Well, no Warrick, but there was a truck there, ready to take me away.
I had to think on my feet, which was why I dropped to my knees, yanked the knife out of my boot, and stabbed Drayton in the back of his thigh. He howled, but I was up and running in seconds, racing up the hill.
My gut instinct told me to go up. Fast. Up and up until I found—and I stumbled into—a wide cemetery, empty as midnight.
“Get back here, bitch,” Drayton snarled. “There is nowhere to run.”
“Not if I can help it, psycho,” I panted beneath my breath as a large mausoleum, wondering if there was somewhere to hide?—
And then three trucks burst through the clearing. Warrick hit the ground running even before one of them stopped, and he plowed into Drayton like a mad bull, taking him down to the ground. Drayton knocked away the punch, but Warrick drove in again. A barrage of jabs and crosses had Drayton on the ground.
He managed to get out and under, flinging a hit to Warrick that dislodged him. I spotted Drayton’s gun in the dirt and lurched for it. While the two flung punches, Drayton landed a blow to Warrick’s temple and sent him reeling and—tripping on his feet.
He spun around to look for the gun, but I cocked it at him. “Stop, or I’ll shoot.”
“You don’t have the balls to shoot me,” he taunted.
“But I do,” Boyne said, coming to my side, his gun trained on the man.
I know the lawman wouldn’t shoot unprovoked. For all this shit this man had put me through, I lowered the gun—but my finger pulled the trigger and splintered Drayton’s knee. I dropped the gun as Drayton howled. “T-that was an accident.”
Boyne smirked at me. “Of course it was. Guys, get him in cuffs.”
An FBI officer came forward and cuffed Drayton while I looked over my shoulder and spotted another agent who had the driver of Drayton’s truck handcuffed and on his knees.
Warrick came over to me, hobbling on his bad leg, but still came to wrap me up in a long, tight hug. I wanted to collapse in relief and exhaustion. My legs were rubber, my hands scratched and bruised, my head pounding with pain.
“I am so proud of you, sweetheart,” he murmured in my ear. “When I got that call and heard Drayton on the other end, I wanted to rip something apart. Thank you for whatever you did that made it so we could get up here in time.”
I leaned into him. “He was only thinking to get me out of here. He didn’t think to check for my cell or the knife I had, and I am happy he was so scatterbrained. I’m just glad you are here. Can we go home? Please.”
Boyne came to my side. “We’ll be calling you to HQ to give your statement in a few weeks, but for now, you two can go home with the relief that this asshole is not lingering over your head anymore. Get in the truck…we’ll drive you to your home.”
As we stepped in, I saw dawn begin to break over the trees. I pressed myself into Warrick’s side, hoping and praying that this was symbolic of a new life beginning for me and, hopefully, Warrick.
“Warrick…”
“Hm?”
“I think I’m falling in love with you,” I said.
He kissed my forehead. “Funny you should say that because I am damn sure I’m already there. You have two months by the end of summer to catch up, sweetheart.”
I laughed. “I think I can manage that. As long as you promise to teach me how to shoot.”
“Deal.”
Epilogue
Warrick
Two-and-a-half months later….
“Hell in a handbasket, this heat is killing me,” Frankie grumbled, swiping his hat off and wiping his forehead.
He wasn’t wrong.
Even though it was heading to six, the last time I checked it was 117° F; one of the hottest temps in Montana in decades. I couldn’t wait for this day to end and go home because Zoe was coming back tonight.