Chasing Bliss

by Sophie Oak

  But he was on her side. And she was kind of glad. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be on Henry’s bad side.

  “Can you call Nate for me?” She reached for Jesse’s hand. He’d had a rough night, what with all the fake meat. “We have to go to Hell on Wheels and haul Cade home.” They were close to the bar. If they wanted to, they could walk. They might have to figure out how to walk home if Cade was too drunk to drive. If he would come home with them at all.

  Henry nodded. “Sure thing. We’ll explain it to him and give Cam the name to start looking for. You be careful at that bar. It can be a dangerous place.”

  “I’ll keep her safe.” Jesse wrapped an arm around her.

  They walked out the door and into the star-filled night. There was a brisk chill to the air, and she wondered what this place would look like blanketed in snow. She would find out. She was going to spend her life here. Now she realized her mother had come here for more than one reason. She’d come here for Gemma, to reinforce the lesson her father had tried to teach her as he lay dying. Live. She’d existed before, but now far from everything she’d thought she wanted, she was finally alive.

  “Did you get what you need?” Jesse asked.

  He and Cade were what she needed, but she answered his question. She settled her bag around her shoulder, crossing it over her chest to settle on the opposite hip. “Oh, yes. And more. With a little help from my friends, I can put Patrick in jail.” Where they wouldn’t let him wear suits. Orange. He would look so good in orange. It really was his color. And he could be someone’s bitch in jail. “All I need is a little of Cam’s magic fingers. If he can get into the EPA guy’s bank account, we should be able to trace the money. And I have a whole corporate map of Tremon. I put it together. I know that company down to the last piddly ass storefront. I can find the money trail.”

  Jesse gave her a grin. “This is the happiest I’ve seen you.”

  She frowned back. “Not true. I seem to remember being much happier that I’m getting married. I am getting married, right?”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “Damn straight you are. Now, tell me why you’re happy about this. Besides the fact that you get to dream about Patrick and his new prison friends.”

  He was going to make her admit it. Damn it. “I get to help those kids.”

  “And that’s what my Gemma can be.” He kissed her again, slower this time. “I love you.” He stopped, his eyes squinting in the darkness. “What’s wrong with my bike?”

  She was just about to give him his words back when there was a muffled sound and Jesse staggered back. He touched his stomach and even in the moonlight, Gemma could see blood.

  “Don’t scream or I’ll shoot him again.” Patrick stood in the middle of the dirt road, his hand shaking. “I didn’t want to do this. Damn it. I didn’t want to do this at all.”

  * * * *

  Jesse fell to his knees, his strength fading.

  “Jesse!” Gemma tried to get her arms around him. “Oh, god. Don’t do this. Don’t you die.”

  She put a hand on his abdomen as though she could stop the blood flowing out of his body.

  Fuck, getting shot hurt. “Get out of here.”

  Her tears sparkled in the moonlight. “I won’t leave you.”

  “Get up, Gemma.” Patrick. Patrick had shot him. Patrick was going to kill Gemma. “Unless you want me to finish off your boyfriend, you’re going to get up and get me in that house. You found the evidence, didn’t you? That idiot activist has it.”

  “Don’t.” Jesse whispered. “He’ll still kill me. Run, darlin’.”

  She stared down at him, leaned over, and kissed his forehead. “Can’t.”

  “Gemma, if I see your hand move an inch toward that wretched bag of yours, I’ll put one through his brain. You don’t think I remember you carry a gun?” Patrick moved closer, but was just out of reach.

  Gemma frowned. “The sheriff took my gun. He hasn’t given it back to me, yet. Nate Wright and I are going to have such a talk about that. The best I can give you is a little pepper spray.”

  If he came just a little closer, Jesse might be able to get his damn limbs to function long enough to pull the fucker down to the ground. Gemma could run.

  “Get up now, Gemma,” Patrick ordered.

  Gemma kissed him one more time before getting to her feet and staring at Patrick. “You really did it. You bribed that official.”

