Gunslinger

by Angi Morgan

  But he was curious. He holstered his Sig and tugged, letting the sheets slide to a pile at his boots.

  In the time that he’d been watching her, Kylie had ridden a bike to work, walked to the store or caught a ride. He’d never seen a car unless someone else was picking her up like today. So the beauty in the garage was a surprise.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “We can’t take it anywhere. It’s stolen.”

  “Can I ask why you kept it then?” He slid his hand along the stylish fin from the ’60s and immediately regretted spoiling the clean shine.

  “I didn’t want that louse to have it.” She threw up her hands. “All right. I admit it. I sort of took it to get back at him. I was so angry that he’d taken everything from me that I wanted something of his that he’d miss.”

  “This belonged to Xander Tenoreno?” The black Cadillac had a fire-engine red interior and was in mint condition. The paint job was still shiny and bright. He stroked the edge as he walked to the front of the garage.

  If Kylie hadn’t touched the car, someone had. There was a battery charger near the tire. So he could no longer assume she didn’t have a vehicle to drive. He’d bet money that this one would move pretty good.

  “Of course it did. Does.” She walked to the opposite side of the car, but leaned against the unfinished wall with her hands behind her. “I left the hospital when I knew the family was gone. I wanted my stuff. Anything really. Or maybe some cash to get out of the country. I used what little I had to bribe one of the guards to let me in. The bastard had moved everything. Even the cat. It was like I’d never existed.”

  “So you grabbed his car?”

  “One of them.”

  “This one’s pretty distinctive.”

  “I know. It was new so I figured it would be missed. I didn’t say I was thinking straight at the time. I drove until I ran out of gas.”

  “To Hico? That’s how you got here? How you chose this town to hide out?”

  “Not very strategic, right? This gas guzzler coasted to a stop right next to the Billy the Kid statue. The top was down and I put the seat back. I stared at that statue and fell asleep. Fred drove by the next morning and helped me push the car to the station.”

  “So he talked you into staying?”

  “He took me to breakfast. Denise just had a baby and Allison offered me a temporary job right there on the spot. I’m sure Fred had something to do with it. He almost always does.”

  “If the engine is in good condition, I’m surprised you haven’t tried to sell it.”

  “You heard me say it’s stolen, right? It seems so simple in my head—drive the car and I get killed. There isn’t a different version. Xander would know I’ve been living here if this car was discovered.”

  “Lots of stolen cars are illegally traded. You probably could have gotten enough money to leave town. So why did you stay?”

  Why run? He knew that the state’s attorney had offered her immunity for anything connected with illegal activity. All she had to do was give them evidence. Anything to help break up the Tenoreno family’s crime syndicate. Instead she’d stolen a car.

  “If my ex-husband didn’t already want me dead, knowing that I’ve had his precious car all this time would be another reason to hunt me down. It makes me nervous to even look at it. I haven’t glanced at it in at least two years. Fred keeps it polished.” She reached for the corner of the sheet. “And I stayed in Hico because I like it here.”

  “You most likely had it off the streets before it was reported missing. We might be able to lay out a trap using it as bait if he loved it as much as you say.” He slid his hand over the polished tailfin again. “Man, I’d love to take it for a spin.”

  “What is it with guys and cars? It’s not going anywhere.” She dragged the dusty cover over the trunk. “Taking it brought me to Hico, but driving it now will just get us killed.”

  He grabbed the opposite corner and helped hide the convertible. “We’ll take my truck to Waco. I was thinking about later. After you’re safe.”

  “There isn’t a later. Don’t you get it? I won’t be safe. Ever. If I go with you, Xander will find me. He’s probably already sent someone. Just let me go.” She draped the hood and crossed her arms, protecting herself. “You could tell everyone you didn’t pick the right road to wait at. It might be a little embarrassing, but we’d both be alive.”

  * * *

  “I CAN’T DO THAT, KYLIE.”

