Captive Angel Ch. 14 - End

Brandon stopped dead in the door, unable to move, his eyes roaming over the lush curves so readily laid out to his eyes. "Shanna?" he finally was able to ask, his voice little more than a husky rasp.

"Brandon? Oh my God. Brandon, I thought it was Clyde coming back." She ran across the room, a lithe dark haired sprite, and threw herself into his arms. "I knew you were all right. I knew you would find me."

Brandon's arms came up automatically, his hands lying flat against the smooth curve of her back. He could feel her softness and knew she was naked under the dress she had on. Just that thought sent the blood rushing to his groin, his cock hardening to the point of painfulness. "Are you okay?" he asked her lamely, closing his eyes against the sudden fierce hunger he had to taste her lips, all the while trying to hide the proof of his need from her.

Shanna inhaled greedily of his scent. He was safety, he was security. He meant that she was free. "Yes," she whispered, burying her nose in his throat. He also smelled better than any man had a right to.

He managed to stop the groan she inspired just by the feel of her soft lips against his skin, but just barely. He couldn't stop his hands though, that roamed with such obvious desire and greed over the curve of her back, stopping at the roundness of her ass. "They didn't..." he couldn't finish his question, the thought of those huge men and this tiny, fragile scrap of a woman was more than he could stomach.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Not really."

He pulled his head back, his hands sliding up to capture the slender curve of her upper arms. "What do you mean, not really?"

Shanna closed her eyes, feeling the same shame she'd felt that day when Floyd had stuck his fingers inside of her. She dropped her head, letting her forehead rest against his chest, unable to speak about what had been done to her. It was nothing she hadn't gone through before, just worse because she'd thought those days over when she'd run from Jackson.

"Shanna?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, grabbing a hold of the edge of his Kevlar vest with her hands. It was cold and hard against her fingers, bringing her back to the reality of where she was. "Please, Brandon. It's over, can't we just forget it?"

His hand was gentle as he reached down, lifting her chin with one strong finger. "Can you?" he asked her softly. "I know of your nightmares, Shanna. I've heard you cry and seen your face in the mornings when you thought I wouldn't know that you spent the night sobbing into your pillow. It's not good to box it inside. I've seen cops who've ended up at the wrong end of their own weapons because they've never been able to let it out." He stroked his fingers down the soft curve of her cheek. "If you can't talk to me, then to someone when we get back, okay?"

She nodded, willing to agree to it now if he'd let the subject drop. It was almost a relief when she felt his arms wrap around her again, pulling her close. "Did you find Angel?" she mumbled into his neck.

"Oh shit." He dropped his arms, stepping back. How could he have forgotten? He knew how, all he had to do was look at her and everything else became less important. "She's been shot, Hunter's with her, on the way to the hospital."

"I told her he was okay," she said. "How bad is she?"

"It's bad."

"I...I want to go, but..." she glanced down at the thin shift, almost gasping as she realized how well he could see through it. Her hands came up, her arms wrapping across her breasts, hiding the sweet tips of her nipples from his eyes. "God, I'm sorry," she said, her face flaming.

"Don't be," Brandon almost purred, a roguish grin on his handsome face. "I'm definitely not." He chuckled when she grew even redder.

Her eyes narrowed and, after a quick struggle with her modesty, she dropped her arms, smiling smugly when she heard his soft groan. Just the sound of that undeniable proof that he found her attractive made her nipples harden even more and sent a shocking pleasure to her loins, a pleasure she'd never felt before. Suddenly, she wanted back in his arms, this time without the Kevlar or the clothing that kept her from pressing her naked skin against his. It shocked her, this desire, this need, so unlike anything she'd known before.

"I...I'll see if I can find something to wear," she stuttered softly, turning and giving him a flashing glimpse of sexy soft thighs and the curve of the bottom of her butt. He closed his eyes, his hands fisted so tightly he thought he'd never get them unclenched. When he opened his eyes, she was bent over in front of the bottom drawer of the dresser, hurriedly dragging out a pair of jeans. She stood, glancing back at him, not realizing that she'd just given him a view that he would never forget, and one that he would kill to see again.

She's Hunter's sister, he tried to tell himself, knowing that a cold shower just wasn't going to cut it this time. You don't mess with someone else's sister.

