All I Want(73)

“Get the f*ck out of here, then,” Parker said.

Carver’s eyes lit with malice and greed and triumph as he backed to the door. But one last time he aimed his gun at Zoe. “If you change your mind,” he said to Parker, “if the authorities stop me now or when I land, all bets are off. She will pay for your mistake.”

A month ago Parker wouldn’t have been able to fathom this, letting Carver walk. His need for vengeance wouldn’t have allowed it, but he had something to live for now. And it wasn’t the job. Fuck the job. He stepped in front of Zoe so that Carver’s gun was aimed at him instead. He looked at the son of a bitch with cold steadiness. “Go.”

Carver nodded once, and then he was gone.

Parker turned and pulled Zoe in, wrapping her in his arms as close as he could get her. Then he pulled back, taking her in with one quick sweeping gaze, not seeing any injuries.

“I’m okay,” she said.

He lifted her chin and looked straight into her eyes.

“Really,” she said.

“You’re shaking.”

“Like a leaf,” she agreed. “But I’m not hurt.”

He nodded and yanked her back in, holding her too tight and he knew it, but he couldn’t make himself loosen his grip.

“Parker? You heard me, right? I’m fine.”

“I’m not,” he said, and buried his face in her hair.

She let out a watery laugh and squeezed him back just as tight. Christ. If anyone had asked him an hour ago how he reacted to stress, he’d have shrugged and said stress wasn’t one of his problems.

That had changed in a blink. He had little experience with the level of terror he’d just experienced, and he didn’t want to ever feel it again. Far more importantly, he didn’t want Zoe to ever feel it again.

It was hard to see past the little black dots floating in Zoe’s vision—a side effect from holding her breath so long—but she didn’t need to see in order to absorb the feel of Parker’s arms around her.

She could’ve stayed right here forever.

But eventually Parker pulled back, keeping one of her hands in his as he kicked in the doors of the four bathroom stalls.

“There was no one with him,” she said. “At least n-not that I saw.” Great, now she was shaking and stuttering.

“Only a few more minutes, Zoe,” he said with quiet understanding.

She started to say she was still fine, but her teeth were chattering now. As if from a great distance she felt Parker tighten his grip on her hand and pull her from the bathroom. He led her down the hall, slowing his long-legged stride to match hers.

In the front reception area, he pushed her into one of the chairs and squatted in front of her. “Take a few deep breaths,” he said quietly. Calm steel.

As she did just that, he kept one hand on her and with the other pulled out his cell. “Sharon,” he said. “Carver just took an outbound flight from Sunshine Airport. Tell me you got everything you needed from him—Yeah, I do realize you would have rather I called you before he took off, but there were extenuating circumstances—Such as? Such as I had to make a deal to keep someone I care about safe. We can’t tail him. Now did everyone get what they needed from him or not?” Eyes on Zoe, he let out a breath and briefly closed his eyes. “Okay, good. Yes, I’m sure you do want to talk to me. Later.” He disconnected and hit another number.

Zoe couldn’t imagine who he was calling now, but the mystery was immediately solved.

“Kel,” Parker said. “Incident at the airport. You’ll want to come down here and get it on record personally.” He disconnected and slid his phone away. It was already ringing, but he didn’t pull it back out or take his eyes off Zoe. “Joe,” he said in his normal speaking voice, and how he’d known Joe was heading his way, Zoe would never know. “I need a soda for Zoe.”

Shocking the hell out of Zoe, Joe did an about-face and headed for the soda machine against the far wall without a word. “Can you teach me how to do that?” she whispered.

Joe came back and handed Zoe the soda.

“Sip it,” Parker said. “It helps with shock.” He rose to his feet and said a few quiet words to Joe that she couldn’t catch—undoubtedly telling Joe some version of a story about what had just happened and that the authorities were on their way.

She closed her eyes a moment and then Parker was back, crouched in front of her, his face a mask of concern.

“You told me to stay,” she said. “Stay.”

“Which, by the way, you didn’t do.”

“Because I’m not a dog,” she said.

He dropped his head and studied his feet a moment, whether to control his temper or resist strangling her, she had no idea. “If there’s danger and you’re with me and I ask you to do something like stay, then I have to know you’ll do just that.”

“You didn’t ask,” she said. “You told. And even if two out of three siblings agree with you, I would’ve liked to be asked.”

He just looked at her. “Drink the soda.”

“I’m fine!” And pissed to boot, it seemed. “And define ‘with you.’”

“In a relationship.”

“You don’t do relationships,” she said. “And it’s no wonder, you can’t even have a real conversation. Asking me to stay would have meant a question mark at the end of your sentence. Like, ‘Hey, Zoe, could you wait here a sec?’ Or how about ‘I’m about to go jump right into harm’s way, don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing, the big bad caveman’s got it all covered.’”