Forsaken

by Sarah Ballance

  What the—?

  “Colt?” Stunned, Gage tugged on the sleeve until it slid upward.

  And then he knew.

  “Fuck!” Heart pounding, Gage turned and sprinted from the room. He saw an emergency exit just a couple doors down and took it, praying he wouldn’t set off a bunch of alarms. As soon as his feet hit the pavement outside, he remembered he was stuck without a ride. Riley had his truck and his gun went with it, and Gage didn’t have time to wait for reinforcements. He glanced around the parking lot and spied a trio of maintenance vehicles in the corner.

  Breathing hard, he darted for the most beat-up one in the bunch. He threw open the door and dove to the floorboard, fully intending to hotwire the truck, but luck was on his side. The keys were lying on the mat.

  “Idiots,” he grumbled, slamming the door and firing the engine.

  He had precisely one guess as to Riley’s whereabouts, and she had a hell of a head start.

  His instinct had better be a damn good one.

  The trip home from Tehcotah took less than an hour, and the more distance Riley put between herself and Gage, the worse she felt. She maintained her right to be angry that he kept the truth from her—learning her own father helped with the lie stung even more—but she also knew she was holding onto something they’d long since left behind. She’d forgiven everything else—even the accident, not that Gage could have changed anything. He just happened to be the guy behind the wheel when her world was ripped apart. He hadn’t deserved to shoulder blame alone.

  Her anger back then had come at an immeasurable cost to them both.

  Riley’s house slipped into view. She steered Maverick’s truck into her drive and parked next to her car, surprised it hadn’t been towed in light of her recent involvement in a crime spree. Dawson’s patrol car was gone, but the shattered front window of her home and a strand of crime scene tape offered reminder enough.

  She sat in the truck, absentmindedly watching the yellow ribbon waver in the breeze and fighting the urge to turn around and drive right back to Gage. Unease washed over her in the form of a full body shiver when she realized she didn’t have his phone number, and she couldn’t find Maverick’s place again if her life depended on it. The sun was getting low, and the dimming light took her right back to the night Gage walked back into her life, weapon drawn, and changed everything all over again.

  She knew she’d see him again. She just didn’t know what he’d come after: her or the truck.

  The sounds of wildlife filled the woods around her and drifted through the open window, causing her to hesitate with her fingers on the door handle. Coyotes seldom hunted humans, but with the recent bloodshed in her yard and nearby sightings of bears and mountain lions—to say nothing of her run of bad luck—she opted not to take any chances. Riley grabbed the revolver from its spot on the console and tucked it into her purse, then hesitated just a moment before she tossed the note in after it. Taking a deep breath, she let herself out of the truck and made her way around the house, opting for the back door so she wouldn’t have to look at the blood stain she tried not to see on the front porch.

  The crimson drew her attention anyway, refusing to be ignored. I’m sorry, Dawson.

  Walking into her kitchen again was bittersweet. The house smelled funny. Whether it had to do with the scene processing or was better attributed to her imagination, she couldn’t know. Something was just off. But after the past couple of days, what wasn’t?

  Riley tucked her bag to her side and hugged her arms to her chest. She didn’t want to go in the front room, but she knew she’d never sleep until she put that particular task behind her. From her position in the doorway, the broken glass reminded her of the bullet that took a chunk out of Gage and her heart lurched, her emotions sprawling like the shards across the floor.

  The window beckoned.

  Glass crunched underfoot, but she kept her attention to the outdoors. She scanned the woods, the hairs on the back of her neck drawing to attention when she thought of a murderer there, waiting. He’d probably watched her drive up that day and let herself through the front door. Why hadn’t he killed her then? Chills raced down her spine, electrifying her limbs. The thought of dying didn’t bother her nearly as much as the thought of dying without knowing Gage again. What she wouldn’t give to have the past twelve months back.

  Or to have a new window…she’d give a lot to have unbroken glass in the front room. Clearly, it wouldn’t stop a bullet, but that didn’t keep the idea from sounding like a good one. Riley shivered and gripped her bag. Going back to the house alone had been a ridiculous idea. Leaving it sounded like a plan.