  “Of course I did, Gemma. They were never going to promote you. I always knew you couldn’t handle getting your hands really dirty. This is business, and business is always war. I didn’t like this part either, but I can’t get out and I’m sure as hell not going to let some backwoods idiot’s morality cost me my life.”

  Gemma’s head swung toward the house. “They’re nice people.”

  “Nice? God, what’s happened to you?” He looked down at Jesse, a sneer on his face. “This guy? Or the other idiot you’re shacked up with? What? You get a little cock and go soft?”

  “I had a little cock, Patrick, or did you forget the years I spent with you?”

  That was his girl. Sass to the end. Jesse watched Patrick. Just a little closer. His hands twitched.

  Patrick sneered right back. “Yeah, well, you were an ice princess, sweetheart. You know what happens to cocks in the cold.”

  Patrick leaned forward just enough. Jesse grabbed his ankle and pulled with all his might, adrenaline rushing through his system. “Run, Gemma. Now!”

  The gun went off again. Jesse felt something burn against his left side. He reached out to get the gun. It had fallen. It glinted in the moonlight, but all the air left his body as Patrick planted a knee in his gut. Agony filled his world. Pain unimaginable overtook him. He grunted, trying to breathe.

  He heard a knocking and a shout and then Patrick was on his feet again, gun in hand.

  “Catch me if you can, asshole. Let’s see if you can catch me before I get to the sheriff.” Gemma’s voice trailed off.

  Patrick took off after her.

  It was only a second later that Henry Flanders’s face came into view. “How many?”

  His voice was a flat monotone, not the light and sympathetic tone Henry almost always used.

  “I think I got hit twice.” His gut was on fire. “You have to help Gemma. Call the sheriff. Call Cade.”

  Cade would come. Jesse knew it.

  “How many guns?” Henry corrected.

  “Just one.”

  “Excellent.” Henry looked over Jesse. “Nell’s coming. She’ll take care of you. Do not allow her to come after me. I don’t want her to see this.”

  Henry was gone in a flash, but Nell’s soft hands were suddenly smoothing back his hair. “I called 911. They’ll be here soon. I am so sorry, but I have to cover this.” A wave of nausea hit as she pressed a hand towel to his wound. “It’s organic cotton. And it’s clean. Oh, Jesse, please hold on. Where did my husband go?”

  Jesse reached for her hand. Whatever Henry was going to do would be rough. He’d seen it in Henry’s eyes. And he was also pretty sure Henry wouldn’t do it if his wife was around. He had to keep Nell with him. “Please. Don’t leave.”

  Her eyes turned round and sympathetic. “Of course not.”

  And then it didn’t matter because the world began to narrow. He looked to the sky. The stars were endless.

  * * * *

  Cade practically tackled the sheriff in the parking lot.

  “We can talk about this debacle back at the station house, Sinclair. Go and get Gemma and Jesse and we can all talk about how fucked up this whole situation is.” Wright stared back at the neon-lit bar, an angry look on his face.

  Cade would love to know just what had happened to make those two men hate each other, but he had other problems. “I want the story now. I really want to know why no one bothered to mention this little operation of yours. How long have you known where Patrick is?”

  Nate sighed. “He talked to Mike last night. We thought this would be t
he best way to gather the evidence we need against him. I was very certain he wouldn’t make a move on Gemma. Rafe trailed her all day until she left with Jesse. She’s safe in the valley. Everyone’s watching out for her.”

  McMahon tugged at his shirt, pulling out a small microphone that had been taped to his body. “Won’t need this now.”

  “He might call back, try to arrange another meeting,” Cam said.

  “Doubt it. Even if he didn’t see the law here, he got spooked really easily. And he said he had a deadline. She had to be dead by tomorrow morning, or he would be the one in a casket. He was very specific. She had to be dead by dawn or I wouldn’t get my money.” McMahon ran a hand through his longish hair. “I’m done with this shit. I’m not coming off my mountain again.”

  Fuck, he had to get to Gemma. He would tell Jesse what was going on, and then they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They would just get the hell out of here and hide out until this whole thing was sorted out. His fear didn’t matter now. He was way more afraid of a world without Gemma in it than he was of anything else.

