Page 34 of The Captive (The Kelley Legacy #5)

L ana burst out laughing. “You call that easy?” Leave it to her mother to ask the one thing she’d been agonizing over for weeks now.

“Well, do you?” Sarah prodded gently.

She bit her lip, letting the question settle. “Yes,” she confessed. “But he doesn’t love me.”

Before she could stop it, a stream of words rushed out of her mouth. She told her mother everything. The night at the Louvre. The men on the train. The horrifying discovery that Deacon was involved in her abduction. Their time on the run. His final declaration to her.

When she finished, her heart was beating wildly, and her palms went damp as she voiced one last thought. “We don’t have a future, Mom.”

Sarah smoothed the top of Lana’s head. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, for one, he’s not interested. He says he doesn’t want to be a father or a husband. He thinks I deserve better than him.”

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” Lana burst out in frustration.

“From the start, I saw something decent in him. I was convinced that deep down he was a good man. But then he shut down on me. He said some really hurtful things, too. And…and he was involved in my kidnapping! I know he redeemed himself in the end, but maybe he was right all along when he kept telling me he wasn’t a good person. ”

Her mother fell silent for a long moment, then shifted in her chair so they were face to face. “Oh, honey, you still don’t get it, do you?”

Lana faltered. “Get what?”

“Baby, nobody is all good and all bad. We all have our dark moments, our shades of gray.” Sarah sighed. “Do you think Deacon’s actions saved your life?”

“I know they did.”

“And are those the actions of a bad man?”

She bit her lip again. “No, but…”

“But nothing. You know, I’ve always worried about you,” her mother admitted.

“You want everything to be beautiful and perfect. You always have, even as a child, and I supposed that’s admirable in many ways, but it’s also unreasonable at times.

Nobody is perfect, honey. You need to learn to accept the good and the bad.

It’s okay to seek out the best in people, but if you remain blind to their flaws, you’ll only hurt yourself in the end. ”

“Maybe. But none of that matters.” Her eyes stung. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Sure he does.”

She had to grin at her mom’s careless tone. “Oh, does he?”

Sarah began to recite facts. “He protected you from his boss. He helped you escape. And Jim said Deacon threw himself on you when the bullets started flying. That, my darling, is love.”

“Or duty,” she whispered. “He felt he owed me something. How do I know that’s not the reason he did all of that?”

“Well, there’s a simple way to find that out.”

“There is?”

“Ask the man if he loves you,” Sarah said with a tiny smile.

“I would, except he’s in jail,” she pointed out.

“But he doesn’t have to stay there.” Her mother’s smile widened. “We’re Kelleys, honey. Might as well make good use of our connections, no?”

* * *

Deacon paced the small cell, his boots wearing away at the floor.

His shoulders tensed at every noise, every random creak that sounded in the holding area of the police station.

It was foolish, believing someone would actually come and give him news of Hank Kelley’s condition, but he was going crazy not knowing.

Lana would be destroyed if her father died.

He’d actually had to use all his strength to keep her down when the gunshots had been blazing above them, and yet she’d still managed to climb out of his grip to run to her father. He’d never forget the look on her face, that steely determination to get to a person she loved.

Funnily enough, he’d felt that same determination in his own blood. The need to run after Lana and keep her safe had been as powerful and basic as the need to breathe.

He froze in front of the bars as a sudden realization dawned on him.

In that moment, with his self-preservation in jeopardy, his head in danger of meeting a bullet, he’d only been thinking about Lana.

Would his father have done that?

A harsh laugh burst from his mouth. No, he was fairly certain his dad would’ve used his mother’s body as armor to save his own skin.

Pressure squeezed Deacon’s chest. His breathing grew ragged. He’d put Lana first. He’d been doing that since the moment she was abducted from the train station.

What did that mean? Why had he done that?

Because you love her.

He leaned his forehead against the bars, letting the metal cool his suddenly hot skin.

He couldn’t ignore it anymore. From the second he’d met Lana Kelley, he’d been overwhelmed with emotion.

Ridiculously intense emotions. That same intensity had consumed his father and destroyed his mother, but it hadn’t destroyed Lana.