But his body just didn't seem to be listening.

"I'll be right out," she said softly, indicating a door.

Brandon nodded, turning his head as he heard a knock at the door to the hall.

"What?" he barked out, his frustration rampant in his own voice.

"Premises secured, sir. The locals want to bring in their crime scene units." One of his men stood there, his Kevlar vest spouting the letters "FBI" in bright white against the black background.

"Yeah, have them bring in their teams, but I want Davis to stay and oversee their work and update me on anything that's found. Good job, we'll let the locals handle the paper work, but Sebastian Antonelli is mine."

* * * *

The hospital was nearly empty when they got there, Angel taken right through into a curtained-off area. Hunter was delegated to the waiting room.

When Brandon and Shanna arrived, he was pacing the floor, staring at the blood that covered his hands.

"How is she?" Shanna asked, going to her brother and hugging him hard.

"I don't know. They won't tell me anything." He looked up at his friend. "Do you have any pull..." he trailed off.

"I'll go see what I can do," Brandon said. "Why don't you clean up some, Hunt? You're scaring the natives." He nodded towards a couple who sat in one corner of the small room, their eyes fixed on Hunter.

"I'll stay here, you go find a men's room," Shanna said, touching her brother on his cheek. "She'll be all right, Aaron. I've got a hunch."

Hunter managed a smile. Shanna's hunches had always been a source of teasing between him, Dillon and her. She had an uncanny way of knowing when something was going to happen, as long as that something didn't include her.

"Really?" he asked her softly, bending his head and dropping a small kiss on her hair. "You wouldn't lie to your big brother, would you?"

"Never," she said, a smile tipping the corners of her mouth. "You're getting so old; I wouldn't want to cause you to have a heart attack or something."

His eyes narrowed and he let loose with a small growl that made her laugh.

"Thanks, Shan, I really needed to hear that." He turned and left the waiting room, making his way somewhere he could clean up.

Shanna sat down in one of the seats, nervously picking up a magazine and flipping through it before setting it back down again. She couldn't sit still. Not since Brandon had come bursting into her room had she felt settled. Even when she'd come out of the bathroom in jeans and a tee shirt that was a couple sizes too big, her hair up in a long pony tail that fell down to her waist, he'd watched her. There was a look in his eyes, a heat that sent her pulses racing.

He had put his arm around her shoulder, leading her out of the room, stopping and grabbing a jacket from someone, the initials FBI emblazoned across the breast and the back. Wrapping it around her, he'd steered her out of the house and into the car, hiding her from the view of the press who was having a field day trying to figure out what was going on.

He'd gotten directions to the hospital and managed to find it without getting them lost. But he kept glancing at her until finally she'd snapped. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Wh...No, why?"

"Well, you keep staring at me; I figured I must have something wrong."

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was."

She'd known Brandon for years, since the first time Aaron had brought him home when he was barely twenty.

They'd never gotten along. There just seemed to be something about him that made her feel like she was chewing on tinfoil. Brandon had always seemed to feel the same, avoiding being alone with her if he could, because when that happened, sparks flew.

But now, he was being so...nice.

She looked up to see him walking back in the waiting room. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do now?"

"Nothing, and it's making me nervous. You're being too nice to me."

"Shanna...Jesus, I try to be nice and you act like there's some big conspiracy going on." He threw up his hands, slumping down in a chair next to hers.

"Considering what you just went through, I'd have to be a real jerk to treat you any other way, wouldn't I? Would you rather I'd left you with Sebastian?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She leaned against the arm of her chair, studying his face.

Brandon felt her eyes on him and felt that same damn, telltale blush seeping into his cheeks. "Stop staring at me, damn it."

"See, how do you like it?"

"Like what?"

"Being stared at," she grouched.

"I wasn't staring at you," he reached out to pick up a magazine, trying to ignore her but she wouldn't be ignored.

"Yes you were, in the car, at the house, you were all eyes."

"Well, you were the one standing there in nothing but that skimpy nightgown. What's a guy supposed to do?"

"Jesus, can't you two be in the same room for ten minutes without a keeper?" Hunter walked back into the waiting room, glaring at the two of them. "And you thought I was chasing them out," he added when the older couple got up and walked out of the room.

