Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4)

by Irish Winters

  “You know better.”

  The two men stared each other down. Emmet lowered the gun and stepped into the barrel of Roy’s, his chest pressed hard against the end of the weapon and his other hand in his pocket.

  “Put one in me,” he pleaded. “If you were ever my friend, Roy. Put one in me.”

  Roy stared into the soul of his buddy, his pistol still tight against Emmet’s chest.

  “Give me some peace. Please. Kill me so the pain will finally let me be.”

  “I won’t do that,” Roy replied sadly.

  In that instant of heartfelt compassion, Emmet lunged around him. Now he stood between his front door and Roy.

  “Don’t do this.” Roy reached for his friend, but Emmet used Roy’s outstretched arm as leverage, and shoved him backward onto the walk. Roy stumbled off balance and fell. Emmet withdrew a detonator from his pocket.

  “I’m done with killing.” Tears trickled down his face. “I’m done with everything. I wanna see Ben again. I want Lois to ask me how my day was and if I want gravy on my hash and beans. I just wanna go home.” He took a step back. “Save yourself, Roy. I’m going. Now.”

  Roy rolled facedown to the ground, raising his arms to shield his face as the explosion roared over him and sucked the breath from his lungs. A roaring cloud of orange flames belched from Emmet’s home, surrounding him with fire and brimstone. He never flinched, just stood there sad and empty. Roy let the darkness of the bleak night envelope him.

  Emmet Grant was finally home.

  Twenty-Three

  “Move,” Kelsey ordered, the revolver in Ethel’s back.

  The old woman grunted to her knees, and whined all the way to her feet. “You’re hurting me, Kelsey.”

  “Meant to.” She noticed how all of a sudden Ethel used her real name instead of anything derogatory. The witch. Always working an angle.

  “You wouldn’t hurt an old woman, would you?”

  “Damn right I would. Get your hands on top of your head. Now walk. When we get to Raymond, kneel. Make one wrong move and I’ll shoot you like you did Jeff and Newton.”

  Ethel wiped her bloody hands on her baggy pants. “Whatever you say.”

  Kelsey hated to put her so close to Raymond, but she had to keep them both within view. “Give me a reason. Just one.”

  “I’ve got cuffs at home,” Newton muttered weakly from beyond the headlights’ glare. “Didn’t think I’d need them on a rescue.”

  “And you don’t carry a gun when you’re out on S&Rs?” Kelsey could barely make out his face where he lay.

  “No, ma’am. Never have. Never will. I don’t believe in killing.”

  She bit back her opinion on that stupid belief. Did he believe in being murdered instead of defending himself? “How bad are you hurt?”

  “She got my thigh. Bone’s broke. Bleeding pretty bad.”

  “Who is she?” Jeff asked, his voice tight with pain.

  “Ethel Durrant.”

  “How do you know her?”

  “Married her son.” The reality of her situation overwhelmed her. Three injured men and a deranged prisoner? Alex better hurry it up and get there.

  “I can’t kneel without using my hands to get on the ground,” Ethel complained. “I’m just an old woman. You don’t want me to fall, do ya?”

  “Then do it.” Kelsey’s eyes flitted from Raymond to Ethel. He sounded just as bad as Jeff, not breathing as much as wheezing. All the drama he’d just witnessed didn’t help. Another shooting wouldn’t either.

  The second Ethel crouched to her knees she reached for him. “My poor boy. What’s she done—?”

  “Don’t you dare touch him,” Kelsey ordered. She wished she’d thought of it sooner, but the last of the pillowcase might be enough to restrain Ethel.

  “Kelsey,” Raymond rasped.

  “Shhhhh,” she soothed, working the strips of cloth out of the backpack with one hand, while keeping the revolver on Ethel with the other. “Breathe easy. Help is almost here.”

  “Ain’t none coming,” Ethel crowed, her hands to the top of her head again and her lying tongue hard at work. “She’s gonna kill you dead, Ray—”

  Kelsey dug the gun into Ethel’s back. “One more word and we’re going for a walk. I’ll show you dead.”

  Ethel sniffed. “Whatever you say, Kelsey Durrant.”

  “Kelsey Stewart!” Why did she ever think she should let this vicious woman live?

  “Is you gonna kill her?” Raymond asked, his voice trembling.

