Carly Phillips - Lucky Streak

He shook his head and laughed. “Come on, that’s water under the bridge. I knew King Bobby wouldn’t hurt a woman. I was just waiting until the heat was off to come find you.”

“So you hid behind my skirts? That’s low, even for you,” she muttered.

He gripped her arm tight and she realized her mistake. She’d let his friendly veneer fool her into thinking she was safe.

“Drop the tough-guy routine, Marshall, it’s me. We can talk this through.” She hoped. “What is it you want?”

“You. Me. Things back the way they were.” His voice held a hint of desperation, but he released his grip, which told her he was sure he could reason with her.

He’d kidnapped her father and used him as leverage. Even if Amber hadn’t opted out of the life for her own reasons, there was no way in hell she’d trust Marshall on any level now. She may have once viewed him as her salvation, but now she saw him as he truly was-a shell of a man, a pathetic con artist, and nothing more. But she knew better than to let her true feelings slip again. Especially when she looked into the dark depths of Marshall’s eyes and saw nothing there.

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.