Derek lurched to his feet.
Philip lay supine at his feet.
Derek’s gaze sought hers.
Even in the darkness she saw the insanity in the hollow depths of his eyes. “Run, Derek. There’s still time for you to escape,” she said in a strangled voice.
He leveled the gun at her chest. “I’m not going to die alone. I’m taking you with me, Michelle.”
Philip’s legs lashed out, slamming into Derek, driving him backward. He stumbled, lost his balance when his foot found only air. His mouth opened in a silent scream. His eyes widened. Arms flailing wildly, he went over the ledge.
Sickened, Michelle turned away.
In an instant Betancourt was beside her, solid and strong, pulling her into his arms. “It’s over, sweetheart. It’s over.”
A sob wrenched out of her. “Oh, Philip. Oh, God, I thought you were…” She couldn’t say the words. “You’ve been shot.”
“Shh. I’m okay. I’m here.”
She couldn’t stop crying, didn’t care about the tears. All she cared about was that the man she loved was holding her and nothing had ever felt so right in her life. “He murdered Armon.”
“I know. I’m sorry, honey.”
Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist. “He did it for the will. Because of the firm. He was going to kill us both.”
“Everything’s going to be okay. Just let me hold you for a minute, okay?” He reached up to stroke the back of her head, and winced.
A low moan followed, and she felt him wobble. Gently, she extracted herself from his arms. Shock vibrated through her when she saw the blood on the front of his trench coat. “Oh, my God. You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch.”
“Scratches don’t bleed like that.”
“It always sounds good when they say that in the movies.”
Michelle pulled away just enough to get a look at his face. Despite the grin, he was sheet white. A new kind of fear quivered in her belly. “Give me your phone so I can call an ambulance.”
Another moan escaped him as he fished his cellular from his coat pocket. “Cory’s on his way,” he said.
Quickly, she dialed 911 and requested an ambulance.
“I think I’d better sit down awhile,” he whispered.
Gently, she eased him down on the wet concrete. Working her jacket from her shoulders, she covered him with it. “Don’t pass out on me, Betancourt.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His gaze met hers. “I was desperate to find you, Michelle. I’m glad you’re okay. I would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”
Her heart quivered at the sight of those stormy gray eyes. She’d never forget the way he was looking at her. Oh, how she’d wanted him to love her…. “Shut up, Betancourt. You’re obviously delirious with pain.”
“My mind is more clear at this moment than it’s ever been in my life.” His voice was rough. He touched her cheek, but his fingertips were cold. “I’ve been trying to find you—”
“Don’t waste your strength trying to woo me, Betancourt.”
The rooftop door burst open and Cory Sanderson rushed out with his service revolver drawn. “Betancourt!” Holstering his gun, he rushed over and fell to his knees beside Philip. “How bad is he?” he demanded.
“Shoulder wound,” Michelle said. “He’s lost some blood.”
She started to rise, but Betancourt stopped her. “Don’t go. Please. Stay with me.”
Cory sent her a silent message with his eyes, telling her to stay.
Michelle was still at Betancourt’s side when the paramedics lifted him onto the gurney and transported him to Charity Hospital.
Chapter 15
Using his good arm, Philip knocked on the door, wondering if he should have left the flowers in the car. He wasn’t sure what made him angrier, the incessant pain in his shoulder or the fact that Michelle hadn’t come to the hospital in the three days it had taken him to recover from his gunshot wound and surgery. What the hell was he doing, bringing flowers to a woman who hadn’t even bothered to call?
But Cory had told him that Michelle was there the first night. All night, in fact. Cory had also told him that when she’d finally left, she’d told him she wouldn’t be back.
Philip figured he was an intelligent enough man to figure out why.
She didn’t have the slightest idea that he was head over heels in love with her. Hell, he still couldn’t quite believe it.
The door opened. Philip’s chest compressed when he found himself looking into the gentle brown eyes he’d dreamed of too many times to count in the last three days. Her hair was pulled into an unruly ponytail and strands of damp hair clung to her face. A Tulane sweatshirt and cutoff denim shorts swept over curves he knew intimately now, but would never get enough of.
“You’re out of the hospital.”
It wasn’t the response he’d hoped for, but it was a start. At least she hadn’t slammed the door in his face. Definitely a step in the right direction.
“They let me out for good behavior.” Not exactly sure of the protocol when a man brought a woman flowers, Philip shoved them forward. “These are for you. Uh…a house-warming gift.”