  She wanted to be relaxed, cool, act as if none of this conversation bothered her. It did. Thinking about Xander and the men he had working for him bothered her a lot.

  Bryce lifted his arm, waiting on her to pass through the garage entrance to her kitchen. She didn’t like the feeling of helplessness. It made her mad. There was nothing in the kitchen to help her overpower this man. Her aikido skills had paid off this morning, but he was prepared for them now. She couldn’t outrun him to the bathroom and she couldn’t lock him in the garage since he had the door behind him waiting on her.

  So she passed in front of him and stepped onto her worn linoleum. He’d already mentioned that he thought she had a gun stashed in the bathroom. If she asked to go, he was the kind of guy who would search it thoroughly beforehand. He might even find it.

  “Want a bottle of water?” she asked.

  “Been craving something cold for the past hour.” Bryce wiped the sweat from his forehead. “But water will do.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.” She went to the fridge and grabbed two bottles, tossing one across the room to him as he locked the door. It didn’t escape her that the keys to the Cadillac dropped into his pocket.

  They both stayed put in the dark and drank their bottles dry. Bryce crunched his to a fistful of plastic and set it on the table. Sixteen ounces of fluid didn’t seem to be enough for her thirst so she opened the fridge for more.

  “Kylie!”

  Bryce dived across the open section of kitchen, knocking her to the floor behind him and dragging her to the far side of the refrigerator.

  The window shattered. Milk streamed across the floor toward them. Orange juice exploded sending glass in the opposite direction.

  “You okay?” he asked, pulling her around the wall into the living room. “Thank God I saw their sighting laser.”

  He pulled his weapon but as soon as he stuck his head around the corner things in the kitchen began shattering again.

  “Call 911,” he shouted.

  “No, I won’t. These men will kill responding officers without blinking an eye.” She was crazy for thinking they could take care of this themselves. His look told her as much, but she didn’t want anyone to get hurt trying to save her. “Too many have already died.”

  He took out his cell and in a quick call told whoever answered what their situation was. “They’ve got us pinned down.” Backup was on its way. “The thickness of the refrigerator on the other side of this wall is the only thing protecting us. Don’t move until I come up with a plan.”

  Her life wasn’t worth more than anyone else’s. She had to do something. If someone got shot, how would she live with that again? The white gravel lot had been drenched in blood. She barely remembered shooting details and yet, the image was so vivid.

  Red on white. Just like Darren lying on top of her.

  As much as she hated the memories, she clung to them to remind herself. She wouldn’t forget how vicious Xander was or how he didn’t value human life. Everything was different...except that.

  Bryce had his arm across her chest. She was loosely pinned to the wall where he’d leaned just that morning for support. Something—maybe a clay pot one of the rec center kids had given her—exploded in front of them.

  A couple of choice words escaped from Bryce. “Dammit. They’ve shot a hole through the damn wall. What caliber are they using? When our backup gets here...”

  She was paralyzed in place, hearing only half of what he instructed. She caught on to the fact he wanted her t
o slide her head to the floor and lie flat.

  “Kylie? Can you hear me? Understand what I’m explaining?”

  “I can... I can do it. But why?”

  “Their next approach should be coming through the front. It’s wood and glass—easy enough to penetrate with the firepower they have.” He bobbed his head when the television screen was pierced by another bullet.

  “You’re coming, too?”

  “I might be on top of you if you’re too slow.” Bryce extended his legs and pushed her couch across the old wood floor.

  A small coffee table blocked a clean path to the door, but she could get around it. She wasn’t paralyzed any longer. “Are you sure we shouldn’t just get up and run?”

  Something glass exploded into a gazillion pieces. She covered her eyes. She didn’t want to think it, but it looked like someone had shot through the front door.

  Bryce answered his phone. “Johnson. From the southwest. No visual on the north. We’re pinned in the front room. Got it.” He stowed the phone and covered most of her body. “We’re staying put. Three police cars are en route.”

