Chapter Twenty-Two
Gwen had given the man to the count of three. No law enforcement agency in this country could accuse her of killing an intruder without giving him a chance to walk away before she fired her weapon. Castle doctrine stated that she wasn’t required to retreat inside her own home, and he certainly qualified as an imminent threat to her life. Technically, she wouldn’t have pulled the trigger had the man not shifted in her direction.
But he had moved.
And she discharged her weapon.
There was no doubt that she hit her target, but it had most likely been a graze because of the way he’d shifted the bulk of his upper body at the last second. Also, the fact that he slammed into her as if he was a pro-bowl defensive back and she was the opposing team’s quarterback hadn’t quite been fully expected.
Her head had immediately snapped back and hit the tiled floor of the kitchen. All the oxygen had been forced out of her lungs, making it all but impossible for her to draw in any air. The blood that had been pumping through her veins with breakneck speed could now be heard rushing in her ears, although it was rather faint against the thunderous ringing left behind by the discharge of her weapon.
The man recovered faster than she could, thereby giving him the upper hand. She still had the wherewithal to try and make out his features, but he’d moved to the right of her. She could only make out his shoulders, and he wasn’t as thick as she’d originally surmised.
What was he doing?
It took her a moment to figure out that he was trying to locate her firearm. The force of the fall had knocked it out of her hand when she’d tried to protect herself from his falling weight.
No matter the cost, she had to reach her Beretta before he got the chance.
She struggled to draw air back into her lungs. The horrid wheezing sound wasn’t something she’d soon forget. She tried her best to roll over, maybe try and gain some advantage.
The man was far too heavy on top of her torso.
Gwen might not be able to breathe, but she had use of her legs. Granted, she might not have had the most strength, but it was enough to get the job done. She brought her knee up with what little adrenaline she had left, successfully hitting her target square in his junk. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been enough to do much damage.
As if by some miracle, the muscles in her throat suddenly opened and allowed for airflow. She dragged in as much oxygen as she could. It was more than evident that he hadn’t found her firearm, and she needed to take advantage of this small window of opportunity.
Relying on her training, she pushed all thought out of her mind and used her body as a weapon. She wrapped one leg around his, vying for the advantage. It didn’t take her long. This man had no military training. None. She could easily subdue him and…
The edge of the knife cut through her skin as if it were butter.
Gwen didn’t have to question what was happening, but the ability to breathe again had given her back another surge of adrenaline. Her body understood what was taking place, but her pain receptors weren’t receiving the proper signals. The knife had cut alongside her rib cage with a slashing motion, but the angle in which she’d turned her body had prevented him from stabbing her outright.
Agent Thorne had mentioned that the Blyth Lake Killer didn’t use weapons. He strangled his victims. He had an MO that he followed closely, but this certainly wasn’t it.
Had the Blyth Lake Killer evolved or was this someone else entirely?
Gwen abruptly released her hold on him and used her arms and legs to shove his upper body up and over. He hadn’t been expecting the reversal, so it gave her time to roll over and scramble to her hands and feet.
He had a knife. That was a fact that she couldn’t undo, but she could even out the playing field. The block of knives she had for the kitchen were near the stove. Only a step away. All she had to do was fake one direction and move the short distance to arm herself, and she’d already successfully managed to get to her feet.
Unfortunately, the large hand that wrapped itself around her ankle prevented her from reaching her target. She did the only thing she could. She grabbed the candle sitting in the middle of the island and hurled it down toward the man’s body.
The fucker could burn.
He immediately released her, giving her the seconds needed to make it to the stove. She chose the first knife she could get ahold of, but by the time she turned around…the kitchen had descended into total darkness. She heard movement from his side of the kitchen, but not before she’d made it to the other side of the counter and placed the large solid obstacle between them.
Gwen went against all instinct and froze, holding her breath so that he couldn’t hear her.
He must be doing the same.
The first noise to break the barrier didn’t come from the kitchen, though. It was the engine of a large truck. It was Irish bringing Chad home. Neither one of them were aware of the dangers that awaited them hidden in the darkness, and this had now become a cat and mouse game to see who could find the other first.
Gwen didn’t have to close her eyes to picture the layout of her new kitchen. She should have open space to launch herself at the man on the floor, but she wasn’t so sure he was there anymore.
Little by little, the piercing pain in her side began to make itself known.
She bit her lip to suppress the agonizing moan that wanted to escape. She had no choice but to use the darkness to her advantage, so she slowly lowered herself back down to the floor. If only she could reach the back door. She’d make a run for it, though that did go against her nature.
Still, that idea was the smartest plan she could implement, given the circumstances. She’d also be able to warn Chad before he…
Had the front door just opened?
Shit.
Chad was already inside the house.
And Irish had left from the soft rumbling sound of the retreating engine.
Gwen wasn’t about to go out the back and leave Chad as some kind of sacrificial lamb. He had no idea what waited for him inside, which meant she needed to give him fair warning. Unfortunately, doing so would let this scumbag know her exact location.