  Kelsey bit her lip, hating her name on Ethel’s tongue, but needing to respond to the poor man. “No, Raymond. Decent people do not kill. It’s up to the law and the Lord what happens next. Not me.”

  She crouched, needing both of her hands to properly secure her prisoner. This would be tricky. “Put your hands behind your back where I can see them.”

  Newton clawed one hand into the dirt, struggling to drag himself toward her. “I can help.”

  “No. Stay put. You’re hurt.”

  “At least let me hold the gun on her.” He rolled onto his side. “’Sides, you’re the only one left. Us guys need you to stay alive. Let me help.”

  Kelsey was tempted. Any help would be better than none, but from a pacifist? Did he even know how to hold a gun much less shoot one? She hesitated. Not too long ago she’d been just like him.

  She took the chance, keeping Ethel covered with the gun as she hurried to his side. The second he accepted the revolver she raced back to bind Ethel’s wrists. With every loop, Kelsey breathed easier. Alex would be on the ground soon. He’d know what to do.

  “Not so tight, girl,” Ethel complained as Kelsey tied another knot for good measure. No way could she get away now. Alex would be proud. The ordeal was over. Almost.

  Raymond groaned. She bolted away from Ethel, but instead of going straight to him, she went to Newton first. He was shaking so hard she feared the gun might accidentally go off. Taking it gently and resting it on the ground beside him, she asked, “Do you have a first-aid kit in your ATV?”

  “I do. Not sure it’s gonna have what you need though.”

  She ran to the ATV and hauled the heavy backpack to where Newton lay.

  Raymond complained, “I is... a scared.”

  “I know. I’ll be right there.” She was plenty scared herself. Her fingers were shaking so hard, she could barely open the neatly organized kit. The plastic container marked ‘Severe Bleeding’ offered gloves, scissors, maxi-pads and rolls of self-adhering wrap. Hurriedly, she wrapped Newton’s leg with one pad and a couple layers of the wrap. After making sure she hadn’t completely cut off his circulation, she asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

  He offered a crooked smile. “Who do you think you are, Wonder Woman? Go. Take care of your Jeff or your boy. I’m feeling better already.”

  Kelsey choked at that very kind description of Raymond, but he wasn’t the one bleeding. Jeff needed help first. She secured the gun and hauled her meager supplies to where he lay with his eyes closed and both hands splayed over his abdomen.

  “Jeff.” She lifted his hands to hold several pads in place. They soaked wet and dark with blood the moment they met the hole in his abdomen. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he murmured faintly.

  She brushed her fingers over his brow. He had curly gray hair, something she hadn’t noticed until now. A wedding band glistened on his bloody fingers. “Do you have children? A wife?”

  “And grandchildren,” he whispered.

  “Think of them. Make up your mind you are going to live for them.” Kelsey quelled the panic rising in her voice. “Don’t let this witch win, Jeff. Please hang on. Do it for—”

  “Watch out!” Newton yelled.

  Kelsey looked up to see Ethel coming at her with a demented scream. She ran over Raymond, her boots on his chest and a switchknife suddenly in her hand. Raising one arm to shield her face, Kelsey fell backward to keep Ethel away from poor Jeff.


  Just that fast Ethel was on her. She stabbed out with the long thin blade, but Kelsey was quicker. Cocking her knee to intercept Ethel’s full weight, she grabbed the old woman’s wrist and forced it away from her face. The long thin razor’s stokes still dipped too close.

  Newton muttered something, but Kelsey was too busy fighting for her life to decipher his meaning. Ethel clutched Kelsey’s neck in a chokehold with her other hand. Her fingernails dug into Kelsey’s neck. She struggled for air, but focused on the blade. The tip of it flicked dangerously near to her face. Ethel grunted, spit dripping off her bottom lip. Darkness shifted at the corner of Kelsey’s vision. Only her knee prevented full on body contact.

  God, no! No. Not like this. Not at her hand.

  Ethel was stronger than Kelsey expected. Heavier too. The old woman pressed all of her weight forward, her forearms mashing Kelsey’s chest. She turned her head to avoid the blade, but it nicked her cheek. Warmth washed down her neck.

  “Don’t worry, Kelsey Durrant,” Ethel whispered. “You ain’t going to die right away. Oh, no. I need you alive to watch while I gut Raymond. He’ll cry like a stuck baby pig, but there won’t be nothing you can do to help him.”

