by Rita Herron
Her eyes softened, tearing at his heart. “But I don’t want him to hurt you. Maybe we should go to the police.”
“You know good and well they’ll shoot me before they’ll listen. And then Lester will escape.”
Sadie curled her hands into his.
“If you can’t do it, Sadie, I’ll call—”
“No.” Sadie straightened her spine, determination lighting a fire in her eyes. “You’re right. It’s time for us to expose Lester so everyone will know the truth.”
He offered her an encouraging smile and released his grip on her, then handed her Loretta’s phone. Her hand looked surprisingly steady as she punched Redial. Carter’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest as he leaned close to hear the conversation.
“All right, Flagstone,” Lester growled. “I know it’s you.”
Sadie stroked the prayer beads at her neck. “No, it’s me, Sadie Whitefeather.”
A surprised grunt echoed over the line. “Well, well, well, my little chiquita. You miss your old friend?”
Carter gritted his teeth at the look of anger that flashed across Sadie’s face. But better anger than cold fear.
“Listen to me, Lester. I’m tired of you watching me. I’ll make you a deal.”
Lester muttered a sarcastic sound. “You’re getting brave, darlin’.”
“I just want you off my back,” Sadie said with more conviction.
A tense silence vibrated for a millisecond, then Lester grunted. “What are you offering?”
“I know where Carter Flagstone is.”
“You’ll give him up?” Lester coughed. “Hell, I thought you were screwing the cowboy.”
“Not since he escaped,” Sadie said. “He hates me now.”
“You ain’t that woman the cops seen him with?”
Sadie lowered her voice to a whisper. “Yes, I am. But he’s been holding me at gunpoint. I finally snuck this phone away from him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”
“How do I know this isn’t a setup?”
“Just think about it, smart guy. You know I was the reason Carter went to jail. You really think he and I are friends now?”
Her gaze met Carter’s, and his throat swelled with emotions. He had hated her for so long that he’d thought he’d wring her neck when he finally found her.
Now he’d give his life—and his freedom—to protect her.
He just hoped they both didn’t die trying to settle this score.
“All right. Where do I find him?” Lester asked.
Sadie licked her lips, and Carter mouthed directions.
“He’s heading over to the liquor store near our motel.” Sadie gave him the address. “And remember, once you take care of him, we’re done. No more stalking me. No more threats.”
“How do I know you won’t go to the police and tell them I killed Flagstone?” Lester shot back.
“If I planned to go to the cops, I would have called them instead of you.” Sadie looked up at Carter, her eyes swimming with turmoil. “I want him and you out of my life for good.”
Lester hesitated, his breathing heavy over the line. “All right,” he finally agreed. “But if you do call the cops, I’ll find you again.” His voice dropped a decibel. “And next time that knife will go clean through your heart.”
Anger and fury spiked Carter’s adrenaline at the man’s vile words. Sadie paled, then gave him a bleak nod as she disconnected the call. “Carter—”
He pulled her up against him and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s going to be okay, Sadie. I promise I won’t let him hurt you.”
She leaned into his embrace. “Just be careful. I…don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Carter’s lungs tightened at the way she fit into his arms. It was the first time in years someone actually sounded like they gave a damn about him.
And she was the first person he’d cared about, as well.
Finding Lester was the only way to make them both whole again.
He wouldn’t let her down.
FEAR CLAWED AT SADIE as Carter yanked on the denim jacket she’d bought, then checked his gun and headed to the door. What if their plan went awry and Carter was injured? Or worse, killed?
Itching to do something herself, she crossed the room to him. “Carter, wait. I don’t want you to go out there alone.”
Carter tilted his head sideways, his eyes darkening. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about me, Sadie.”
Her heart fluttered. She hated to show her weakness for the man, that she was falling for him, but she couldn’t lie, either. “What if I am?”
A slow smile softened the harsh planes of his face. Then he lifted his hand and feathered her bangs away from her forehead with his fingers. “I’ve tangled with worse than Lester in prison and survived.”
“But he has a gun,” Sadie whispered. “And for all we know he may be working with a partner.”
Carter shrugged off her concern. “I survived prison. I’ll survive this.”
Sadie frowned. “Your life is not something to take lightly,” she said. “All life is sacred.”
Carter arched a brow. “So you only care because of your Navajo beliefs?”
A blush heated Sadie’s cheeks. “No.”
Carter’s breath whispered out, then he pressed his lips against hers. Sadie sighed and leaned into him, then stroked his cheek, savoring the kiss. His tongue probed her lips apart and she welcomed him inside, aching for more and suddenly terrified that this might be the last chance she had to be close to him.
She wanted more.
But Carter pulled away, then brushed her cheek with the palm of his hand. “If anything happens to me, Sadie, promise me you’ll call Johnny Long. He’ll protect you and make sure that Lester gets caught.”
Sadie’s throat clogged with tears. “Carter—”
“Shh.” He pressed his finger to her lips then removed the car keys from his pocket. “Now, take the keys to the car and drive down the street and wait. Lester doesn’t know what kind of vehicle we’re driving, but he knows this motel is near the liquor store. He might come here first.”
