Kaye
“I’m sorry,” I heard as an odd dragging noise sounded behind me. The voice had pulled me out of an unconscious state.
It sounded like John’s voice.
There was a long patch of silence—so long that I thought I had dreamt hearing the voice. But then there was the dragging sound again, and I felt a hand on my head. “I’m sorry, Kaye.”
It was John’s voice. But I had no idea what was wrong with him. He didn’t sound right. His voice, usually strong and deep, was raspy and little more than a whisper.
“I can’t pick you up,” he said. But he was able to pull the bag from my head. Not that it helped much. It was pitch black. I still couldn’t see a thing.
The rope that held the gag in my mouth went slack, and I pushed on the material with my tongue, expelling it. I took a deep breath; it seemed forever since I had that much oxygen.
“John,” I exhaled his name. “What’s going on?”
The dragging sound came again, and then I could see the man who had been our bodyguard for the last few years. He lay on the floor in front of me, and I could just make out a dark patch on the front of his shirt. Had he been shot?
“Kaye,” his voice but a whisper. He trailed a finger along my cheek. “This wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“John, what did you do?” I searched his dark eyes frantically, trying to find some answers to the millions of questions flying around my mind.
“I fell in love with you is what I did.” He closed his eyes then, and his hand fell away from my face.
“John!” I said as loud as I could to try to wake him back up.
I had no idea what he was talking about. Falling in love with me made no sense at all. When his eyes opened, he said, “We both did.”
“You both?” I asked. “You and Jeffrey fell in love with me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
He nodded, moving his head only once. “I’m not going to make it, Kaye.”
“Where’s Jeffrey?” I asked, but I had a feeling that I already knew the answer to that. Obviously, those were gunshots that I’d heard earlier, and these two had traded those shots.
“Dead.” His eyes closed again. “I’m sorry, Kaye. I am.”
I didn’t have time for his apologies. “Can you take the cuffs off me, John?”
“He has the key,” came his answer.
I knew he had used up nearly all of his energy to get to me. There would be no way John could drag himself back to wherever Jeffrey was to get the key and get back to me. “Do you have a cell phone on you?”
“We left them in the car,” came his reply.
“What is it that you two were going to do to me, John?” I had to know.
“Not sure.” A gurgle came out of his mouth, and I knew he had very little time left. “Both wanted you—neither can have—both lost.”
David had been right after all. I couldn’t believe it. And I couldn’t believe that the two men who I had trusted so much could do a thing like this to me.
As a nurse, I had great empathy for most people. But I had none for the man who lay dying in front of me. “How could you two do this to me? You claim you fell in love with me, yet you did this to me? I may never get out of here alive! Do you realize that?”
His eyes opened suddenly, and he reached out to me, placing his hand on my shoulder and leaving it there. It was heavy, already feeling like dead weight. “Yes. Now you’ll be with me forever, Kaye. Mine forever. I won.”
His hand went tight on my shoulder as he pulled himself close to me. I could smell the blood on him. It made me gag, and I cried out, “Get away from me!”
Snuggling his head against my chest, he put his arm around me, holding me. “Mine.” A soft gurgle met my ears before his body shook horridly, and I felt warm liquid on my chest.
“John!” I shouted.
It was too late. He’d taken his last breath and blood poured from his mouth onto me.
All I could do was cry as I lay there, helpless in the dead man’s grip. Despair filled me, took me under, and then enveloped me completely. I felt as if I was drowning.
I hadn’t seen any sign that either man cared for me. How could they have hidden it so well? Or had they?
Thinking back, I recalled overhearing the two as they argued over something. Or had it been someone?
“I should steal her away from that asshole,” John had said.
Then Jeffery retorted, “You? Not you. I should, though.”
There was some shoving, and I heard it in the next room where they were. I walked in and found them arguing and pushing each other around. They stopped as soon as they saw me, both apologizing to me.
Had that fight been over me? Had they been talking about stealing me away from David?
Maybe I had been blind to what was happening around me. Maybe David wasn’t being a jealous jackass. Maybe there was some truth to what he saw—at least where our bodyguards were concerned.
All I knew for sure was that if I made it out of this alive, my husband would be getting a huge apology.