Jason

Cole groans in pain, dragging himself to sit up. “I’ve been shot. You shot me.”

It’s going to be a bloodbath, yet my mind keeps flicking back to Delilah.

Delilah and I didn’t fall in love slowly. Nothing came slow when it came to us. We fell fast and hard. I can’t lose her.

. . . The door flies open and Delilah stands there in all her innocent, yet fierce beauty. My hand is steady on the gun I’m aiming right at his heart as my heart sinks. “Get out,” I yell.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I see her flinch in response. Benson turns his gun on her. Fuck. His partner and I are still in a standoff. Benson yells at her, “Come here.”

I say, “Run.”

Benson laughs. “I’m not afraid to shoot a woman in the back.”

“You shoot her and there’s no reason for me to keep you alive.”

“Tough guy, huh?” He moves around to Delilah and grabs her by the arm. Her body is stiff, but she’s not fighting him.

What the fuck?

Fight.

I stare at her, wanting her to read my mind.

He laughs, yanking her in front of him and puts the gun to her head. His free hand dips from her neck to her breast. “Pretty girl. So this is Cutler’s ex-wife?” Looking at me, he adds, “No wonder you’re hanging around. Maybe I’ll have a taste before we leave. Before she dies.”

“You’ll die before you touch her again.”

“Really, pretty boy?”

The term grates my nerves, drudging memories of that gun to my head back in that alley years ago. My body tenses, and I grind the words out, “You and your partner will be dead before it registers with your brain.”

Cole is moaning. “Shoot them, Koster. Shoot them.” The asshole needs to shut the fuck up.

My finger twitches, causing Brooks to blink. I’ll win. I can kill him and have a bullet between Benson’s eyes a quarter second later. My target’s coming into focus. The room starts to turn gray.

“Jason?” The sweet voice of an angel wipes the gray away and brings me back to her. My eyes slide to Delilah’s. “Remember how you said it was us or them?”

I will never forget the night I killed that man. “I remember.” I don’t want her dead, but I don’t want her left to be tortured by these guys either if I’m killed. We’re stuck in this damn standoff like we have no chance at that happiness Delilah and I have talked about.

“This is one of those times,” she says. Why is she referencing our conversation about why I had to kill someone? Without regret. “A situation like this is why you made the decision you did, right?” Her words are fierce. Stronger than I thought possible.

I glance back at Brooks who yells, “Shut her up.” His hand is shaking. Mine is not. He doesn’t want to shoot me. What kind of money collector is this clown?

When I look back at Delilah, she’s not scared. She’s not shaking. She’s strong and almost relaxed, even though a gun is being held to her head. But I won’t let her die. “Yes, just like this.”

I’m just about to shoot Brooks when she says, “I understand why you did it now.” Before Benson can react, she shoves her elbow into his ribs and reaches down. Pulling a gun from her boot, she spins and shoots before he can aim his gun at her.

Brooks shoots when I roll to the side. The bullet penetrates the wood, and I aim over my shoulder, shooting him in the thigh, choosing to spare his life for the time being. I’m on my feet and over him. Cole is dragging his ass into the kitchen. “Get the fuck up and call the cops.”

Benson is wailing and Brooks is turning white. Standing side by side with Delilah, both of us facing in opposite directions with our guns aimed on these assholes, I say, “Nice shooting.” She’s going to be in shock. I need her to stay focused. Just for a little while longer.

Her hip bumps mine. “You’re not the only one who used to practice shooting with a BB gun.” And amazingly, she can even find humor in this. Who is this girl?

“It paid off.” I like her cockiness, but with Cole whining on the phone in the kitchen, we’re going to be here a while. This situation needs to be handled or contained. Directing them with my gun, I say, “Move over. Next to each other.”

Delilah turns with her gun still aimed on them. When they slide over, she takes a step back, letting me take over. Blood is messy. “You guys look like you might bleed out. This is where I give you a choice. You can either make sure you never come back to this town and our farm or I kill you and feed you to the fishes out back before the cops arrive. Which do you choose?”

Grabbing his leg in agony, Benson replies, “Our boss will kill us, so we’re already dead men. You need to let us go.”

“Can’t trust you.”

“I swear. We won’t. No one will. I’ve got a wife—”

Squatting down, I look him in his beady eyes. “You threatened my fiancée with bodily harm. You threatened her life. And now you beg for your life by telling me you have a wife?” He squirms under the intensity. “I have a good mind to take you out just for disrespecting her.”

“Don’t. Please. No trouble. For you.”

I add, “And her.”

“Yeah, and the broad. It’s Cutler we’re after.”

“Right.”

“We made a deal. There’s no going back on a deal.” We’ll see what sort of deal you get with the sheriff’s department.

