“She doesn’t come with me, she doesn’t come with anyone.” Rich straightened his arm, the gun pointed right at Suzanne’s head. Mason heard her anguished cry.
Jesus. Mason swa
llowed hard, his arm steady, his aim true. He’d never shot someone before and Rich wasn’t backing down. At least Blake wasn’t around. He had no idea where she was.
He’d done his job. He had that to hold onto.
“Please. Please, listen to me,” Suzanne begged and Rich shook his head, his arm whipping about violently. “I’ll go with you, I promise.”
“No you won’t. You’ll leave me, I know you will. No one can have you ever again, Amber. You’re mine. Forever.”
Before Rich got a chance, Mason fired his gun. Rich turned at the sound, his trigger finger jerking reflexively, sending a bullet in Mason’s direction. Rich flailed upon the bullet’s impact from Mason’s gun, landing sprawled on his back on the porch. The searing pain that hit Mason sent him crumpling to the ground.
“Oh, my God!” He heard Suzanne’s screams and assumed she ran to the man.
Mason stared up at the dark gray sky, blinking against the rain that fell upon his face. In the distance, he heard sirens and he shook his head, making himself groan. Resting his hand briefly on his stomach, he lifted it, held it in front of his face.
His entire hand was covered in blood.
Sucking in a sharp breath, he blinked, hard. It didn’t help. His vision was blurry, his head woozy and an icy cold numbness swept through his body.
And then he fell into nothingness.
* * * *
Blake watched the deputies’ cars speed by, their flashing lights and obnoxious sirens alerting their arrival. She sat in Mason’s rental car, her entire body trembling, too afraid to come out.
Afraid of what she might discover.
She thought she’d heard shots, she wasn’t sure. She wanted to go find Mason, but it was as if she were frozen, stuck to the driver’s seat.
An ambulance drove by next and cold fear wrapped itself around her, choking her. A sob escaped, then another. She needed to get out of the car She needed Mason but she was petrified.
What if something happened? Her eyes slid closed and tears flowed down her cheeks. She rested her hand on the door handle, slowly wrapping her fingers around it and tugged.
The door popped open with ease and she climbed out, started walking toward Suzanne’s house. Two deputy cars sat in front of it, as well as the ambulance. She heard the shouts of frantically working men.
One of the deputies spotted her and rushed toward her, his face one of concern. “Blake Hewitt?”
She nodded. Her mouth opened but nothing came out.
“Are you all right? Have you been injured?” He stopped her from walking, his hands resting on her sopping wet shoulders, his gaze intent as he studied her.
“No,” she croaked. “Where’s Mason?”
His thick, graying brows dipped down low and he glanced back toward the house before meeting her gaze once more. “Who are you talking about?”
“Mason. Agent Mason Russell.” She swallowed hard, the tears still running down her cheeks, mingling with the rain that splattered her face. “Is he okay?”
The deputy slipped his arm around her shoulder and led her toward the ambulance. “Let’s get you checked out, make sure everything’s all right.”
“I’m fine, I’m just cold.” Her teeth chattered with the words. “I need to know if Mason is hurt.”
“I’m going to have you talk to the medic,” the deputy said. Worry filled her, gnawed at her gut, making her sway on her feet.
Something was terribly wrong with Mason. She knew it, could feel it in her bones, especially since the deputy didn’t want to answer her questions.
Oh God, what would she do without Mason in her life?