Page 55 of Lone Star Country Protector
A burst of hope filled Blakely’s chest. Dalton’s sister was alive!
The realization gave her a boost. After bringing her chin to her chest, she threw her head back in one quick motion, connecting the back of her skull with his left jaw. A crack sounded as pain shot through her and a trickle ran down the back of her neck. Blood?
Better his than hers. However, she didn’t connect with his nose. His jaw wouldn’t bleed.
The blood had to belong to her.
Closing in on Jules’s vehicle, Blakely wondered what this man had done to the marshal to make her sit so still. Until she got close enough to see the look of panic in Jules’s eyes and the beads of sweat trickling down the side of her face.
“What the hell have you done to her?” she demanded.
Hoodie chuckled. The evil sound vibrated through her.
“You will behave from here on out, or she’ll goboom.” Those words cut through Blakely with the precision of a knife.
A bomb.
Jules was strapped to a bomb. It made sense now why she wasn’t so much as turning her head despite the fact she had to know they were coming at her from the driver’s side, and they were only a foot or two from the door. Jules’s gaze was focused forward. Tension tightened the muscles of her neck and shoulders like an overstrung cello.
Now it made sense.
Icy fingers of panic gripped Blakely’s chest.
“I’m the one you want. Let her go,” she reasoned.
“Not a chance,” he said with amusement. This was funny to him? The man was comfortable killing others, so he was most likely a lifetime criminal.
“How much are you being paid?” she asked for the second time.
“More than you can afford.” His voice raked through her. “This is your own fault. You had to fight back, didn’t you? Now you’re a liability.”
What the hell did that mean?
A liability?
Wasn’t she the intended target?
“You have no idea how much money I have or what I’m capable of,” she shot back. Keeping him talking was a stall tactic. He didn’t seem to realize she was giving Dalton time to miss them and wonder what had happened.
Would he figure it out too late?
“You messed everything up, and now you have to pay,” Hoodie said through clenched teeth. She’d hoped to crack a molar with the backward headbutt. Give him a fraction of the pain he was causing. “And you need to go to sleep so you can’t cause any more trouble.”
“The woman sitting in the car is a US marshal,” she said out of desperation.
“And you’re a judge,” he snapped. “So what? Neither one of you are in control now, are you?”
Blakely made mental notes just in case by some miracle she survived. He was someone who resented the legal system. Someone who’d done time? Possibly with Johnny Spear?
She didn’t recognize him as someone she’d sentenced, but that didn’t mean much considering her caseload.
“Johnny’s broke,” she said in the equivalent of throwing spaghetti against the wall to see if it stuck. “I don’t care what he promised you. He won’t be able to deliver. I’m worth nothing, and you’ll go to jail for him.”
“You’re right about one thing,” he said before adding, “You’re worthless. In the way.”
In the way.
Of what? A payoff?
