“That’s close to even,” Luke said. “But you aren’t there yet.”
“Close is better than nothing,” Jesse said, joining Luke. “Where’s Hendrix? He disappeared on me.”
“He’s Dragonfly,” Julie said, “and how do we get out of here?”
“Everyone okay down there?” Royce shouted from above.
“All clear,” Luke shouted.
“Batman has arrived,” Blake said, appearing on the stairs, two guns in his hand. “Hendrix is dead. Three others in custody. Two others escaped.”
Royce followed Blake down the stairs. “How is it you lost your phone again?”
“We have the same phone, brother dearest. He grabbed mine. And in case you didn’t notice, that’s what warned us about Hendrix before it was too late.” Sirens screamed above ground. “The cavalry has arrived.”
Luke went over to Julie, who was staring at the dead bodies, the gun still in her hand. “You okay?” he asked, removing the gun from her hand.
She nodded, lifted her gaze to his. “I love you.”
“What?” he asked, shocked by the sudden confession.
“I love you and I should have told you before now, and I don’t want to risk ending up like them and you never knowing. I love you.”
He shoved the gun into his coat and wrapped his arms around her. “I love you, too.”
She blinked. “You do?”
“Yes. I do.”
Murphy rushed down the stairs. “Arel’s house is cleared out and we just got a call from a motel a few blocks away. The judge and Julie’s secretary were found dead.”
Blake scrubbed his jaw. “You really know how to mess up a romance novel moment, man.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Julie was exhausted by early morning when she, Luke, and his brothers returned to the Walker apartment. The questions had been many, the answers not as easily found as everyone wanted. The missing agent was most likely dead. Gina and the judge were dead. Arel had disappeared along with every known operation he’d been involved with that the task force had known about.
Julie looked around Luke’s kitchen, eying Luke’s brothers and Lauren, with an odd feeling of belonging she’d never before experienced. She sat on Luke’s lap, as Lauren did Royce’s. Blake, as usual, was eating, stuffing his third donut in his mouth. To watch them together made her experience a little part of something warm and wonderful that she had never known. To be with them helped make the night’s tragedy just a little more bearable.
“Have a donut,” Blake said to Julie pushing the box in her direction.
“I’m too tired to eat,” she said.
“I’m never too tired to eat,” Blake commented, and the room broke into laughter.
“Yes, we know,” Julie said smiling.
Blake finished off his donut and stood up. “Time for beddy-bye.”
“Us too,” Royce said and Lauren climbed off his lap.
“I know you’re tired,” Lauren said to Julie, “but tomorrow let’s talk about you leaving divorce behind and coming to work with my new firm.”
“Yes,” Julie said. “I’d like that.” She was ready to leave the past behind, ready to take some risks.
Goodbyes were said, and soon Julie was alone with Luke. She had no idea what had gotten into her, but now that she’d taken the step to confess her love for Luke, she was feeling daring all over again.
“Luke,” she said, caressing his cheek. “Will you marry me?”
Luke stared at her, a stunned look on his face before his lips curved into a smile. “You know you just stole my thunder, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Us macho Walker men like to go down on one knee and propose properly. And I’m supposed to have the ring first.”
“Oh, right,” she said, smiling at his response. “So, now what do we do?”
He set her on her feet and then back in the chair and went down on one knee. “Julie. Will you marry me?”
She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling like she was home for the first time in her life.
THE END
Beneath the Secrets
Out Now
Blake’s Story!
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Excerpt from the highly acclaimed
IF I WERE YOU
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Chapter One
Excerpt:
When the gallery comes into view, I pause to watch a group of elegantly dressed visitors pour through its double glass doors, which are lined in shiny silver for the black-tie affair. Artsy swirls of red letters, displayed above the entry, spell allure.
Nerves flutter in my stomach, though I can’t say why. I love the contemporary art Allure specializes in, love their mix of local new artists who I can discover, as well as the established names whose work I already appreciate. My nerves are ridiculous. I’m uncomfortable in this world, but then, this isn’t my world. It’s Rebecca’s, and Rebecca is the real reason I’m here.
A glance at my dainty, handmade, gold wristwatch, also bought at the pier, confirms I have plenty of time to spare. It is seven forty-five, fifteen minutes until Alvarez will be unveiling a new painting that will be displayed in the gallery and up for silent auction through the end of the week. Oh, how I’d love to have an Alvarez original, but they don’t come cheap. Still, a girl can dream.
Excitement filters in with nerves as I rush toward the door. A young brunette woman in a simple black dress holds it open for me and offers me a smile.“Welcome.”
I return the smile and enter the gallery, noting the nervous energy bouncing off the twentysomething girl as I pass, an energy that seems to what I am doing.” This isn’t Rebecca, who I know will be daringly bold and confident. In fact, the hostess brings out the schoolteacher in me, and I fight the urge to give her a hug and tell her she’s doing fine. I’m a hugger. I got it from my mother, just like I did my love of art, only I wasn’t talented with a brush as she had been.
The girl is saved from my mothering when the sound of a piano playing from a distant corner filters through the air and draws my attention to the main showroom. I am in awe. This isn’t my first time visiting the four-thousand-square-foot wonder that is the Allure gallery, but it doesn’t diminish my excitement at seeing it again.
The entryway opens to the main showroom of glistening white wonder. The walls are snow-white; the floor glistens like white diamonds. The shiny divider walls curve like abstract waves, and each of them is adorned with contrasting, eye- popping, colorful artwork.
I turn away from the showroom, attending to business before pleasure, and present my ticket to a hostess behind a podium. She is tall and elegant with long raven hair.“Rebecca?” I ask hopefully.
“No, sorry,” she says. “I’m Tesse.” She holds up a finger as she glances through the glass doors at an approaching customer she needs to attend. I wait patiently, hoping this young woman can connect me with Rebecca. I listen attentively while she directs the new guest to a short stairway that leads toward the music and, apparently, the location where Ricco Alvarez will be unveiling his masterpiece.
“Sorry for the interruption,”Tesse finally says, giving me her full attention. “You were looking for Rebecca. Unfortunately, she isn’t attending tonight’s event. Is there something I can help you with?”