Page 132 of Wish You Were Mine

Had she been shot because of me?

Was she going to die because of me?

My throat constricted. No. It couldn’t be allowed. I wouldn’t allow it.

Summer and I were meant to live a long and beautiful life together, and I wouldn’t let this asshole take that from us.

I launched myself at Robert, who was trying to get Summer’s limp body off him, and before he had time to respond, I cracked him over the head with the handheld radio. He shouted, and his grip on the gun loosened. I reached for it, but then he rallied and whipped the barrel across my face.

I stumbled backward, but caught myself, ready to attack again. Only to find myself face-to-face with the muzzle of the gun.

“Don’t move,” Robert panted, setting his feet apart to adopt a more stable stance. A trickle of blood ran down the side of his face, but he didn’t seem concerned. If anything, I’d call the twist of his lips…satisfied. “Now you’ll know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

I looked down at Summer. She’d slumped on her back, her mossy green eyes barely visible between her eyelashes as she whimpered. Her shirt was dark, but despite that, I could tell that the fabric covering her lower chest and abdomen was soaked with blood. She was bleeding heavily, and who knew what internal damage there might be?

She needed medical help. Urgently.

My fingers twitched. I wanted nothing more than to run to her, drop to my knees at her side and get to work, but I couldn’t. Not while he held the gun on me. I couldn’t save her if I got myself shot.

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Look at her. She’s in pain. She hasn’t done anything to you, and if we don’t get her help right now, she might die.”

Robert hesitated, but he didn’t glance down at Summer. Damn.

“Are you really okay with murdering an innocent woman?” I asked, wondering how the hell to get through to him. I just had to hope that Connor had heard enough through the radio earlier to know how dire the situation was. I could really do with a miracle.

“She’s not innocent. She’s with you, which makes her complicit.”

There was absolutely no reasoning with this man.

Movement in the forest behind Robert caught my attention, but I forced myself not to stare and give it away. Perhaps if someone was coming, I’d be better off distracting Robert than trying to reason with him.

“You’re angry at the wrong person,” I said loudly, hoping to cover any noise behind him. Although the hiss and roar of the fire helped with that too. “Be angry at whoever was driving and lost control on the black ice. Or be angry at the universe for putting it there.”

If I remembered right, he’d been the one driving, so it was possible he’d been the one to spin out on the black ice. Maybe, deep down, he blamed himself, but he couldn’t live with that, so he’d had to find someone else to hold responsible.

Robert stared at me without speaking. So many emotions flickered across his face that I couldn’t get a read on him.

Connor appeared from the trees, creeping up behind Robert like a specter from the mist. My stomach lurched. He must have driven to the area and walked over, since I hadn’t heard any vehicles. He was carrying something. I didn’t dare look close enough to determine what it was, but, fuck, I hoped it could be used as a weapon.

“It’s not my fault your wife died,” I said loudly, and for the first time, I fully believed it, and any guilt I’d been harboring dissipated. Yes, it was tragic that he’d lost her, but coming after me wasn’t the answer. “Would she want this?”

He scowled, and his finger twitched on the trigger. I flinched, but the gun didn’t fire.

“Don’t pretend you care what Susan would want,” he growled.

Connor was only a few yards away now. He raised the object he carried over his head. From here, I could tell it was a branch, although he’d stripped off any leaves and twigs. Perhaps he’d taken it from one of the fallen trees he’d come across on the way.

“I do care,” I assured Robert. “Just because I couldn’t save her, that doesn’t mean I don’t know she had value.”

His jaw clenched. “Shut up.”

“I think—” I cut off when he looked through the scope and adjusted his aim. At the same time, Connor swung.

I lashed out and knocked the muzzle of the gun, so it wasn’t aiming straight at me. Connor struck the side of Robert’s head with the branch. His knees buckled, his eyes widened, and his finger convulsed against the trigger.

Pain scorched up my arm as he fired, the bullet grazing my flesh and embedding in the building behind me.

I cursed.

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