He held the Glock ready in front of him. Picking his way around trees and through brambles, he raced as quickly and quietly as he could. His breath chugged from his lungs like a steam engine.
A flash of color cut through the green cloak of leaves. A deep burgundy.
Risa’s blouse.
Heart pounding high in his chest, Trent crept closer.
Dryden stood behind her, one hand on her throat. One hand holding the knife to her chest. Her blouse hung open, revealing tatters of a black lace bra. Blood oozed from a wound on her chest. The son of a bitch had cut her.
But she was alive.
Trent trained the Glock on Dryden’s head and fingered the trigger. From this angle, Trent couldn’t get a clear shot. He needed a better angle. He lowered the gun and stepped silently to one side.
Dryden raised the knife, pressing the blade against Rees’s throat. Glancing up, he looked across the space and straight into Trent’s eyes. “Well, if it isn’t the FBI.”
Trent’s heart seized. He lifted the gun. “Let her go.”
Rees’s eyes found his.
Dryden stared as if he hadn’t heard a word. Pupils dilated. “The throat is delicate. One slice of a sharp blade, and a person can bleed to death.”
“Let her go, and put down the knife.”
Dryden shook his head slowly. “You put down that gun.”
“Shoot him, Trent. Do it,” Risa said.
Trent judged the angle. With Dryden holding Rees in front of him like a shield, Trent couldn’t be sure his shot would hit the mark. He also couldn’t be sure the knife against Rees’s throat wouldn’t do its job. Whether he hit Dryden with a bullet or not.
“Now,” Dryden said.
“Shoot.”
Giving up his weapon was a mistake. He would be powerless. Dryden would be in control. A federal agent should never surrender his weapon.
But Rees…
Trent lowered the gun.
“Do you know how easy it is to field dress a deer? I could do it with my eyes closed.”
Trent hesitated. Without his gun, he would be powerless to stop Dryden. He was too far away to rush him. By the time he got his hands around the killer’s neck, Rees would be dead.
Trent listened for the sound of sirens, the hum of cars pulling up the long, twisting driveway. Nothing reached his ears but the steady rhythm of rain hitting leaves.
“First step is slicing through the windpipe and esophagus. Right about here.” Dryden pressed the knife’s edge against the tender skin of Rees’s throat. A thin line of red coated the length of the blade.
Rees drew in a sharp breath, but she didn’t move a muscle.
“One slash, if your knife is sharp enough. Then when you dump the intestines, you can pull the whole thing through. Real slick.”
“Stop.” Trent held his hands in front of him, the Glock dangling by one finger.
“Don’t do it, Trent. Shoot him. Please.”
“Waiting for the demonstration?” Dryden said. “I’m the best. I’m sure you can learn something.”
Trent tossed the gun. It landed with a thunk in a thicket of wild raspberry.
A smile curled Dryden’s lips. “That’s better. You know, it’s not nice of you to interrupt me, Burnell. I’ve been waiting to hunt this one for a long time.”
Trent’s gut clenched. This one. Not Risa. Not a fellow human being. But game to be hunted. A female to avenge himself against. To degrade. To defile. “More agents are on the way, Dryden. Along with nearly the entire sheriff’s department. You let her go, maybe you can make a run for it.”
Dryden cocked his head to the side. “Now why would I do that? She’s the reason I escaped. I’m not leaving her behind. Well, not alive, anyway.”
“You’ll never make it out of here.”
Dryden looked away from Trent as if dismissing him and stared down at Risa.
One slice of the blade and she would be dead. Trent had to keep Dryden’s attention until backup arrived. He took a step toward Dryden.
“Stop right there, Burnell.”
Trent kept his gaze riveted to Dryden’s face, resisting the temptation to meet Risa’s eyes. Once he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull his focus away, and he needed to stay riveted on Dryden.
Dryden loved to show how clever he was, how superior. A tendency Trent might be able to use to his advantage until backup arrived.
Where the hell were those sirens?
“There aren’t too many who have fooled me in my career, Dryden. But you did. How?”
“Why? Are you writing a book, too?”
“You let Nikki make that call.”
“You don’t think I’d be careless enough to leave a phone sitting around, do you?”
“And you knew who she would call.”
“Big sis, of course. Nikki would never have the guts to turn herself in. Not after helping me kill. You didn’t know your little sister was a killer, did you big sis?” He glanced down at Rees, his face inches from hers. Darting his tongue between thin lips, he ran the tip from her chin to her hairline.
Risa recoiled.
For a moment, Trent balled his hands into fists, then he made his fingers relax. He couldn’t let Dryden see that he’d gotten under his skin. He had to play it cool until backup arrived. He had to keep the conversation going. “But you couldn’t have known what would happen after that.”
“I knew exactly what would happen. You would shut her away somewhere you thought she’d be safe. And then you and your legions in blue would rush in to save the day.”
Trent flinched inwardly. He’d indeed shuttled Rees off to the police station because he thought she’d be safer there. Safer away from the action, away from flying bullets, away from him. He’d thought he was protecting her, and here he’d put her in danger. He’d played right into Dryden’s hands.
Dryden had profiled him.