  She backed from the window, and her gaze swept the bloodstain Dawson left on the floor. In the waning light, it gaped black and threatening. Unsettled, sickened by the sight, she gasped and backpedaled, stumbling over her own feet in an attempt to put distance between her and the bloodshed.

  “Something wrong, Riley?”

  She froze.

  The voice came from the darkest corner of the room.

  She knew that voice.

  She turned in a slow, deliberate motion. “Colt?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Answer…answer, dammit.”

  Gage gripped his cell phone with one hand and negotiated the truck through traffic with the other. Riley had at least thirty minutes on him—maybe forty-five. He wondered if she drove faster when she was angry and prayed like hell she didn’t.

  He punched another call through to Maverick, upset with himself for not remembering Riley’s cell number. Gage had long given up his personal cell phone for Maverick’s throwaways, and he’d never added her number to his contacts for obvious reasons. She didn’t have her phone anyway—thanks to him—but when she got home she’d probably go straight for it to check messages. Barefoot was a small town like any other—he didn’t need proof to know she was headline news thanks to her connection to him and the two murders. Everyone in town probably wanted to get the story out of her.

  But one person wanted much more than a damned story.

  And Gage was without a way to protect her.

  Frustration exploded into bitter shards of helplessness. He hung up on Maverick’s unanswered line and dialed Riley’s house with his thumb, hitting several wrong numbers in the process. He wasn’t sure if the old landline number still existed, but maybe it did. Maybe she was there. Maybe she’d answer. Even if she just hung up on him, Gage needed a connection. He needed a way to try.

  Her phone rang for several minutes before the phone company kyboshed it with a click. Then silence.

  Swearing, Gage again tried Maverick. He, at least, was on speed dial.

  Answering on the second ring, he grunted, “What?”

  Gage fumbled to get the phone to his ear. “Maverick, it’s Colt.”

  “Identity crisis, Gage? Nice try. I recognized your voice.”

  Fucking hell. “No, damn you. It’s Colt.”

  “What?” Maverick sounded half-asleep, and the sun wasn’t even down yet. The boss man was slipping.

  Gage swerved between two eastbound cars, inventing a center lane to do it. He waited for horns to stop blaring before he replied. “Colt is not in rehab.”

  “What?” Now Maverick sounded alert. “Of course he is. I verified his location myself.”

  “I just paid him a visit. They think it’s him, but it’s not Colt. He’s not there, Maverick. Dammit, I’ve got to find Riley…”

  “Riley isn’t with you?” Concern edged into Maverick’s voice.

  Hearing his worried tone, Gage’s angst doubled. “No, she’s with your truck.”

  Maverick’s voice tightened. “And where the hell are you?”

  “I’m going after her.” And God help Gage if the cops snagged his tail. They’d make one loud parade through the streets of Barefoot if it came down to it, but he
would not stop now. Not for anything.

  Maverick spewed a blue streak of profanity more impressive than the last. Finally pausing for breath, he asked, “Who’s running up Colt’s rent at rehab?”

  Gage looked over his shoulder and merged, forcing space between two cars. “My guess? Tom Rigby’s cousin, Jake. Whoever he was had me completely fooled until I saw a tattoo on his shoulder.”

  “Wait. Colt can’t get a tattoo?” Maverick sounded skeptical.

  “Colt wouldn’t get one. Terrified of needles. And before you tell me he might have changed his mind, I’ll go ahead and say he wasn’t sporting one the day of the accident. He had on a tank top—one of those wife beaters—when he left the restaurant that night. Unless they pass out tats as party favors in ICU, or someone did an impressive job with a Sharpie, that’s not Colt in that bed at Tehcotah Rehab.”

  Maverick didn’t say anything, the silence maddening. Finally, he asked, “Are you sure there wasn’t a mix-up in the room number or the chart or something?”

