“I hope so.” Peyton’s voice broke, her palms growing clammy. “I’m trying not to let it mess with my head, but what if he comes back?”
“He won’t,” Kinsley said firmly. “Boone won’t let him get anywhere near us. There are cops stationed around the hospital.”
Peyton exhaled slowly trying to settle the racing of her heart rate. If this guy was a professional, he’d get in. “I can’t believe this is my life.”
“I know,” Kinsley said softly. “Do you want to call your parents to come here to be with you?”
Did she? Peyton’s lips parted and then closed. She wanted her mom there. God, did she ever, but she didn’t want her parents to worry more than they were already worried about her, and she didn’t want to put them in danger. “I don’t think my mom can handle this,” Peyton admitted. “They’ve been through so much already.”
Kinsley nodded, tucking her hands beneath her cheek and the pillow. “You’ve got us, you know that, right?”
“I do.” Peyton had never expected to find a second family in Stoney Creek, but she knew she did, not only in Boone, but in Kinsley and Remy too.
Silence fell between them, and Peyton’s mind began drifting back to her current reality. “I think I must be in shock or something. If today hadn’t happened, I still wouldn’t believe that this has anything to do with me.”
Kinsley agreed with a nod. “Honestly, I thought Boone was nuts when he suspected someone was trying to hurt you. I mean, if I hadn’t woken up with a needle mark in my neck and a terrible fucking headache, I would agree with you and say that he’s way off base here.”
“And just to think,” Peyton said dryly, “I came to Maine for peace, and instead, I’ve found a psycho.”
Kinsley snorted a laugh. “You know, when you say that aloud, it sounds completely unbelievable.”
“Just a little.” Peyton smiled back.
A long moment passed and then Kinsley shook her head slowly. “How are we seriously smiling with what we just went through?”
Sadly, Peyton knew that answer. She heaved a long sigh. “If I’ve learned anything from all the shit I’ve been through so far, it’s that you gotta laugh and smile in any moment you can. Because in the end, you’ve got one life. That’s it. When it’s over, it’s over. You don’t get second chances.”
Kinsley wiggled a little bit closer, knees touching Peyton. “Sometimes I think you’re really one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.”
Was that a compliment? “And other times?”
“Other times,” Kinsley said softly, “it makes me really sad that you know these things about life because of how much you’ve been through.”
Peyton had no idea how to answer that. For a while, she’d gone through denial, wishing that becoming a widow so young hadn’t happened to her. But then acceptance hit, and she simply dealt with what she’d been handed. “Back in Seattle,” Peyton began before drawing in a deep breath, “life was hard, you know. There was a time I had to force myself to get out of bed. Hell, even tell myself I had to keep breathing when all I wanted to do was crawl under the blanket and hide away. Now life isn’t hard like that.” And she realized, saying that aloud, how far she’d actually come. “Being here, with Boone, with you and Remy…it’s not bad anymore.”
Kinsley smiled. “Well, I’m glad to hear you say that, because if I were you, I’d be packing up my shit and getting the hell out of this crazy-ass town and hoping to hell the psycho didn’t follow me.”
And that’s what Kinsley didn’t understand. “I have nothing to go back to in Seattle,” she admitted, no matter how pathetic that sounded. It occurred to Peyton that should have been a depressing thought. She’d rather stay in a town where a killer was after her than return to the city where she was raised. “My life is here now.” A newfound strength rose in her chest. “And no one, certainly not some lunatic, is going to take away the life I have here.”
“Attagirl.” Kinsley drew in a long, deep breath, then exhaled it slowly. “Honestly, though, let’s hope Boone finds him dead somewhere.”
Peyton never wanted to wish anyone dead before, but she also knew she’d sleep better tonight knowing that the man who had targeted her was gone. “Do you remember anything of him?”
“I remember I was leaning against the counter looking at my cell phone and then I felt the prick in my neck. I turned around and saw the guy but as soon as I went for my gun, everything went blank. There’s just nothing there at all.”
“Well, thank God your cell phone was there. I used it to call 911.”