I turn my attention to where it needs to be right now. Sirens sound in the distance. Red and blue lights flash across the fields and invade the living room. “You know I can’t let you go, but I’ll let you live. This time.” Fuck. I just want this nightmare to be over. I need to get to my girl.

* * *

“This gun is still registered to your daddy, Delilah. You need to file the proper paperwork to put it in your name.”

The farmhouse is shot up. Holes are in the walls, the floor, and in people. Cutler is in the ambulance on his way to the hospital, two gambling-ring criminals are also on their way to the hospital, and all Whaley’s concerned about is the proper paperwork for the gun Delilah used to protect us.

“I’ll take care of it this week,” she says. Paloma wraps a blanket around her. Delilah’s dress has dried from the warm night air, but when you’re up that high, running off adrenaline, the fall is sometimes chilling.

I take her hand. “Are you okay?”

“It’s just catching up with me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be fine.”

She’s not a good liar and at times like this I appreciate that fact. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I hold her while we finish giving our statements.

In towns like McKinney, the whole jail staff comes out for a lookieloo, so we’re grateful we don’t have to go down to the station. Three hours of questioning is quite enough. We’re repeating ourselves with each round. Delilah’s exhausted, so I wrap this up. “We’re done, Deputy. If you have more questions, you’ll have to contact our lawyer and set up a formal interview.”

Whaley scratches his chin. “I think we have enough to file our reports. If we don’t, we’ll be in touch.”

“What about your men inside?”

“They’ll be there all night. I suggest you find another place to stay for a few nights while we do our investigation.”

Delilah walks toward the fields and stands, staring out. With her arms crossed, I can tell she’s struggling and doesn’t want an audience. “Thank you, officers.” I walk to her, wishing I could make this all go away, like it never happened. Sometimes bad shit happens though. I hate that the outside made its way to the inside of our little piece of paradise. I don’t want to startle her, so I speak before reaching her, “Whaley said we could go.”

She glances back to me and then returns her eyes to the field. “Where can we go?”

“Anywhere we want.”

“Paloma said we could stay with them. She has a sewing room with a foldout couch.”

“Billy called. They wouldn’t let him on the property, but he said we’re welcome on his farm.” I move next to her but keep my eyes ahead.

“Your mom called me.” Taking my hand, she holds it. “She said she wants us to come over.”

“Tomorrow. How about I take you to a hotel so we can decompress?” We’ve had a lot happen and we’ve told the story more times than I care to tell again. “How about a room just for us?”

“Can we treat ourselves and get one with room service? I’m hungry. By the time we reach a hotel, I’ll be starved.”

“You can order the whole menu if you want.”

A sliver of a smile finds its way home on her pretty face. I’ll spend the night coaxing the full one out, though, as she deserves to smile.

An hour and a half later, we’re standing in our room and she’s staring at the tub, her tone full of disappointment. “Normally I’d take a bath to wind down.” Coming to sit on the bed next to me, she says, “I think I’ll skip it tonight.”

Almost drowning in one makes her reaction reasonable. Fucker. He’s stolen that from her too. “Sorry I wasn’t there sooner. I thought he’d run, not gone inside.”

“I thought he was on drugs. Now I’m thinking he was on a mission.” Resting against my chest, her arm drapes over my middle.

My arm curves around her back, holding her to me. “He only had one bullet in his gun, Delilah.” I don’t mean to sound ominous, but his intentions were clear.

“He was going to drown me.”

“And then kill himself.”

“His life is shit. He’s shit. I hate him so fucking much.”

Swearing doesn’t come natural to her. The words are distorted, dripping from a place that should never reside inside her heart—hate.

Sitting up, her palm presses over my heart, and she says, “What if you wouldn’t have found me in time?”

Caressing her cheek, I lean forward and kiss her. “You saved yourself. I have no doubt after the courage you showed tonight that you would still be here.”

“In your arms?” It’s an odd question, but the whole night was odd.

“I have everything to live for now, so no one’s taking me out that easily.”

Her smile returns, the light in her eyes smothering the darkness that tried to win, tried to take her hostage.

A knock on the door signals our room service. I hop up and let them push the cart of food inside. After tipping, we’re left alone with enough food to feed a small army. Her eyes are wide and my stomach growls. “Was the drive worth it?”

Grabbing a bowl of spaghetti, I can tell by the way she settles back on the bed and starts flicking through channels that she’s content . . . for now. “It was definitely worth it.”

I’ve been paid a shitload of money over the last few years. It gave me financial security. Something in the bank. But living within the confines of darkness, at times existing just outside the law, I didn’t have this. Contentment. With her, my girl, I’ve found it. Peace, solace, that no paycheck ever provided.

I’ll take this life over the last every day of the week and twice on Sundays. I reach for the steak because there’s no time like the present to enjoy a few of the finer things in life.