How to Save A Life

Chapter 20

Trey and Sheldon crashed to the floor, knocking over a rack loaded with bags of potato chips. Trey grabbed for Sheldon's right hand holding the gun. He shoved Marli hard and she went down, too, behind them, but she was free. Adrenaline rushed through Trey's blood, fueling his muscles, and he used every fiber of his being to wrestle with Sheldon. The guy was big and strong, though. Panting and determined, Trey fought, finally managing to grab the bastard's right wrist and twist it sharply, forcing the gun to drop. His vision focused only on the man in front of him, but at the edge of his sight, he saw a slim, booted foot kick the gun away. It skittered across the worn linoleum floor.

"Freeze!" called the cop, gun drawn and leveled right at them.

Trey drew back his arm with one last desperate move and drove it into Sheldon's nose, blood spraying, his head bouncing back hard on the floor. Then Trey wearily sat back on the floor, while two other cops ran over to Sheldon.

Then Marli was on her knees beside him, tears running down her face, tension and fear etched in her beautiful features. She was touching him all over, crying, saying his name over and over.

He turned to her in a daze, adrenaline still pulsing through him.

"Are you okay, honey?"

She laughed through her tears, shakily. "No," she said. "No, I am definitely not okay."

With concern, he turned to her, framing her face with his big hands. "I'm not hurt," she told him, still touching him compulsively. "I'm just...just...a little stressed."

He groaned at her egregious understatement and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin.

"Are you okay?" she mumbled into his chest. "God, Trey." She picked up his right hand to examine his knuckles, but they were just a bit red and scraped.

"I may have a few sore muscles later, but right now I don't feel a thing," he said truthfully.

They watched in bemusement as the cops cuffed Sheldon Barnes and led him out to the police car.

Trey stood up, pulling Marli with him, and went over to make sure the gas station attendant and customer were okay. They were both in shock, barely able to speak. And they didn't even know who Sheldon was. They just thought he'd been robbing the store.

They talked to the cops. "How'd you guys know he was here?" Trey asked them, flexing his hand.

"Teresa Fisher called in this morning to tell us he'd been there yesterday looking for money, wanting to meet his sons. She told them they were at school and gave him thirty bucks. Told him to come back after."

Trey nodded. They knew that much.

"Her husband called her and told her you were looking for him, and she realized she had to do something. She gave us a description of what he was driving and we spotted his car as we were patrolling."

"Jesus, that was lucky."

"Trey, you'd have got him anyway," Marli said softly. "You were awesome." She paused. "That was some football tackle."

Trey identified himself to the cops. "Hostage rescue training kicked in," he said. Thank God, Sheldon had still had that faint hope of meeting his kids. Otherwise, negotiating with him would have been next to impossible. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on Marli's waist.

Much later, when they'd finished with the police and all the news media, they sat in Trey's car, both of them staring a bit blankly out the window.

"Is it really over?" Marli asked wonderingly.

"Yeah, honey, it's over. What do you want to do? Start driving back tonight? Or we could get a room here and leave in the morning."

"I want to go home," she said. "I want my life back. I want to go to work, have lunch with my friends, go shopping." She wiped a tear off her cheek, glancing at him.

"We can start driving," he said. "See how far we get and then we'll stop for the night."

"Okay."

Nearly seven hours of driving later, Trey exited the highway and drove into the parking lot of a Hilton resort near Phoenix.

"We're staying here?" Marli looked at the huge, luxurious resort.

Trey nodded.

"This is beautiful," she said, "but we don't need to spend all this money just for a place to sleep."

"We're not going to just be sleeping," he told her, and a little thrill of excitement ran through her. "Besides, we're celebrating."

"Oh. Okay."

They checked in and went to their room. It was even nicer than Trey's room at the Rocky Harbor Inn, beautifully decorated with a soft plaid blanket draped over the fluffy white duvet on the king-size bed. French doors led to a balcony overlooking the huge pool area, complete with a waterfall flowing over elaborate boulders. A bouquet of fresh sunflowers sat on the gleaming wood dresser.

"We can go down and have dinner in the restaurant," Trey said.

"It looked pretty swank. Can I at least change?" Not that she'd brought much to change into. She did have one skirt, a denim one that ended at mid-thigh. She put it on with a black camisole top and the little cardigan, and, with her sparkly flip-flops, it didn't look too bad. She wished she had her whole closet to choose from, wished she could dress up in something pretty to impress Trey.

Trey was looking at her legs when she turned to face him, and warmth pooled low in her belly at the heat in his eyes. Since the face-off at the gas station, he'd been jolted out of his cool detachment, and the heat had been building again between them with every mile they'd traveled.

They walked into the elegant restaurant and the hostess showed them to a table for two in the corner. A candle flickered on the table, real flowers sat in the vase, and the waiter whipped her linen napkin out of the stemmed goblet and handed it to her. She smiled up at him and looked at Trey across the table.

"After all that's happened, this is surreal," she said. "It's like we're on a date. We've never done that."

"No."

He met her eyes and the air became charged with sexual electricity.

"Maybe we should've just had room service," she said, her voice thick.

