Justice for Miranda

by Reina Torres

  “You just keep the faith, man. So will we.”

  Trace felt a little weight lift off of his shoulders as he looked around the car. Besides Conor standing at his side, four pairs of game warden partners including a pair of rangers that had just become engaged were looking back at him, ready to walk into darkness at his side. “Get in position.”

  Trish and Joshua, the engaged wardens gave each other a soft smile and look that spoke volumes between them, and Trace knew that’s why he was there. That’s what he wanted with Miranda, and he was going to stop being a bullheaded ass about the issue.

  “Once I’ve got her back, I’m going to tell her-”

  Conor clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “Save the words, Trace. You’ll have her back and then you can tell her anything you want. You know she feels the same way for you.”

  “I don’t deserve her.”

  Laughing quietly, Conor agreed. “I don’t deserve Erin either, but you take the gifts that life gives you and you hold on tight, man. You hold onto Miranda and you make her happy. You’ll never regret it, I promise.”

  Trace blew out a breath. “I’m holding you to that.” He gestured to the back of his truck. “Let’s get suited up, I’m going to need you at my back tonight.”

  Conor gave him a hearty swat to his shoulder. “You need it, I’ve got it.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  Junior was trying to get them all killed. At least that was the thought that went through her mind. In the last few minutes Junior had managed to mess up their plans. He’d taken a higher ‘bid’ and then that bid had been taken back. Now, he was trying to get the first bid re-instated.

  Listening to the amounts bandied about, Miranda had the crazy urge to laugh. Laugh because these guys had no idea how to negotiate a deal. Numbers went up and down, with no common sense. She almost asked for the phone to finish the deal, but that would have given away her advantage. Still, these guys had obviously never made an offer on eBay.

  “Ridiculous.” Everyone else stilled as the attention shifted right back to her. Shit.

  She blamed her loose lips on exhaustion.

  That and her hands, still bound behind her with those freaking plastic ties were completely numb. Even when she tried to wiggle her fingers, she had no sensation at all.

  Even as much as she hated that ‘prickly’ feeling, she would have welcomed the fire of that to the ‘nothing’ she had.

  “Did you say something?”

  “I’m sorry,” she meant the words.

  “You’re too much trouble.”

  “I’m not a problem. I’m the solution. Let me go.”

  She saw him lift his foot and fear gave her a burst of strength, as she rolled away from him. With her ankles still hobbled and her hands nothing more than an obstacle at her back she felt the treads of his boot jam into the tender flesh where her neck ended.

  More pressure and she heard something crack before she felt the pain. It stabbed through her shoulder with a fire like lighting lancing through her.

  She gasped, fighting back tears. “It’s not my fault that your guy screwed up! It’s not my fault you didn’t have the patience to wait for the drug deal and stopped to shoot a deer! You want to blame things on your boss? You want to blame it on me? But I’m thinking-” her voice froze in her throat as he used his foot to roll her onto her belly.

  Miranda turned her head before she was flat on the ground, all she could do now was breathe.

  “-that maybe this isn’t the life for you.”

  She heard the click.

  When she felt the kiss of a gun barrel on her temple she smiled.

  And then she laughed, the movement shaking her shoulders and that made the pain more intense, but she was fine with that. She wanted to feel every second she had left.

  “You,” he shifted his weight to his heel and she felt an unholy pressure against the back of her spine, “are going to pay for that.”

  “Okay,” she sighed, “go ahead.”

  Miranda felt the change in the air around her. Felt as if the world was slowing down. Stopping its eternal spinning as she felt the added pressure of his heel pinch off her nerves.

  And without the pulsing signals from her brain to her heart and her lungs, they slowed down too.

  Wishful thinking.

  Or maybe it was hypoxia.

  But as she stared into the dark woods that closed in on them, she swore she could see Trace looking back at her.

  Trace wanted to put a bullet through the man’s head and then his foot. Hell, he’d stitch a damn line up the leg to the man’s crotch and then up through his heart. He’d do that and then he’d ask for everyone else to hand over their side arms and continue.

  “Give the command, Conor. Damn you, do it!”

  Conor held still beside him, gesturing to the others in the team. They all had their night vision goggles, they used them all the time as wardens, and their silent commands served them well.

  Trace knew he wasn’t helping, but he felt so helpless as he watched Miranda literally under the man’s boot.

  He wanted blood!

  He wanted to spill the man’s guts and leave him for the coyotes or any other animal that wanted a free meal.

  Down on one knee, he focused on her face. Those amazing eyes were darker with the distance, but he saw the moment they started to shine like a glass window, empty on the other side.

  “Go.”

  Conor’s simple command broke the silence of the woods.

  As the wardens stepped out of the woods, guns focused on their targets, they were still aware of each other as they moved forward barking commands.

  “Texas Game Wardens!”

  “Down, weapons down!”

  “On your knees!”

  Trace didn’t speak. He didn’t dare. He walked with his hands empty at his side, straight at the man holding a gun to Miranda’s temple.

  He wouldn’t run. The criminal had his finger on the trigger. Trace couldn’t chance that he’d startle him.

