Anger, fear, and a flash of that crazy filled the aqua eyes.
“I hate you,” Luther suddenly shouted, though the weapon never rose farther as he glared at Zoey.
Her eyes widened. “You’re breaking my heart, Luther,” she informed him intractably. “You think I didn’t figure out you hated me?”
“I didn’t even hate you then,” he cried. “I just wanted you arrested. I didn’t really hurt you. I wanted Dawg hurt. He’s the reason I was sent away.” The crazy was beginning to become enraged.
His hand trembled, his finger tightening on the trigger as it lifted just a little farther. She jumped to the side, throwing herself to the floor. Doogan jumped for Luther, slammed his body into the smaller man’s, and took him to the floor. The gun was flung across the floor, skittering beneath the table. Zoey scrambled for it, grabbing it quickly and coming to her knees before she realized Luther was unconscious.
Resting on one knee, Doogan flipped Luther to his stomach, jerked the other man’s arms behind his back, and secured his wrists quickly with a pair of nylon restraints Luther himself had carried.
“He’s crazy,” she whispered, staring back at Doogan wide eyed. “How does someone so crazy manage what he and Rigsby managed?”
Staring at the now-silent Luther, Doogan rose slowly to his feet before turning to her.
“Evidently, Rigsby was the brains of the two,” he grunted.
He was still tense, though, too tense, his gaze warning, something about his demeanor filling her with dread.
It wasn’t over.
Tightening her grip on the weapon she’d snapped up from the floor, Zoey rested it against the padded seat of the chair she knelt beside.
“Unfortunately for Zoey, that’s not necessarily true, Doogan.” Jack Clay stepped from Zoey’s bedroom then, his gaze hard, his expression, though, regretful.
“Jack.” She whispered his name in shock.
Not Jack. He couldn’t be involved in this. He wouldn’t hurt her. They’d worked together for so long. For more than five years.
“You were supposed to die on the way back from Louisville,” Jack sighed, the gun he held not trembling in the least. There was nothing crazy in his expression or his gaze. Just determination.
“Billy knew?” she whispered.
“Billy’s probably the only reason you’re still alive,” Doogan said then. “Jack wasn’t expecting his brother to be with you.”
Jack’s lips quirked at the statement. “Very true,” he sighed. “I actually expected Dawg to make that trip with her. At which point, I would have been in place myself to take his head off with my rifle, and Rigsby would have taken care of Zoey.” He shrugged negligently. “I really hadn’t wanted to kill Zoey myself.”
“You wouldn’t have been any less guilty,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
“Still, I wouldn’t have put the bullet in your head myself. Then you just had to call Billy to go with you.” His smile was rueful. “Mackay intuition?”
Zoey swallowed, the movement difficult. “Everyone else was busy. I promised Dawg I wouldn’t take trips out of the county alone.”
He chuckled at her answer, though his attention never faltered from Doogan as he stood in position to keep them both in sight. “Fate, then? How fucking appropriate. That bitch seems to like your family far too much, Zoey.”
She’d heard that accusation before.
Turning her wrist, she aimed the gun she held, pain racing through her. She didn’t want to kill him.
“That bastard Rigsby shot Billy, though.” Jack shook his head. “He would have died for that alone. Now, I have to kill both of you myself.” His gaze flicked to the unconscious Luther. “I thought for sure he was smart enough to take care of this. Crazy enough to do it, anyway. I didn’t anticipate him being soft where you’re concerned.”
“Most people are,” Doogan assured him coolly, drawing Jack’s attention from Luther. “You’re not going to get away with this, Jack. It won’t happen.”
“Sure I will,” Jack assured him, his gaze somber. “I’m going to hate having to do it myself, but I accepted last year that it had to be done. I can’t let that pact go through, Doogan. Those three bastards who are so loyal to Zoey would destroy my own little business. I thought at first that killing your brother and kidnapping your kid was enough, but Rigsby couldn’t even get that right could he? He was smart enough to cap Catalina, and your brother was nice enough to put a bullet in his own head, but you were still pushing, still working, even through the grief. But you were soft on Zoey. Real soft on her, and I knew it. Destroying her would have finished you, wouldn’t it?”
“Why Jack?” Doogan asked coolly. “How did any of this really help you? My daughter was innocent, Zoey was innocent. How does killing th
em help you?”