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“Drop it,” Keaton said.
“You shoot me, I’ll shoot either you or her, it doesn’t matter.” Mallary laughed.
Bang!
“No,” Trinity whispered.
Keaton’s body flung backward.
Bang!
Dawson appeared at the door. “Mallary’s down. I need help with Trinity, and will someone please help Keaton? I don’t need to hear his moaning.”
“He’s been shot.” Trinity tried to scramble to her feet, but everything spun around her like she was on that stupid ride at the amusement park that made her vomit every single time. “He’s not moaning. He’s dying.”
“No, I’m not,” Keaton said with more of a breathless groan than anything else. He crawled to the opening. “I need help getting this damn thing off. I can’t freaking breathe.”
“Is he always this big of a baby?” Chloe came up behind Keaton while Dawson knelt beside Trinity.
“Take it easy.” Dawson forced her to sit back at the table. He flashed a light in her eyes. “You definitely have a concussion, and that nose is broken. You popped a few stitches, and it looks like she got you with a knife in the thigh.”
Suddenly, her leg burned.
She glanced down, and her entire body screamed at her as if she’d walked into a minefield. But she honestlydidn’t care. “Keaton!” She grabbed Dawson by the shirt. “Why isn’t anyone?—”
“Babe, I’m fine.” Keaton tore some big vest thing off his chest. He tapped on it. “Chloe and her friends made us all wear these things. I just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all. Not even a scratch.” He took her by the chin, tilting her head, and grimaced. “You, on the other hand…well, you might need a plastic surgeon.”
“Lucky for me, my daddy’s rich.” She stared into his sweet eyes. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. I thought you were dead.”
“I’ll try not to.” Gently, he kissed her forehead.
She glanced over her shoulder. Dawson was now kneeling over Mallary. “Is she…”
Dawson nodded. “It couldn’t be helped.”
“You should know she confessed to two other murders.” Trinity leaned into Keaton’s strong body as he lifted her off the bench.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dawson sighed. “You can tell me all about it after a doctor has seen you and you’ve had a chance to visit with your dad.”
“My father? He’s okay?” she asked.
“We just got word he’s in recovery, and he’s going to be just fine.” Keaton carried her up the small set of stairs and out into the warm Florida air. The two men who had been on the boat with Mallary were lying in pools of blood.
A bunch of official-looking people were huddled in the corner of the vessel, chatting with Chloe and Hayes. She had no idea who they were, but she’d be forever grateful to them.
“I don’t think I’ll ever ask for anything exciting to happen in my life again,” she whispered. “And I could use a vacation.”
“How does Oregon sound?”
“Boring,” she said. “Let’s go.”
“My cousin Foster will love that.” Keaton handed her to a burly Coast Guard man before hopping onto their vessel. They laid her down on a stretcher, and another man began poking and prodding at her, checking her vitals and all that stuff.
She took Keaton’s hand. “And Fenton? How does he fit into all of this?”
“One of her pawns, and while I still don’t like the guy, he’s not responsible for this.”
She palmed his cheek. “How bad do I look?”