gun was trained on Marshall, Marshall’s alternated between Amber and Mike.

“Come on, Banks. Be smart,” Mike said. “Put the gun down before someone gets hurt.”

He let out a laugh. “I am smart. I’ve got the girl. You’ve got nothing.”

Mike ignored the dig. “Then do the math. You’ve got what looks like a.22 and I’ve got a.38. Anything you shoot is just going to piss me off. On the other hand, you’ll be sprawled on the pavement bleeding out, with no chance to spend all the money you’ve been winning.”

“My money!” King Bobby shouted.

“Shut up,” Mike hissed at him. He didn’t need the big Texan stirring up Marshall’s already volatile temper.

“Marshall, I was on my way home to Las Vegas. Why don’t we work out our problems there. Put the gun away,” Amber said, her voice strong despite his grip on her.

“You hear that?” he asked Mike. “She wants me, not you. We love each other. We’re going to have a good life.”

Mike stared.

Even Amber, who was trying to keep Marshall calm, looked at the man as if he’d lost his mind.

“Tell him you love me, baby, and he’ll just walk away,” Marshall said.

Amber winced. She could only do so much in the name of keeping everyone safe, and as much as she tried, the words Marshall wanted to hear wouldn’t come. Not even in a patronizing tone.

“Tell him you love me.” Marshall’s grip tightened so hard she thought her arm might break.

Amber looked from Marshall to Mike, digging down to find strength she didn’t realize she’d had. “Marshall, are you crazy? We never were more than partners. And that was only so I could pay for my father’s nursing home.”

“There’s different kinds of love. We had an understanding! Now tell him!” He waved the gun at Mike.

“I can’t! Because I don’t love you, I love him!” Amber pointed to Mike.

At her declaration, Mike’s throat went dry. Stars spun behind his eyes. Her words shocked him, although he should have known, should have realized it before.

At the same moment, the sound of sirens filled the air as police cars pulled up around them. In a small town, Mike was surprised they hadn’t attracted notice before.

“Damn cops. They’ll take the bastard and I’ll never get my money,” King Bobby muttered. “Of all the damn, rotten luck…”

“Drop the gun, Marshall. Before you find yourself in a situation you really can’t win,” Mike ordered.

“Marshall, please.” Amber spoke directly to her ex-partner, pleading. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Neither would my father. The worst the police have on you now is possession of an illegal weapon. That’s minor. It can still work out. Just give it up,” Amber begged him.

King Bobby groaned. “I’m goin’ back to Texas. You kin’ keep your money for when you get out of the can,” he said to Marshall, clearly fed up with the whole situation.

“Oh, hell. I’m probably safer in the joint here than in Vegas where the loan sharks can find me,” Marshall muttered. Then he lowered the gun, tossing it onto the ground.

Mike scooped up the weapon and seconds later, the local cops had surrounded them, demanding Mike’s attention, preventing him from dealing with Amber and her declaration.

I love you.

OTHER THAN A FEW BRUISES where Marshall’s fingertips had dug into her skin, physically Amber was fine. Emotionally was another story. But as soon as she boarded the bus for Boston, she’d be able to put this ordeal behind her. Putting Mike there, too, though, wouldn’t be quite as easy.

When the police had arrived, one officer had taken care of Amber, steering her toward a waiting ambulance over her objections. Standard procedure, they’d said. And Mike had been occupied giving his statement.

He hadn’t looked for her at all, not that he’d had much of a chance in all the commotion.

King Bobby had disappeared, probably to avoid any possible scandal that might upset his so-called associates. And Amber knew Mike wouldn’t bring up the man’s name to the local authorities. The simpler the story, the faster this mess would all go away. Simple. Since Mike was a fellow cop, they’d taken his word for what had gone down.

A man from Amber’s past had followed her to Stewart and tried to force her to go with him at gun-point. She assumed they’d both told the same story, because the police seemed satisfied with her answers, asking only for her personal information so they could find her if they had any more questions. She supplied her Las Vegas address, home phone and cell.

A quick glance at her watch told her she could still make her bus. Another told her Mike was still busy with the local cops.

She could get on the bus and go home without a messy confrontation. He’d probably appreciate that, since her I love you declaration had gone unanswered. Besides, she hadn’t said it to him, she’d said it to Marshall.

About Mike.

After he’d shut the door on them.

Amber was many things but she wasn’t a martyr. She knew he cared for her, but he’d made it clear he could never forgive what she’d done. To stick around where she wasn’t wanted wasn’t her way. Mike had saved her and she was grateful. Beyond that, there was nothing more to say.

IT WAS OVER.

No sooner had Mike grabbed Marshall’s gun from the sidewalk than the local cops took over. They cuffed Marshall and read him his rights. The paramedics, who’d been called out along with the police, presumably by someone who’d witnessed the standoff, had reached Amber before Mike had a chance to get close to her. It was just as well. Anything they had to say to each other was best done in private.

At that moment, Mike hadn’t a clue what he was feeling beyond relief and an overwhelming desire to kiss her until she melted into him, his body joined with hers, and he forgot the fear that had consumed him watching Marshall holding her in one hand, a gun in the other. But as Amber had pointed out earlier, that was just sex. Anything physical between them had always been spectacular. He wasn’t ready to delve deeper.

So with the paramedics seeing to Amber, Mike put all his energy into making damn sure Marshall Banks didn’t slip through any procedural cracks. Although Stewart wasn’t his jurisdiction, Mike prided himself on being thorough, and he wanted the local cops to handle this booking the same way.

Only when the squad car carrying Marshall had pulled away did Mike turn to look for Amber. He glanced around, but he didn’t see her anywhere. The ambulance had left and only one cop remained, scrawling notes while he sat in his car.

“Hey, man. Do you know where Amber went?” he asked.

The guy shook his head. “No clue.” Then his radio beeped, capturing the cop’s attention.

Mike headed for the bus station. He asked a few people if they’d seen her based on description, but no one had. Finally, he walked over to the young woman selling tickets behind the counter. “Have you seen the woman who was being held hostage earlier?” he asked.

“Yep. She took the number ten.” The woman hooked her thumb toward the bus stop far from where the drama had taken place.

Mike’s heart nearly stopped. “She what?”

“Bought a ticket before the ruckus and took the bus after.” The woman glanced around him. “I’m sorry, but you’re holding up the line.”

Mike looked over his shoulder. One person stood waiting to buy a ticket. Some line. “Sure, sorry.” He stepped aside and glanced toward the front door, slowly making his way out.

Gone.

She’d up and left him.

Because he’d told her they were through.

Because even after Marshall had released her, he had avoided dealing with his feelings for Amber by immersing himself in work.

Because…he was no better than his father. The truth hurt. In trying to avoid the trap his father had fallen into, Mike had landed there anyway and he’d probably lost his only chance at happiness. The only difference was that Mike claimed sanity while avoiding what frightened him. Only now that Amber was gone did Mike have the courage to face his fears.

Her words, the ones she’d used when she’d refused to tell Marshall she loved him, “I don’t love you, I love him,” ran through his mind nonstop.

Taunting him.

I love him, she’d said.

And at the moment when Mike thought he might lose her to Marshall and his gun, Mike had gone cold inside. Because though he hadn’t verbalized it, he’d realized he loved her, too. And that love scared him, causing him to avoid her. He’d still been running, holding tight to the reasons he’d sent her away-the fear of instability, roller coaster and insanity.

Mike looked at the empty street where the bus had once been and realized those reasons suddenly meant very little when compared to losing her forever.