  Cam cursed as he pulled out his cell phone. “Rafe says Jesse and Gemma left a half an hour ago on Jesse’s bike. He stopped them as they were leaving. They were headed to Nell and Henry’s. Do you want him to go up there with them?”

  Nate scrubbed a hand across his head. “Damn it. No. I’ll go do it. Maybe someone will off this little shit and then we won’t have to worry about him.” He sighed. “Then we can worry about whoever killed him.”

  It was bigger than just Patrick. Cade’s mind spun with the implications. Gemma was involved in something big, and she didn’t even know it. “Where do Nell and Henry live?”

  Jesse had been out to their place to help Henry fix their biodiesel car, but Cade hadn’t been.

  “Just come with me.” Nate started for the parking lot. He’d left the county Bronco behind. Cade recognized Zane’s black truck.

  Cade went along because he didn’t really have a place to stash thirty grand on his bike, and the sooner he got to Gemma, the better.

  He slipped into the backseat just as the radio squawked.

  “Sheriff? We have a 911 call from Nell Flanders. She says someone’s shooting outside her cabin, and we already have one down. I’ve dispatched the Creede boys out, but if you’re still at Hell on Wheels, you can get there faster.” Laura’s voice came over the radio. “Rafe’s on his way, too. I’ve called for Caleb and Ty, so expect a bunch of sirens coming your way.”

  Nate already had the truck in gear and the gravel was flying.

  “Who’s down?” Cade asked from the backseat. Don’t be Gemma. Don’t be Gemma.

  Nate handed the handset to Cam as he flew down the mountain.

  “Laura, do we have an ID on the vic?” Cam’s voice was perfectly steady.

  Laura paused, sending Cade’s stomach into knots. “Jesse McCann. No word on his status. The situation is fluid and dangerous. Use all caution. I’ll update you if I can.”

  Status. No word on Jesse’s status. They didn’t know if he was dead or alive. The situation was ongoing. Patrick had made his move, and Jesse had paid the price.

  Guilt swamped him. He’d caused this. Like he’d caused everything else. Patrick would have been arrested if he hadn’t bumbled like an idiot into everything.

  “I should have told you,” Nate said, his words tight. “If I’d been in your same position, I would have gone after the bastard, too.”

  Cam talked as he checked the clip on his gun. “We got the message from Mike this morning. He didn’t give us a lot of time to make reasonable decisions. He basically walked into the station house and invited us along.”

  Nate’s hands tightened on the wheel. “As fucked up as Mike is, we should be glad he didn’t just kill the guy himself.”

  “Can you go faster?” Cade asked, keeping his voice even when all he wanted to do was scream.

  “Not if I don’t want us to die,” Nate replied. “When we get there, you stay in the car, Cade. You let us do our jobs.”

  Cade kept his mouth shut because he couldn’t promise that. If he could save Gemma, he would. If he could save Jesse, he would. His love. His brother. And if he couldn’t save them, then nothing mattered anyway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gemma clutched her purse as she ran, praying the crazed knocking she’d done would bring the Flanderses out to help Jesse. If they hadn’t gone back to their kink fest. The one thing she couldn’t do was let Patrick walk into their small cottage and slaughter everyone there because he wanted to move up in the firm.

  Jesse. She couldn’t even think of him lying there. She couldn’t contemplate the fact that Patrick might have spared a second or two to finish him off. If that second bullet hadn’t done the trick.

  She ran, her sandals thunking against the ground. She could hear the river. The Rio Grande was deep here. It also cut her off. The road was to her right, but Patrick would be able to see her there. She was safer in the cluster of white-trunked aspens and thick pines.

  “Gemma? Gemma, we can work something out.”

  Yeah, she wasn’t falling for that one. She caught her breath behind the trunk of a tree. As quietly as she could, she unzipped her purse, silently cursing Nate for keeping her gun after he’d found out she’d never actually taken a gun safety class. She had a place in Alexei Markov’s next workshop. Apparently being a mob hit man had also made him an expert in gun safety. And Gemma wasn’t allowed to carry concealed until Alexei signed off on it. Nate had offered her a shotgun, and she’d flipped him off.