Even when she told him about the pregnancy, after withholding the truth for so long, he hadn’t snapped.

His father would have snapped.

News flash, buddy, you’re not your father.

Deacon sucked in a shock-tinged breath. Clarity sliced into him. No, he wasn’t his father. The destiny he’d always believed lay in store for him…well, that was nothing but a load of bull.

He controlled his destiny. And he couldn’t live his life waiting for the darkness in him to spill out. Couldn’t avoid caring about others in fear that it would.

Damn it, he cared about Lana. He loved her.

Along with the liberating rush of joy that swelled in his belly came the crushing blow of frustration. He was in prison. There was nothing he could do for Lana as long as he was in here, not even tell her how he felt.

A door swung open, bringing a gust of warm air into the somewhat cool holding area. Footsteps came from the end of the block, growing louder and heavier, until one of the FBI agents who’d arrested him stepped into view.

“Looks like you’ve got friends in high places,” the agent announced with a reluctant look.

A uniformed officer approached from behind, already unclipping the key ring from his black leather belt. Deacon fought a spark of hope. No, this couldn’t be happening. Not even Lana had the kind of power to save him from the kidnapping charges hanging over his head. Did she?

His hope deepened when the officer stuck a key into the cell door and pulled it open.

Deacon didn’t move. “What’s going on?” he asked warily.

“You’re free to go,” the federal agent said with a shrug. “There’s a car waiting outside to take you to Helena General.”

Deacon just stood there, thunderstruck.

“Christ, get out here,” the agent grumbled. “I’m not about to keep the Kelleys waiting.”

With legs heavier than lead, Deacon walked out of the cell. Lana had kept her promise. She’d actually saved his ass.

For a moment, he contemplated ordering the car to take him to the airport instead of the hospital. He could disappear. Empty out his bank account, fly to an island somewhere and live his life the way he’d always planned—alone.

But the thought disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Squaring his shoulders, he followed the agent out of the holding area, a smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

Screw living alone.

He’d much rather claim the love of his life and spend the rest of his life doing everything humanly possible to make her happy.

* * *

Lana changed out of the blue hospital gown the doctor had forced her to put on, quickly changing into a pair of clean jeans and the baggy green sweater her mom had thoughtfully brought for her.

She slipped her stockinged feet into comfortable brown loafers, then tied her hair in a loose twist atop her head.

The doctor had given her a clean bill of health after forcing her to endure an uncomfortable pelvic exam and an awe-inspiring ultrasound. The baby was fine. She was fine.

Her father, however, was not.

She sat back down on the gurney, impatience rising inside her.

The doctor had left the room to get her some prenatal vitamins, but she didn’t want to sit here and wait.

Twenty minutes ago, the surgeon who’d operated on her dad had informed the family that Hank was in a medically induced coma.

Although the bullet that had entered his temple had fortunately avoided damaging her father’s brain, the swelling had been impossible to manage.

If it continued to swell, the doctors feared it would result in brain damage, and Lana’s mother promptly signed the consent form allowing them to induce a coma in order to control the swelling.

Lana was eager to see her dad, even though she knew he probably wouldn’t even know she was there. Despite the choices he’d made that had contributed to her abduction, she wanted to be there for him.

The door swung open, and she hopped off the gurney, ready to snatch those vitamins from the doctor’s hands and head back up to ICU.

But it wasn’t the doctor who stood in the doorway.

Her heart flipped as her gaze collided with Deacon’s. He still wore the faded jeans and black sweater he’d had on earlier, and she noticed specks of gravel stuck in his close-cropped hair. But other than that, he looked unharmed.

“He did it,” she breathed.

Deacon moved closer, his hazel eyes flickering with confusion. “Who did what?”

“My uncle Donald. I asked him to help get you out of jail.”

“Well, he succeeded.”

They stared at each other for a few long moments. Lana wanted to hurl herself into his arms, but she forced her feet to stay rooted to the tiled floor. She knew he’d only come here to thank her. Maybe even to say goodbye.

Just because she’d helped set him free didn’t mean he would bow down in front of her and profess his undying love.

Deacon gestured to her belly. “Did the doctor check you out?”

