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When the Heart Falls

Page 17

by Kimberly Lewis


  “I said on your feet!”

  The man grabbed Dylan by his upper arm and pulled him to a standing position. Dylan staggered and blinked as the man shoved him forward and pressed the barrel of the gun to his back.

  “Now walk,” the man instructed and nudged him forward.

  Dylan looked to his hand and noticed the blood smeared on it. He touched his head once more where he had taken the hit and flinched. There was a definite gash right above his eye and it was slowly oozing blood.

  Beth could hear the boots on the porch and continued to prepare dinner. She heard the door open and the sound of the boots followed into the house.

  “Dylan, make sure you take those dirty boots off before you come any further,” she called out and turned her head in his direction.

  She dropped the spoon she was holding and gasped when she took in his appearance. His black t-shirt and blue jeans were covered in dust and dirt, and his forehead was smeared with blood along with one of his hands.

  “Oh my God. Dylan, what happened to you?” She grabbed a dish towel and ran it under the water from the kitchen faucet. She started to walk towards him and stopped when he was shoved into the room more, followed by the man with the gun.

  “Mr. Montgomery?” Beth asked, frightened and confused. Her hands had started to shake and she automatically brought them to her stomach, covering it in a protective way.

  “Beth?” Alan called from the other room. “You ok? I heard something fall.” He walked into the room and saw Beth standing with her hands over her belly with a scared look on her face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” he asked compassionately and started to rush to her side but stopped when he stepped into the kitchen. He noticed Dylan with Trent behind him and became very much aware as to what was happening.

  “Well, now isn’t this nice. The whole family is here,” Trent said in an eerily chipper tone. “Why don’t we all go have a seat and have a nice long chat?” He dug the gun into Dylan’s back again and directed him to the other room with Alan and Beth leading the way.

  Katherine stared at the doorway as they entered the room. She started to ask them just what the hell was going on and then she saw Trent following behind them. Anger filled her body and she took turns looking from Beth, to Alan, to Dylan as to ask, “Why the hell did you let him in our home?”

  “Just what do you think you’re doing here?” she threw her question to Trent. “I thought I made it very clear to you that I’m not selling my ranch and told you never to come back. So you just take your sorry ass and get the hell out of here!” She placed her hands on the arms of the chair and started push herself up but stopped when Trent shoved Dylan forward and then pointed the gun at her.

  “Stay right there,” Trent said.

  Her eyes widened and she took in a ragged breath. “Trent, what the hell are you doing?” Her voice came out shaky and unsure.

  “You three, sit down over there,” he instructed to Beth, Alan and Dylan, waving the barrel of the gun in the direction of the sofa.

  Alan placed a protective arm around Beth and helped ease her onto the sofa. “Are you ok?” he asked concerned.

  “No talking!” Trent yelled.

  “I’m just asking her if she’s ok. Can’t you see she’s pregnant?” Alan explained.

  “I said no talking!” Trent closed the distance between them with a few steps and whipped the barrel of the gun across Alan’s face.

  Beth screamed and grabbed for Alan as he fell onto her lap. He rose to a sitting position and touched his face to the red swollen cut that now appeared on his cheekbone.

  “Now sit there and be quiet,” Trent said in a menacing tone.

  Beth stroked Alan’s face as the silent tears fell down her cheeks and Alan gave her an apologetic look with his eyes.

  Dylan watched Trent as he paced back and forth from the kitchen doorway to the living room window that stared out to the front yard. He appeared to be looking for something or someone, and the impatience was evident on his face. Dylan glanced around the rest of the room checking on his family members. Katherine still sat in the recliner and appeared to be in shock. Her eyes were glassy and the expression on her face was one of anger and fright. He could tell she was trying to concoct a plan to get them all out of this, but she was too scared and weak to go through with it. He himself had wracked his brain trying to think of some way to overtake Trent and somehow get them all to safety. He wasn’t sure exactly what Trent’s plan was, but situations with a gun wielding lunatic never ended well.