Kinsley snorted. “Too bad I hadn’t had my gun in my hand instead. Then we’d know the fucker was dead for sure.”
Peyton guessed growing up surrounded by generations of cops rubbed off on Kinsley. “I’ve never held a gun in my life, let alone shot one.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Kinsley’s mouth twitched. “You’re pretty lethal with a knife, it seems.”
“It’s because of the car accident,” Peyton said, then surprised herself by remembering a little more now. “For whatever reason, in that moment, I remembered that the man in the car accident might have died because of blood loss because he had metal stuck in his leg, so that’s where I sent the knife.”
“Thank you to your brain, then,” Kinsley said.
Peyton took Kinsley’s hand again, squeezing tight. “I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”
Emotion filled Kinsley’s face and voice. “Me too.”
Peyton never had a sister, but she imagined this was how sisters felt. Close, like nothing could stand between them. “I know it’s kind of weird, but will you stay with me tonight?”
Kinsley snorted a laugh. “Girl, you couldn’t kick me out of here tonight even if you tried.”
Peyton laughed too. “Okay, first, I gotta pee. Be right back.”
Kinsley pulled the blankets up around her. “I can’t promise I won’t be asleep when you get back.”
“That’s okay. Snooze away,” Peyton said, sliding out of bed and moving toward the door. She found two male police officers, and one female, setting their hard gazes on her. “I’m not leaving, I just need to use the ladies’ room,” she told them.
The tall cop nodded.
She moved toward the bathroom just next to her open hospital room door. She spotted a nurse walking by, sipping her coffee. Peyton remembered long nights like this when she worked the night shift. She felt so different now, like she couldn’t even imagine being a nurse. Her nursing career seemed like a life that belonged to someone else.
When she finished up in the bathroom, she moved to the sink and washed her hands, when a loud bang followed by a scream made her freeze. Pop, pop, pop. Someone was firing a gun, she was sure of it.
Then silence.
What came next was something worse than silence. Kinsley screamed.
Not thinking of anything but helping Kinsley, Peyton ran out, stunned by what she found.
Kinsley stood in front of the door, blood spatter on her pajamas. The three cops were on the ground in the hallway, unmoving. But as she took in who stood a few feet away in the hallway with a gun aimed in her direction, the floor dropped from under her.
Peyton could only stare at the man who had not long ago come into the shop and bought lingerie for his wife. The man approached, his strides seemingly in slow motion, icy blue eyes intent on her. Eyes she suddenly recognized immediately. These were the eyes of the man who also attacked her. And by the way he limped on the very leg she’d shoved the knife into, she knew now that this was the man hunting her.
And he had a gun aimed her way.
Haunted screams rang out in the corridor. Another gunshot echoed in the hallway, and Peyton glanced back, watching another cop behind her fall. He went quiet, blood pouring out from beneath him.
“Run.” Peyton shoved Kinsley. “Run,” she screamed.
Kinsley scrambled back, right as the man shot forward, his skin ashen. He shoved Kinsley back, sending her crashing
into the wall. Then he had Peyton by the neck. She gasped when her back hit the wall, his fingers squeezing her neck, pain slicing at the back of her head.
“You’ve got a good luck charm shoved up your ass, girl,” the man growled. He smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, and something wrong. She gasped for air, her feet dangling, her neck being squeezed tighter and tighter. “You just won’t fucking die.”
“And she won’t die today.”
The venom in Boone’s voice was both shocking and appreciated. The man released his fingers enough that her feet finally hit the floor again. She coughed, sucking in gulps of air as the man spun her around, the gun pressed to her temple.
Peyton’s gaze connected with Boone’s. Nothing showed on his expression, except for the one second that he looked right at her, but it was the only second she needed to not feel alone. Her new life flashed before her eyes, a life she didn’t want to lose. The life she had with Boone.
“Boone,” Kinsley gasped, crawling closer to him.
“Get out,” Boone said, cool and calm, standing a few feet away, his gun trained at the man behind Peyton.
