Chances Are - By Christy Reece Page 0,80
She will pay the price for her disobedience.”
“And your children? What’s to become of them? Their mother will be gone and their father in prison.”
Rupert snorted. “My father is a very important man. He will make all of this disappear as if it never happened. And believe me, my children will be much better off. I’ll find them a mother who is loyal.”
“And will you kill her too if she doesn’t obey your commands?”
Easy, baby, Jake thought. Piss Rupert off and there was no telling what the unpredictable idiot would do. Beatrice Gardon stood eight feet in front of her husband, a homemade bomb of dynamite strapped to her torso. Rupert held a Glock in one hand and what looked like a garage door opener he was using as a detonator in the other. It would be no problem for him to press the button for the bomb and squeeze off a bullet simultaneously.
Angela stood between Rupert and his wife. Both the bomb and the gun were a danger to her.
“If a woman makes a vow, then she should keep it,” Rupert snarled. “She promised to obey me and she didn’t.”
“Rupert,” Beatrice sobbed, “I’ll do what you ask, I promise. Just please don’t do this.”
Rupert lifted both hands. “Your promises come too late, woman.”
His heart in his throat, Jake took off. The only option was to tackle the man before he pressed the detonator or squeezed the trigger. Before he could get to Gardon, Angela did something extraordinary. Almost a blur, her movements so swift, she knocked Gardon’s gun from his hand with her forearm and kicked the bomb detonator out of his other hand. Then, before Jake could make a grab for it, she caught the detonator in mid-air.
With a soft cry, Beatrice Gardon’s knees gave out. Switching directions, Jake dove forward and caught the terrified woman in his arms. He turned back to check on Angela and was unsurprised to see that she had Rupert face down on the ground. Kneeling on top of the man’s back, she was already cuffing his wrists with zip-ties.
“Now that, sweetheart, was impressive,” Jake said.
She twisted her head around to face him. “Jake? What are you doing here?”
He wanted to grin, tell her how damn proud he was of her. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and take her away from the danger. However, there was still the small issue of a bomb attached to the poor sobbing woman in his arms. Jake examined the device. Thankfully it was as crude as it was ugly—a simple wire/switch combo. He jerked the wire connector, unbuckled the vest and lifted the dynamite off.
The instant he did that, kids were shrieking around him, screaming, “Mama! Mama!”
Jake moved quietly out the way and glanced over at Angela. Instead of looking at him, her eyes were on the reunion of mother and children.
An uncomfortable lump in his throat, Jake stood, transfixed. He knew he would never forget this moment. Triumph and satisfaction had turned Angela from beautiful to something otherworldly. A transformation was taking place before him. Angela Delvecchio, survivor and one incredibly strong woman, had achieved her dreams and found her place in life.
Two hours later, Rupert Gardon was on his way to a luxurious drug rehab center courtesy of his father, his three thug friends were in jail, and Beatrice Gardon and her children were already back home.
Jordan and Eden Montgomery, along with Riley Ingram and Justin Kelly, had headed back to headquarters for new assignments. The rest of the LCR crew, Thorne, Cavanaugh, Angela, and Jake, sat around the table at Luigi’s All American Pub and rehashed the events.
“Rupert Gardon shouldn’t be in a rehab facility,” Cavanaugh said, “The asshole needs to be in jail with his buddies.”
Jake agreed. When Gardon’s father had asked for LCR’s help, he had described the situation as a simple domestic dispute. This had been a million miles past simple. The idiot could have blown up his entire family. Not to mention the LCR operatives who had been trying to save them.
“I heard McCall had a few words with the father,” Thorne said.
Yeah. Jake had been in the office when Cavanaugh’s request for reinforcements came in. Jake had seen his boss in many different moods but he’d never seen him like that. If Arthur Gardon had been face to face with McCall, the man would be sporting some major bruises. The LCR leader had been livid.
Having just returned from a grueling month-long rescue mission in the States,