Page 84 of Wicked Rush

Chapter Twenty-Two

I love you.Lars’ chest ached. He’d gone most of his adult life without ever uttering the words, but as she revealed her greatest secret, Lars couldn’t have been any more certain of his own feelings.

“I love you, too.” A surge of melancholy seized him, as his lips brushed her hair.

Telling her while she slept was the best he could manage, given it’d be likely she’d leave in the morning. With little evidence to convict her uncle, she’d most certainly have to go into hiding. Lars struggled to work through a scenario where they could stay together. Giving up his life and company in San Diego to follow her out of the country simply wasn’t an option. People counted on his leadership, their careers, livelihoods and families depending on his innovative direction to ensure the company’s solvency. While he often worked out of the office, he’d been a committed presence at DLar-Tech.

A weekend.It’d been all he promised. But as he’d discovered her playful, trusting nature, he’d grown attached. The thought of letting Braelynn walk out of his life ravaged his soul. The devastating loss would come swift and hard.

Lars closed his eyes, attempting to memorize every contour of her body, the touch of her skin, her laugh. He sighed, allowing the scent of his woman to infiltrate his senses. With her in his arms, he was home. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, praying that a solution would come to him in a dream. As sleep captured Lars, drawing him into her thick web, he drifted into a fantasy where she was his forever.

“Hmm.” Lars stirred. He blinked his eyes open to find Brae, curled onto her side, smiling at him.

“Hi.” Her palm brushed over his rough beard and he grinned.

“Hi.” Lars reached over her waist and jerked her toward him. “How do you feel?”

“I feel so good when I’m with you.” She pressed her lips to his, peppering his face with kisses.

“God, I love…” Lars hedged, retracting the confession that had almost passed through his lips. “I love being with you.”

“I don’t want this to end.” Although he couldn’t read her expression, the tremble in her voice gave her away.

“No matter what happens, Brae, it’s only temporary.”

“But I won’t see you,” she began, her words trailing into silence. Warm tears brushed his shoulder and guilt pierced his chest.

“Please don’t cry.” Lars silently admonished his lack of empathy. Is that all you have? God, I’m an asshole. He was a problem solver, and couldn’t accept that he hadn’t yet figured out how to keep her safe and in his life.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…Lars…” She paused, and lifted her gaze to meet his. “I want you to know. This weekend, I loved being with you. I know it’s crazy for me to say that. I broke into your house…tried to break in.” She gave a small laugh. “We stole research. Got shot at. I don’t mean that stuff. But everything else? I’d do it all again if it meant getting to be with you.”

“Aw, sweetheart, I don’t know how things are going to play out but this is not the end. I just need some time.” Lars knew Garrett would arrive within hours, take the data and Braelynn would have to go with him. He expected after it was all said and done, they’d come up with a plan to see each other. But at the moment, getting her to safety was paramount.

“You really think so? Because I’m not sure. Garrett, I know he’s your friend, and part of me knows why he did what he did, but when I’ve talked to him and Dean, they’ve always been pretty sure I couldn’t return. My uncle, he’s not going to take this lying down. I wish I had something on him, but aside from killing my cat and roughing me up…it’s not enough.”

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her.

“I know I can’t stay. This is the way it has to be.”

“You won’t be alone.”

“It’s okay. Really. I know what’s coming. I can do this.” Braelynn nodded. With the back of her hand, she swiped at the tear that streaked down her cheek.

Lars tensed as she pulled out of his embrace, noting the change in her demeanor. A switch had gone off inside her. The light in her eyes dimmed, and she averted her gaze. She pushed out of the bed onto her feet and set off toward the bathroom without saying another word.

Lars leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes. Fuck. Anger exploded through him, and he shoved out of bed. Swiping a pair of shorts out of his drawer, he made quick work of dressing. He took a deep breath, glancing at the stream of light that spilled through the crack onto the bedroom floor.

The sound of running water tempted him. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but he resisted. Reality had set in and giving in to emotions was a futile use of energy. The only solution was to stop her uncle, to find enough evidence to put him away. He’d found an adventurous woman to match his fire, and there was no way in hell he’d give her up without a fight.

Lars took off down the hallway and made a beeline for his office. Flipping on the light, he slammed the door and a painting fell off the wall, the glass shattering onto the floor. Disgusted with the situation, he tore open the file and began to pore through it one more time. Inspecting each page, he searched for answers.

Lars pounded his fist onto his desk, frustrated he hadn’t found one shred of evidence to tie Giordano to the stolen research or the shooting. A loud rumble echoed through the windows, the familiar whirl of helicopter blades tearing through the wind. Garrett. What is he doing in a heli? Garrett had told him he was driving up with Dean, feds in tow. As much as he loathed the thought of Braelynn’s departure, they’d assured him that he’d bring his people to shepherd them to a secure location.

Lars shoved to his feet, closing the file and sealing it. His eyes went to the safe, where he’d kept the chip. But as he strode across the room, the roar of the blades continued, sending a chill up his spine. Garrett had planned on staying for at least the morning, and would have immediately cut the engines. His mind rapidly processed the inconsistency, registering alarm. Without hesitation, he slid open a hidden compartment underneath his desk drawer. Retrieving the loaded Glock, he slid out the magazine, examining the seventeen rounds. Satisfied it was fully loaded, he clicked it back into place, and jammed three extra cartridges into his pocket.

He glanced to his bare feet and cursed, wishing he’d worn shoes. Not a floorboard creaked as Lars skirted across the hardwood floor with stealth movement. He wrapped his fingers around the door handle, slowly twisting it open, and stole a glimpse down the hallway, checking for intruders. Quietly, he descended and prayed like hell that Braelynn was locked in the bedroom. But as he heard her and male voices echo up the stairway, his stomach dropped. Their loud argument resonated through the house. An ear-piercing scream ensued, spearing terror through his chest.

As he tore down the steps, Lars’ heart caught as he spied Armand Giordano dragging Braelynn by her hair, holding a gun to her head.