"She started it," Brandon said, laughing.

"Did not," Shanna said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Hunter shook his head. "What'd you find out, Bran?"

"Oh shit, sorry, Hunter. She's holding her own; they're getting ready to take her into surgery soon. The bullet was a through and through, but it nicked her spleen and she has some internal bleeding that they have to stop."

Brandon got up and put his hand on Hunter's arm. "The nurse is going to come in and let you see her for a minute before they take her upstairs."

Hunter sank into the chair, his body going lax with relief. "She'll be okay?"

"They're giving her blood and there's still some danger with the surgery, Hunt. They wouldn't tell me anymore."

A tall, slender blonde in pale blue scrubs came to the door of the waiting room. "Aaron Hunter?" she called softly.

Hunter got up. "Yeah," he said. "Is she okay?"

"She's awake now. We're getting ready to take her up to surgery if you want to see her. But only you and only for a minute," she said, holding up a warning hand to the other two. "She's lost a lot of blood."

Hunter followed her out of the room, his heart in his throat. He managed to find a smile, plastering it on his face as he walked into the room she was in.

"Baby?" he whispered quietly, stepping up next to the side of the bed that wasn't covered with tubes and machines. He took her small hand in his, noting the paleness of her skin, the fragility of her in that bed.

"H...Hunter," she sighed, her eyes fluttering open. "I'm so tired."

"It's the drugs, baby. You're going to be okay," he said, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or her. "We've got a date with destiny, baby. You wouldn't want to miss that."

"D...date?" she whispered, licking her dry lips.

"To get married." He brushed his knuckles over her skin, hating how cold it felt. "Remember? You said, the day after we get our lives back, we'd find a Justice of the Peace."

A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye and he brushed it away. "I'm so tired," she said again, closing her eyes and shutting out the sight of his face.

"That's okay, baby. You sleep," he whispered, stroking her hair, gently kissing her cheek. "We have our entire lives to talk."

She opened her eyes, lifting the hand that was covered in tape and tubes. "Hunter, w...would you..." she tried to push his ring off her finger.

"For safe keeping," he said, pulling off the ring slowly, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach as he did.

He sat quietly with her until the same nurse came in to shoo him out, showing the three of them where they could stay while she was in surgery.

The next three and a half hours were the longest he'd ever spent in his life.

By the time the doctor showed up at the door, Hunter was ready to climb the walls.

"Mr. Hunter?" he asked from the doorway.

"Yes," Hunter said, popping up from the chair he'd been in.

"She's holding her own. The surgery went really well, all things considering." He patted Hunter on the back. "She's in recovery now. I want her to spend a few hours in there, just to monitor her and the baby. We're lucky she didn't lose it, but she was determined to hold on to her child." He smiled at Hunter, never noticing the way his face paled. "You can see her in a couple of hours, when she's out of recovery."

"Thank you, doctor," Brandon said, his hand going to Hunter's shoulder.

He nodded, turning and going back down he long hall he'd come from, leaving a shocked Hunter to grope for a chair.

"Baby?" he whispered.

Chapter Sixteen

Angel opened her eyes, hearing a voice calling her name. There was a feeling of heaviness, as if her dreams were trying to pull her back down. She moaned, feeling a strange pain in her stomach.

"Come on baby, you've got to wake up. Let me see those pretty green eyes."

She felt his lips touching her hand and tightened her fingers around his. Her eyes fluttered and opened, seeing him sitting in the chair next to her. "H...Hunter?" she rasped, her throat sore.

"Ah, there she is." He smiled down at her, though she could see the pain in his eyes. "I thought I'd lost you."

She swallowed painfully. "M...me too," she whispered. "Am I... dead?"

Hunter reached over and picked up the glass of ice water the nurse had just left there. "Here," he said, carefully helping her lift her head to get a small sip of the drink. "No, you're not dead, baby, though you gave me the scare of my life. Don't ever do that again, okay?" he joked.

Nothing had ever tasted better than that water. It was cold and wet and soothed her sore throat. "More," she whispered.

"Just a little, the doctor doesn't want you to have too much too quick, baby."

"W...What happened?"