There had to be a way out of this.
Gwen did close her eyes this time, willing her body to keep moving. Blood had coated her sweater and the upper part of her jeans. She couldn’t risk stopping for a towel, so she slowly and silently released another unsteady breath as she took a step to her left. She would inch toward the living room instead of the back door. It would be harder for this man to defend against two people. She winced at the sudden clatter of metal skidding slightly on the kitchen tile.
Her firearm.
There was no time to think over the situation. She had no choice but to react, because he would do the same. A part of her mind registered the small, brilliant LED cell that shed a pitifully miniscule amount of light for the strength of its source. Chad must be just outside the kitchen doorway, but there wasn’t enough light to illuminate the dark shadows of the large kitchen.
Gwen did the only thing she could.
She all but lunged toward the floor, doing her best to keep ahold of the knife as she used her left hand to sweep the floor. It was an unconscious gesture. The pain in her side was becoming almost unbearable, but she refused to let that stop her knowing full well she or Chad could be the next victim to die at the hands of a serial killer.
To Gwen’s relief, her fingers touched the cool metal of her firearm. She wasn’t a lefty, but she could damn well shoot weak-handed good enough to hit a man-sized target at this range.
She didn’t hesitate.
She lifted her weapon toward the rapid shuffle of footsteps, struggling through the pain to identify the direction. Was he coming toward her? Was he running away from her toward the backdoor?
Gwen had a split second to decide if he was about to attack again.
She refused to be any more of a victim than he’d already made her. Any h
esitancy could be at the cost of her or Chad’s life.
For the second time that evening, Gwen squeezed the trigger on her Beretta.
*
“Gwen!”
A ringing had set up residence in Chad’s ears from the discharge of the pistol, but that didn’t prevent him from holding the phone in front of him to locate the one woman who had all but turned his life upside down.
“Gwen!”
“Back door. He went out the back door!”
Chad searched in the direction of Gwen’s voice, finally finding her on the tiled floor between the island and the refrigerator.
“Are you—”
Chad went to kneel when she all but forced herself to stand. She barked another order before he could ascertain the problem.
“Chad, go! He went out the back door.” Gwen’s last word was basically a hiss, and he didn’t need to be a doctor to know the sound of pain. “I’ll follow behind if—”
Multiple things happened at once to prevent Chad from leaving her side. The distant sound of sirens cut through the air at the same time the motor of the refrigerator began to hum. The overhead light above the sink flickered twice before remaining on, allowing Chad to see…
“What the fuck happened?”
Chad didn’t stop to think. He instinctively put down both his phone and the firearm she’d forced into his hand. He quickly opened the drawer that contained the hand towels to use them as bandages for her wound.
“You can’t do that,” Gwen argued, squinting her eyes against the light as she focused on the back door. “Chad, listen to me. He went out the back—”
Car doors and shouts could now be heard from out front, cutting off Gwen’s lecture about the man who attacked her. Chad didn’t give a shit what transpired before, but there was no way in hell he was leaving her side now.
“Mitch can send his deputies. Gwen, you’re bleeding badly.” Chad ignored Gwen’s attempt at shoving him away. The amount of blood she’d lost told him that she wouldn’t be standing on her feet for much longer, anyway. “I’m not leaving you.”
Heavy footsteps up the porch and into the house finally made it into the kitchen, but Gwen saw to it that they kept moving.
“He went out the back door, Mitch,” Grace managed to say before tilting her head back as she tried to breathe through the pain. Chad slowly eased her down to the floor, not caring what Mitch or the other deputies did…as long as they called for an ambulance. “He has a knife. No firearm. Maybe five eleven and lean. Short hair.”
Mitch must have given a signal, because nearly every individual he’d brought with him left the house quickly and efficiently searching for the man who had only moments before attacked her.
Chad maintained pressure on the dishtowel over the long knife wound down Gwen’s side, astounded that she was able to give Mitch all that information without batting an eye. He glanced up from what he was doing to see that her features had pretty much lost all the color she had left. How she was still conscious was beyond him.
“Take care of her.” Mitch took a moment to rest a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “Julie should be here in a minute.”
And just like that, Mitch was gone. Chad and Gwen weren’t left alone in the kitchen, though. One man remained behind, though he wasn’t one of Blyth Lake’s deputies. He most likely belonged on Agent Thorne’s team of federal agents.
Chad didn’t care who stayed behind. He was glad that Julie was on duty and not Billy Stanton, but honestly anyone with medical expertise would do in this moment.
“Chad, I’m fine,” Gwen said, trying to muster up a smile. She failed miserably. “Damn, that hurts.”
“You’re not fine.” Chad had been kneeling, but his knees finally gave out. He sat on his ass while continuing to apply pressure, all the while ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking and covered in her blood. “You’ve been stabbed, Gwen.”
