Page 83 of Mountain Rescue
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You okay, sugar?” Dallas was asking her that question entirely too often because of this bastard. He called on every bit of his discipline to keep from shooting Hargrove and then scooping Rachel up in his arms, never letting her go. Keeping his weapon trained on Hargrove, he stepped next to her.
Bella had led him straight to them, and when he’d heard their voices before getting eyes on them, he’d had to force himself to not rush in and reveal his presence. If Hargrove knew he was here, Dallas didn’t want to think what the man would do. Well, he knew what Hargrove would have done. He’d have killed her.
When she’d goaded Hargrove into chasing her, his heart had about stopped. From his vantage point, he couldn’t see the trip line she’d rigged, and he’d taken aim, ready to take Hargrove down. Before he could fire, the man had fallen on his face. Then Rachel had bashed him in the head with a perfectly aimed rock. He chuckled. His girl had a thing about braining people.
“No, I’m not okay. Take this, please.”
She held the gun out, and he took it from her shaking hand. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”
“Not going to argue that, but I’m done with being amazing, okay?”
She would always be amazing to him. He stuck the gun she gave him into his waistband but kept his pointed at Hargrove, then wrapped an arm around her and tucked her against his side. “I don’t think she likes him,” he said, lifting his chin toward Bella, who was busy growling at Hargrove.
“Smart dog. So, what do we do with him?”
He glanced down at her, noticing for the first time the cut and purple bruise on her swollen cheek. “What’s this? He do that do you?”
“Yeah, when he tried to shoot me but hit the tree in front of me instead. A piece of bark got me.”
“Can I kill him?”
She leaned her head against his chest. “Tempting, but I don’t think you’d look good in orange.”
Hargrove groaned as he pushed to his feet. He gave Bella a wary look, then his eyes slid to Rachel. Dallas wanted to kill the bastard if for no other reason than the way he looked at her.
His gaze landed on Dallas. “A million dollars if you let me walk away.”
Dallas snorted. “You’re going to walk all right, but it’s going to be straight to prison.” Between his trust fund, his investments, his share in the ranch, and his bank account, he was worth considerably more than a measly million. But even if he didn’t have a penny to his name, he wouldn’t touch the man’s money. He’d just as soon send Hargrove to hell.
“Two million.”
“Not interested. Start walking. If you try to run, I’ll shoot you, then let Bella have at you.” He took Rachel’s hand.
They’d only taken a few steps when she grunted. “Sorry. My feet are a little sore.”
He glanced down at her bare feet. “Where are your shoes?”
“I couldn’t run in sandals.” She lifted a foot, showing him the bottom. The sole was torn up and bleeding.
“Are you sure I can’t kill him?”
“Still tempting, but no.”
“You’re no fun.” He turned. “Climb on my back.”
“I can walk, just not fast.”
She wasn’t walking out of here on those feet. “On my back, sugar.” She sighed as if he was being unreasonable but slid her arms over his neck. “Wrap your legs around my waist.”
When they came around the corner of the cabin, Jack was leaning against the hood of his car, next to Deke. A dark blue car was parked behind Jack’s that he pegged as a typical detective’s vehicle. As they walked toward the men, a police cruiser pulled up and parked.
He poked Hargrove in the back with the barrel of his gun. “I do believe your chariot has arrived.”
Hargrove came to a sudden stop, turned, and glared past him at Rachel. “You should sleep with one eye open, bitch, because the day will come when you’ll be sorry you interfered in my business.”
Blood red rage tinged Dallas’s vision. He pried Rachel’s legs from around his waist and pulled her hands away from his neck, easing her down, then let his fist fly, sending the bastard to the ground.