She blinked at the mass of colorful blooms, then accepted the small vase. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“I hope you like them.”
“I love wildflowers.”
An awkward silence descended. Not a good sign that she hadn’t invited him inside. Damn.
She didn’t meet his gaze. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Broken clavicle. Should be like new in about eight weeks.” He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t come to see him in the hospital, but the words wouldn’t come. He gazed through the open door at the boxes littering the small living room. “I see you’re just about moved in. This neighborhood’s a little better. I won’t worry about you so much.”
She fidgeted with the flowers. “How did you find me?”
“Cory plugged you into the computer for me.” Philip’s chest felt tight. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Why couldn’t she meet his gaze? Why hadn’t she invited him in? “Can I come in?”
Stepping aside, she motioned him into the living room. “The place is a mess. I’ve been unpacking most of the day. I need to paint. The landlord’s going to give me a break on rent if I spruce up the place for him.”
Philip took in the details of the room, realizing the tiny apartment with its dusty lace curtains and worn cypress floors seemed more like a home than his empty house, and she wasn’t even moved in yet. Michelle had a way of filling a place, of turning an empty shell into a home. Not with furniture or things, he realized, but with her presence. Her essence.
“I understand you got your memory back.” He sat on the sofa.
Placing the vase of flowers on the coffee table, she took the wing chair across from him. “Yeah. Dr. Witt took me through another hypnosis session. I remembered everything about that night.” She shivered, then looked down at her hands.
Philip saw that she was trembling, and wanted to go to her. Hold her. Tell her everything that was bursting to get out. “Are you all right?”
Her smile came too quickly. “I’m good. Really. I just landed a job with another firm. I resumed classes at Tulane.” Her gaze met his. “What about you?”
I’m dying inside because I miss you. “Couldn’t be better.”
“When do you go back to work?”
After what had happened with Hardin Montgomery, Philip had given that very question a lot of thought. “I’ve decided not to go back. I thought it might be more interesting to go into the private sector. Open my own private investigation firm.”
She smiled a thousand-watt smile. “You mean like Magnum, P.I.?”
The smile warmed him from the inside out. “Without the Ferrari.”
Tense silence hung between them. When Philip could no longer stand it, he asked the question he hadn’t been abl
e to get out of his head since he’d come to after surgery. “Why didn’t you come see me in the hospital, Michelle?”
Her shoulders went rigid. “I think you know the answer to that. I’m trying to be smart about this, Betancourt. Things are too impossible between us. They always have been.”
“I don’t know what’s so impossible about two people who love each other.”
Her jaw dropped, a small sound escaping her.
He almost smiled, but realized the moment wasn’t right. Not yet.
“Those must be some painkillers they’ve got you on, Betancourt. Are you sure you should be driving?”
Rising from the sofa, he crossed to her and knelt before her. When she didn’t look at him, he placed his fingers under her chin. A tremor went through her when he forced her gaze to his. “I love you, Michelle. I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid eyes on you. I love everything about you, inside and out, only I was too pigheaded to realize it. That’s pretty cut-and-dried. Nothing complicated about it.”
Michelle had known he would come to her eventually. Only she hadn’t expected it to turn out like this. Just like Betancourt to throw a monkey wrench into the mix. She’d spent the last three days trying to exorcise this man from her heart, and here he was making her fall in love with him all over again.
“When I was sitting in that jail cell and you didn’t come, I realized whatever was happening between us wasn’t going to work.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she squared her shoulders and met his gaze. “It’s okay. If I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that things don’t always work out the way we want them to.”
Something dark flashed in the gray depths of his gaze. “What’s happening between us is called love, Michelle. It’s not perfect. I’m sure as hell not perfect. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You tried to tell me, Betancourt. You don’t do relationships. You’re married to your job….” Her voice trailed off when it dawned on her that he’d given up the career he’d devoted his life to.
“That was before I realized I’m crazy in love with you.”
For an insane instant, she believed him. Her world tilted, shifted, began a slow, rolling tumble down a steep hill. Her heart beat so fast she felt as if it might pound its way right out of her chest. “Don’t do this to me now.”
“Don’t what? Tell you how I feel? That I haven’t been able to get you off my mind since the first time I saw you? That I can’t sleep nights because I want you beside me and you’re not there?”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“You know me better than that,” he growled.