“No, the knife missed and only sliced my side open. There’s a big difference.” Gwen squeezed her eyes closed as another wave of pain must have washed over her. Chad hated the experience of feeling helpless, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do right now to help her. Anger began to simmer below the surface. “A few stitches, and I’ll be—”
“Don’t.” Chad couldn’t take any more of her rhetoric. He’d had enough. “You’re hurt, Gwen. You could have fucking died.”
“But I didn’t.” Chad hadn’t realized that he’d taken his eyes off her face, most likely because he couldn’t stand to see her in so much pain. He looked on as she rested her hand gently over his, almost as if she were comforting him. “Chad, I’m fine. Really. I’ll even wager the doctor at the hospital will put in less than twenty sutures.”
“I’m not going to bet you on…” Chad let his voice trail off, realizing what she was doing. Here she was—the one who was stabbed, trying to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. She was trying to keep him from going into shock. “I’m a civilian, Gwen. I’ve heard your brothers talk about their experiences in the military, just as I’m sure you have similar tales. But the worst thing I’ve ever dealt with was a nail through my thumb. This…this is wrong. You’re hurt. You’re bleeding. You shouldn’t be—”
“Making light of the situation?” Gwen asked, resting her head back against the cupboard. She bit her lip. He’d only ever seen her do that once, and that was at his house that very first night when she’d been talking about life choices and her mother. “I really, really don’t want to break down in front of Julie. She’ll tell everyone in town that I’m a lightweight, and then it might get back to…”
The Blyth Lake Killer.
If Chad had handled this situation differently, maybe the title could have been retired and the man it belonged to behind bars.
“Then I’ll make this wager with you,” Chad managed to say, willing to give this woman anything she wanted. “Twenty-five sutures.”
“There’s that much blood, huh?” Gwen didn’t bother to look down at the dishtowel fully soaked with her blood. Hell, he’d had to look away. “Well, this certainly wasn’t in the playbook.”
Chad lifted an arm to tuck a black strand of hair behind her ear. It was really only to give himself something to do, but she tilted her face so that her cheek rested in the palm of his hand.
“I love you, city girl.”
He hadn’t meant to say those exact words, especially now. That type of declaration was meant to come with flowers, a candlelight dinner, and maybe some soft music in the background.
Shouts of men and women could be heard in a distance as the search for a serial killer continued outside of this very house. The screened door was being opened and then slammed shut, most likely signaling the entrance of the paramedics. Commotion reigned all around them, but all Chad could focus on was the woman who completed him in a way he’d never thought possible.
“That wasn’t on my list, either,” Gwen whispered, lifting her lashes to reveal those pretty blue eyes of hers.
“Yes, it was. You know it was,” Chad managed to say with a straight face. “I penciled it in your planner this morning, but you must have missed it.”
Julie came into view with her bag and another medic by her side, but Gwen reached out so that she could grab ahold of his shirt.
“Did you also pencil in my reply?”
“No, that was a pending action item.” Chad fought the urge to pull her tight against him. The sudden shift in movement would undoubtedly cause her pain, and what she needed most was medical attention. He reminded himself that she was going to be okay and they had a long future ahead of them. “We can talk after Julie transports you to the hospital.”
“But—”
“Gwen Kendall, this is not how I thought I’d welcome you home.”
Chad shifted to the side so that Julie could take ahold of the stained dishtowel, destined to be thrown away after this. He covered his mouth with his hand so that Gwen didn’t see the pulling of his lips as he attempted to compose himself.<
br />
He could have lost her tonight.
It was an overwhelming thought, and one he couldn’t dwell on right this moment. The only thing that mattered was that Gwen had survived and hadn’t been added to the victim count of a psychopath who’d terrorized Blyth Lake for far too long.
He was done sitting on the sidelines. He might be a civilian, but he could damn well defend himself and those he loved. It was time for this town to band together to flush out the evil that had existed among them for far too long. He reached for the weapon Gwen had pushed into his hands only moments ago.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gwen quickly slipped her laptop underneath the covers. She winced as the twenty-six stitches in her side pulled a bit as she turned on her left side and let her head sink into the pillow. She had been told by the ER doctor that she should rest easy today, but that was rather hard when she was the only one who could trade for her clients at the moment.
Low murmurs of several voices traveled up the stairs, but the muffled conversations weren’t enough to camouflage Chad’s footsteps coming down the hallway. She forced herself to keep her eyes closed, not wanting him to catch her working instead of following the doctor’s orders.
She understood his concern, but she really was okay…well, physically. Mentally she was berating herself for letting the Blyth Lake Killer escape when she’d been so close to taking him down. It turned out that she had hit her target like she’d thought, but it had only been a graze. Agent Thorne had one of his forensic people remove the bullet from the doorframe in her living room. It was currently being sent to the FBI forensics lab for DNA testing.
Would there be enough DNA on the bullet to make an identification? The amount of blood required was incredibly tiny, but the sample had been superheated by the bullet.
“Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?”
Unlocking Shadows (Keys to Love, Book Four) Page 18