Fear made her breathing shallow out, her head spin. Paralysis began to overtake her body until she shook it off. Nico wouldn’t win. No way was that happening. She ran to the bedroom closet and eased open the door. There had to be something she could use to defend herself and Tot. A baseball bat? A walking stick?
But there was nothing in the closet except for clothes and a pile of pillows.
“Where are you, lady?” Nico said, louder now, tone wheedling. “I didn’t mean what I said. Frustrated is all. Sick and tired of all this nature. I’m a city boy. If you come out, I won’t hurt you. I’ll take whatever Annette left you, the stuff she used to threaten me. She thought telling me would be enough to keep me from coming for her. Big mistake, but not your fault, right? That’s all I want, thephotos and whatever else. Not you or the kid. No need for any bloodshed.”
Liar.
He was moving toward the back of the trailer now, where he’d find the broken door that no longer locked.
She grabbed a hanger from the closet and began to untwist the sturdy wire. The end was not terribly sharp and it wouldn’t do much damage, but it was her only weapon and she would use it.
Nico’s voice was close now, directly under the window and moving toward the side door. “I’m going to find you, and you know what’s going to happen when I do.”
She did.
She and Tot would die.
Fingers ice cold, she finished untwisting the wire and prepared to defend them both.
SIXTEEN
Cullen’s body complainedloud and long as he hiked up the path past where they’d parked the bus. His heart lamented too, as he considered Kit’s very clear brush off.
“Stop trying tobe some sort of hero in my life,okay?”Her words burned like battery acid. Was that what he was doing without even realizing? Trying to be the big man and set her world to rights the way he thought it should be?“You’ve got a hero complex,always thinking you know the best way.”Again he heard the echo of the explosion that ruined Daniela’s legs.
He hiked faster, defying the thought. “Forgiven,” he whispered.I’m forgiven.And he had started to accept it now, thanks to Kit. Ironic.
The ash glimmered in the dim light, sparkling with bits of the mountain it contained. Wreck and ruin everywhere, but the beauty on these slopes would return someday. He’d seen it, riding his horses over fire-blasted fields where the green eventually broke through, planting a flag where there had been only destruction. God would have the final word here, too, after the fury died away.
Higher he climbed, his aim a pyramid of rock that jutted out over the valley where he could see the trailer park and the swollen river that was doing its best to keep flowing in spite of the fouled waters. Over, under, around, the waves surmounted all the obstacles. His thoughts rolled along too, untidy and tumbling, until he had an epiphany.
Yeah, he was still bossy and probably had overstepped with Kit, but he hadn’t wanted to change her course or direction, her character, rescue her from some perceived hardship. He merely wanted to be with her, near her ... love her? That stopped him in his tracks.
Did he love Kit Garrido? The introverted, independent, way-too-honest woman he’d known only since Wednesday? No, it wasn’t possible.
His heart argued with his brain. But the days had been intense, as if they’d been in a crucible, subjected to the highest heat that had melted away all the extraneous. They hadn’t put up any fronts, rallied any posturing or pretenses. He’d seen the truth of her, unfiltered, and she’d seen the same in him. He’d witnessed it in his police work, people bonding during traumatic experiences because that’s how they survived.
His boots thudded heavily as he plodded. Kit’s essence made him yearn for something permanent with her ... but she did not seem to feel the same way.
He caught a glimpse of a wide glittering lake beyond the trailers. A prime location for fishing once the river recovered, which might take decades. As he climbed a foot farther up the messy slope, the bars on his phone lit up. He whooped and immediately dialed Gideon, pulse revving.
“It’s Cullen.”
“Where?” Gideon demanded without preamble. “Don’t clutter up the line with extra words. Tell me your location ASAP.”
He did, jaw tight as he prayed the connection wouldn’t drop off again before he got the information out.
“Copy that,” Gideon snapped. “I got the story on Nico and his brother. Understand the threat. When I lost your signal ...”
“My phone’s working sporadically. So far, no sign of Nico here, but ... there are three other friendlies in the area. Kyle, Annette Bowman’s boyfriend, we think. Archie Esposito. He was in the area of the lumber mill before the slide. And there’s a worker, John something. Shot. Dead.” He couldn’t rattle off the information fast enough.
“I’ll come to you. Stay there.”
“We need a chopper. We’re transporting a baby.”
Gideon said something, but the comment was lost in a wash of static.
“Gideon?”