“You really are predictable, Burnell. All that was left for me to do was kill the few cops at the station and collect my prize.”
Like hell. Trent tensed, ready to spring.
Sirens carried on the still air, their screams faint in the distance.
Dryden jerked his head in the sound’s direction.
Rees’s elbow shot back, slamming into Dryden’s ribs.
The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. He folded in the middle, protecting his ribs from another blow.
She lurched away from him, sprawling to the forest’s floor. Out of Dryden’s grip. Away from his blade. Out of Trent’s line of fire.
His gun.
Trent lunged forward, falling to his knees in the clump of raspberry. He clawed through the bushes. Thorns tore into his flesh.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rees scramble to her feet just as Dryden grabbed for her. His hand closed around her arm.
Abandoning the gun, Trent bolted for them. He slammed into Dryden full speed, knocking the killer to the ground, landing on top of him.
“Run, Rees!”
Trent slammed a fist into Dryden’s face, the force shuddering up his arm. He punched a second time. It wasn’t until he drew back his arm to hit him a third that Trent felt cold slice into his side, just below the rib cage.
Dryden pulled the blade back and thrust it at him again.
Trent caught Dryden’s arm, pulling it back, holding it down. He slammed the killer’s arm against the ground, once, twice, trying to jar the weapon free.
Dryden’s free hand found his face. Fingers clawed and jabbed his eyes.
Trent turned his head, trying to protect himself. Trying to see. Dryden’s knife hand slipped in his grip.
Trent dug his fingers into the killer’s wrist. Even in the heat of battle, he could feel the sticky wetness soaking his shirt, draining his strength. He had to hold on. He couldn’t let Dryden work his knife arm free. He couldn’t—
A thud sounded near his ear.
Dryden’s head whipped to the side. Trent saw a flash of movement as Rees’s foot drew
back again. Careening forward, her boot landed with another thud against Dryden’s temple. Then another. A scream built and burst from her, echoing through the trees, and she kicked and kicked until Dryden dropped the knife, and his clawing fingers stilled.
Sirens screamed in the distance, winding their way toward the Lilac Inn.
Rees fell to her knees beside him. “I couldn’t find the gun. I couldn’t—”
A smile crept over his face despite the pain in his side. “Nice kick.”
“I… I wanted to kill him. I just couldn’t stop.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Is he dead?”
Trent reached for Dryden’s throat, intending to check for a pulse. The pain in his side stopped him.
“You’re hurt.”
Trent looked down at his blood soaked shirt. Knife wound. Could be bad. “Nikki is all right, Rees. She’s safe.”
Tears blossomed in Risa’s eyes.
He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was over. All over. But first he had to make sure Dryden wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again.
Setting his teeth against the pain, Trent checked Dryden’s pockets and retrieved a key. “Cuffs?”
Risa stretched her bound hands toward him. He unlocked the handcuffs and handed them to her. “You’d better do this.”
She rolled Dryden face down and clicked the bracelets on his wrists.
The sirens were growing louder now, winding their way up the long driveway.
Hands now free, Risa quickly unbuttoned Trent’s shirt and pulled it off him. Wadding it into a ball, she held it against the wound in his side and pressed down hard. “Lean back.”
Trent did as ordered. Fate had given him another chance. At life. At love. At happiness. And he needed all the strength he could muster to grab it and hold on with both hands.
He had only to find the right words. His gaze dropped from her face and landed on the long cut between her breasts marring her perfect skin. His gut clenched, sending pain shooting up his side. “He cut you, too.”
He struggled to sit up.
She pushed him back down. “It hurts like hell, but it’s shallow. Really.”
Dizziness hovered on the edge of Trent’s mind. “I have to say something… before I pass out.”
“Trent, maybe you should—”
“Please.”
She nodded.
“You were right, Rees. About all of it.”
Worry creased her forehead and clouded her eyes.
He needed to explain. To make her understand. He needed to let her know she could believe this time.
That he believed.
He found her hands at his side and covered them with his own. “These past two years I’ve been letting him beat me. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.”
Cars screeched to a stop in the distance. Shouted orders bounced off the trees.
Tears welled in Risa’s eyes and spiked her lashes. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Wait. Hear me out. I want to make you understand.”
“I do understand.”
“Then I want to say it, make it real.”
A smile fluttered over her lips. She nodded.
“I was letting Dryden win.” His voice hitched. He forced himself to continue. “But no more. No more. I’m going to fight. I’m going to be better. Open. Trusting. Happy. And I can only do that with you beside me.”
Footfalls echoed through the woods. Dark figures fought through the brambles toward them.
“I never stopped… you know. Loving you. You make me a better man. That damned light of hope...”
Tears ran down her cheeks in little streams, mixing with the rain. Tears that washed away his sins and made him whole.
“I love you, Trent. I always will.”
Darkness closed in, narrowing his vision to include only Risa. “You make me stronger, Rees. Stronger than I could ever be alone.”
“Stronger together,” she said.
He felt the corners of his mouth tilt upward in a smile.
Nikki
A little while later…
Nikki always assumed jail would be a horrible place. Caged like an animal. Strange women bullying. Deputies watching your every move.