  Trace saw a twitch of the man’s eye and saw the problem. He wanted to lift the gun and point it at the advancing officer, but he couldn’t lose the advantage of having Miranda’s life in the balance.

  Flickering a glance at Miranda, he saw her smiling at him. Bless him, that woman was incredible. Her life in the balance and she smiled… at him.

  He kept walking and they both heard the shouts closing in on them. Sparing a glance. Trace’s target saw his whole world closing in on him. His men were surrendering, he was going to be all alone and Trace was a few strides away.

  That’s when he saw the decision in the other man’s eyes, the hopeless stare that became bitter soul-stealing resolution.

  Spurred on by desperation, Trace began to run, a bellow of denial bursting from his lips.

  The gunman straightened a little, turning to nail Trace with a self-satisfied smile.

  It was maybe four or five inches that opened up between the barrel and Miranda’s head, but that would have to be enough.

  Trace reached for his gun, undoing the snap with a flick of his trigger finger.

  When he was asked about it later, he’d swear the gun jumped into his hand, the familiar grip molding to the callused skin of his palm. And yes, he didn’t sight down the barrel for his shot, but if there was one time in his whole life when he knew he wasn’t going to miss… it was that moment.

  And he took his shot.

  One. Single. Bullet.

  He didn’t see exactly what happened.

  His eyes were on Miranda.

  One moment she wasn’t just breathless… she wasn’t breathing.

  And then one second later she was free.

  But in that second, she’d seen everything.

  Her dream took shape when Trace had stepped out of the shadows. He wasn’t wearing any sort of dark covering over his clothes.

  No, Trace Carson stepped out of the darkness in a pale long-sleeved shirt, dark denim jeans and her
favorite white cowboy hat.

  He was heaven on earth.

  Her avenging angel and white knight in cowboy boots and he was coming for her. And then he was running as she heard a shot explode into the air.

  He was magnificent.

  And kissing her temple. “Thank God,” he whispered to her. “Hold still, darlin’.”

  She heard the telltale click of his knife and felt a tug of some sort and then Trace tried to pull her into his arms but stopped when she whimpered.

  “Shit, babe. What happened?”

  “I think he broke my collarbone.”

  He laid her back in the grass as gently as anyone had ever done for her.

  Noise off to the side said someone was calling in something to the EMTs.

  Miranda couldn’t move her arms but having him at her side, brushing his knuckles gently across her cheek, was all she could ask for. “You came for me.”

  “Damnit, Miranda,” his hand started to tremble, “you were supposed to be at home!”

  She laughed and felt her lungs expand with ease, but there was a pinch in her shoulder. Miranda tried to ignore the pain. “Since when have I done what I’m supposed to?”

  Conor appeared at Trace’s side and gave her a playful wink. “I’m not trying to cut in on the romance, folks. I’m just here to cut your ankles free.”

  Miranda looked up with trust in her eyes. “I think I love you, Conor.”

  “Whoa, no!” Conor shook his head. “Don’t you set me in his sights. That was some damn good shooting, Trace. I was waiting for the chance to take a shot but you nailed him square.”

  Miranda looked up at Trace. “Is that what happened? You shot him?”

  She felt Trace shift and sit down in the grass before he settled down beside her to wait.

  “I did what I needed to do.”

  Miranda wanted to see what he meant but even with her hands and legs free, the injury near her shoulder made it impossible to do much more than lay still.

  He leaned over her and brushed her hair back from her face. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  She laughed and winced as the pain in her shoulder flared. “I smell. I’m busted up. And I’m hungry as hell. Don’t lie to me… just get me something to eat and let everyone know I’m okay.”

  His smile made her feel so much better. “Conor’s taking care of both of those things. The EMTs will be here in a minute and then we’re getting you to the hospital.”

  She tried to nod and winced at the pain. “Sounds good.”

  Trace leaned over her again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Baby, I came so close to losing you.” He gestured behind him. “We’ve got all kinds of folks in these woods. Deputies, Federal Agents, Wardens from all over. Whoever was anywhere near San Antonio flocked in. We even had some help from the air.” He quickly explained what Beth had done, checking the area with the drone after linking up to the GPS to find the tracker she had taken with her.

  “It’s in my shoe,” she sighed, exhaustion quickly taking her last measure of energy. She yawned and leaned her cheek on his palm. “So tired.”

  “Nope.” She felt his thumb sweep over her cheek and she tried to look back up at him. He kept talking. “Don’t fall asleep yet. The paramedics are going to need to ask you questions.”

  “Then they better hurry up,” she grumbled and yawned again, “I need a shower.”

  She swore she could feel him smiling.

  “And you all over me.”

  She heard his laugh and opened her eyes to glare at him. “What’s so funny, Carson?”

  “Uh oh,” Conor coughed, “You’re in trouble, man.

  Several of the firefighters broke through the edge of the woods, two of them bringing the backboard. Two paramedics carried in their packs and moved swiftly over to them.

  “Trace,” her eyes moved, following him as he stood to move back.

  “I’m going to be here. I just need to let them get you ready to move.”

