Page 62 of Drowning Her

“You can go first,” he muttered.

He aimed his gun. I shoved him out of the way. The gun went off, and this time Sawyer pegged me to the ground. I held his shoulders, my fingers ripping into his skin. Maisie’sshadow moved in the background. She needed my gun. I kept my eyes locked on Sawyer.

“You could finish this right now if you wanted,” Forrest shouted. Who was he talking to? Me? Or Sawyer? “What are you waiting for?”

Sawyer and I studied each other. Neither of us blinked. Gray-blue eyes inherited from our father. With each second, the truth became clearer. Sawyer’s final kill wasn’t Maisie.

It was me.

And he hadn’t killed me, or Maisie, yet.

Sawyer narrowed his eyes, both of us exchanging an unspoken agreement. We weren’t rivals; we were brothers.

A bullet cracked through the air.

Maisie gaped, her hand shaking with the gun. Forrest flung himself toward her, his cheek bleeding. Latched onto her. Aimed his gun at her heart. Pulled back the hammer.

I hurled myself into him. Squeezed his throat until his face was purple. Blood drenched the side of his face, but he reached out, clutching my neck, crushing my windpipe. Lights flashed in my peripheral vision. Maisie’s shouts dulled. Her scent in my nose. But I didn’t let go of Forrest. It was the only thing I had left to do.

As long as Maisie was safe.

A bullet whistled past me, nailing Forrest’s chest. Forrest’s eyes met mine, blank and cold. Then he turned to gaze at the shooter.

Sawyer held the gun, aimed at our father.

I let go of Forrest and shielded Maisie with my body, not letting anything come near her.

Chapter 23

Maisie

Forrest’s bodycrashed to the floor. Wilder held me close, his thick, strong arms wrapped around me like a shield. I took a deep breath, willing myself to look at Forrest and Sawyer, but Wilder’s arms were so tight that I couldn’t move. His eyes were bloodshot. His lips swollen. But he was okay. He was alive. And I was too.

But that didn’t mean everyone was okay.

“Bambi,” I whispered.

Wilder glanced at his father, confirming he was dead, then stood, helping me up. I ran to her side, holding her carefully in my lap. Blood crusted her forehead, her eyes closed.

“We need to get her help,” I said. “Now.”

Wilder looked at Sawyer.

“Done,” Sawyer said. He dialed a number on his phone. Then Wilder went to a locked cabinet. He removed a first aid kit and handed it to me. I fumbled it open, peeling through the items, trying to figure out whatwould be best. The alcohol swab? I found one, then held a bandage to the cut.

Then a thought crossed my mind: this was the Dairy Barn. How often did Wilder need a first aid kit in his executioner’s den?

Bambi’s lips quivered. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She tried raising her brow. “Who the hell—” she winced at the pain, “—did you marry?” A grin twitched across her face and quickly fell. I laughed softly, trying not to move too much. She smiled back at me, her whole face scrunched up. Wilder unlocked the doors to the barn, and a few of the ranchers came toward us.

“Come on,” one of them said. “We have to move you to the main area. Make it seem like an accident.”

“I can’t pay for an ambulance,” Bambi said.

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. The million dollars Forrest owed me had to come from somewhere.

They gently carried her, placing her next to the barn. The plan was to make it look like she had been bucked off of a horse, even though they didn’t have any. A minute later, the ambulance arrived. Gingerly, the paramedics took Bambi up to the vehicle. Wilder squeezed my shoulder.

---