His eyes warmed. "You look gorgeous. As usual. Supermodel gorgeous."

"Supermodel!" She gave a little laugh. "Hardly. Remember, I work on the other side of the camera?"

"It's those long legs of yours," he said. "They turn me on."

"Oh. Well, good." She took a sip of the water the waiter had poured into her glass, then opened the thick, leather-bound menu.

She looked it over and snapped it closed.

"That was quick."

"I'm not very hungry."

He lifted a brow, but kept reading his own menu. Finally, she opened hers again and quickly made a decision.

He ordered a bottle of wine for them, also something they'd never done, and they drank wine and talked, mostly about what had happened that day.

"I can't believe I never realized the bartender was him," Marli said, shaking her head. "He was right there in front of us the whole time."

"Sort of. And, hey, I was just as stupid. I should've recognized him, too. He never spent a lot of time with us, though. Most bartenders are pretty friendly types, but I remember noticing one time that when I wanted to order a drink, he practically ignored us. He must've been nervous about you recognizing him."

"But the tattoo..." Marli said. "That's what clued me in that it was him today. I should've noticed that."

"I didn't really pay much attention to him," Trey said thoughtfully. "But I'm guessing he was wearing long sleeves while he was working."

"And how did he get a job there anyway?" Marli demanded.

"Probably used a different name and fake ID. He's done it before."

She shook her head. "I never would have thought that." She sighed. "God, Trey, when it all clicked into place, I just about died."

"Ha. I just about died when I saw him holding you like that. Christ." He shook his head, eyes full of remorse. "I will never forgive myself for putting you in that position." He cursed. "I shouldn't have brought you into such a dangerous situation."

"Oh, Trey." She sighed and smiled. "You beat yourself up over everything. I didn't exactly give you much choice about bringing me. And I'm fine. Everything is fine now."

He didn't look convinced.

"You really were amazing," she told him again. At the time, she hadn't recognized what he was doing, but now, in retrospect, the way he'd stayed so calm, talked to Sheldon, got his guard down was so impressive. "How did you know what to say to him?"

"Hostage rescue training," he said. "Part of my education. I did some work as a crisis negotiator for a while, too. I like getting inside the heads of criminals."

"That's scary." She shuddered.

"Nah. It's fascinating. Anyway, I knew I had to get him thinking about escaping, otherwise, there was nothing to negotiate with. If he didn't care if he died, he had no reason not to kill you. Or any of us, for that matter. Thank God he hadn't seen his sons earlier, so he still had some reason to want to escape."

She shivered again. "We should really stop talking about that. Enough."

"It's important to debrief," Trey told her seriously. "It helps. You've been through a hell of a lot the last few days. Weeks."

She nodded slowly and sipped her wine. It was making her feel a little warm, a little relaxed, but she was still edgy and aware of Trey sitting across from her, all big and gorgeous and brave.

"You saved me. Again," she told him solemnly. "How can I ever repay you for that?"

"It's not something you have to repay," he said roughly. "Don't be crazy."

She shook her head. "I can't even get my head around it all." She paused. "Maybe I can't repay you, but I can show you how grateful I am." She met his eyes meaningfully. "Later."

His eyes glittered with desire and his white teeth flashed in a smile. "Okay."

Trey feasted on herb-crusted prime rib, and Marli picked at lobster ravioli. They skipped dessert and went back up to the room. They meandered out onto the spacious balcony and stood at the rail in the cool night air, enjoying the view of the deserted pool glowing turquoise in the dark.

Trey turned to her, eyes dark and mysterious. "Marli..."

She faced him, studying him. "Yes?" Her heart beat with anticipation at what he was going to say. Surely, now he realized he cared for her.

"I'm sorry." He stopped.

Everything in her wilted with disappointment. Even so, when he put his hands on her shoulders, she felt that pull, felt her soul inexorably drawn to him. Her body yearned for him despite her disappointment.

"Don't," she whispered and went up on her toes to brush her mouth across his. "Don't say anything, Trey. Just, please, make love to me. Because we're here and we're alive. You don't have to make any promises."

He drew back and searched her eyes. He could probably see all the love she felt for him, and she lowered her lashes, before she kissed him again. Heat exploded between them, and he gathered her into his arms in a crushing embrace, kissing her with fevered intensity. She surrendered to him totally, in a sweet, hot rush of passion, wrapping herself around him.

They stumbled through the doors back into the room and stood beside the bed.

"Undress me," she invited him huskily, standing before him.

He slipped the single button of the cardigan open and pushed it off her shoulders, then lifted the camisole over her head. Her bra was also black and he flicked the front opening and pushed it off, too.

Then he went to work on the button and zipper of the denim skirt and worked it down over her hips, leaving her standing there in black lace panties that were a band of lace around her hips.

"I want to leave these on," he murmured, kissing her softly, his fingertips tracing over the lace and around to the back where it half-covered her butt cheeks.

She shivered.

"My turn," he said, dropping his arms.

