Page 81 of Brutal Ice

Got you.

He surged through the corn stalks and tackled his prey. The man let out a sharp cry as he hit the ground.

Royal spun him over, he brought up his gun, and he put it right in the middle of the prick’s face.

“No!” Micah Wright cried out. “Don’t shoot!”

“You’re dead,” Royal told him. And he squeezed the?—

A hard voice thundered, “Freeze!”

Royal stiffened. He didn’t drop his weapon. Hell, no, he didn’t.

That hard, familiar voice continued, “Royal, put down the gun. Do not shoot him. That’s an order—from your friend and from a police detective.”

Because the voice shouting orders? It belonged to Detective Curran Barlow.

Slowly, Royal turned his head toward Curran. The detective had just shoved through the twisting corn stalks.

“I know what you’ve been doing,” Curran gritted. “It ends, now.”

“You shouldn’t be out here,” Royal told him.

“Neither should you.”

Micah squirmed beneath Royal. Royal was on top of the bastard, with one hand slammed against his chest and the other holding the gun dead center on Micah’s face.

“H-help me,” Micah gasped.

“That’s what I’m doing,” Curran snapped.

The moonlight showed that the detective had his gun up—and aimed at Royal.

“I’m not as dirty as you think,” Curran said. “I don’t just turn a blind eye to murder.”

Micah whimpered. “I-I’m…hurt…st-stabbed…”

Royal’s teeth ground together. “She stabbed you, asshole. When you tried to hurt her.” His head whipped back to Micah. He glared down at the bastard. “You thought you’d take Violet from me? The only thing you’ll be doing is going to hell.”

“Don’t!” Curran roared. “Don’t make me shoot you, Royal! I’ll do it! Dammit! I’ll shoot you in the back if that’s what you make me do!”

“He’s crazy!” Micah screeched. “I’m here…Simone c-called me…was…just attacked…Someone…knife…” His words ended in a wail. “I’m bleeding! Get…help!”

“Violet is the one who stabbed you,” Royal threw right back. “Because you attacked her. You killed all those other women. You are going straight to hell.”

Grass and corn stalks crunched as Curran advanced. “If what you’re saying is true, Royal, then a judge and jury can decide his fate. You don’t get to do it. Put down the gun.”

Royal smiled at Micah. “There’s no need for the judge and jury.”

“Royal!” Curran roared his name. “Don’t make me do this! Put down the gun. Put it down or I will?—”

“Royal!”

His whole body jerked.

“Royal, help me!” Violet screamed.

He lunged up and off Micah. But then Micah immediately scuttled away. The prick made it to his feet. No, no.

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