  A set of headlights pulled into the dark driveway and casted an arch across the living room wall. The vehicle pulled slowly up the dirt lane and drove out of view.

  Trent craned his neck looking out the window and mumbled, “It’s about damn time.”

  Dylan shifted restlessly and Trent turned quickly to face him. “Don’t be trying anything stupid, boy.” Trent shifted his menacing gaze from Dylan when he heard the footsteps on the porch.

  Dylan knew that now was his chance. If he was ever going to get that gun out of Trent’s hand he had to do it when he was good and distracted. The backdoor opened and Dylan braced himself to lunge.

  “Just where the hell have you been?” Trent scolded as Hank strutted into the room.

  “We had a little complication,” Hank explained and looked behind him.

  Dylan could feel the adrenaline running through his veins like liquid fire. He gripped the arm of the sofa and was about to push himself up when all of a sudden he felt his limbs go numb. His heart felt like it had dropped to the pit of his stomach and shattered into a million pieces, leaving his chest a hollow shell.

  Misty came stumbling into the room with Vance gripping the back of her head by her hair. She let out a cry of pain as he yanked her hair back, pulling her to a stop.

  “What the hell is all this about?” Trent yelled, directing his question to Vance.

  “She saw us moving the cattle,” Vance said and tugged at her hair.

  She closed her eyes and let out another cry. When she opened her eyes again, she locked them with Dylan’s. The color had drained from his face and his eyes were filled with pain. She wondered for a moment if this is how it would all end. Her life was finally heading in the direction that made her happy, and now it seemed like all of that was just going to be a beautiful memory.

  Dylan breathed deeply and slowly, trying to calm the unsettling feeling in his stomach. So many things were happening in such a short amount of time. And he was having trouble wrapping his head around all of the thoughts that swam through his mind. So Vance was involved in all of this? But how did he play into it?

  “Well, we can’t let her go now. Put her over there with the others!” Trent ordered.

  Vance yanked Misty by the hair and dragged her over to the arm chair and threw her down into it. She lifted her face to look at him and shot him an evil glare. “Why are you doing this?” she cried.

  Vance gave her an eerie grin. “I think I’ll let my father do the explaining.”

  “Father?” Dylan questioned out loud. “So you mean to tell me you’re related?”

  “Keep your mouth shut and don’t say another word,” Trent scolded Vance.

  Vance lost the grin and replaced it with an angry expression. He was already pissed off at Misty catching them rustling her father’s cattle. And now, his father had made him look like a fool in front of their hostages. He had had about enough of his father’s attitude for one day. He gritted his teeth and flexed his jaw, then moved to stand against the wall. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and proceeded to pull one out and light it.

  “You set the barn on fire,” Dylan confirmed and looked at Vance with a shocked expression.

  Trent had stopped his quiet conversation with Hank and turned to look at Dylan and Vance.

  “So what,” Vance said, blowing out a cloud of smoke and shrugged.

  “I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut!” Trent yelled and came nose to nose with Vance
. “Are you too stupid to realize that when I tell you to do something I expect you to do it?”

  “What the hell, Pop?” Vance yelled and shoved Trent backwards. “It’s not like they’re going to be around to tell anyone that it was us anyway.”

  “I don’t care! I told you to shut up!” Trent said, poking a finger into Vance’s chest.

  “So that’s your plan then? You’re going to kill us?” Dylan asked trying to buy them some time. “Why? Is owning a piece of land that important to you? You all have practically run our ranch down to the ground. It’s going to cost you a ton of money to get it back and running like it’s supposed to.”

  Trent spun around to face Dylan and laughed maliciously. “I’m not doing all of this to keep your ranch, you fool. There’s oil running through these parts and I want it. I plan on tearing all of this down and creating my oil empire. I’ll be the richest man in the whole state.” Trent gave Dylan an eerie smirk. “And to think, you all were sitting on a gold mine and you didn’t even know.”

  Dylan kept his cool and calm composure while he continued to try to keep Trent distracted; until he could figure out a way to get them all out of this. “Don’t you think that the police will figure all of this out? You can’t just kill a room full of people and expect to get away with it scot-free.”