Kinsley’s eyes came to Peyton, tears flooding her face.
“Go,” Peyton mouthed.
She seemed to fight against herself but then scrambled up and ran. Peyton fought to stand still, not wanting to spook the man into acting. She stared at Boone, and somehow, he was her lifeline. And while Boone wasn’t looking at her, she felt the air tighten between them, the awareness that he would do anything he could to protect her.
“You’ve got one chance of walking out of here,” Boone said firmly, his stance wide and ready to act. “Let her go. Then I’ll let you leave.”
“Is that so?” The man chuckled darkly, slowly stepping backward.
God, the coldness in his voice had Peyton shutting her eyes, feeling the chill of the metal pressing against her temple. She could feel the rage in his tight hold. His fingers were right there on her throat, promising to squeeze and end her life.
When she opened her eyes again, she felt the man tense behind her. Fear made time stop.
“Still lucky I see,” the man said in her ear, releasing his fingers, easing the pressure on her neck.
Down!
She heard that order not knowing where it came from. Maybe the look in Boone’s eyes. Maybe Adam watching over her. Maybe Boone had yelled it. It didn’t matter. She dropped in the same second she heard a gunshot echoing in the hallway. Peyton’s ears rang as she screamed, grabbing her head, wondering if the bullet hit.
There was no pain.
She stared into Boone’s terrified eyes, thinking he could only look that scared for her. But then she hit the floor and there was no warmth of blood. No tingling in her body declaring shock. Boone charged forward, and Peyton could sense that her attacker was no longer behind her, having charged through the door to the stairwell.
Boone slid to his knees and grabbed her arms. “All right?” he asked, frantic, staring deeply in her eyes.
So calm. So steady. God, she felt instantly better being held by him. “Yes, yes, I’m not shot. Are you okay?”
He nodded and cupped her face, looking both torn and devastated. “I can’t stay.”
“I know. Go.”
His eyes were tight, full of regret, and anger, and things she’d never seen in his eyes before. He was on his feet a second later and she watched him run toward the stairwell door. The moment he opened the door, gunshots rang out.
Logic failed to enter her mind. She couldn’t lose him. “Boone,” she screamed, jumping to her feet and charging toward the stairwell.
Chapter 16
The glow of the hospital lights faded as Boone kept his weapon aimed ahead of him. He’d dodged a couple shots and fired at the fucker and missed. He’d also heard Peyton scream his name, sheer terror, but he pressed on, desperate to protect her. In the next few seconds, the attacker had taken out the cop that had been stationed at the hospital’s back door and gotten himself under the cover of the forest that rested behind the hospital. Boone slowed his breathing, trying to listen to his surroundings. Off in the distance, cars drove on the highway, and he heard a few car doors opening and shutting, as well as an ambulance somewhere on the highway. But in this forest there was nothing, no sounds, not even birds making their appearance known.
Boone held his breath as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He listened closely, waiting for a sound to show him the way. A lesson he’d learned from his father while hunting. Something that he hoped this bastard had never been taught.
Patience, son, his father had once told him. Then don’t hesitant and take the shot. That had been the lesson. One Boone appreciated now. And he realized when he heard the crack of a stick behind him that the man Boone chased had given himself away by trying to hunt Boone.
Boone spun in the same second he heard the gunshot followed by the bullet hitting the tree over Boone’s shoulder. Boone only had one chance now, and he wouldn’t let this guy get away again.
Twice this fucker nearly killed Peyton.
Never again. No one hurt her. Not anymore.
Acting on instinct, Boone charged forward, only seeing the shadow of the man next to him. The perp dodged him once, but Boone stayed right on his heels as the man ran forward, weaving his way in between the trees. Another sharp right put Boone behind a tree, and he knew the perp was close. Again, Boone stopped. Listened. Waited. Until he heard the click of the trigger to his right. He trusted his instincts. He charged like he was taking a man down on the football field and hit a solid body.
The man grunted beneath him as they hit the forest floor, and Boone pinned him to the ground with his forearm on the guy’s neck. “Stay down,” he growled as the man fought, giving Boone a hard right hook, knocking him backward.
