by Rowe, Julie
The sheriff took his bag and opened another cupboard, removing more items she couldn’t see and adding them to the bag. Once he was finished, he dropped the bag on the floor next to the door to the wood chipper.
While she watched with increasing dread, he gathered a couple of lab coats that had been hung on the backs of chairs, dropping them on the floor about ten feet from her. He opened a cabinet with safety warning stickers on it and pulled out a couple of bottles then dumped the contents on the pile of fabric. The smell of strong chemicals, alcohol, and other flammables made her gag.
He was going to burn the building down.
With her in it.
He studied the mess he’d made, nodded once, then looked at her and walked over. He crouched a couple of feet away from the cot. “I’m leaving shortly, but I promise to tell your boyfriend goodbye for you.” He said the words like they were part of a normal, average conversation you’d have with a neighbor or acquaintance.
All she could do was stare at him, this monster who’d managed to convince most of the world he was devoted to serving and protecting the public.
He pulled out his gun and shot the light fixture above the pyre he’d created. Sparks flew in several directions and smoke curled and rose from the pile of chemical-soaked lab coats.
The sheriff stood, strode over to pick up his duffel bag, then left through the wood chipper room door.
Flames licked higher and higher from the bonfire, dancing and weaving with the accompanying heavy black smoke.
Kini opened her mouth and screamed as loud as she could. Finally giving voice to her fear, and panic gave her permission to yank at the handcuffs keeping her attached to the cot. She yanked and pulled until the cuff cut into her skin. Her blood, hot and slick, was almost enough to allow her hand to pass through the cuff. Almost, but not quite.
The fire alarm went off again, adding to her panic.
The flames grew and the smoke expanded to fill the room.
Coughing, she slid off the cot and onto the floor where the smoke was at its lowest concentration.
A blow, loud enough to be heard over the alarm, hit the side of the room with the hidden entrance.
Another blow and another and another.
The steel door screeched and buckled near the doorknob. The next blow created a jagged rift in the steel. The next sheared away the deadbolt, and the door was kicked open.
Smoke charged into the room with a fireman’s axe in his hands and eyes filled with the promise of retribution and death.
An ice-cold rock that had been weighing her down suddenly melted. Fear. She’d been so afraid he’d been hurt or worse, but seeing him on his feet, his strength and ferocity fully intact, pulled her out of the black hole hope had gone into.
“Smoke!” She waved her free hand and struggled to get to her feet, but every breath she took ripped at the tissues of her throat and lungs like the air was saturated with razor blades.
He arrived at her side a moment later, body vibrating with violence and searching for a target.
“He’s gone,” she shouted at him. “The sheriff is gone.”
Smoke focused on her, his gaze so hot and heavy she shivered.
She jerked at the handcuffs. “Key?”
He raised his axe. “Right here.”
She stretched the handcuff out so part of the chain laid flat against the edge of the cot.
Smoke drove the blade down on the metal and cut the links in half. As soon as she was free, he grabbed her hand, hauled her up, and headed for the door he’d destroyed.
The fire was in the way.
“No,” Kini managed to choke out. “Another way out.” She pointed at the door the sheriff had gone through.
Smoke hustled her toward that door, all but dragging her, and he only let go when he reached the door and had to open it.
The second he put his hand on the knob, he snatched it back again, shaking it like he was trying to throw off water. Or a burn.
Kini looked around, but there were only two doors and neither of them were accessible.
Smoke grabbed her hand and pulled her as far away from the fire and smoke as possible. He studied the walls and hefted the axe like he was looking for a good place to start chopping.
Who did he think he was, Paul Bunyan?
He raised the axe, but before he could take the first swing, a blast of heat, light, and metal had her ducking and covering, and Smoke throwing his body over hers.
When nothing else went flying, Smoke let her lift her head to see what happened.
The door to the wood chipper room was embedded in the far wall. There was a giant hole where the door used to be and no obvious flames, just a solid wall of smoke.
Smoke tugged her close and, holding his arm up to his face so he could breathe through his sleeve, got nearer to the hole. He darted a look at her, nodded, and pulled as he edged his way through the dense black cloud.
Kini followed him, glad he wasn’t trying to hurry, because there was no way he could see where his feet were going until he was damn near on top of the next bit of floor. Or stairs, as they came up to them, leading down, and if the change in direction of the smoke was any indication, possibly a way out.
Smoke picked up their pace, and in a few more steps they emerged into bright sunlight.
Kini fell to her knees, coughing as soon as they were clear, but Smoke didn’t let her stay there.
“More distance,” he told her, his voice scratchy. He looked around. “Out of sight.”
That got her on her feet again.
He led her toward several smaller structures—greenhouses and possibly equipment sheds—closer to the field of plants. They got into the nearest shed filled with tools and fire suppression equipment only seconds before a firetruck came around to the back of the building.
Firefighters disgorged from the vehicle and prepared to begin spraying water when the lunatic she didn’t want to see, the sheriff, showed up in a police car, jumped out, and started yelling at the firefighters to get back.
A huge boom, followed by towering flames and smoke, erupted from the building.
Another blast, then a third.