She nodded. “The baby and I are both fine.”

Relief flashed across his face. “Good.”

Another silence descended. “Deacon—”

“Lana—”

She stopped, a fleeting smile crossing her mouth. “You first.”

“I…” He trailed off, his chest rising as he took a deep breath.

And then he swiftly moved toward her and she found herself enveloped by his strong arms. His heartbeat hammered against her chest, his warmth surrounded her, his lips grazed the top of her head. “God, Lana, I’m so glad this is all over. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d been hurt.”

She pressed her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent, spicy and masculine and unbearably heady.

The goodbye would come soon. She knew it.

But she couldn’t bring herself to break free of the embrace.

She felt so small and fragile in his arms. Safe.

Happy. She didn’t want the feeling to go away just yet.

“There’s something I need to say to you.”

Disappointment flattened down on her chest. Slowly, she stepped out of his arms, forcing an indifferent look on to her face. Here it came.

“I know what you’re going to say,” she murmured, averting her eyes. “So don’t bother. I get it, everything you said in the motel room holds true. You don’t want me or this ba—”

“I love you,” he interrupted.

Her head jerked up. “What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion she’d never dreamed she’d hear from him. “So much, sweetheart. And everything I said at the motel—” He laughed harshly. “It was a damned lie.”

Was she hearing things?

“When I first took the job Le Clair offered, I was in it for the money,” he admitted. “And then I met you, and suddenly the money didn’t seem so important anymore. These last two months, the only thing I’ve wanted, the only thing I cared about, was keeping you safe.”

Raw emotion sliced his rough features as he continued. “I figured it was duty, a way to redeem myself, but when I was in that jail cell, I realized I did all that because of you. Because I’m madly in love with you.”

He looked so surprised by his own words she couldn’t help but laugh. Then a thought occurred to her. “Are you sure you’re not just saying all of this because you feel you owe me for getting you out of jail?”

“Oh, I owe you,” he agreed, giving her a rare grin. “But not only because of that. You did the impossible, sweetheart. You made me want to live again. You made me see there’s a light at the end of that dark tunnel, a future within my grasp, if I just quit being afraid to grab on to it.”

Her heart skipped a beat.

“I want to be a different man, Lana. A better one.” His voice cracked endearingly. “And I want to be with you, if you’ll still have me.” The word yes nearly flew out of her mouth, until a dark thought crept into her brain. “You won’t get only me,” she whispered, her hands sliding down to her tummy.

To her astonishment, Deacon covered her hands with his own, wonder seeping into his gaze as he felt the bump at her waist. “I want you both,” he whispered back. “You do?”

He stroked her stomach in the most gentle of caresses. “This child is a miracle. I never wanted to be a father before I met you, but now… I want to take care of you. Both of you.” A smile lit up his face. “Our son or daughter is never going to want for anything. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Love,” she said softly. “That’s all he or she needs. That’s all I need, Deacon.”

He slid his hands up her body, grazing her breasts, touching her neck, then cupped her chin between his warm palms. “Then that’s what you’ll get.”

She leaned into his touch, basking in his tenderness, the softness of his normally hard features. “I love you, Deacon.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his. “We both love you.”

Uncertainty flickered in his gorgeous hazel eyes. “What about your family?”

“They’re going to love you, too.” She grinned. “My mom is already trying to think of ways to repay you for saving my life. And my brothers, well, they’ll come around eventually.”

Deacon looked doubtful. “Come around? To the fact that their little sister is marrying the mercenary who kidnapped her? Make that, unemployed mercenary.”

His brief sentences contained so much startling information she didn’t even know which tidbit to focus on first. She finally chose the one that made her heart soar like a hot air balloon.

“Marrying?” she teased. “Who says I’m marrying you?”

He exuded a surprising glimmer of arrogance. “Our kid can’t be born out of wedlock, sweetheart.”

“Oh, so now you’re Mr. Traditional?”

“Hell, yes.” His lips dropped to her mouth in a quick little kiss. “Are you rejecting my proposal?”

She pretended to mull it over. “I guess not.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He bent his head again, and this time, when he kissed her, neither one of them came up for air for a very, very long time.