  Already facing Raymond, the gentlest blue eyes reached across the distance to Kelsey. Ethel was scaring him but she was right. He’d be easy to kill, Jeff and Newton too. Kelsey clenched her jaw at the cold hard truth. There was no one coming to her rescue this time. Everyone would die.

  She pushed as hard as she could to create a pocket of space between her body and Ethel’s, but Kelsey was afraid. She needed room to breathe. To move. Maybe she couldn’t win this fight after all. No, God. No! No! No!

  “And then,” Ethel taunted, “I’m going to Alexandria for that thing you shacked up with. He ain’t your husband. I know better. You’re already married. You’ll always be Kelsey Durrant. You belong to Nicky.”

  “Never!”

  “Oh yes. You’re Nicky’s, and Stewart’s gonna pay for what he’s done. Bastard’s gonna squeal louder than Raymond by the time I’m done with him. Got me a special knife. Fact, I got two. Nicky’s and Buck’s. You remember Buck, don’t you?”

  A shudder ripped through Kelsey. How could she forget the men who nearly killed her?

  “Been honing them knives for months. They’re finally sharp enough to strip the meat off a man’s bones just to hear him scream.” Kelsey could smell the dead teeth in Ethel’s mean mouth. “It’s time, Mrs. Nicky Durrant, time to cut that lying tongue out of your ugly face.”

  The fight was nearly over. Ethel knew it. Kelsey knew it. She could not hold the murderer off. The switchblade dipped closer. It kissed the underside of her jaw. She took a final breath. One more cut like the last and her throat would be cut. Kelsey sent a fervent prayer heavenward. Ethel’s face wrinkled into a mask of demented joy. The Lord had his chance. So did the law. A fist-sized pocket of space opened between her and the witch and—

  BLAM!

  Ethel’s pig like eyes widened with sudden enlightenment.

  “You bitch!” Ethel had forgotten the revolver Kelsey had made sure not to drop in the scuffle. The one pointed into the blackest heart on earth. “That’s for your grandson. Remember him? His name was Tommy.”

  BOOM!

  Ethel’s eyes opened wider. “B-b-but—”

  “For Jackie!” The glorious beast was once again unleashed and seeing red. Two shells down. One to go.

  The revolver roared in awful triumph with her. “For Raymond! You wanna tell me what you’re gonna do to him now, you child-murdering pig?”

  Ethel was past hearing. One leg kicked involuntarily out to the side. A strand of bloody drool slipped between her lips. The evil light faded from her eyes while the knife dropped to the ground.

  Kelsey pushed the woman off and jumped to her feet. One more round would have been perfect. One for Alex. Maybe two more for Jeff and Newton. She bounced from the adrenaline surging through her. She’d won this round. Champ. Winner. Mother. The witch was finally dead.

  “And my name is Mrs. Kelsey Stewart!” she informed the blank-eyed sociopath at her feet.

  “Good girl,” Newton groaned from the dark.

  Angry she’d been hurt again, she wiped the back of her hand over her bleeding cheek. Sucking in the first breath in a world that would never again know the likes of Ethel Durrant felt good. She jerked her head toward the sound of boots hitting the ground behind her. Alex led the charge with Harley, Judy, and Zack on his six, bright lights in their hands. No friends ever looked better. Or more shocked.

  “Kelsey?” Alex stopped in his tracks, his eyes darting over the grisly scene. “Are you hurt?”

  She jerked her head in quick denial. The scratches and cuts were nothing. “No. Why?”

  “Honey.” He approached warily and reached for the revolver in her trembling fingers. “You’re covered in blood.”

  She looked down at her clothes and her arms, drenched red and wet. “Yeah, well, it’s been kind of a bad day. My men. They’re hurt. They need help.”

  Zack, Harley and Judy rushed by her, but tenderness tugged at Alex’s mouth. “Your men?” They stood face to face, the invisible force field between them warning him off.

  “Yes. My men.”

  Kelsey was not the same quiet little mouse he’d married. Not anymore. The deed was done, but she could not release the gun that had just saved her life even though his hand encompassed hers. If only her heart would give her a break and stop racing. If only she could think again.

