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The gun pressed harder against his head, and Ronan clenched his teeth.
“I was going to drive you out to that reservoir and kill you, but I changed my mind. Because I saw those curtains move earlier, same as you did. I bet she’s looking right now. And I’m going to make sure that she stays inside while you die—that she watches while they drag your body from this car. I’m going to kill you the same way I killed Sanchez, and she’ll know that I fucking won—that I always win.”
Daniel lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ll never stop coming for her. She’ll always be mine.”
The safety clicked off. The roar of a bullet exploded through the car’s interior.
Then Ronan heard no more.
Chapter 27
Juliette
The first crack of gunshot stopped her heart. The second made her belly clench so hard that bile burned at the base of her esophagus. But she hadn’t seen a muzzle flash. Shouldn’t she have seen one? Had Daniel shot him in the gut? Through the back of his seat, into his heart?
Oh god. She couldn’t see. Too dark at the back of the lot. It was all so damn dark.
Tears stung her eyes. The officer raised his hands from his spot in front of the door, a spindly guy with thick fingers and a permanent scowl that deepened when Juliette plowed straight into him. She sidestepped his stocky legs and hit the jamb. He stumbled, reached for her again, but apparently decided better of it as she flung the door wide and escaped into the night.
“Ronan!”
Her scream echoed through the lot. She hadn’t seen any other officers from inside the motel, but they were sure as hell there now, rushing from the other rooms toward Ronan’s car. The redheaded man from the room beside hers was fastest of all, racing past the streetlight as a bright yellow ambulance shrieked around the side of the building, sirens blazing.
“Ronan!” she shouted again, but she couldn’t hear the word over the terrified voice in her brain: Please don’t be dead. Please don’t let him be dead. Please, please, please.
The paramedic parked at the front of the lot and leaped out—tall with dark, curly hair. The ambulance’s headlights were aimed at Ronan’s car, turning the scene into a stark tableau of harsh light and deep shadow. Juliette stopped beneath the streetlight. Why wasn’t the ambulance parking nearer the back? Was it already too late?
Panic froze the blood in her veins. Her face was wet—she felt the dampness on her neck. Oh god, Ronan’s been shot, Daniel killed him.
The redheaded man skidded to a stop beside Ronan’s car—the one in the Van Halen T-shirt. Gun aimed at the window. He flung open the backdoor, shouted something. Then a body was sliding out, birthed from the backseat, slimed with blood.
Even from here, she could tell that his right arm was wounded, a massive chunk of flesh missing above the elbow. Gore covered the right side of his shirt from ribs to shoulder. But his face was still aimed at the asphalt.
Her lungs filled with acrid air, her jaw releasing, but her heart was throbbing so hard that she could barely breathe, definitely couldn’t swallow. She watched as the officer grabbed the man on the asphalt and clipped the cuffs onto his wrists, injured arm be damned.
The redhead finally flipped the man onto his back. “You have the right to remain silent…”
The officer went on, but she could no longer hear him. Daniel.
His face was splattered with blood, but it was definitely him. She’d recognize that scowl anywhere.
“Get the gurney,” someone called across the lot just as the front door opened. Her breath caught.
“His legs ain’t broken,” Ronan said to the redheaded cop, emerging from the driver’s seat. “Make him fucking walk.”
Relief flooded Juliette’s body, turning her legs to jelly, but she stumbled closer as if to verify that what she was seeing was real, that her eyes weren’t deceiving her.
He’s alive. He’s alive. Oh god, he’s really okay!
“Also… ‘Yeah, you better be’?” Ronan rolled his eyes about the officer’s earlier comment, and this made the redhead smile as Ronan kicked his door shut.
Daniel was still lying on the asphalt, eyes staring at the sky or perhaps at the medic, who was now kneeling at his side. The redheaded officer waved her off and jerked Daniel’s shirt, hauling him to his feet.
Daniel groaned, and a high-pitched bark of laughter burst from her core—years of pent-up fury and terror exploding in a single moment of pure joy. The medic glanced over, eyes wide. Juliette clapped her hands over her mouth.
He could still get away with it. But she didn’t think he would. Daniel had spent years breaking her spirit, making her feel helpless, worthless, and Ronan had stoked what little spark of hope she still had into a full-fledged wildfire. Daniel was fucking finished. She’d never been so certain of anything.
Juliette stepped nearer, fear dissolving as she approached the front bumper. Daniel glanced over. His eyes narrowed. Then his lips peeled back in a snarl, and he lurched forward, spitting and cussing.