Sadie’s legs felt quivery, but she nodded and took the keys.
“If you see him, Sadie, don’t wait on me. Drive away, call Johnny and ask him to meet you at the BBL. I’ll meet up with you after I find out why Lester set me up.”
Sadie searched his face. Was he trying to get rid of her because he planned to kill Lester?
She bit her tongue to keep from asking as he opened the door and tugged her toward the station wagon. Then she climbed inside, started the engine and drove from the parking lot down the street as Carter had instructed.
But she positioned herself near the alley where she could watch when Carter passed it on foot to the liquor store. Her hand trembled as she pulled her derringer from her purse and flicked off the car lights.
Every life was sacred.
She’d been taught that by her people.
But Carter had suffered enough because of Lester.
If he tried to sabotage Carter, she’d defend him.
CARTER SCANNED THE PERIMETER of the motel, the parking lot, the dark side street that led down to an abandoned warehouse row. He didn’t see Lester.
But he felt him.
Sensed that the bastard was watching as he had been for years. Keeping tabs on him in prison and on Sadie every time she’d moved.
So where was he hiding?
He tried to steady his breathing, remembered the skills he’d honed in prison, how to focus his senses on every sound around him, every smell, every prickly feeling that rippled up his neck.
Relying on those instincts had kept him alive.
It would do so now and help him catch Lester.
He cut his eyes to the left then right, his boots cracking against the gravel as he strode into the liquor store. Red lighting advertised the beer and wine section, the hard liquors showcased by a bear-crossing sign pointing to the wall.
He’d c
raved a cold beer in the pen, but tonight his gut yearned for whiskey. He headed toward the bourbon, scanning the bar for Lester.
Maybe he’d have reason to celebrate after he confronted him.
Instead he spotted a kid barely old enough to drive sneaking a bottle of rum in his black leather jacket. The kid spotted him and gave him a threatening glare, and Carter choked back a laugh. The kid had no idea he was a convicted felon who could tear him apart in seconds.
But he reminded him of himself at that age, so he shrugged it off. Let the owner of the store deal with him.
He chose a bottle of bourbon from the shelf, tugging his baseball hat low on his head as he stepped up to the cash register. An elderly lady with sun-tarnished skin and white hair looked up from her gun magazine long enough to ring his purchase and take his cash, but thankfully didn’t pay him any attention.
He tucked the brown bag inside his denim jacket, glanced once more around the store and noticed the kid was fidgeting as he approached the register. Then he stepped outside. Another glance in all directions. Nothing.
In fact, except for a Jeep with another kid inside, obviously waiting on his friend, the parking lot was eerily silent.
Carter clenched his teeth. He knew Lester was here though. Skulking somewhere in the shadows. Waiting to pounce.
Taking shallow breaths to slow his heart rate, he crossed the lot heading toward the motel, his senses alert, listening for the tiniest sound. The crack of a twig. The scrape of a shoe. A rock skittering in the dirt.
A breath.
He was inches from the alley when the sound of a gun being cocked reverberated in the silence. He heard the sound of the bullet skimming through the air, then drew his gun and jumped aside just in time for the shot to miss him.
Flattening himself against the concrete wall of the building on the corner of the alley, he swung his weapon out then peered into the shadows. A footstep scuffing the cement made him glance to the left, and he spotted the silhouette of a man.
“Come on out and face me, Lester,” Carter said, using the building corner to shield him. “You framed me. The least you can do is tell me the reason.”
“Damn you, Flagstone,” Lester growled. “You should have died in prison.”
“But I didn’t,” Carter said. “And you picked the wrong man to screw with.”
A sinister chuckle rent the air. “I picked a drunk with a bad attitude. You were the perfect patsy.”
Carter couldn’t argue with that point. “I’m not a dumb kid anymore,” he said in a lethal tone.
Another shot pinged toward Carter and he raced into the alley, dodging it. He had to get to Lester. Footsteps clattered. Lester cursed.
Another shot ripped toward him, and he dove to the side to dodge it, but suddenly he spotted another shadow in the alley from the opposite end of the street.
Sadie!
Dear God… “Go back, Sadie!” Carter yelled.
Lester lunged toward her and Carter fired. Lester bellowed a curse, then spun around and fired at Carter.
Carter swerved sideways to avoid the shot, but the bullet pierced his stomach with a fiery burn that rocked him back on his heels. Sadie screamed and started toward him, but Lester raised his weapon and fired at her.
Carter aimed at Lester and pulled the trigger, then pressed his hand to his gut to stem the bleeding. Lester inched toward him, hiding in the shadows, but Carter fired again.
Then Lester’s body slumped to the ground.
The pain made Carter weak, and he staggered. But he had to get to Lester, had to make him talk. He couldn’t let him escape.
Sucking air through his teeth, he spat out the bile filling his throat, then staggered down the alley toward Lester, keeping his gun trained on the man. Sadie raced toward him.
“Carter, you’re hit,” she cried.
“I know, but have to make Lester talk.”
Fear strained her face, but she slid her arm around his waist to support him, and helped him hobble toward Lester.
