Empty.
John falls to his side, dropping the gun and wrapping both hands around his throat. Crimson tinges his face. His legs kick beneath me, and his mouth gulps for air.
“Raina.” Lorne drops to his knees beside me, tense and panting. “We’ll do this together, okay?”
My voice hides beneath an overload of adrenaline, fear, and hours of nerve-wringing stress, but I manage a nod.
He places a hand over mine, where I white-knuckle the knot of guitar strings. His other hand angles his hunting knife over John’s heart.
“This is the knife that cut Jarret and me out of the rope in the ravine.” He stares into John’s bulging, dying eyes, his voice a blade of ice. “It’s the knife that scarred our hands and sealed our blood oath to end Levi Tibbs. And it’s the knife that will end you.”
He looks at me, and my skin tingles with horror and urgency. I wrap my fingers around his on the handle, and together, we drive it between John’s ribs.
The blade sinks hard and fast, and John’s body falls still, his eyes open and unseeing.
I drop back on my butt, and my gaze darts across the room.
“Jake.” The sob that’s been waiting in my throat bursts free, followed by a torrent of tears.
I crawl on hands and knees toward the couch, defeated by exhaustion and driven by grief. I just need to see him, to make sure.
“Raina. Shhh.” Lorne tackles me and hauls my body onto his lap.
His arms come around me as movement sounds near the kitchen.
My breath freezes, and my fingers curl into Lorne’s shoulders.
A hand emerges from behind the couch, followed by the man who was shot multiple times in the chest.
“What?” My heart races, and a wave of dizziness washes over me. “How?”
Jake strides around the furniture, his expression taut as he glances at his dead father.
“I took Fletcher’s gun before we came here.” He kneels beside us and rests a warm hand on my arm. “He assumed I returned it with live ammunition.”
“Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups.” Lorne brushes the hair away from my face.
It takes a moment for reality to sink in, even though it’s right in front of me, larger than life. “They were blanks.”
Jake nods. “If Fletcher hadn’t been under duress, he might’ve noticed the difference in the sound.”
Jake’s alive. Lorne’s unharmed. John’s gone, and he’s never coming back.
It’s finished.
In the seconds that follow, I feel Lorne’s arms squeezing around me and mine reciprocating. No longer will we be hiding behind security alarms or looking over our shoulders.
We can finally put everything behind us and live.
Jake stares blankly at his father’s body, his voice flat. “John died under the belief that I’m dead.”
“That was the plan.” Lorne removes his hat and scrapes a hand over his head, his eyes tired and bloodshot.
“I’m glad.” Jake stands, removes his phone, and makes a call. “It’s over.” He ambles toward the kitchen. “Yeah, we’re all fine…”
Lorne lowers his face to mine, sharing his breaths as easily as he shares his heart. “Are you okay?”
That’s a loaded question, one I’m not emotionally stable enough to answer, but… “I’m alive, thanks to you.”
“You saved my life, Raina.” He cups my face. “If you hadn’t used the guitar strings the way you did, I would’ve lost that gunfight. I counted on John shooting Fletcher, but I thought he would continue firing until he ran out of ammo. I should’ve known he’d save bullets for me.”
“That whole thing was planned? Jake turning on Mary, Fletcher shooting Jake, then John killing Fletcher?”
“Yeah. We improvised a little along the way, but it was all planned, starting with Jake picking a fight with Fletcher and Mary about our mothers.”
“You didn’t know about Mary’s involvement.”
“No.” A muscle tics in his jaw.
“You were going to kill her anyway?”
“No mercy. No survivors.”
Ruthless.
I don’t care. He was ruthless when I met him, and I fell in love. His hard edges and vicious heart lures me in and lulls me to peace. His complexities captivate me, and his proximity owns me.
I drift toward him, slowly, needfully, until my mouth absorbs the raw, rich, masculine flavor of his power.
Loving Lorne is like loving a sharply-honed, meticulously-crafted blade. He’s so pretty to look at he should be put on display. But a true sword lover would never do that. I’ll always keep him at my side, like an extension of myself. His lethal danger will obliterate anyone who threatens me, and I’ll sharpen those edges and take care of him.
Jake goes into the garage, and a few seconds later, he steps back into the house. “Erin’s body is in the trunk of the car.”
My chest constricts. “How are we going to get away with this?”
Lorne grazes his lips over mine. “We’ll explain it away as self-defense.”
“No.” I jump to my feet and scan the room. “There are six dead bodies, and one of them is a sheriff. You won’t get away with this. Not with your criminal history.”