Page 121 of Jagger

Jagger.

It had to be.

He’d done this.

Another lurch of emotions brought a single sob. No. I wasn’t going to do this. He did care about me. At least I could take comfort in the incredible thought.

A moment of utter joy and relief swept through me. Did it destroy the utter despair from losing the clinic? To a small degree. Eager to tell Jagger about the new information, I jerked up and rushed inside.

Instantly, I knew something was terribly wrong.

Joel was making good on his threat.

The back door was open.

Furniture knocked over.

The house had nearly been torn apart.

And blood.

CHAPTER 33

Jagger

A fool’s walk.

That’s what I was currently taking by allowing the fight to escalate.

I’d met Harrison Young, the sheriff’s son only twice, neither time worth writing home about. However, he was a frequent flyer at Shackles, including the day his father had been in the place. He didn’t like me and that had been apparent the first time I’d met him. He looked just like the sheriff, only a younger version.

He was also just as surly, his father having to keep him out of jail given his record of fighting to solve situations.

However, Harrison had never come across as particularly violent.

Until moments before.

The second I’d opened the front door, he’d declared me a murderer and issued two hard punches. Things had gotten out ofhand after that. He’d attempted to use a knife, managing to stab me in the arm. That’s when I’d taken it away from him.

Only the blade hadn’t been his only weapon. He kept a Ruger pointed at me as he forced me to walk deep into the woods. I’d only gone to buy time.

“So what’s your plan, Harrison? Kill me out here and bury the body?”

“That’s a good plan. Don’t you think?”

“I didn’t kill Sheila.”

“You as good as did.”

“You weren’t there. You have no clue what we’d both gone through.” For both Adam and his son to find out any details of her death and my subsequent rescue would mean the sheriff had friends in the Army. Of course the fact I’d nearly been court-martialed hadn’t helped.

“It doesn’t matter what happened to you. I hope like hell the enemy tortured your ass.”

I gritted my teeth, carefully scanning the area. I’d walked these woods a few dozen times in sunlight and in the snow. There were miles of forest, the two closest houses still a mile away on either side. No one would hear the shot or if they did, they’d just think a hunter was out killing deer.

With my weapons locked up, I had nothing to defend myself with.

The only thing I could try to do was disarm him.

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