Page 27

The scream building in my throat was only kept at bay by terror and the desperate hope that Dawson was somehow still alive. And if he wasn’t… My fingers curled tightly around the grip of his gun and I squeezed it until pain flashed up my arm, clearing my head. Whoever Wilson had sent after us—however they’d tracked us down—they would pay for what they’d done.

After the onslaught of shooting ceased, careful footsteps crunched through the leaf litter toward the camper, and I watched them through the gap beneath it. The slow creak of the door cut through the silence and my ragged breathing before the shooter cautiously climbed a step. Then another. Then another.

The feet disappeared altogether, and new panic overtook me. Whatever they did or didn’t find awaiting them inside, I most definitely wasn’t. They’d come looking for me, which meant I only had one shot to use the element of surprise. With any luck, they’d never see me coming—but I’d make damn sure my face was the last thing they ever saw before I shot them dead.

A muffled curse rang out from the silver camper, and angry footfalls followed close behind. The shooter jumped from the doorway and landed hard on the ground. A head dropped to look underneath the camper, a gun with a flashlight attached sweeping the area. I shrunk down behind the tree and waited for my eyes to readjust after that assault.

I could hear them walking around the far side of the trailer, taking the beam of light with them. I blinked a few times to clear my vision and shifted my body to face where they’d likely reappear. The flashlight would be a problem if they aimed it my direction, but I was nearly on the opposite side, so I hoped I’d have enough time to get a shot off before it found me.

As they neared the corner, I leveled Dawson’s gun and removed the safety. I slipped my finger over the trigger, and the cool metal welcomed me like an old friend. With a steadying breath, I relaxed my grip and focused on where the target was about to step into view—just like the fed had taught me.

The wide band of light grew larger still as a leg stepped out from behind the metal wall. “For Dawson,” I whispered to the wind as I trained my sights on the dark silhouette emerging from the shadows.

Then something crashed in the woods.

The sound startled us both, our collective attention snapping to the spot it had come from, beyond me toward the river. A hand clamped over my mouth while another disarmed me with ease before looping around my waist to yank me deeper into the forest. I wheeled around, ready to fight, but went stock-still the moment my eyes found Dawson staring back at me, forehead pale and glistening in the dim moonlight.

“I know you’re out there…” That menacing voice held a familiarity that clawed into the back of my mind and wouldn’t let go. “We can do this the hard way if you want, but it’s going to end the same no matter what. Would it help if I promised to make it a clean death?”

“We need to get to the truck,” Dawson whispered in my ear before glancing back at the figure lurking along the edge of the woods, where I could only imagine Dawson had thrown something to create a distraction. “ Now .”

I didn’t stop to ask the million questions running through my mind. He grabbed my hand and skirted the near side of the camper, careful to keep hidden from sight; and we would have if he hadn’t been so weak and hadn’t misjudged his step over a fallen oak. His toes snagged the trunk, sending him staggering forward as he tried to catch his balance, bringing me along with him until he finally let me go. We stumbled out of the woods and collapsed on the ground in the open, while the gun Dawson had taken from me skittered under the camper.

Rather than gunshots, an evil laugh rang out through the night.

“He said it would be easy, but this? This is just embarrassing.” That voice… Blinding light beamed at us as we tried to shelter our eyes. “Ouch, Dawson. That looks painful. In fact, you don’t look so great. Wilson said he shot you, but it must be worse than he expected.”

“ Jamieson ,” Dawson all but growled in response. “Why am I not surprised it’s you?”

“Because you’re too smart for your own good, which is exactly why you find yourself in your current predicament. You flew too close to the sun and got burned.”

“Did you know all along?” Dawson asked as he forced himself to his feet. “Did you know it was Wilson?”

Jamieson cut the flashlight, and once my eyes adapted, I found a serpent’s smile slashed across his face. “Long enough.”

“It was you who called Dr. Chin,” I said, rising to join Dawson. “You canceled that appointment.”

“I did.”

“What was the plan? Kill her there?”

Disappointment flashed in his expression. “I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“A promotion.” Power, money, jealousy, revenge… The lowest hanging fruit of the hierarchy of motives was enough to have us staring down the barrel of his gun. “Putting in that call wasn’t enough to earn it, but taking out Bellucci was. And once I stop the two fugitive cop killers, it’ll only solidify my standing. I’ll be a hero in the public’s eyes, too.”

Dawson wavered on his feet and threw his arm around my shoulders as he stumbled into me. I caught him awkwardly and struggled to bear his weight as his head lolled to mine.

“Back pocket,” he whispered as he slowly lifted his head. I braced my left hand against his stomach, making a show of holding him up while my right fumbled along his ass, searching for what I prayed was a gun. My palm bumped up against something cold and metal and definitely shaped like the butt of a pistol, and I carefully extracted it while Jamieson droned on.

“Now, I can’t just shoot you execution-style,” he said, stepping closer, “so I’m going to need you two to let go of each other and play along a little to make this look good for the news.” Dawson’s fingers dug into my shoulder, telling me to get ready. There was no way I could get the gun to him without being obvious, but the moment he pulled away from me, feigning compliance, my arm would have a clear shot at the crooked fed. “Let’s move, Dawson. I can’t exactly drag your body down to the river afterward.”

Jamieson grabbed Dawson by his bad arm and ripped him away from me.

And in that split second, I raised the gun and squeezed the trigger until his body jerked and fell to the ground—making me the only real cop killer in the Danners clan.

Then Dawson was at my side, muttering something to me in a soft voice as he reached for the gun I was still attempting to fire. “Kylene,” he said softly, his tone one you would use on a cornered, panicked animal, “let me have the gun. He’s not going to hurt us now.”

His words broke me from my stupor, and I looked over to find his brow furrowed with worry. It eased a second later, and he forced a smile that I believed in that moment. I let him pull the gun from my hand, and he quickly tucked it in the back of his pants.

“Is he…did I…”

“You did what you had to do and nothing more. It was self-defense. He’d have shot us both if you hadn’t.”

“Okay…okay…”

“Kylene, I know this is a lot to take in, but we have to go right now. Are you okay enough to drive?’

“Yeah…I’ll be fine. I just need a second to wrap my head around this.”

“We don’t have a second. We need to go.” Those hazel eyes assessed me for a moment before he collected Jamieson’s flashlight and gun, as well as his own that had tumbled under the camper. With a deep breath, he forced himself back to his feet.

I ran back into the camper to salvage whatever I could that hadn’t been shot to bits. One bottle of water had survived, and a few things from the emergency kit. I grabbed a couple blankets for good measure, then peeled off Gramps’ flannel jacket as I ran toward Dawson, who stood shivering in the cold night air.

“Put this on,” I said, helping to slip it over his wounded arm. “You’re going to freeze to death.”

“I imagine something else will get me before that, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“Don’t say that,” I said, staring back at him with the fear of what I’d thought I’d witnessed playing over in my mind. “I thought you were dead, Dawson. I thought Wilson had finally won—”

“I know,” he replied, his tone grim. “I saw the look in your eyes as you were about to shoot Jamieson and I knew.”

“Knew what?

“That you were toeing the line of no return.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same if it had been me in there? If you’d thought I’d been shot up and died?”

Something dark and cold flashed in his eyes. “You don’t want to know what I would have done. Now, are you good to drive or not? Because I don’t think I’m going to last long once this adrenaline wears off.”

“Yeah,” I said, as he handed me the keys, “I’m good.”

“Great, then let’s get the fuck out of here.”