  “It’s finished,” he said softly, pointing the barrel of her weapon down.

  But it wasn’t. She could not catch a big enough breath to quench the awful excitement flooding her. Every bone in her body shook. The truth hit righteously, frighteningly hard. She understood why Alex did what he did. Logically, it made sense that he and his men chose to walk into danger despite the very real possibility they’d be killed. It all came down to the survival of good in the world. Evil could not win. But still....

  She, Kelsey Stewart, the mother of sons had killed tonight. The paradox of who she’d become in the last two days did not fit the paradigm of who she used to be. Her heart felt locked in battle with her head. What had she just committed? Self-defense? Murder? Bile climbed up the back of her throat. She sought Ethel’s eyes for the answers, but Alex cupped her cheek, turning her to him.

  “No,” he said firmly, one hand skimming over the bloody bump on the side of her face and the other still holding fast to her shooting hand.

  “No.” Just as firmly, she refused to release the revolver. It was all that had saved her and her men. “She might... She might....”

  “She won’t. It’s over, sweetheart. Give me your weapon. Do it now.”

  “Yeah, Kelsey Girl. I’m pretty sure you got her,” Harley muttered somewhere in the background.

  “I killed her,” she confessed and the fight went out of her. The forest spun, and suddenly, she was off her feet and in Alex’s arms. He dropped to one knee, his hand gently unlatching her fingers from the revolver while he folded her against him. Burrowing into him, she needed that cool assurance he always brought with him, that certainty she had not committed a grievous sin. Needing forgiveness.

  “Kelsey,” he breathed her name a prayer against her forehead. “You had no choice. She would have killed you.” His strength absolved her instantly.

  “I love you.” Her fingers dug into the sides of his head, forcing his mouth to hers. Alex complied with fury, his hand at the back of her head, holding her in a vice to his lips. His need matched hers, the growl rumbling up from his heart feral, filled with pain and anger, desperate with needing her. She cried, finally where she belonged, but so very much a different person.

  He stilled, pressing her beneath his chin to the thunder in his chest. Alex secured both his and her weapons somewhere on his body. She didn’t know where. All she felt was the band of his arms holding her together. She breathed him in, not wanting the reunion to end but k
nowing more work lay ahead. “I need your help. Please. Everyone’s hurt.”

  “I’m here. Tell me what you need.”

  Her hands flew to his face. Their roles were reversed. Tears moistened her hero’s cheeks.

  She eased out of his gentle grasp. “Please help me help them.”

  “Your cheek. Your head. Sweetheart, you’re bleeding.” He set her feet to the ground, his hands still smoothing over her.

  “I’m fine. It’s Raymond.” She held his wrist, pulling him forward. “Jeff and Newton, too.”

  The scene had already changed to medical triage with Zack securing another tourniquet on Newton’s leg. Judy knelt over Jeff, her medical bag opened while Harley assisted.

  Alex caught sight of the carnage. “Durrant did this?”

  “Yes. Raymond and me were next.”

  “Medical chopper is on its way,” Zack reported grimly. “Sheriff should be here soon. This guy’s lost a lot of blood, but I’ve slowed the bleeding for now.”

  “Thanks.” Newton’s hand reached for Zack. “Name’s Newton Bridges. Damned glad to make your acquaintance.”

  “Zack Lennox. Rest easy. We’ll get you out of here in no time at all.”

  “My patient is gut shot,” Judy announced grimly. “Harley, give me more packing.”

  “Yes, ma’am. There’s another first-aid kit in the chopper. I can run back and get it.”

  “Then do it,” she snapped.

  Harley pushed slowly off the ground, nodding toward Kelsey as he hurried by. “Looks like you’ve been in a dammed war, darlin’.”

  She had to agree. It had been a war, but winning did not feel as good as she’d expected. Too many casualties lay in mortal danger. Even Harley did not look well.

  She went to Raymond’s side. Alex knelt with her.

  “Who have we here?” He clenched Raymond’s hefty shoulder.

  “Kel... sey,” Raymond whined, leaning away from Alex. “He’s touching me.”

  Kelsey took his hand to comfort him. “This is Alex. Harley, Judy, and Zack too. They are going to save us.”

  “Where’s—she?”

  “You mean Ethel? She’s dead.” She didn’t have the heart to explain anymore.