Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,26
her to Letty’s. Grady was the most visibly upset and least functional, so he stayed with her while the CSI team worked. Hours later, when they’d finished and taken the evidence they wanted, Grady showed up. The four of us cleaned up the mess. Scrubbed away the gore.”
“Oh, Con.” She hugged him again, and her slender body trembled in his arms.
He held her, comforted by her presence. “Took us all night. We ripped out what was left of the carpet and took it and Pop’s chair to the dump. Nobody except Grady showed any emotion.” Pop’s death had hit his youngest brother the hardest. “Until we threw that torn, lumpy recliner out of my truck. We stood there, looking at Dad’s chair amongst the garbage, bloody and battered. Then we lost it. Four grown men. Put our arms around one another and cried like babies.”
She drew back and touched his face. Tears spilled down her cheeks. “It’s understandable. No wonder you’re all so close.”
He trailed a fingertip over her wet face. She shared his pain, just as he shared hers. Her empathy made the hurt more bearable. “Mom was devastated. But when we suggested she move, she got royally pissed off. She said—” An unsteady chuckle dislodged the aching lump in his throat. “Well, I won’t repeat it. The gist was that criminals were not going to drive her out of her home and destroy her memories.”
Bailey captured his hand in both of hers. “Your mom is incredible.”
Anger crackled, burning away sorrow. He’d watched his mom fall to her knees after the death of her soul mate, then struggle to her feet and get on with living. “She should have had the privilege of growing old with the man she loved by her side.”
“We can’t change what’s done, I know that better than anyone.” Her eyes softened, deep blue pools of sympathy. “Dwelling on it will only hurt you more.” She placed a tender kiss in the center of his palm. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Yeah.” He’d stood outside the bank racked by grief, and battled the urge to rush in and confiscate the robber’s Uzi. To turn the weapon on him and force a confession. To finally find justice. Only the thought of Bailey, alone and defenseless, hunted down by those ruthless men, had made him walk away. Each step had taken every ounce of stubborn Irish will he possessed.
Con sucked in a deep breath and yanked his thoughts out of the past. He would be fine. After he finished it.
“What do we do now?”
He looked at the woman he loved beyond all reason. Her eyes were dark with sadness. Her delicate face white with strain. Her sweet lips creased with worry. Those men had killed his father and now they were a threat to Bailey’s life. And the lives of innocent hostages. Anger boiled into rage. “I’m going to stash you somewhere safe, go back to the bank and clean house. Exterminate the vermin. No catch and release.”
She went rigid. “No! You can’t!”
“Hide and watch me, Bailey.” Years of anguish. His mother’s quiet suffering. His brothers’ pain. Tears. Loss. The ragged, empty hole in their lives that no one would ever be able to fill. No more. Never again. “They aren’t getting away without a trace this time. I’m going to stop them before they hurt anyone else.”
“Is that what you’ve been trained to do? Would your father want you to charge out there, hell-bent on revenge? I think not.”
He clenched his jaw. “That bastard has no right to wear my father’s watch like some kind of grisly trophy.”
She shook him. Hard. “Focus, Con. Those hostages need you. I need you. If you lose it, we will all die.”
She was right. Blind fury had overtaken him, pushed him too close to losing his head. To doing the wrong thing for all the right reasons. He’d come within a heartbeat of blowing off his training and throwing away his life to annihilate a criminal SOB who might very well have murdered his father. He’d nearly risked Bailey’s safety and the welfare of innocent hostages. Shame washed over him, cooling his rage. He swore.
The seesawing emotions combined with loss of control rattled him to the core. He dropped his head into his hands. He’d been in scary, unpredictable situations before, but never like this. This time, his family was at stake. The woman he loved was at stake.
This time, it was personal.
Bailey shook him again. “Look at me.”
Resolve