  “No way. He’s a dead ringer for Colt—same hair, same features, same profile. It’s a lightning strike at best. I don’t know how they put all of this together but they did. Tom’s sudden interest in Colt. Best friends, even though Riley never heard of him before. They set this up.”

  “The accident.” Maverick’s mumbling barely sounded over the noise of the old truck pushing ninety with the windows down. “They must have staged it to swap Colt and Jake at the scene of the accident before help arrived. But why set the fire?”

  “No telling what kind of documentation they had in there. If nothing else, they could be trying to hide insurance fraud. Nine months of stolen benefits—or masterminding it—will put a few bars around a person.” Gage blew past a line of cars in the slow lane and darted around a big rig blocking his way. “Hell, Maverick. I don’t know what the guy is thinking. All I know is Colt is not in rehab, and I’ll bet anything I’ve got he’s the one who pulled the trigger on Billy. He shouldn’t have been there that day. Colt wanted me. Kill me and Riley takes the blame. What better way to hurt Riley than play on her guilt? If as far as she knows Colt never recovers, she’s got to live with that. He blamed her for not sending me to jail. Besides, no one else in the world has such motive to kill me.”

  “That’s debatable,” muttered Maverick. “Okay, I’m convinced. What’s the address again?”

  Gage told him. “I’m going there now. I don’t know if she’s there, but I can’t think of a better place for Colt to wait for her, especially if he doesn’t want to go public.”

  “I’ll call the authorities. Maybe they’ll get there before you can.”

  “Good. I don’t care if they haul Riley in on sight—Colt won’t be able to get to her that way—but tell them to keep the cuffs off me until she’s safe.”

  Maverick sighed. “How about we just try to keep you both out of jail?”

  “Deal. And after you finish with the law, give that rehab place a call. Let them know I had to borrow their truck, but they’ll get it back.” Gritting his teeth, Gage careened around another eighteen-wheeler to the blast of an air horn. “Maybe in one piece.”

  Maverick gave a sigh—one Gage barely made out over the whine of the truck engine and rush of wind in his ears. “Will do. And Gage?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt her.” It was Maverick’s way of saying don’t worry.

  “No, it’s me he wants to hurt,” Gage said. “Her…he just wants her to suffer.”

  The man leaned back in the chair. As she watched, he propped one foot and then the other on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hey, little sister.”

  Riley wanted to run across the room and throw herself into his arms, but shock kept her rooted to the spot. Last she heard, the news had been both grim and definite. Colt would never walk again. Never use his arms. Never have a life at all outside of that hospital bed. “You can walk?” The words came out in a whisper, her heart so full it ached in her chest and spread joy to her limbs.

  He grinned, and a bit of light filled the deep shadow beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. He held out his hands and shrugged. “You know me. Tell me I can’t do something, and you can consider it done.”

  Riley would have laughed at the absurd truth in his words if not for the turmoil in her gut. Guilt besieged her for abandoning him, even if it had been at his insistence. She crossed the room and sank onto the coffee table so she faced him. “You said you never wanted to see me again. I haven’t visited…I’m sorry.”

  Colt lifted the hat from his head and resettled it at an angle, allowing her a full view of his face. With his trademark up-to-no-good smile, he said, “No worries. I told you I didn’t want to see you, and nothing’s changed.”

  His tone was light—friendly, even—so it took a minute for the words to process. “What?”

  “Nothing’s changed.”

  She looked at him, confused, bewilderment clogging her throat.

  He placed his hands behind his head, knocking the hat off kilter. “I had some unfinished business to take care of.”

  “Oh.” Still reeling, she looked from her hands to the floor, then to the corner of the room.

  Colt laughed. It rang hollow and strange. “Come on, Riley. You’re no fun at all. Aren’t you going to ask about my unfinished business?”

  Heart filling with unease, she found his eyes through the fading light. “Um, yeah. What sort of unfinished business do you have?”

  Colt adjusted his hat and beamed at her. “I came to kill Gage Lawton.”

  “What?” Riley jumped to her feet and backed away, staring at her brother in disbelief.