  “That’s the beauty of the plan,” Trent explained quietly. “I’m not going to get pinned for the murders. You are.”

  “What? And how do you plan to pull that one off?” Dylan asked.

  “Simple, really. You’ve been through a lot of stressful things here lately. The death of your father, your near death car accident, the barn fire. Seems like all of this was just a little too stressful and you cracked. You murdered your whole family and girlfriend in a fit of blinding rage before turning the gun on yourself and taking your own life. Believable enough story. They’ll never suspect that we had anything to do with it,” Trent explained, checking the bullets in the gun.

  “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. No one will believe it. They’ll figure out it was you,” Dylan protested.

  “They didn’t figure it out when we took care of your old man,” Hank chimed in from the hallway.

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits and he tasted blood. He hadn’t realized it at the time but he was biting the inside of his lip to keep from losing his cool. It hadn’t worked though.

  “You son of a bitch!” Dylan yelled and jumped off the sofa.

  He ran towards Hank but was brought up short when Vance pushed himself from the wall and grabbed Dylan from behind, holding him around the shoulders. Trent delivered a hard blow to Dylan’s stomach and he crumpled to the ground, letting out a huff of air in the process. Trent walked around to Dylan’s back and brought his foot around to kick him directly in the ribs. Dylan groaned and coughed as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Stop it! Stop!” Misty cried and pushed herself up from the chair. Vance grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back down. “Get off of me!” She slapped at his hand and kicked him in the shin.

  “Ouch! You stupid bitch!” He brought his hand around and back handed her across the face. He grabbed her face with his right hand, pinching her cheeks in and squishing her lips outward. “I should have made sure you were dead when your car flipped,” he whispered two inches away from her face.

  Her eyes widened at his revelation and she glanced down to see Dylan being hauled up onto his feet. A tear slipped down her cheek and she let out a soft whimper. Instinctively, her body start to shake from the mix of adrenaline and fear that pulsed through her veins.

  “Vance will you stop making out with the hostages and get your ass over here so we can get this done?” Trent called out.

  Vance scrunched his eyes shut, took in a deep breath and held it for a moment. He let it out in one loud short huff and released his grip from Misty’s face. He stood up and removed the gun from the back waistline of his pants and cocked it.

  “Nobody makes a fool of me and gets away with it.” He aimed the gun and pulled the trigger, filling the room with the deafening echo of a bullet slicing through the air.

  CHAPTER 21

  Misty drew her knees up to her chest, covered her ears and closed her eyes as she let out an ear piercing scream, followed by Beth’s and Katherine’s. Misty opened her eyes and watched as Dylan stumbled and worked to remove Trent’s hold of his shirt as Trent fell to the ground. Dylan took three steps back and stared at the lifeless body before him.

  “Vance, what the hell are you doing? This ain’t part of the plan!” Hank yelled out as he crossed the floor to where the body of his father laid.

  Vance cocked the gun and pulled the trigger once more. Hank let out a yelp and a huff of air before crumpling to the ground next to his father. The women screamed again and Dylan took another look at the ground. And for the first time Dylan noticed that Trent’s gun had slid in his direction and was about two feet away from him. Dylan watched Vance carefully and slowly started to bend down to reach for the gun. Vance, seeing the movement from the corner of his eye, quickly turned the gun around to Dylan.

  “Don’t try anything stupid,” Vance warned.

  Dylan slowly stood back up and lifted his hands in defeat. Before Dylan had time to stop him, Alan lurched himself off of the sofa and attempted to tackle Vance. Vance turned on him and pulled the trigger once more; delivering a shot to Alan’s left shoulder.

  He yelled as the bullet pierced his skin and Beth came off of the sofa to his side. She cradled him in her arms and placed her hand firmly over the open wound. “Oh my God, Alan!”

  “I said don’t try anything stupid!” Vance yelled, waving the gun towards Alan.

