“But I found you again.” Bob eased himself down in the chair facing them, the gun never wavering. “I found you in Las Vegas.”
She nodded, seemingly dazed with the memory. “You chased me through a casino.”
“And when I caught you, you did this to me.” He stroked the length of the scar on his cheek.
“I had a key in my hand…my room key. The blood. There was so much blood. That’s when I lost it. That’s what stole my memories…all that blood.” She closed her eyes, her face paper white.
Hank’s fingers itched to pull his gun, but he stifled the impulse, knowing if he wasn’t quick enough Bob would manage to get a shot at Colette. Patience, he told himself, hoping the right opportunity would present itself to get both himself and Colette out of this mess.
“So, you’re the one who pushed Colette down that root cellar at the ranch,” Hank said.
Bob nodded. “She wasn’t supposed to be found.”
“And you pushed me off the butte,” Colette added.
The gunman frowned. “That wasn’t me. Maybe you’ve got more enemies than you know about at the ranch. All I know is you’ve been one pain in Mr. Collier’s behind.”
“And you’re going to do Collier’s dirty work,” Hank returned. “Collier never gets his hands dirty. He always hires big, stupid bozos like you.”
Bob laughed. “You think you can rile me by calling me stupid? Get me angry so I make a mistake?” He laughed again. “I’m not doing this for Collier.” He pointed the gun at Colette’s forehead as his other hand crept up to touch his scar. “This one is just for me. Bang!”
Colette jumped, Hank swore and Bob laughed harder. His laughter died and his gaze grew hard. “Well, this little walk down memory lane has been nice, but it’s time to finish this.” He stood. “What I have in mind is a murder/suicide scene. Hank here kills Colette, then overwhelmed with grief, kills himself.”
“Nobody will believe that,” Hank scoffed. His heart pounded frantically as he tried to figure how to get to Bob before Bob got to Colette. As long as Bob held the gun firmly trained on Colette, Hank couldn’t take any chances.
“Ultimately I don’t care what anyone believes. As long as both of you are dead, nobody can point a finger at me or Mr. Collier. Now, let’s go slowly into the bedroom. If you cooperate, I’ll even let you kiss each other goodbye.”
Knowing no perfect opportunity was going to present itself, as Hank stood he grabbed the gun fromhis boot. As he shot, he threw himself in front of Colette.
He had the satisfaction of watching Bob sprawl to the floor before Hank became aware of a searing, burning pain in his chest. He heard Colette scream as he crumpled to the floor.
“Hank, oh, God…Hank.” Colette fell to her knees by his side.
“Call 9-1-1,” he whispered, fighting the blackness of unconsciousness, knowing if he gave in to it, he’d never wake up.
Colette scrambled to the phone and dialed the emergency number. As she screamed into the receiver, Hank raised his head to see how badly he’d been hit. Bad. Blood seeped far too quickly from the wound in his upper chest. If medical attention didn’t happen quickly, he feared he would bleed to death.
Colette hung up the receiver and crawled back over to him. “Hang on, Hank. Help is on the way.”
Again darkness danced at the edges of his vision, beckoning him into the dark void where he wouldn’t feel the pain. He fought it, breathing shallow, fiery breaths as his lifeblood continued to drain. “Colette, you have to help me.” He closed his eyes, finding the act of speech exhausting.
“What should I do? Tell me what to do.”
He opened his eyes and looked at her, saw the tears that sparkled on her lashes, the fear that trembled her lips. “Get a towel or something. You need to stanch the bleeding.”
She left him and was back in a moment, a bath towel in hand. As she leaned over him to position the towel on the wound, he saw that her face was voidof all color. “So much blood…” she murmured faintly. She swayed as if fighting a faint.
“I’ll do it,” he said, knowing how the sight of blood affected her. He tried to raise his hand to place it on the towel.
“No.” She inhaled a tremulous breath. “I’ll do it.” She seemed to draw from a source of strength he didn’t know she possessed. Placing her hands on the towel, she gazed into his eyes. “You saved my life.”
He forced a smile. “That’s my job.”
“You’re Brook’s father.” Tears splashed on her cheeks. It wasn’t a question and he didn’t answer. “You lied when you told me I was pregnant before overhearing Collier. You’re Brook’s father and you didn’t want her. You didn’t want me. That’s why I ran from you.”
Sirens wailed in the distance, signaling their approach. Hank closed his eyes once again, not wanting to see the pain reflected in her eyes. “I never made any promises. You said you expected nothing from me. You promised you understood the rules.”
“It’s a promise I can’t keep.” Her voice was thick with tears. “Damn you, Hank. I love you.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed softly, then gave in to the darkness that beckoned.