"You don't remember?" He set the glass back down, turning and pushing a stray lock of her hair off of her cheek.

"Y...you were shot." She looked up, her eyes going wide as she remembered the shots, the pain she'd felt as she'd thought him dead. "H...how...?"

"I'll tell you if you lie still," he said, waiting until she nodded. "It was Brandon. After we went into the cave, he went back to our campsite. He told me that even looking at the crack in the side of the hill was making him sick. When he got back there, he started unpacking stuff to set up camp and he found the tracking device they'd put on him. It slipped out of his jacket as he was trying to start a fire."

"Tracking? They were tracking us?"

"No, not us, just Brandon. I suppose they figured when they took Shanna, he'd come running to find me."

"They figured right," she said. She yawned, moaning when the movement seemed to make something in her stomach pull and hurt.

"Are you okay? Do I need to call the nurse?" He started to get up and she tightened the grip she had on his hand.

"No. Please, keep going," she urged sleepily. "I...I need to know."

"Well, he guessed that if they knew where we were, we'd probably be seeing them. He called in some of the local feds and they set up a little surprise for Sebastian's minions. He wanted to warn us, but we'd already gone down into the cave. They wanted to get Sebastian, too, but he outmaneuvered them by taking off with you."

"The shots? I heard two shots?" Her eyes slipped closed.

"Sleep, baby, we can talk about this and more when you wake up. You really need to rest. I need you better so I can marry you." His thumb brushed over the back of her hand, softly caressing her skin.

"No! Don't stop. Tell me," she muttered. "Talk to me, please?"

"Okay, honey." He kept his voice soft, his long fingers stroking through her hair. "Brandon wanted Sebastian to think we were dead. Two shots each, it's his trademark kill pattern. The first shot always goes into the heart, the second into the head. I didn't know what he was doing until suddenly I was surrounded by guys wearing FBI jackets. Brandon should be getting a raise out of this one."

"I'm glad," she whispered.

"I love you, baby," he said, leaning close to her to let his lips caress her cheek. "Now sleep, I'm not going anywhere."

Her eyes fluttered closed again, and she held tightly to his hand. His eyes roamed over her face, the pallor of her skin and the dark shadows below her eyes reminders of how close he had come to losing her. "I'm right here, baby," he whispered again. "I won't leave you, ever."

* * * *

The second time her eyes opened, she heard his breathing next to her. He was asleep in the chair, his head on the mattress next to her hand, his fingers still entwined with hers. He looked so tired, his hair was wild as if he'd been running his hands through it, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

His jaw was bristled with stubble, his face softer in sleep.

All in all, he'd never looked so good to her, or so unattainable. How could she marry him now, knowing that her father was responsible for the death of his parents, for causing him all the physical pain, for tearing him out of his own life? How could she tell him the truth? She felt the tears slide down her cheeks and she tried to brush them away but he held tightly to her hand.

Her other hand was on her stomach and she could feel a bandage there.

Carefully, she felt lower, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized the slight curve she'd noticed the other day was still there.

"The baby's fine, Angel." Hunter's tone was stiff, his eyes, while still gentle had hardened just the tiniest bit. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have let me go down into that cave with you if I had?"

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. "You know damn well I wouldn't have.

There'd have been another way, Angel. I could have called Dillon."

"It would have taken too much time," she rasped, holding one shaking hand out for her water.

Hunter held the cup for her, letting her sip from it. He hated admitting she was right, hated even more that she'd hid the fact she was pregnant from him. "If something had happened to you or the baby, God, Angel, I couldn't have forgiven myself."

"But nothing did happen." She yawned her hands holding on to her stomach as she did. "We're both fine."

Hunter leaned over, his lips finding hers. "I don't think you know how much you mean to me, love. If you had died..."

"I didn't," she said quickly, her hand coming up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble rough against her palm.

The same blonde nurse came in, though today she wore pale green scrubs. She carried bandages and other assorted medical necessities in her hands. "Dr. Carter, you're awake. And looking much better than you did last night."

"I wish I could say I felt better."

She chuckled. "Doctors always make the worst patients," she said in a loud whisper to Hunter. "You'll feel better when we get you cleaned up and change your bandages. Then we can try sitting up for a little while."