Home > Rapture (Fallen Angels #4)(56)

Rapture (Fallen Angels #4)(56)
Author: J.R. Ward

Tony’s palm landed on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She took a deep breath as they began to rise. “Don’t ask me that until we get upstairs. Between my car accident and what just happened, I’m worried there’s another big crash coming my way. Things happen in threes, you know.”

“That’s just superstition.”

“I hope you’re right.” To think she’d been worried about the morning coffee stain/fingernail three-pletion. This current streak of catastrophe she had going on was way over and above anything that could be handled with a Tide-to-Go and an emery board…. after a moment, she said, “Ah, Tony, I have another favor to ask you.” God, was she really going to do this?

“Name it.”

“Remember when I asked if you knew someone in ballastics? I need a bullet casing analyzed.”

“Oh yeah, sure—I got a couple of guys I can call. What’s your timeline?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Let me make some calls and see who’d be willing to do it for you.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Nah. That guy down in the basement? He’s the hero.”

“Don’t shortchange yourself.”

As they arrived at the lobby, she stepped out and…well, what do you know. Jim Heron, or his twin brother—or whatever—was waiting across the way, lounging against the wall, looking as inconspicuous as any six-foot-plus guy who was built like a brick shithouse could be.

Putting her hand on Tony’s arm, she stopped him and gave him back his keys. “Hey, I’m going to cab it home, okay?”

Her friend frowned. “I can take you back—it’s not that far out of the way.”

“I’m going to head over to the newsroom—”

“It’s late and we’ve had a hell of a night already.”

True enough—and chances were good she was going to be reliving the near miss for a while. But she wasn’t losing her chance to talk to the superhero who’d stepped in at just the right time…and who now appeared to be waiting for her.

Mels leaned in and gave her buddy a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tony said good night and ambled off toward the revolving doors. As he took out his phone, she was willing to bet he was calling for takeout, and for some reason that made her like him even more.

Pivoting around, she clashed eyes with Heron—or whoever he was—and found his casual stance was nothing to be fooled by. His size alone was vaguely threatening, and that grim expression didn’t make her think of daisies and daffodils, either.

And yet she wasn’t afraid as she went over to him.

Bullshit this man was a twin…

Then again, why hang around a public place where someone might recognize him as she had?

“I thought you’d left,” she said.

“Nah, I’ve been here all along.”

“Business at the hospital?”

“You could say that.”

“Security wants to talk to you.”

“I’m sure they do.”

As he fell silent, she waited for something, anything, to come back at her. There was nothing. He just stood there, meeting her stare as if he were prepared to do that for the next hundred years.

“I suppose I should thank you for saving my life,” she muttered.

“No reason to. I’m not sentimental.”

“Well, you look like you’ve got something to say to me—”

“Matthias needs you.”

Her brows popped; then she glanced away fast. And even though she’d heard him just fine, she muttered, “I’m sorry?”

“Can you come with me? He’s back at the hotel.”

Mels looked at the man again. “No offense, but I’m not going anywhere with anybody. And if you don’t mind my asking”—not that she cared if he was offended down to the tips of his combat boots—“what is he to you?”

“An old friend who I’m trying to help. He hasn’t been right for a long time, and the way he talks about you gives me hope.”

Now she just blinked. “He doesn’t know me any better than I know him.”

“Does that really matter?”

She laughed in a hard burst. “Ah…yeah. It does.”

Jim Heron’s “twin” shook his head. “Look, I’ve been worried about him for years, okay? He’s heading for a brick wall right now, flailing around, searching for purpose, and I’m exactly that kind of ass**le to drag anything and anyone into this who will help him find his way.”

“And you think that’s me?”

“No. I know it’s you.”

She let loose another laugh. “Well, you should have seen who he was having breakfast with earlier today.”

The man cursed. “Let me guess. Brunette with legs down to there?”

“As a matter of fact…yes. Who is she?”

“Bad news.” The guy shoved a hand through his dark blond hair. “Please—look, I just…I really need your help. I can’t go into specifics, but Matthias and I were in the service together for twenty years, and I don’t need to tell you what war does to people. You’re a reporter. You’re a human being. You can extrapolate from there. He needs…a reason for living.”

She thought of the gun at the small of Matthias’s back. Then remembered him curling his body into her as they stood in the parking lot behind the CCJ’s offices.

I’m leaving soon.

“If you think he’s a danger to himself,” she said roughly, “you should be calling the proper authorities. Other than that…I’m really sorry. But I can’t do this—”

“Please.” The man’s eyes seemed to shimmer, not with tears, but with a light that reminded her of sunrise on the ocean. “He’s come too far to lose everything now.”

Boy, those pupils of his were hypnotic. And she had the sense that she had stared into them before…stared into them and…

As that headache came back, she closed her eyes and wondered if she had any Advil in her purse. “Why the hell do you think I’m any kind of answer for the guy?” Except even as she tossed that out, she thought of the connection between them and knew exactly what Heron-whoever-he-was was talking about. “I shouldn’t matter this much to him.”

Make that, he shouldn’t matter this much to her.

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