Chapter 20 #2
Indy actually knew Derek from their time in the Army, although not well, since Derek was a Ranger and Indy was a Green Beret.
But they’d been on a few shared missions together, and Derek recognized Indy right away.
After they both sized each other up and exchanged those distinctive chin lifts I always see Indy and his teammates use, they talked for a few minutes about people they both knew back from their days in the service.
Before we said goodbye, I asked Derek about his 5K and told him how sorry I was to have missed it. And he told me not to worry about it, that they’d do the 5K again next year, and that Indy and I should both come back to DC to run it next time.
So that was nice. And maybe I’ll even consider a trip back to DC next year, as long as Indy comes, too. Maybe.
“So, a 5K huh?” Indy asks, seemingly reading my mind. “I didn’t realize you like to run.”
“I don’t.” I smile at him. “But it was for a good cause. So I thought I could jog in the back, along with the senior citizens.”
Indy’s brows pull together. “In the back with the senior citizens? Am I missing something?”
“Because I’ll be going so slowly. Since I don’t run, I mean. Although I remember Derek saying that a sixty-something guy came in third for a 5K he did. So maybe the senior citizens will be faster than me.”
Chuckling, he says, “Well, if you want to start running—”
“I don’t,” I interject. “I like Pilates. And the free weights in the B and A gym. But running? No thanks. I’ll just be at the very back of the race, getting lapped by the little kids.”
Indy laughs again. Then his smile sobers. “It doesn’t matter when you finish, Bea. The important part is that you tried.”
“True.” I swing our joined hands a little as we start walking again. “That’s very true.”
Indy looks at me. Something deeper than affection reflects in his gaze. “Bea. I know this isn’t the best place to tell you. But—”
He cuts himself off as tires squeal nearby.
His hand tightens around mine.
Then he pulls me towards the next row of cars, not full-out running, but not walking, either.
My heart jumps.
But it’s nothing. Just someone in a hurry to leave. Or running late for their shift and racing to get here.
“Bea.” Indy’s voice is low. Urgent. “Hurry. I don’t like this.”
Obediently, I pick up my pace. “Indy. I’m sure it’s nothing. Sometimes people—”
An engine roars.
Tires squeal again.
I glance to my right, in the direction of the sound.
A black SUV bears down on us, its engine gunning and tires peeling.
My heart stops.
Time seems to freeze.
The headlights speed closer, like two beams searching.
Locking onto me and Indy.
Targeting us.
I know I need to move faster.
But my legs don’t want to move.
This can’t be happening.
Any second now, the SUV will slam on the brakes. The driver will roll down the window, apologizing profusely, explaining how they’re late for work and they just—
What? Didn’t see two people right in front of them?
“MOVE!” Indy shouts. Then he shoves me ahead of him.
I stumble forward; visions of tripping and getting run down right in the parking lot flash before me.
Or Indy.
Oh, God. Indy. He’s behind me now. What if the SUV misses me but hits him?
An entire lifetime spins through my mind in an instant.
Living with Indy. Getting engaged. Marrying him. Getting our first pet. Maybe even having kids. Growing old together.
I can’t lose him.
Then Indy pulls me down beside a parked car, his body curving around me.
Thankful tears spring to my eyes.
He’s alive. We’re safe.
“Shit,” Indy hisses. “Who the fuck—”
“Bea!” someone shouts from a distance.
No. Not someone. Derek.
My brain immediately denies it.
Derek wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
“Stay down,” Indy orders. “Call Rafe. Now.”
Then he stands up, and my heart stops all over again.
“Stay down!” I plead. “It’s not safe. Derek—”
“Bea! Indy!”
It’s Derek again.
He sounds worried. Even scared. But murderous?
Indy pulls out his gun from beneath his shirt. As tires squeal again, he fires off a shot. And another.
“Indy. Please. Stay down.”
“I need to stop him,” Indy replies. His voice is dangerously calm. “I need to know who it is.”
“Derek?” I ask. “Could it be—”
“Fuck!” Derek appears beside us, breathing hard. “What the fuck? Someone tried to hit you. Shit!”
“Derek!” I blurt. And I’m so thankful he wasn’t the one driving, I start to cry. “I don’t know what’s happening. The SUV…”
“Stay with her,” Indy tells Derek. “I shot out one of the tires. I need—”
“Of course.” Derek whips out a gun. Then he crouches beside me, his weapon drawn as he scans our surroundings.
Indy touches my shoulder. “I’ll be right back. I promise. Just stay here. Don’t move this time. Please.”
And before I can respond, he’s off and running.
“Indy, no!”
My body wants to go after him. So does my heart. But Derek grabs my arm firmly and says, “Bea. I know. But he’s got it.”
How does he know? I want to ask. He can’t know for sure.
The driver could run Indy over, flat tire or not. Or Indy could get shot.
I hug my knees, rocking against the fear flooding through me.
I never told Indy I love him. I was going to, but with the craziness of the last two days, it never seemed to be the right time.
But stupidly, I thought there was time.
I thought that because we’d already escaped death, we were safe.
So stupid.
I should have told him.
Not far away, a car door slams.
Derek tenses.
One silent second turns into an eternity.
Then.
“What the FUCK are you doing?”
Indy!
I try to stand, but Derek pulls me back down.
Something clunks against metal.
A man shouts in pain.
My chest almost explodes with fear.