  “Call them off, Bryce. Please. They’ll be slaughtered.” She turned to her side. His arm was wrapped around her waist. She tried to scoot away, but he pulled her back to him. She shoved at his chest and he captured her hand.

  “We aren’t going anywhere and the officers are doing their jobs. They aren’t coming in blind. They can handle the shooter. We’ll be fine.” He patted her back.

  Was he shushing her? He pulled her face to his shirt when something else burst behind her. He smelled musky. The good kind after working all day. She could feel the heat from his sunburn through the soft cotton. It was comforting, even if she didn’t want to admit that it had been a long time since she’d been held by a man. Or anyone.

  But she couldn’t let herself be comfortable. She stretched her neck backward so she could look him in the eye and tell him what he could do with his “shushing.”

  Glass rained around them as the front windows shattered above their heads. Xander’s men weren’t leaving anything to chance. She waited for the bullet to pierce her skin.

  For the second time she knew her life was over.

  Chapter Six

  Shots were fired outside the house. A multitude of ear-piercing pops. Some single rounds like at the gun range. Some rapid like five years ago. Would the men who had them pinned here run? Could the cops actually scare them away?

  Lying there, waiting to be shot, Bryce had rolled her to her belly and shielded Kylie from the shards. The weight of the man on top of her should have kept her from breathing easily. He’d supported most of his weight on his arms to keep from hurting her. It took her a couple of seconds of silence to realize he wasn’t moving, but it wasn’t the weight of the dead like Darren.

  Bryce was still breathing. There was a gap between his arm and the floor where she could see parts of her living room. Or what used to be her living room—war zone was more accurate.

  A beam of light broke the semidarkness.

  She wasn’t in a hurry to be free. She needed to catch her breath and get back to the present. This wasn’t a white gravel parking lot. She hadn’t been shot. They were alive.

  “Police! Johnson? Kylie? You in here?”

  She recognized the voice. She’d stood next to Todd Harris at the Chamber of Commerce pancake breakfast last year. He’d told her all about his three kids, especially his son who had hit a rebellious period.

  That’s how and when Martin Harris had gotten involved in their teen program. He was one of the leaders now. She was proud to have helped that father and teen. And now he was putting his life in danger for her.

  “I’m okay.” She waited for Bryce to roll. He was slow but finally moved to his side.

  “Is the perimeter secure?” He groaned.

  “We’re working on it,” Todd said. “You good here? You shot? Need an ambulance?”

  “You’re bleeding?” Kylie carefully put her knees in the glass-free zone where her body had been during the attack. She watched Bryce sit, awkwardly limiting his movements.

  Todd turned his flashlight behind them drawing her attention. “What the hell did they shoot at you? A cannon?”

  The hole in her wall next to where they’d been sitting was indeed the size of a cannonball. Whatever it had been, she was glad the old refrigerator had enough thickness to protect them.

  “Sure felt like it. We’re good. I got us covered.” Bryce seemed a little out of breath as he spoke. “Can you watch the perimeter of the house? We need ten minutes.”

  “Not a problem,” Todd answered and picked his way back to the door.

  Afraid that another round of shots would happen at any minute, she kept her eyes on Todd and possible movement behind him. Of course the only light was from the porch across the street. Not much help at all.

  “Do you know who did this or think they’ll come back?” Todd asked, plainly wanting the Texas Ranger to issue the orders.

  “My guess is they didn’t want us dead,” Bryce answered out of breath. “Otherwise, they would have rushed the house. They’ll wait for a second attempt when they can grab whatever they’re really after. Might already be out of town.”

  “Well,” Todd drawled, “it won’t hurt to look.”

  Bryce sucked air through his teeth catching Kylie’s attention. She turned and caught him pulling a large piece of glass from his forearm.

  “Are you crazy?” She slapped his hand away. “Let me get a first aid kit. If they’re too deep, you’ll need a doctor.”

  He clapped a hand on her arm. “I’ll go with you.”