Defeat weighed on him as he drew closer to Lester. He wasn’t moving.
Dammit, Lester couldn’t be dead. Then he’d never talk…
Blinking away the dizziness, he staggered closer. By the time he reached Lester, Carter was sweating and shaking.
“Come on, Carter, let me take you to the hospital,” Sadie whispered.
“No, no hospital.” He grunted in pain then dropped to his knees beside Lester’s body.
Lester’s hand shot up and he grabbed Carter’s arm, then Lester gasped for air. A faint light from a building in the distance reflected off the pavement, revealing blood soaking Lester’s shirt. Carter had hit him in the chest.
Lester coughed up blood, his arm jerking violently, his grip loosening until his hand fell limply to the ground.
Carter grunted and aimed his gun at Lester’s head.
“It’s time you told me what’s going on.”
Lester shook his head.
Carter clenched the man’s chin with an ironclad grip. “Why did you kill Dyer? Why me?”
“Told you—”
“I know, because I was drunk. But why kill Dyer?”
Lester’s eyes slid closed, his body convulsing.
Carter shook him. “Tell me, dammit!”
Lester slowly opened his eyelids, blood dribbling from the side of his mouth. “Ask your old man…”
“What kind of game are you playing? My old man is dead,” Carter growled.
“He…knew…”
Lester’s words trailed off as a labored breath rasped from his chest, then his body went slack, his eyes staring wide into space.
Dammit. Lester was dead.
Chapter Eleven
Sadie was so terrified she could barely breathe. Lester was dead, and Carter was losing blood so fast that he would die, too, if she didn’t get him some help.
“Carter,” Sadie whispered. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, though. He leaned his head on his hand and heaved for air. Sweat was pouring off of him, and his body was shaking. He was going into shock.
“What did Lester mean?” Carter asked, his breathing choppy. “My father knew—”
The sound of a siren burst into the night, its wail jarring Sadie. “Carter, someone must have heard the gunshots and called it in. We have to go.”
He looked up at her through a fog of pain and shock. “Help me stand.”
She braced her weight to help him, wincing as he stumbled and nearly collapsed on top of Lester. But he made a sound of determination in his throat then clung to her as she pulled him up and steadied him. Leaning on her, they hurried down the alley toward the station wagon.
By the time they reached it, he was moaning and having a hard time staying on his feet. Worried he was going to pass out before they could escape, she propped him against the car while she opened the door. He collapsed inside the passenger seat just as the lights of the police car shattered the night.
Adrenaline surged through Sadie, and she ran to the driver’s side, jumped in, started the car and backed out of the alley. Police lights swirled against the darkness from the motel side, then tires screeched and the police car veered into the alley.
She eased the car to the corner, and forced herself to drive slowly so as not to call attention to them both, crawling through the first red light, then easing through town. When she reached the outskirts, she veered onto the highway heading away from the area.
Carter moaned, his head lolling back. His pallor was gray and ashen, his jaw slack. Blood was seeping from his belly, worrying her more.
She reached behind her and grabbed one of the bags of clothes, removed two T-shirts she’d bought for him, then balled them up and laid them on his belly. “Carter, press these to your wound.”
He grunted, but allowed her to lift his hand and place it against his injury, although his eyes were rolling back in his head. When she checked his pulse, it was weak and thready. Realizing he
didn’t have the energy to exert enough pressure to stem the blood flow, she used one hand to apply pressure herself and steered with the other.
“Carter,” Sadie said in a low voice. “I’m scared. If you don’t get help, I…don’t know what will happen. I…can’t lose you now.”
“No hospitals. The cops will track me there.” Carter’s eyes flickered open for a brief second, then his gaze met hers. “You…have training,” he rasped. “You can remove the bullet.”
For a brief second, terror flitted through her. She’d never operated on anyone before.
But he would die if the bullet wasn’t removed.
Touching her beads for comfort, she made a snap decision. She’d take him to the reservation, to the shaman who had tended to her after her attack.
Maybe together they could save his life.
CARTER GRITTED HIS TEETH against the pain, the world around him blurring. In spite of his best efforts to stay alert, he drifted in and out of consciousness. The bitter taste of blood and sweat and the realization that he was dying taunted him.
Dammit, he had survived childhood beatings, then gang assaults in prison. He’d been stabbed by a knife and a screwdriver in jail, had fractured bones and concussions. And he’d nearly lost a foot when his first cellmate had dropped a brick on it and he’d gotten a staph infection.
And when that bus had crashed and he’d escaped, he’d expected the cops to surface and shoot him in the back.
But he had lived through all that.
He refused to die now.
Not until he cleared his name.
The car bounced over a jut in the road, jarring him, and blood seeped through the T-shirts Sadie had pressed onto his wound. Sadie…
He tried to open his eyes and look at her, to memorize her face just in case something happened and he never saw her again. Because if he did die, he wouldn’t be going to heaven, and Sadie would.
She looked like a damn goddess, strands of that silky black hair slipping from her braid, her delicate jaw set in determination. He struggled to open his mouth and make his voice work, to thank her, to ask where they were going, but he didn’t have the energy.