  She was too damn weak to argue, but she was game enough to answer the seemingly endless number of questions.

  By the time she’d satisfied their curiosity they were on their way to the hospital, with Trace sitting beside her as she finally got some rest.

  Chapter 13

  Even with the information they had before Miranda’s arrival, the Feldspar Hospital’s Emergency Department had seemed like it was at sixes and sevens when they’d arrived.

  The handover from EMT to hospital staff had sounded like a high school football game on a Friday night in Texas. Everyone seemed to talk and listen at the same time.

  The resulting tumult of sound made Trace more than a little frustrated. He’d tried to tamp down on his feelings so that he could be there for Miranda, but in the thick of things someone had tried to move her out of the room and Trace had grabbed a hold of the gurney’s side and demanded in no uncertain terms that, “I need to know where you’re taking her.”

  The medical personnel had all stopped in place like they’d hit their marks for a freeze-frame.

  “Trace, stop.” If the exam bay hadn’t been so quiet, he might not have heard her entreaty. “Hey.”

  He watched as she managed the tiniest movement of her index finger, crooking it to gesture him closer.

  He turned his hip to lean against the wheeled table. “Hey, back.”

  “I’m going to be okay.” He heard the words, but he’d seen much of the damage her captors had left behind. “And you need some coffee and a comfy chair.”

  “I’ll stay with you.”

  He saw the narrowed looks from a number of the staff members, but Miranda was his concern, not their stupid policies.

  “You’re thinking so hard,” she sighed, “I swear I can hear it. Just let them run the tests, okay? Once they’re done, I’m going to need you to baby me for a while. So, rest up,” she gave him the weakest smile he’d ever seen on her lips, but she was still smiling, “I’m going to run you ragged.”

  “You got it.”

  That had been almost two hours ago, but still Trace sat on the vinyl waiting room chair staring mindlessly into space while his fingers slowly worked the brim of his hat.

  He managed to glean the barest of information from the staff and knew he’d have to call Jun with an update soon. He just didn’t relish calling just to tell them they were still running tests.

  He’d had just about enough of tests, thank you very much.

  The automatic doors behind him slid open and the wind that came in was laced with hushed voices.

  He was on his feet before the doors had a chance to close, turning around to greet the new arrivals.

  “Ma’am-,”

  “Trace.” Miranda’s mother, Dorothy Jimenez slid her over-sized shoulder bag off and down her arm before she handed it to whoever managed to grab it before she walked toward him with her shorter strides. Whatever she had to say to him, he’d take it and gladly. Miranda was their baby girl and their only child.

  She was their everything, and she was his too. So he understood the blind panic they’d gone through. Even more so because they hadn’t been there on site. They’d had to make do with updates and information passed along.

  “Trace,” her tone was softer, and she took his arm by the wrist as she led him to the corner where an armchair and a loveseat faced each other.

  He could hear George walking after them, his slick soled shoes making short little slides on the polished tiles.

  Trace took the seat across from Dorothy after she sat down and then he waited while George took the seat beside his wife.

  Mrs. Jimenez nodded at him. “What’s happening now?”

  “I’ve gotten updates from the staff as they finish one thing and start on another. Miranda was able to let them know I was… close to the family.”

  Dorothy nodded. “I’m sure she said you are family, Trace. Don’t feel that you have to couch your words with us.”

  And she was right. They needed him to be candid. He went throug
h the x-rays that they’d done, “they had to reset her collar bone and add a pin to keep it in place to heal. That’s going to be a big part of her physical recovery.

  “She had her wrists and ankles bound with ties, but the most damage was to her wrists. They,” he had to clear his throat, “kept her in the bed of the truck on her back. The constant weight and pressure, the lack of blood flow…

  “They’ve cleaned the wounds and applied salve before binding them, but they’ve warned her to let them heel before trying to do too much with her hands. Lifting anything is off limits.”

  George almost laughed at that. “I can just imagine what her face looked like.”

  Trace met his gaze and nodded. “Pretty much what you’d expect.”

  Beside Miranda’s father, her mother blinked away at tears that were gathering on her lashes. “And her spirits?”

  “I haven’t had much of any time at all with her,” he explained, “so I’m not sure how much I can tell you.”

  He felt uncomfortable sitting there before them. Guilt whispered in the back of his head. “Can’t say much can you?”

  But that was the truth. He knew what he ‘thought’ based on the time he’d known her, but she’d been in love with him for more than a few years without him noticing, so he wasn’t sure what he knew about anything, really.

  “Trace?”

  It was her father’s deep bass that reached him and lifted his gaze.

  “You found her. You saved her. You brought her back. Beyond that,” he shrugged, “it’s best not to travel down the dark roads.”

  Dorothy added onto his words. “Knowing that you were out there made me feel so much better, Trace. Don’t borrow trouble, not when we have everything to celebrate.”

  He took in their words and let it all sink in. So many things could have gone badly, but they’d met all of the challenges and had managed to get her away from the men and to a safe place where she had access to great medical care.

  He was damn lucky. And he was going to hold onto that.