  He shrugged. “Problem was, I missed—in a manner of speaking, that is. Who knew your boyfriend would pick that very day to have a little reunion with his brother?”

  “You…you killed Billy?”

  “Yep.”

  My God, he’s proud of it. “But—” she stammered. “But you’re supposed to be in the rehab place in Tehcotah. We just went there to see you. Gage—”

  “Screw Gage.” Colt laughed again, a bitter sound from deep in his throat. “But I guess you’ve covered that already, huh? Where’s your loyalty to family, Riley? That bastard ruined everything for me. For you. He killed Mom and Dad, and there you go spreading your legs for him. He should be dead, not them, but you couldn’t even let his ass rot in jail.”

  “It was an accident,” she said quietly, unable to look away from her brother’s angry scowl. “It was a horrible accident, and there’s nothing anyone could have done to prevent it.”

  He snorted. “Accident? You call driving around on a case of beer an accident?”

  “He wasn’t drinking,” she said, remembering Gage’s admission with tightness in her throat. “He quit. He quit months before it happened.”

  “No he didn’t. And when I found out he lied to you, we came to blows. You may have noticed some tension between us? That’s how I stand up for you, little sister.” Colt’s voice remained light, but his eyes turned dark and storm clouds mulled over his expression. “Dad knew. Even then, Gage was still so damn perfect. Did you know Dad knew?”

  The words came with the physical force of a weapon, no doubt just as Colt intended. “Yes,” she whispered. “Gage told me.”

  Colt swore, shaking his head. “I hoped you didn’t know,” he said, his voice rising. “I hoped you didn’t let him walk for fucking murder when you knew.”

  Frightened, Riley shrank back, adding several steps to the distance between them. “No, no! I didn’t know at the time. I just found out,” she said. “Just now. I just left him. I left him at the rehab place.”

  Some of the anger seemed to drain from Colt, cockiness taking its place. “That was brilliant, wasn’t it? He’ll never know I’m not there.”

  What was brilliant?
“You’re still listed as a patient there. They must know. How long have you been gone?”

  “Never went,” he said, pride edging into his voice. “They wouldn’t know. I’ve been there all along, you see.”

  Riley struggled through her shock to make sense of his admission. “Someone’s there? Who’s there in your place?”

  Colt slipped back into bragging mode. “They made me go to a support group, as if you can change one miserable bastard’s outlook by putting him in a room full of other hopeless pieces of shit. But I was paralyzed…what the fuck could I do about it?”

  She nodded, feigning agreement.

  “Anyway, I met this other guy. Tom. He couldn’t get over how familiar I looked. He was stuck taking care of his cousin and had better things to do, so we made a deal.”

  “You made a deal?” She played dumb to what little she and Gage had been able to piece together with Maverick’s help, wondering if Colt knew Tom’s place had gone up—or down as the case may be—in a ball of fire.

  “Yep. I was getting some feeling back in my legs, but too damn pissed at the world to let those physical therapists know it. Couldn’t stand to hand them a victory—the smug little bastards—so I played limp and wouldn’t let them convince me otherwise. Tom came in after hours and dragged me around the room until I got my legs under me. Wasn’t perfect, but all we needed was progress. We’d have time from there. Anyway, then we made a little switch. Tom’s cousin is getting all expenses paid care courtesy of my inheritance—thanks for that, by the way—and Tom got himself a new roommate. One who didn’t need his fucking diapers changed. Cousin Jake looks so much like me those morons in Tehcotah never knew the difference. Slap on a ‘no visitors’ order so we don’t get any surprises, and everyone wins.”

  Riley swallowed. She fiddled with the straps of her bag, her fingers drumming themselves into a nervous cadence. Had Gage gotten in to see Colt? If so, did he know? Would he know? People did tend to change over the course of a year, and Gage had no reason to doubt it was Colt in the bed. None at all.

  A flash of movement dragged her from her thoughts. Sickness crawled through her veins as she realized the object in question was her daddy’s rifle, and it was pointed at her.