Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,85
around scattered jawbreakers outside Toys Galore. His throat tightened. His girl had fought valiantly beside him. Untrained, she hadn’t flagged. Unprepared, she’d never failed. Not one complaint had passed her sweet lips. Not even when she’d been attacked and cruelly beaten. He pressed a fist to his aching chest. Now he knew why surgeons didn’t operate on members of their own family. Bailey was being tortured at the hands of the madman who had very possibly brutally murdered his father. Con couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t help her. The thought razored his insides. His objectivity was shot to hell. A liability he couldn’t afford.
He passed Bedroom Furniture Emporium and sent a silent salute toward Syrone. With any luck, the big guy would soon rejoin his family. Family. A cop’s most valuable asset. Con would have self-destructed without his mom’s wise guidance, his brothers’ loyal friendship. The awareness that his brothers were outside, backing him up, twisted inside him. They wouldn’t let him down. But they also shared his danger. Shared his distress. As he shared theirs.
The knowledge was both comfort and torment. Bittersweet. After Con’s dad was murdered, he’d witnessed his mother’s anguish, his brothers’ suffering. And hadn’t been able to stop that, either. He’d hated feeling helpless. Despised his vulnerability. Didn’t ever want to feel that way again. Instead, he’d become Super Cop. Putting his body between innocents and the criminals who would tear them apart so other families wouldn’t suffer.
The love of his life had just done the same for him.
As he prowled down the dark corridor, the lightbulb in his brain switched on, illuminating his heart with bone-chilling clarity. He finally realized why Bailey had tried to break them up. Finally understood her fears. She’d hit the target dead center.
He had wanted to be everybody’s damn knight in shining armor.
Bailey had pointed out the chink in his chain mail. He didn’t take foolish chances, but he had shrugged off what he considered acceptable risks. Only now, from Bailey’s viewpoint, those risks didn’t look nearly as innocuous.
Con grimaced. Saving the world wasn’t his responsibility. Wasn’t in his control. In spite of what he liked to believe, he was as vulnerable as every other mortal man. He inhaled sharply, filling his lungs. Well, hallelujah. He’d seen the light. Not a great revelation to whammy him with before going into combat.
Counting, he slowly released the breath. He would not go off half-cocked and do anything to jeopardize Bailey’s safety. Or his own. Not unless he was forced to. He had brand-new incentive. He wanted to come home to the woman he loved. Every night for the rest of his life.
And if he lost her?
Like an invisible brick wall, the horrible thought slammed him to a stop. He’d lose his perspective. His balance.
His reason to live.
He stood immobile, struggling to master his feelings. He could not lose control. Bailey’s scared face wavered in his mind’s eye. He rolled his taut shoulders and shoved down his emotions. Froze them beneath a layer of icy determination. He stashed the pack in its hiding place. Phase one of the op complete.
The fight of his life was ticking down to the final bell.
Inside the theater lobby, Bailey pressed her spine against the concession counter, determined not to shrink away as Tony again approached her. Instinctively, she realized he respected her—in his own warped way—because she hadn’t shown the fear raging inside.
Even when he’d burned her with his cigarette.
Terror crouched inside her, ready to pounce and tear her composure to shreds. She clung to anger, using it as a welcome shield to beat back the fear. She touched trembling fingers to the blister on the side of her neck. Tony hadn’t been able to force her to talk to Con and arrange Con’s surrender. She’d walk into hell barefoot and naked before letting herself be used as bait.
Tony towered over her, obsidian eyes snapping. The blood-red theater lights creased his rugged face in hard lines. “In spite of your denials, I knew you weren’t alone out there. You’re a quivering little librarian. You couldn’t even kill a bug, much less take out my crew, cupcake.”
The burly man named Rico, the one who had captured her, snorted. He and Tony were the only bank robbers left standing. And then there were two. She and Con had leveled the odds. “I don’t know, boss. You should ask Jace about that.”
Tony ignored him and moved closer to Bailey. “Who is it? Who’s been helping you?”
She gritted her teeth and remained