Right as the perp leaped up, Boone lurched forward again, tackling the fucker to the ground. He pinned one of the perp’s arms beneath his knee, and the other he held tight with his grip, pressing the man down into the forest floor.
“Stay the fuck down,” Boone repeated, breathless.
“Fuck you.” The guy slammed his head into Boone’s, sending Boone falling back on his ass. Then a piercing pain slammed against his skull as the man smacked his gun against Boone’s head.
Boone ended up on his knees and shook his head, trying desperately to clear the fog. His eyes were on his gun on the ground in front of him, his vision blurry. The forest floor made waves around him, but Boone concentrated on his gun, hoping to hell his vision would clear.
“It ain’t personal, man,” the man said, his voice coming closer. “She had to go, and you got in the way.”
Boone held his breath, going back to his childhood, remembering his father’s lessons. Patience. He heard the swishing of the man’s clothing as he raised his arm, obviously to aim his weapon at Boone. Then take the shot. Boone acted, twisting his body, and did the only thing he could do. He grabbed his gun and fired off a shot. The gunshot echoed across the night, the silence gone, the sound of death coming.
Boone landed on the dirt. Hard.
He groaned, rolling onto his shoulder and pushing himself up, his gun still aimed at the perp.
He kept his gaze trained there, with the side of his head throbbing and wetness trickling down his cheek, as footsteps thundered, coming closer toward the right. “Boone?” Rhett called.
“Here.” He took another step closer to the perp, who began gurgling blood.
“On your six,” Asher said, his voice coming from behind him.
“Peyton,” Boone said. “Where is she?” He’d heard her come for him.
“Safe,” Rhett said. “I stopped her from coming into the forest. She’s with your father.”
Boone exhaled. Safe. She was fucking safe. His chest finally began to lighten, his gut no longer clenched.
When Rhett and Asher sidled up to Boone, the gurgling stopped, and the man’s wide-open eyes stared up at the sky he’d never see again. Boone had never taken extrem
e measures before—in New York City as a beat cop or anywhere as a detective. He hadn’t needed to. He could always talk them down. Nothing about tonight made him feel good. Not any of it.
Rhett shone his flashlight in the man’s face. “Definitely not from around here,” Boone said.
“Never seen him either,” Rhett agreed.
Asher dropped to his knee, put on latex gloves, and then pressed his fingers against the man’s neck. He finally glanced up and shook his head, then reached into the man’s back pocket, taking out his wallet. “Maceo Vasiliev,” he said, examining the man’s identification.
Boone stared down at the man, then reached for his phone and dialed his father. “We’ve got him,” Boone said when Hank answered. “Contact the attorney general’s office.”
Hank paused. When he spoke again, his voice was tight. “You take the shot?”
“Yeah,” Boone replied, feeling slightly disconnected.
“All right, son,” Hank said with a slow exhale. “Kinsley and Peyton are shaken but fine—I’m with them now. Do what you’ve got to do. I’ll make the calls. Peyton won’t leave without seeing you.”
“I’ll be out in a few,” Boone said.
Heaviness filled Hank’s voice. “You all right?”
“Will be.” Boone ended the call after that, knowing he needed to get the coldness out of his veins before he saw Peyton. She needed him strong. And right now, a sense of disappointment flushed through him. He never wanted to take a life, even if he’d also do everything he could to protect her.
With a sigh, he tucked his phone back into his pocket, knowing any minute now the troops would swarm in and the investigation would get under way to prove the lethal force was justified. Boone touched the cut on his head from getting nailed in the head with a gun. Before the internal investigation took over Boone’s life, he said to Rhett and Asher, “How the hell did he get into the hospital?”
“A nurse found a doctor dead on the third floor,” Rhett explained. “That’s where I was coming from when I heard the shots and then saw Peyton running after you. It appears that he”—Rhett gestured at the dead man on the forest floor—“was already in the hospital and being stitched up before we arrived.”
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