Page 91 of The Agent
Natalie heard the thuds of running footsteps before Leland and the police chief burst through the door, both with guns drawn.
Tully lowered his pistol as though it weighed a ton. “Van Houten’s got a flesh wound in the arm. His hands are tied. I’m taking Natalie out of here.”
“I have to get your state—” the chief began.
Tully held up his hand. “Leland’s got it all on video. I need to take care of Nat. Then we’ll talk.”
The police chief and Leland both turned toward Natalie, who still couldn’t stop the tears running down her cheeks. “Right,” Chief Borland said. “I’ll handle things here.”
Tully holstered his gun and came around the desk to kneel in front of Natalie’s chair. “Are you hurt anywhere but your face?” he asked gently but urgently.
“No, I already threw up everything in my stomach,” she said, not mentioning that it felt like a mule had kicked her in the abdomen.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment and whispered, “Thank God!” Then he stood and scooped her up out of the chair, holding her against his warm, solid chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against the softness of his shirt, breathing in the strength and decency that was so distinctively his.
She felt him turn sideways to get through the door and then he was striding along somewhere, far enough away that the voices faded behind them.
“Oh, God, Nat! I’m so sorry,” he said over her head, his voice breaking on the last word. “It’s my fault that you had to go through this.”
That made her lift her gaze, but she couldn’t see enough of his face to understand his emotions. “What are you talking about? It’s Dobs Van Houten’s fault that I had to go through this.”
“If I hadn’t been sulk—” He cut off the rest. “I didn’t do my job.”
He pivoted sideways again and walked into a room lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. It seemed to be a library with books lining the walls all the way to the high ceiling. Tully strode to an overstuffed sofa and laid her gently on it. “Let me get the lights,” he said.
He flicked on a switch, bringing to life a huge brass chandelier that threw a golden glow over the spines of the books, picking up glints of gilt lettering on the leather. But Natalie only wanted to watch Tully as he strode toward her across the jewel-toned Persian rug, his face set in an anguished mask of guilt. Stripping out of his black bulletproof vest, he tossed it into a nearby chair.
She sat up and curled her legs under her as he eased onto the couch beside her. He touched her cheek with fingertips as light as butterfly wings. “Did Dobs do this?”
Natalie had almost forgotten the slap that Dobs had administered, the throbbing in her cheek minor compared to everything else that had happened. “That’s how he woke me up. Does it look bad?”
Tully shook his head. “It’s just red and swollen but I know what that kind of injury means. He hit you. Hard.”
She didn’t tell him about the cut inside her mouth. That would only add to his guilt. “At least I got to hit him back with the rock. Thank you for shooting him. I hope he’s in a lot of pain.”
Tully made a sound like a strangled groan. “When I saw him with his filthy hands around your neck, I nearly aimed for his head. I might have done it except I didn’t want you to have to see the mess it would make.”
“He’ll suffer more in prison,” Natalie said, wishing Tully would put his arms around her. “Hewillgo to prison, won’t he?”
“Oh yeah. We’ve got a boatload of witnesses as well as video.” Conviction rang in his voice.
“Oh, God, is Regina all right?” Natalie felt terrible that she hadn’t asked about her first.
“She’s fine. I took out her two guards after they left the office and stashed her in the kitchen. Dobs wasn’t going to hurt her since she’s carrying his child. He transferred all his hatred to you.” Tully was practically vibrating with restrained rage.
“Could—could you put your arms around me, please?” Natalie flat-out begged as Dobs’s contorted face rose up in her mind’s eye.
He tilted his head to gaze at the floor as though debating something. Then he shifted on the sofa so their thighs touched and put one arm around her shoulders in a gesture so tentative she couldn’t believe it was Tully.
The careful touch was better than nothing, so she snuggled up against his side, tucking her head against his neck.
“Oh, hell!” he muttered and wrapped both arms around her to pull her onto his lap while she felt his lips against her hair. “I was terrified of what might happen to you, Nat. I could barely think through my strategy because fear kept distracting me. I’ve never had that problem before.”
It felt so good to be enclosed in the steely circle of his arms, protected from the world. “I knew you’d come.”
That’s how she’d had the courage to provoke Dobs, to look into his mad eyes and keep defying him.
“I let you down.”