She couldn’t have been more wrong.
The pod where she slept reminded her more of a dorm than a cage. Bunk beds lined one wall. Tables with attached benches filled the rest of the room. Televisions spotted the walls. Books brought from the library for borrowing. Card games. Crafts.
Of course, deputies were watching, and some of the women were assholes. But all-in-all, Nikki was just grateful to be away from Eddie. Grateful to have food and a bed. Grateful to feel somewhat safe.
She couldn’t stop the dreams. One minute Eddie would be killing Risa, the next making love to her in front of Nikki. He’d tell Nikki how much he loved her, then a moment later, he’d strip her in the middle of a busy street and hold a knife to her throat.
Nikki would wake up in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming, sometimes missing him so bad it hurt.
The only thing that cleared her mind was a visit from Risa. Every day, Nikki’s big sister was waiting in one of the tiny visiting rooms. Every day, she let Nikki talk through her dreams and focus herself back on reality. Every day she let Nikki know she cared.
Nikki talked to a few psychiatrists, and the court appointed a lawyer; a woman who didn’t seem that much older than her named Tamara Wade. She and Nikki went to court hearings and sat through what seemed like endless meetings. And one day, when Risa waited on the other side of the glass in the visiting room, Nikki finally had some good news to share.
“We met with the district attorney.” No, that wasn’t right. It was important that Nikki report this right. “Assistant District Attorney, I think.”
Risa leaned forward, one hand pressing the visiting room phone to her ear, the other bracing herself on the stainless steel countertop. “And?”
“He was nice, I guess. Reminded me of a cowboy. His name was Dillon.”
“What did he say?”
Nikki smiled. She hadn’t done much of that lately, but it felt good. “I shouldn’t tease you, should I?”
“So it’s something good then?”
“Yeah. Tamara says it’s really good.”
“You’re going to be released?”
Nikki felt her smile droop. “No.”
“What is it, Nikki? Don’t make me guess.”
“I have to stay in jail.”
“Yes…”
“But as long as I keep talking to a psychiatrist, I won’t be a felony.”
“A felon, you mean? They aren’t going to charge you with a felony?”
“That’s good, right?”
Risa beamed. “That’s really good, Nik.”
Nikki was glad. For a while there, she was worried that she’d misunderstood. She should have paid more attention in school. Hell, she should have actually gone to school instead of skipping. “But I have to stay here in jail.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Okay. Tamara said I can get my G.E.D.”
“That would be terrific, Nikki. Does Tamara know how long you’ll be here?”
Nikki shook her head. “But she said it won’t be longer than a year. At least that’s what she thinks. She has to ask a judge or something.”
A slow smile spread over Risa’s lips, and Nikki thought she saw something that looked like a twinkle in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“What’s what?”
“You have some news to tell me, too?”
“Actually, I have something to ask.”
“Something to ask me?”
“Yes.”
Nikki waited for her sister to say what it was, but she just sat there smiling and tapping her hand on the stainless steel, like she thought Nikki might catch on.
Nikki didn’t catch on. “What is it?”
“I was wondering if you would be my maid of honor.�
�
It took Nikki a moment to remember what it was a maid of honor did. She looked down at Risa’s tapping hand, and the diamond ring that rapped against the counter. “You and Trent again?”
“Yes.”
“Risa, that’s wonderful.” A mix of emotion bombarded Nikki, making it hard to tell whether the tears in her eyes were from happiness or envy. Nikki thought about her wedding. The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. But the setting, the witnesses, and the groom were something she wanted to forget.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t ask you to be my maid-of-honor,” Nikki whispered into the receiver.
“Oh, honey… You’ll get married again someday. To a great guy. I have no doubt.”
Nikki nodded, but she never saw herself marrying again. She would rather die. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy for her sister. She just had to work at it a little. “So Trent is doing well?”
“He is. Of course, he probably wouldn’t tell me if he wasn’t, but he’s getting around more every day.”
“Did he get down on one knee and all that?”
“Yes. I had to help him up, but…”
“Tell me about it… the wedding…”
“Well, I figured we’d plan it for a little over a year from now. Maybe August. That way we might be able to book this old B&B on Chesapeake Bay. We can get married overlooking the water.”
Risa continued, telling Nikki about her plans, just like they were real sisters. It was a nice dream, that Nikki could get out of this place and go on to live a normal life, stand up in a wedding, maybe even get married herself, but Nikki didn’t believe for one moment that the fantasy could be real.
When their time was finally up, and Nikki went back to the pod, all she could think about was the next time she could have a cigarette. She would work hard. She would rebuild her life. But it wasn’t going to be the kind of life she’d dreamed about before or the kind of life Risa was hoping for her now. Romance and marriage, working to get her mother’s notice, her daddy’s approval, her sister’s loyalty. Her husband’s love.
That Nikki was gone.
And as far as she was concerned, good riddance.
Risa
A year later…
“Risa and Trent,” the pastor said. Dressed in white robes, he looked down at them and smiled. “If it is your intention to share with each other your joys and sorrows and all that the years will bring, then with your promises bind yourselves to each other as husband and wife.”
Lethal (Small Town Secrets Book 1) Page 20