CHAPTER 32
RHETT
Iroar as the bullet takes a chunk out of my upper arm. Then I bite down, reality seeming to slow as the scene hits me fully.
Elle is running down the road in full panic.
And behind her, Lucian, a gun in his hand and blood running down the front of his face and onto his shirt.
I snarl as I wheel around Elle, then slam on the gas and drive straight at Lucian. He fires another shot, which slams into the seat next to me. The first bullet hole made a neat circle in the glass, but now it shatters, raining down on me.
The car bucks as Lucian slams into the hood, then there are threethudsas he rolls over the roof and lands in the bed of the pickup. I pull to a screeching stop, quickly climbing out with my gun in my hand.
Lucian is lying in the back, wheezing, one hand gripping his stomach as the other limply claws for the gun which landed on the other side of the pickup.
I aim my gun, ignoring the burning in my shoulder, ready to end this.
He opens his mouth, letting out a moan of pain even as his mouth splits open into a bloody smile.
“What a hero,” he grunts. “You better call your buddies, cop.”
“Not a cop anymore,” I snarl.
His eyes widen. “You’re not going to end me, Rhett. No fucking way.”
“No, he’s not.”
Elle walks up next to me, looking fierce even though she must be afraid at the same time after her ordeal. Her hair is disheveled and her clothes are a mess, but she looks steady and certain.
“He’s not?” Lucian says, then spits out a globule of blood onto the pickup’s bed. His finger is still twitching for the gun, but he doesn’t have the strength for it.
“Rhett,” Elle says, glaring at me.
I chew the inside of my cheek. I know I agreed to this, and we need to move fast. This is a quiet road, but there’s a small chance a car might drive past here and see what’s going on.
My shoulder twinges as I stare, the bullet graze burning. I don’t think my Elle has even seen that I’m wounded. Good. I don’t want her to worry about me.
“Rhett,” she repeats, touching my arm.
“You don’t have to do this,” I snarl. “I can do it for you. I can carry it for you.”
“I don’t want you to carry it,” she says. “I want to end this onmyterms. This man took everything from me. My self-worth. My parents. My little sister’s innocence. Please. Don’t make me beg.”
My hand trembles as I offer her the gun. She takes it, licking her lips, looking terrified but focused. Her eyes are the brightest thing in the entire night, brighter than the stars and the moon, two lion-colored glowing points of revenge.
She raises the gun, and the barrel shakes.
“Both hands,” I tell her quietly. “Pull the trigger in a relaxed, steady way. Be ready for the recoil and the noise, Sunshine. The noise is going to be a lot.”
“Okay.” She licks her lips. “Anytime?”
“Yes,” I say. “Or I can do it for yo?—”
The gunshot goes off. For a second Lucian’s mouth is open as though ready to argue, then he slumps down, lifeless. I immediately rush to Elle, gently taking the gun from her hand. I expect her to slump against me and start shaking with terror and panic, or perhaps horror.
Instead, she gently leans against me. I wrap my good arm around her, holding the smoking gun in my other hand.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.