Then I hear Indy snap, “Don’t try anything. Or I will shoot you. Right here. Right now. Don’t think I won’t. After everything I’ve dealt with this week, I don’t have patience for your shit.”
“He’s got him,” Derek reports. “The driver. Indy’s got him. He’s pinned against the car. Looks like… Nice. Zip ties. I should start carrying those. He’s zip-tying the guy’s wrists. And now he’s taking him to the ground.”
That’s more than enough for me.
Jerking my arm from Derek’s grip, I leap up and out from behind the car.
“Bea, wait,” Derek says. “Not yet.”
But I’ve waited long enough.
I start running towards the SUV at the end of the aisle.
The SUV lists slightly to one side, with its left tire flat. A man is lying on the ground, his wrists bound behind him. And standing over the man, gun aimed at him with one hand and a phone clutched in the other, is Indy.
He looks okay. But I’m too far away to know for sure. So I speed up, distractedly thinking that maybe I wouldn’t be too bad at a 5K after all.
When Indy notices me running towards him, he shakes his head. As soon as I’m within speaking range, he asks, “What part of stay there didn’t you hear, Bea?”
I know I shouldn’t hug him, not while he’s holding a gun on the man who tried to run us over, but—
“You!” the man snaps.
I look at the man. His face is covered with blood. His nose is crooked. But I recognize him, just the same.
My jaw drops. “Greg?”
His face twists into a scowl. “How dare you come back here after what you did?”
“What?” I can’t form more words than that.
“You killed her,” Greg accuses. “You killed Jenna. Somehow, you convinced the police you’re innocent. But I know the truth. You killed her. And now you have the nerve to come back here? To the scene—”
Indy kicks him. “Shut. Up.”
“I didn’t.” My body goes hot and cold at once. “I would never. I didn’t. I swear.”
“You did!” Greg bellows. “Your fingerprints were on the knife!”
From behind me, Derek says, “I can watch him. If you trust me.”
Indy stares at Derek for a long second. Then he nods. “Don’t let him move a muscle. The police are on their way.”
Derek steps into position. He looks nothing like the man I met in his therapy sessions. Now he looks like the warrior I know he once was.
Indy trades places with him, coming to my side. Then he pulls me into his arms and buries his face in my hair. “Shit. Shit.” He strokes my hair with a shaking hand. “Ah, shit, Bea.”
“Derek told me you had Greg tied up,” I say. “I didn’t leave the car until after that.”
“Shit. He could have hit you,” Indy says. His heart thunders against my chest.
“But he didn’t. You saved me. Again.”
“I shouldn’t have had to. You should have been safe. Greg—” Indy mutters an unintelligible curse. “He was clean. We checked. We watched him.”
“You killed Jenna!” Greg howls. “I want—” His voice cracks. “I want—”
“I didn’t.” Pulling free of Indy, I walk over to Greg, stopping a few feet away.
Then I look at him, really look at him, and say, “Jenna was my friend. I cared about her a lot. I know you miss her. I do, too. But I didn’t hurt her.
Someone named Manny Davis did. Because she saw something he didn’t want her to. I found Jenna after, and—”
The rest of the words stick in my throat. Swallowing hard, I add, “I didn’t hurt her, Greg. And I miss her every day.”
Indy comes to my side. His arm comes around me. “I caught Jenna’s killer. He confessed. It’s horrible, and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. But the man who took Jenna from you is in jail.”
Greg stares at Indy. “But.”
“I’m fucking furious at you,” Indy continues in that carefully calm voice he gets when he’s trying hard not to lose his temper.
“And if you try anything, if you even think about going after Bea again, I’ll kill you and not lose a second of sleep over it.
But I can tell you this. The man who killed Jenna?
He’s going to be punished. I will make sure of it. ”
There’s another part to it. An unspoken part that Indy hasn’t admitted to, but I still know to be true.
If Manny or Mack somehow get off, Indy and his friends will take care of them.
And I’m okay with it.
Sirens approach, and Indy pulls away from Greg, who’s now crying.
And though he just tried to kill us, I can’t help feeling sorry for him.
“Bea,” Indy says gently. His gaze sweeps across my face. He thumbs a tear from my cheek. “I’m so sorry. I wish—”
“I love you.”
He blinks. “What?”
“I love you. I should have said it before, but I thought we had more time. Which is stupid. There’s no reason to wait. I love you. Not falling in love. I. Love. You. With all my heart. I know it’s soon, but it’s how I feel. And—”
“Bea.” It’s said on an exhaled breath. “I love you.” Indy frames my face with his hands and holds my gaze. “I love you. I was waiting, too. I didn’t want to rush… But you’re so right. Both of us should know by now…”
I press my lips to his.
The sirens grow louder.
Flashing lights bounce off the cars around us.
“I love you,” I repeat once we break the kiss. “And I know this isn’t the most romantic time to say it. But I do. And I don’t want to wait another minute for you to know how I feel.”
“Bea.”
That look in his eyes is back. But now I recognize it for what it is.
Love.
“I love you,” he says. “And I don’t care about romance. Well. I do. I want to do all the romantic things for you. Flowers and dates and fancy pots that we can’t tell your mom about. But you’re right. Saying I love you? There’s no wrong time for that.”
“Indy.”
And despite the chaos of the situation, the fact that we could have been killed, that police cars are swarming around us and there are two people witnessing our first time saying we love each other, it’s true.
There’s no wrong time to say I love you.