  The color had started to drain from Alan’s face and he took in short gasps of air.

  Vance lifted his empty hand to his face and dragged his fingers down the side of it, looking as though he was trying to claw the skin from the bone.

  “So what’s the plan now?” Dylan asked Vance. “Murdering your father and brother certainly puts a damper on your original idea.” He had moved from where he was standing a few moments ago to stand behind the half wall that stood next to the doorway, keeping the lower half of his body and hands hidden from plain sight.

  Vance turned at the sound of Dylan’s voice and eyed him suspiciously. “This will all play out, don’t you worry. The original story will still work. However now instead of it being a mass murder with no survivors, there will be one: Me.”

  Dylan looked at him, confused. “I’m not following you.”

  “My father, brother and I had come over to seal the deal with your mother signing over the ranch. And you, in your fit of rage, opened fire on everyone taking your own life as well. However, you’ll miss killing me and I will be the lone survivor and live to tell this elaborate story.” Vance twirled his gun and smirked.

  Dylan looked to each one of his family members and stopped when he met Misty’s red and swollen eyes. A million thoughts ran through his mind at that second. So many things he wanted to tell her, and from the way things were going he wasn’t sure if he would ever get the chance. He longed to be next to her in these last final moments. Hold her one last time. Tell her he loved her and that he was sorry she got mixed up in all of this.

  From a distance, police sirens sounded and Vance ran to the window. Five police cars were speeding up the lane with their lights on.

  “Shit!” Vance cursed under his breath. He saw Dylan shift from the corner of his eye and spun around to face him, holding his gun out in front of him ready to shoot. The cruisers sped up to the house and slid to a stop, surrounding it.

  Dylan mouthed the words “I love you” to Misty before turning his eyes to Vance.

  It all seemed to happen in slow motion. One second he was looking into her eyes, mouthing the words “I love you” and the next he was staring down the barrel of Vance’s gun. She watched in horror as Dylan stepped out from behind the half wall barricade and whipped Trent’s pistol he h
ad been hiding out in front of him. Both men pulled the trigger simultaneously. The sound echoed in her ears and she sat there, wide eyed staring as both men fell to the floor. She couldn’t move. Her body screamed to be in action. To run to Dylan’s side, but her mind had completely shut down. She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs refused to take in the air they needed and her chest started to burn.

  The room was all of a sudden alive with action. Katherine fell to Dylan’s side, talking to him and running her hands over his body looking for a wound. Beth had reluctantly left Alan’s side and ran to open the door to instruct the officers inside. All of this bustling about, and Misty couldn’t hear a thing. She could see Katherine looking in her direction, waving her over and calling out something to her, but all she could hear was just a muffled ringing sound. Her eyes stung with the tears that quickly filled them and she began to take in ragged breaths.

  The police came bounding through the door and started to assess the scene. One stopped and crouched next to Katherine, and Misty watched as he leaned his head towards the walkie talkie on his shoulder and gave the dispatcher on the other end a code. Just then Misty saw Dylan’s legs shift and the officer pull him into a sitting position. He was alive. The blood returned to her limbs and she was out of the chair and by his side in a few seconds.

  “Dylan!” she cried and wrapped her arms around him. She moved her hands to his face and feverishly pressed her lips to his. He brought one of his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter to his chest.

  “Ma’am, please, we have to take care of his wounds,” the officer instructed as he attempted to separate them.

  She loosened her grip and stared into his eyes. “I thought I had lost you,” she cried and stroked his face ignoring the officer.

  “You’ll never lose me, Misty.” He pressed his lips to hers once more. “I’m here to stay.”

  An ambulance sped up the driveway, followed by another. The paramedics were in the room almost as soon as the vehicle had stopped. They helped Dylan up and led him to the back of the truck so they could clean his wounds. Alan was led away on a stretcher with Beth holding his hand. The paramedics had promised her that he would be fine, that the bullet had gone straight through and hadn’t seemed to do much damage. The room seemed overly full of police officers and crime scene investigators taking pictures and searching for evidence.

 

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