Something long and reflective punched a hole through the metal roof of the building and flew across the parking lot toward them. It tore through the wall and ceiling of the shed, raining tools, metal, and building materials over them as it plowed into the interior.
“What—” Kini began.
Smoke grabbed her with his free hand and half carried, half dragged her outside.
“Pressurized tank,” he shouted as he pushed them both into a limping run toward a large metal container sitting on the ground about fifty feet away. “There are more of them.”
All well and good to get away from things that might explode in your face and kill you, but now they were out in the open where anyone could see them.
Someone like the sheriff, who launched himself into a sprint toward them. He pointed his handgun at them, his expression a death threat.
Kini had thought she’d reached her physical and emotional limits, her emotions shut down, and not an iota of adrenaline left in her system.
Tapped out.
Done.
But the sheriff was going to shoot them, and Smoke was too focused on finding shelter to see the danger charging at them from behind.
It was do or die.
Kini ripped into the well of fear and rage she’d kept tightly locked down since the day her father had destroyed his family. Ripped into it and rode it.
She wouldn’t let the monsters take another person she loved away from her. She wouldn’t let this monster steal Smoke’s life.
Screaming, she wrenched herself away from Smoke, causing them both to stumble, ass over tea kettle. She sprang up, grabbed the axe, and hurled it with everything she was at the sheriff.
Chapter Thirty-Four
One second Smoke was running with a grip so tight on Kini’s shirt he couldn’t feel his fingers, the next she wa
s screaming and they were tumbling across the pavement with bruising force.
She shoved him out of the way, rocketed to her feet, grabbed the axe he’d dropped, and, shrieking like a banshee, threw it at something behind them.
The sheriff, who had a gun and was about to shoot them.
Fuck.
Kini launched herself toward the sheriff.
Oh fuck, no. Smoke tried to grab her, but missed.
“Kini!” he yelled.
Her throw, wild and without any thought of aim, still made the sheriff flinch and sidestep.
Smoke found himself on his feet and running. He had to get to Kini before the sheriff recovered and shot her. Nothing was more important than protecting her. Not even his own life.
One step, two, three, he’d reach her in another step.
His injured leg buckled as he reached out to snag her shirt.
His fingers brushed the fabric as he fell and missed.
The boom of the gun, once, twice, sounded louder than any sound had a right to. Two shots were all the sheriff managed to make before Kini plowed into him, shoulder first, with enough force to knock the man off his feet.
He landed hard.
Kini had fallen on her butt after her shoulder check, but tried to push herself to her feet, her gaze locked on the handgun the sheriff had dropped before he hit the ground. It had skidded several feet away.
Smoke didn’t remember getting up, didn’t remember the run, but found himself reaching the gun before Kini or the sheriff.
He turned the weapon on its owner.
Kini blocked his shot.
“Down!” he shouted at her.
An arm slid around her throat from behind. In the sheriff’s other hand was the axe.
“Drop it,” he snarled at Smoke, holding the axe blade up to Kini’s throat.
Smoke froze. Behind the sheriff most of the firefighters were focused on the blaze, but a couple, one of them the fire chief, were watching them.
The son of a bitch would kill Kini. Smoke could read it in his eyes. He considered putting the gun down, but he was also sure the sheriff wouldn’t just get into his car and leave. He’d take Kini with him.
Not going to happen.
Another police car came screaming around the side of the building, followed by a couple of sedans. They came to a stop a good distance away, and someone in a state trooper uniform opened the driver’s side door, pulled his service weapon, and aimed it at Smoke.
“Drop your weapons!” the trooper shouted.
A grin spread across the sheriff’s face.
Fuck. If he didn’t put the gun down the trooper would probably open fire on him, which wouldn’t do Kini any good.
But he’d escape a life he didn’t know how to live anymore.
For one awful moment, he gave serious consideration to shooting the sheriff, knowing he was killing himself at the same time.
Kini made a sound, a tired, pained protest as tears cleared tracks through the blood on her cheeks. “Smoke,” she whispered. So much grief, so much fear, so much worry packed into his name.
He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t hurt her. He loved her too much to add his death to her nightmares.
He loved her.
Smoke set the gun on the ground carefully then put his hands up in the air.
The sheriff glanced behind him and saw the trooper moving forward. The grin on his face got wider. “You two are a regular Bonnie and Clyde,” he said, raising his voice so he’d be heard by the trooper and the men who’d gotten out of the sedan and were approaching with weapons drawn. “But your murderous adventure is over.”
“Let her go, Sheriff,” Smoke said. “You don’t need that axe anymore.”
“Until you’re in handcuffs, boy,” the sheriff snarled, “she isn’t going anywhere.”
The trooper stopped advancing as soon as he was in a position slightly behind the sheriff and to his left. A clear shot to either Smoke or Kini if she managed to get away.
One of the men came forward with a set of handcuffs. He wore nothing but black jeans and a black T-shirt, no identifier printed on his clothing to indicate what law enforcement agency he belonged to. He did have a shoulder holster with the butt of a handgun pointed out on his left side.
“On your knees,” he ordered Smoke.
Smoke looked into the eyes of a man who looked vaguely familiar and utterly ruthless, and complied with the order.