  Damn, she wished she had that shotgun now.

  “Come on, sweetheart. You know you don’t really belong here. These people are nut-job idealists. They don’t understand how the world works.”

  He was using his courtroom voice on her, laying the charm on thick. She used to think he sounded smart and trustworthy, but now she saw him for what he’d been all along. A slimy slickster who wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him in the ass. Jesse’s gruff but honest rumble was music to her ears. Cade and his frustrating Atlas complex was so much more lovable and true than Patrick. She took a deep breath as her hand sank into her voluminous bag. Where was it?

  Lipstick. Snack-size bag of almonds. Notepad. God, why did she have all that crap? How many pens did one woman need?

  “Do you know who owns Tremon? Martin Tremon. But who is his biggest stockholder?”

  Gemma stopped. Senator Allen Cameron was the largest stockholder. Senator Allen Cameron, who was about to run for president on a green energy platform. He was ahead in all the polls. He was the perfect blend of conservative and forward-thinking businessman. She’d heard some interesting rumors about the senator’s personal life. There were rumors of one son who didn’t speak to him and another who he’d swept under the rug long before, but nothing that would cost him the election.

  A company he was heavily invested in polluting a town to the point that children were dying. Oh, yeah, that would do it. Cameron hid his investments under cloaks of anonymous corporations, but someone could untangle that web and likely would. If he wanted to win the election, Calvin Township had to be clean.

  Patrick had to kill her. He had to. Then he had to kill Nell and Henry and anyone else who might know something about this.

  “Sweetheart, you know he’s going to win the election. And I’m going to end up working at the White House. You can come with me.”

  In a coffin.

  “You know we can get out of this,” Patrick continued. “All you have to do is tell that idiot sheriff about how your boyfriend out there was screwing around with the dipshit activist and how her husband killed them both and then turned the gun on himself.”

  So that was supposed to be his out. Nate would never believe it. But Patrick was arrogant. He thought he could get away with anything. Air horn. Why was she carrying that stupid air horn that, according to everyone, would just piss off the bears?

  And there it was. Finally. Pepper spray.
She flipped the safety button off and waited.

  “We could rule Washington, babe. You and me. Leave Giles and Knoxbury behind and ride Cameron’s coattails all the way to the Supreme Court.”

  She couldn’t tell where he was. The sound seemed to bounce off the trees, making it sound like his voice came from everywhere all at once. And then there was the sound of her heartbeat. It seemed to pound out of her chest, an alert to anyone and anything close that she was here and waiting to be taken down. Despite the cool evening air, she’d broken into a sweat. Her hand shook as she clutched the little vial of pepper spray. She’d never used it before. Even in New York, she’d felt fairly safe.

  “Or I can just kill you here and frame the dumbass myself.” Patrick moved from behind the tree. The darkness couldn’t mask the self-satisfied smile on his face. “Guess your smarts don’t win over my ambition after all.”

  But her pepper spray beat his gun because she didn’t hesitate. She did exactly what the instruction manual had said. She sprayed, moving her hand back and forth in a waving motion.

  Patrick screamed and the gun went off, narrowly missing her.

  Gemma took off because he was firing blind now, and he didn’t seem to care. She ran as fast and hard as she could, looking back to see if he was coming.

  And then the world tilted on its axis. Or at least that was the way it felt. Gemma’s foot hit a rock and she fell, her hands going out to catch herself, but she didn’t hit the ground. Water filled her world. Cold and rushing fast. She hit the water and started to go under.

  So freaking cold. She’d never felt cold permeate her skin the way the waters of the Rio Grande did. She tried to kick up. Her hand broke the surface all the way to her elbow. She could feel the air.

  But she couldn’t get to it. Her left foot moved freely, but her right foot had jammed when she fell. She was caught in a fallen log, her foot tangling in its branches, holding her under.