“I’ve got an arrest record, Betancourt. I’ve got an ex-con for a brother. I’m from the wrong side of the tracks in a very big way. I don’t think I’m the kind of woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
Grimacing, he raked an unsteady hand through his hair. “I don’t give a damn about any of it, Michelle. None of it matters. It never did. I’m not going to walk away from this. I’m not going to walk away from you. I love you. God, I love you. All of you. Past. Present. And future. If anybody can make this work, we can.”
Tears sprang into her eyes, and she blinked furiously. Not wanting him to see her cry, she rose. Couldn’t he see that he was tearing her heart out by prolonging this?
Betancourt rose in turn, snagging her hand with his good arm. “I love you because of who you are, Michelle. I don’t care about where you came from. What you’ve been through has made you exactly the kind of woman I want to spend my life with. Dammit, I’m not Frank Blanchard.”
The words hit her with such force that she winced. “I know that.”
“Look at me.”
Choking back the tears, Michelle raised her chin, then faced him. “You’re making this difficult.”
“I’m sorry it hurts, but you’ve got to hear this. I won’t let you go. I won’t walk away without a fight.” He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I knew I couldn’t live without you the day I let you walk away, the day I let you go into that cell. Part of me died that day. But at the same time, something else was born. Something powerful and good, and by God, I’m not going to let it slip away.
“It took almost losing you for me to realize how blind I’ve been. My heart stopped when I saw Derek try to push you from that building. That’s when I knew I couldn’t live the rest of my life without you.” He paused, his gaze intense, jaws working. “I love you, and I think you know me well enough to know I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never lie to you. I’ll never betray your trust. Maybe you don’t want to hear this right now. Maybe you’re not ready…”
Michelle didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. Her resolve to protect her heart collapsed. Her defenses crumpled like dry earth. Her love for him burst free of its shackles. Suddenly she needed to feel his arms around her. Feel his heart beating against hers. With a sob, she reached out to him. “I’ve been trying to convince myself for three days that I’m not in love with you.”
“Hell of a way to spend your time.” His good arm wrapped around her. Pulling her against him, he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “You didn’t succeed, did you?”
“No.” Despite the tears, she smiled. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?”
“I thought that was what you loved about me,” he said.
Happiness bubbled up inside her, making her feel giddy. “I love you, Betancourt. I love you so much I ache with it.”
“But it’s a good ache, right?”
“Best ache I ever had.”
“I ache, too, Michelle. I ache for you day and night. I never want that to change. Maybe we should make it permanent.”
Her heart stopped for two full beats, long enough for the blood to leave her head. “Betancourt, you’re just full of surprises today. First flowers, then a proposal. What’s a girl to do?”
Easing her to arm’s length, he gazed steadily at her. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“That’s a definite yes.”
“You’re smiling.”
“So are you. I love it when you smile.”
“Me, too.” Again he brushed tears from her cheeks. “You know, Michelle, I think I’ve got just the cure for that peculiar ache that’s been ailing you.”
She laughed, marveling at the sheer joy loving this man brought her. “I’ll just bet you do.”
Grinning, he kissed her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “Interested?”
“Think you can manage with that cast, Betancourt?”
“Might be fun trying.” Another kiss landed on her temple. “I don’t think the cast will be a problem. We’re pretty creative.”
Happiness burst through her, stunning her with the promise of a future as breathtaking and brilliant as a bayou sunrise.
“How long does it take to get married?” he whispered.
“Well, I’d have to get dressed, get my sneakers on, brush my hair…. About an hour.” Smiling, she nipped his earlobe.
“I’m not sure I can wait that long.” His voice was low and dangerous.
“A judge or a priest?” she asked.
“Whoever has an open schedule.” Cupping her face in his hands, he pulled away, his stormy gaze boring into her. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how a man loves a woman.”
“You’ve got my undivided attention.”
“And kids,” he murmured. “I’ve always wanted kids. Three of them. Two boys and a girl.”
“Two girls and a boy, and you’ve got a deal.”
He grinned and nipped her bottom lip. “We can get mar ried again in June. I mean, do it right. I know of this great little church in bayou country—”
“I’ll be there, Betancourt.”
“Promise me.” He kissed her then, deeply, possessively. “Promise me, my love.”
“I promise,” Michelle said, and went down for the count.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-3308-9
REMEMBER THE NIGHT
Copyrigh
t © 2000 by Linda Castillo
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Table of Contents
Letter to Reader
Dedication
About the Author
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Copyright
Linda Castillo, Remember the Night (Men in Blue)
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