He met Kini’s gaze and sucked in a painful breath. She was covered in a lot more blood than the last time he’d looked at her. Her face had gone ashen and her eyes glassy. Below her left hand he could see a steady fast drip of blood onto the ground.
She blinked and her gaze sharpened, focused on his face. One corner of her mouth kicked up. “You’ve got that ferocious look again,” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.
The guy in black behind him grabbed one of his wrists and pulled it behind his back.
Jesus Christ, she was in the hands of an out-of-control asshole who held an axe an eighth of an inch from her neck, and she was bleeding. “Don’t joke.”
The guy grabbed his other wrist and twisted it around and pulled it behind his back. Smoke waited for the cool metal kiss of the handcuffs, knowing he was giving up his last opportunity to kill the bastard. No contest. Any chance of getting Kini to safety was worth taking.
“Promise me you’ll laugh once in a while,” she said, her voice breaking on the last word.
“Shut up,” he growled at her. The pool of blood beneath her was getting larger fast. Her only hope was an ambulance, but the fucking sheriff had to let go of her first.
Smoke would do anything to speed this up. Where the fuck were the handcuffs?
“She’s been shot,” Smoke shouted to the whole world. “She needs immediate medical attention.”
The guy behind him pressed metal against his hand and wrist, but it wasn’t a handcuff. It was a gun.
What the flying fuck was this?
The guy behind him said gruffly, “On your feet,” then helped him stand, like Smoke was actually wearing handcuffs.
The trooper lowered his weapon a couple of feet but maintained his two-handed grip. One of the other guys from the sedan approached the sheriff and said, “Thank you, Sheriff Davis. I’ll take her.” He gave Davis a concerned expression. “You look like you need to see the paramedics, too.”
The sheriff frowned at the newcomer. “Who are you?”
“Came in with the state troopers,” the guy said with a friendly smile, reaching for Kini.
The sheriff backed up half a step, dragging Kini with him. “I’m not giving up custody of my prisoner until I know who I’m dealing with.” He glanced around quickly, his gaze going over then coming back to the trooper who’d lifted his weapon a bit higher and was pointing it more at the sheriff than Smoke.
“I’m FBI,” the guy said. “Just arrived on scene and responded to a call for backup at this location.” The guy glanced at the burning building without taking his focus off the sheriff. “Some serious shit going on here, Sheriff. We’re here to support your office in any way you need.”
The sheriff studied the FBI agent then the guy behind Smoke, suspicion a permanent resident on his face. “Who called for backup?”
“One of your deputies.”
Kini made a pain-filled sound and sagged in the sheriff’s hold.
Smoke and the man behind him made an aborted move toward them, but the sheriff caught it anyway.
“What the fuck is going on here?” he yelled at everyone as he hitched Kini higher, covering more of his body with hers. “You’re all looking at me like I’m the criminal and not this stupid bitch and her army reject boyfriend.”
“We’re concerned for the woman’s wounds,” the agent said. “She looks like she’s losing a lot of blood fast.”
“So what?”
Everyone was watching him like he was a cockroach they wanted to step on, and no amount of smooth talk from the FBI was going to
convince the asshole to let his guard down.
“She can’t face justice if she’s dead.”
“Fine,” the sheriff said, taking a couple of full steps backward. “I’ll stick her in my squad car and take her to the hospital myself.”
Kini’s eyelids fluttered and she went limp; the only thing keeping her upright was the sheriff’s arm around her throat.
He managed to keep the axe pressed to the back of her ear and neck as he dragged her a few more steps toward his car.
“Sheriff, she’s unconscious,” the FBI agent said, frustration coloring his tone. “She needs medical attention now.”
“I’m not letting you take over this investigation. She stays in my custody.” He was halfway to his car now.
The agent pulled out his weapon. “You’re not acting rational, Sheriff. Let the woman go.”
The sheriff bared his teeth. “I knew it.” He tightened his hold on Kini’s neck and turned to face the FBI agent. “Someone fed you a load of bullshit and you believed it, didn’t you?”
Smoke couldn’t let him get any farther away. He’d made Kini a promise not to kill anyone, but if she didn’t get her wounds taken care of, she was going to die of blood loss. If he did what he had to do to save her, he’d lose her just the same.
Better that than dead.
He had a shot. Better than the agent or the trooper who also had his gun trained on the sheriff.
I’m sorry, sweetheart.
Smoke yanked his arm out of the loose grip of the guy behind him, pulled the gun up, aimed, and fired.
The sheriff’s head recoiled and he went down, taking Kini with him.
Before his brain could register what happened, Smoke was running toward them. Kini lay across the sheriff’s body, fresh blood leaking out of a cut on her neck.
Not a lot of blood, the cut no deeper than any of the others she already had on the other side of her neck.
He gently, carefully scooped her up and lifted her off the sheriff’s body. He lay her down on the ground a few feet away from the dead man. Covered in blood from her neck to her knees, there was no way to tell where the bullet wounds were. He grabbed the edges of her shirt and tore it down the middle.
No, oh God, no.
There were two bullet holes in her torso, both of them bleeding.