  They helped each other stand. He didn’t let go of her while he addressed Todd, giving him instructions on how far to set up checkpoints. She’d had no intention to get her hidden handgun, but evidently he hadn’t forgotten about it.

  Nor did he trust her to leave it there. The glass was lodged mainly in his left arm. He shook off some pieces stuck in the fine arm hair before they left the room.

  “Everything’s gone. Completely destroyed.” There really was nothing left of her cute little home. The curtains were in shreds, everything was cut in half or shattered on the floor.

  “We’re alive.”

  “For now,” she whispered.

  He sat on the toilet lid, covered in a red faux fur that she adored. She went straight to the cabinet, keeping her eyes away from the picture on the wall. Tweezers, alcohol, Band-Aids...she laid everything side by side on the short counter.

  “You’ve certainly been through the wringer today.” She took a good look under the bright light.

  “These are just scratches, but a couple do look like they need tweezers.”

  “You should be plenty sore from the sunburn and swinging that ax.” She pulled the rod that held the stopper in place. “Hold your arm over the sink.”

  Bryce did as he was told, hissing as she poured the alcohol across his skin. It had to burn, but he didn’t wave at it. She thought about blowing on his skin, but it seemed too intimate. So she poured more alcohol over the tweezers and went to work picking out the shards.

  “The Hico police turned out to be more competent than you gave them credit.” Bryce winced. “Are you surprised that we’re all still alive?”

  “What about the next time? Who’s going to get hurt then?”

  “I’m taking you to Waco and if anyone’s watching they’ll know it. Then they’ll be facing a company of Rangers.”

  “Or not.” She placed the last bandage over the deepest cut, then wrapped his forearm with gauze.

  “Why do you keep saying that? Don’t you want to get to safety?”

  “Of course I do, but I’ve tried explaining this not only to you but to everyone I spoke with five years ago. I simply don’t know anything. I don’t have anything worth trading for protection.” She backed away from the sink. Thinking over and over again that she shouldn’t look anywhere else in the bathroom. She needed to stare at Bryce and
forget about taking the gun.

  “Would you like some more aloe?” she asked, remembering the warmth of his skin. She put the kit away and grabbed a tube of cream, making the decision for him. “Take off your shirt.”

  He stood. The bathroom shrank. The result was like washing a cashmere sweater in a hot load of whites.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I need to check on our rescue team.”

  They switched places, hands their only barrier between bodies sliding next to each other. “I really need a drink.”

  “Not a bad idea.” Bryce rested his wrists on top of her shoulders. “Something stronger than water this round?”

  “I don’t think they shot the top shelf of the pantry. There’s probably still a bottle intact.” Tilting her face in his direction required as much bravery as sitting petrified while bullets were shot through her walls. “That is, if you’re serious.”

  Bryce tapped her shoulder a couple of times, made eye contact, looked away, then back again. She had a good view of his Adam’s apple jumping up and down as he swallowed hard. He was nervous. Because of her? Or was it because there was barely anything left of her house?

  “We should...um...wait for another time. As much as I’d love a shot of whatever you have, I need to get you out of here. No way to secure—you know...” He squinted as he looked down the hall.

  “Is there something you want, Bryce? I thought you were going to check on Todd.”

  “Is that his name?” He nodded his head as if agreeing with her. His lips were compressed in a straight line, but still looked inviting.

  Honestly, they could have been standing on her porch waiting to say good-night. The moment felt more like that than of ten minutes after someone had tried to kill them. Maybe she was in shock. Maybe she was just tired of fighting the inevitable.

  Or maybe in spite of the weird circumstances that had brought them together, Bryce was as attracted to her as she was to him. Maybe. If she was lucky.

  She cleared her throat and gently slid his hands from her shoulders. “Todd Harris, father of three teenagers all rooting for rival Texas colleges every Saturday afternoon. He mostly works weeknights now so his wife, Irma, could take the day shift. She’s a nurse in Stephenville.”