Page 150 of Noel Secrets

“No, I mean, yes, I did take his money and promise him part of the inheritance, but I never meant it. I never thought he would go through with it. I just … I just … needed the cash.”

Her heart sank at his confession. He’d sold her out to feed his addiction.

He rubbed his face as true regret filled his eyes. “I know what I did can’t be forgiven, and I plan to turn myself in to the police and tell them everything. But I wanted you to know that I’m so sorry.”

Tears filled her eyes. She knew he wouldn’t wish her dead, but his problems had nearly cost her life. “I know you’re sorry, Brent. Turning yourself in and getting help is a good first step. David still needs his father.”

He nodded. “I will. I’ll get help. And you don’t have to worry. I’ll tell the police how Rushton hired men to kill you. He’ll go to jail, and you and David will be safe.”

She appreciated his promise.

Suddenly, something burst through the window and whizzed past her face, slamming into the wall.

Someone was shooting at her.

Time slowed as Brent cried out, “No!”

He pushed himself between her and the window as several more shots fired in rapid succession.

Darby dropped to the floor and covered her head as Hercules barked and whelped.

The gunfire stopped.

Darby crawled over to Brent, lying unmoving on the floor. His eyes were vacant and four bullet holes singed his shirt.

Sorrow washed over her. She hadn’t wanted this to happen. All she’d ever wanted was for him to get his life together. Tears streamed down her face and sobs wracked her.

Brent had saved her life and paid with his own.

One good thing about small towns was that it took very little time to reach your destination.

The call had come from a patrol officer who’d spotted Brent at the inn. Clay had tried to call Darby’s phone to warn her, but she hadn’t picked up, so he’d hopped into the SUV with Chief Dean to go to the scene.

Hearing the officer’s update that shots had been fired had wrecked him. Knowing that he’d left her there alone, and Brent had found her.

God, please let her be okay.

Clay tried her cell phone again, but she still didn’t answer. Not a good sign.

Dean jerked to a stop in front of room where several other cruisers were parked. They both hopped out and Dean stopped for an update from the patrol officer while Clay hurried into the hotel room without waiting to hear the report, his heart pounding against his chest as he feared what he would see.

He saw the bullet holes through the window before he reached the door. The handle was unlocked—another bad sign. He held his breath as he pushed open the door and saw the figure on the floor.

Brent. Dead.

Darby was hunched over him, crying, while the dog was whining and pawing at her, trying to get her attention.

She heard Clay and glanced up, eyes red and her face streaked. She leaped to her feet and ran to him. He swept her up in his arms, but seeing her alive didn’t stop his pulse from racing as he held her. “Darby, are you hurt?”

She clung to him, sobs still taking over her as she tried to explain what had just happened. “Shots through the window…he stepped in front…saved me.”

He tightened his hold on her at this information. Brent had stepped up at the last minute, and for that, he was grateful.

Clay glanced at the window then at Chief Dean, who stood in the doorway. He led Darby from her room and into his, leaving her on the bed while he spoke with the chief. “I’ll be right back,” he assured her.

“Looks like the shots came from the parking lot,” Dean said, inspecting the window as Clay returned. “He must have been sitting in a car. My team is getting the security feeds from the office to identify the vehicle he shot from.”

“I need to get Darby out of here,” Clay said, and the chief nodded.