She smiled and unbuttoned the two buttons of his polo-style shirt. She ran her hands over the thick, soft cotton and the hard, sculpted muscles beneath. She tugged the shirt out of his jeans and slipped her hands under it onto fever-hot skin. She pushed the shirt up, hands on his chest, and bent down to press a kiss right in the middle of his chest. Then she pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.

His jeans came off next, falling to the floor, heavy with his wallet and change. She had no inclination to leave his underwear on, wanting to see his arousal, wanting to feel it...taste it.

She dropped to her knees on the soft carpet and slid her fingers under the elastic of his snug boxer briefs, tugged them down over his long legs and off. He stepped out of them and planted his feet apart, standing before her, his erection blatant and impressive.

She studied him, admired him. "Beautiful," she murmured, taking him in her hands and caressing him.

He groaned.

She curled her hand around him. He was amazingly soft and hard. The tender tip of his penis was velvety, but underneath he was like steel. She traced the throbbing veins and, as she clasped him, she could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong.

She pressed her face to the crease where his thigh met groin and inhaled the scent of him, warm and musky and so intimately him. Her tongue gave a little lick there, kissed him, and his thighs quivered.

He parted his legs a little wider, and she slid one hand through and behind to capture his balls, fondling them, squeezing gently, bringing more moans and muttered curses from him.

"Yes," he said with a groan, his whole body tight.

Then she took him in her mouth, swirling her tongue over the head, wetting him, tasting him, trying to swallow him.

"Oh Christ!"

She made love to him with her mouth, sucking and squeezing him, cupping his heavy sac, loving how it tightened in her hand. She wanted to make him come, wanted him to spill himself into her mouth. His hands came to her head, gentle at first, guiding her forward, then with increasing urgency, pushing harder, faster.

"Yes, like that." He groaned. "Harder... Oh, Marli!" He cried out her name as he came, pulsing in her mouth, the hot, sharp taste of his semen a triumphant, extravagant delight for her mouth.

She sucked and licked him dry, slowly released him and sat back, then licked her lips. She gazed up at him.

His face looked stunned, flushed, full of gratitude and awe. He fell to his knees on the carpet in front of her and gathered her against him, buried his face in her hair. She kissed his shoulder and hugged him back.

"Good God," he murmured, "I think my legs just gave out."

Then they were lying on the floor tangled around each other, hands greedily groping and touching, mouths meeting in long, clinging kisses, trying to consume, devour, inhale each other.

"God, Trey," she gasped, climbing on top of him.

He clasped her hands, and she lowered herself onto his hot, hard shaft, riding him. Their fingers curled and tightened around each other's, and she surged and rose on him, pulling at him with every inner muscle she had.

"Condom," he growled. "We need a condom. I can't last...especially bareback, like that."

All she wanted was him inside her, and at that moment she couldn't care less about protection, but he lifted her off with his hands on her waist and set her aside so he could go get a condom.

He was back in an instant, already sheathed, and rolled across the carpet with her, then inside her. He moved over her, looked down at her face, and the tenderness in his eyes almost brought her to tears. He touched her hair, pushed it off her face, pulled one strand from her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her then, thrusting into her with long, slow moves, touching deep inside her, and she came, hard, fast and sharp, startling her. It was intense, almost painful. He swallowed her cry, heaved against her, hips driving, pumping.

"I'm coming, Marli," he told her, voice low and rough, then he was pressing into her in hot, heavy pulses, and she came again, this time longer, softer waves of heat that slid down her legs and made her weak.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

She held his big, heavy body tightly, stroked his damp back, the curve of his tight butt, his thick, powerful shoulders, fighting back tears. God, she loved this man with all her heart. She choked on the words that wanted to escape from her, swallowed hard, her throat aching.

He buried his face in her neck, breathing hard. She so much wanted to hear him tell her he loved her, and squeezed her eyes shut as she hugged his body.

Trey rolled away to drop the condom into the wastebasket, then rolled back to look at Marli, all sexy and naked and tousled. "Come on," he said, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. He drew back the covers, and she crawled between them. He slid in, too, and pulled her against his chest.

"So what happens now?" she whispered.

"We go to sleep." But he was afraid that wasn't what she meant.

"No, I mean to us."

He tried to come up with the words to tell her without hurting her, but he wasn't very good at that kind of stuff. "There is no us."

She immediately looked down, shuttering her eyes from him. She plucked at the white sheet wrapped around them. "I know." She lifted those beautiful eyes and pinned him with her gaze.

"Will you at least tell me what happened to you, Trey? Before we go back to our own lives. If nothing else, it really does help sometimes to talk about it. It hurts me to know you're hurting. Maybe I can help."

He looked at her long, his heart thudding in his chest. He wanted to. He owed it to her, and she was right. He needed to talk. He'd been to see that counselor the bureau had sent him to, but it had been too soon, and he'd been resistant to having his head shrunk.

He reached behind him and propped the pillows up so he was sitting. She snuggled against him, all warm and naked, sliding one leg across his thighs.

God, where to start. "About seven months ago, my wife told me she was pregnant."

Marli tensed and started to draw away from him. He held on to her as she tipped her head to look up at him. He swallowed at the stunned hurt on her face.

"You have a wife and a child?"