Page 100 of Under Pressure

“Now!” Sean yelled.

Wolfe tossed something off the top of the bus against the far wall, it clanged, and Jonah twisted to see what was there. Blue jabbed him in the ribs and ducked away from him, and then Sean lunged.

Jonah turned right into Sean’s fist. He crumpled, but Sean grabbed his collar and pummeled him over and over again. He planned to hit him for every tear that fell from Blue’s eyes.

“It’s done.” Wolfe grabbed Sean and pulled him away from Jonah. Jonah slumped to the ground. Wolfe nodded over his shoulder to Blue. She sat in a heap on the floor where she’d ducked and then fallen. “Go get her.”

Sean stepped around Wolfe, and in two steps, had Blue up and in his arms. She grasped at him, digging her hands into his shoulders with all her might, and he squeezed her tight against him. “Are you all right?”

Her breathing came hard and she trembled against him. “That was so scary.”

He kissed her on the temple, and breathed her in—breathed in her scent that smelled an awful lot like his bodywash, and sent a wash of possessiveness through him. “I know, baby. It’s all over now.”

And it was. The room had gone completely silent.

Sean caught Wolfe’s eye over Blue’s head, and Wolfe pointed over his shoulder toward the room. Sean nodded, and Blue turned just as Wolfe dragged Jonah with him behind the bus to help wrap up whatever else needed wrapping up.

Blue gripped him tighter to her, her little fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I’m never leaving you again,” Sean said, letting the truth of the words hang over them. Gramps was right. The witness protection and court martial were mere nuisances in comparison to the thought of ever letting her out of his arms again. “And I’m not letting you go either.”

Relaxing her grip just enough that she could lean back and look up at him, Blue asked, “What are you saying?”

“We’re in this together. Forever. Where you go. I go.”

Another tear slid down her cheek, and then she laughed. Before he could speak, ask what she found so funny, she’d pushed up onto her toes and kissed him. Smooth, plump lips that tasted of salty tears and joy, that moved with his like they were made to, like they’d always be meant to mold to his, just as her body molded to his now.

And it was everything. Warm sunshine, good surf, the cool embrace of the ocean, Nonna’s hugs, Grandpa’s wishes for him, and oh, so much more. It was everything he’d ever wanted for his future. A house, a family, a big dog, children, and a wife he loved beyond reason. As her petal soft lips moved over his, he saw it all.

Then, she yanked back, and the room blurred as he tried to focus on what was happening.

“Dad!” Blue grabbed his hand and pulled him after her around the bus.

Jonah’s men were sprawled out on the floor, tallest to shortest—a quirk of Mack’s—hands on their heads. From the big holes in the floor and sides of boats, cars, and more, Seanguessed Gray had used his rifle to herd the men where he wanted them until they were too terrified to do anything else. He’d seen Gray use that move before. Soren St. James or . . . Ryker Rockefeller—weirdest coincidence ever—stood beside Mack and Gray, rubbing his wrists. Blue released his hand and ran into her dad’s arms. “You’re okay.”

Her dad hugged her back. “What did I tell you to do if I ever got caught?” he said gruffly.

Blue leaned away, then looked for Sean, and grabbed his hand once more before responding to her dad. “I’m not leaving you, Dad. Not ever.”

“Blue . . .” Soren shook his head. He wasn’t happy with that answer. Sean couldn’t say he was entirely thrilled either. Not that he wanted Soren hurt. Before this was all over, Blue would have to tell him everything. If they had a target hanging over their heads, he needed to know which direction the shots were coming from.

An echoing thud of a metal door hitting drywall reverberated around the warehouse, along with the sounds of the storm, and feet rushing into the room. “U.S. Marshalls, everyone hands on your heads!”

A middle-aged balding man with a grim demeanor led the troops.

The SEAL team lowered their guns but did not put their hands on their heads.

“Stroup, stop,” Blue said, rushing in front of Sean and his team. “These guys are on our side. They saved us.”

Sean grabbed her around the waist and slowly dragged her back to him. He really wished she’d stop throwing herself into danger.

Stroup paused.

Mack stepped forward with his military ID.

Stroup took it, looked it over, and then turned his full attention to Mack. “Lieutenant, do you want to tell me what in the blazes is going on here?”

“I can explain everything.” Gramps pushed through the back of the crowd looking angrier than a wet cat and, well, wetter than a wet cat.

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