Chapter 49
“Tell me about this Durren that will come for you,” Carlotta said.
Shep had finally been given a pair of drawstring pants. But for reasons entirely unknown, he had been refused a shirt. He liked to think that had been Carlotta’s decision.
“Durrand,” He corrected.
“That is what I said.”
“My mistake.”
She gave him a look. He squelched a grin. “Why do ya wanna know about ‘im?”
“No reason. I simply try to become not so bored.”
“Or you’re interested in my life ‘cause I’m so damned charming.”
“So damned conceit,” she said.
“Conceited.”
She quirked a questioning brow at him.
“I’m so damned conceited,” he corrected and snorted, realizing she had played him. “Well, we’ll have time to work on your English when we get to Oklahoma.”
“Oklahoma?”
“Where all real men are born and raised.”
“So this Durren, he is from the Oklahoma, too?” she asked and settled onto the bed beside him. It was wonderfully hard to think when she was so near.
He frowned for a moment, remembering the time Durrand had saved him from a pair of streetwalkers he’d met in Guatemala. Shep would have sworn they were born women. “Maybe a couple come from Tennessee, too.”
“Does he look like you?”
“Why do ya ask?”
She shrugged. “Hollywood would have us believe that all Americans they are tall and dark and handsome.”
“Ya think I’m handsome?”
Another elaborate shrug. “I was ask about your friend. Is he look like you?”
“Well, I don’t like to brag.”
“I think you lie,” she said.
He stared at her.
“I think you like very much to brag. Is he big as you?”
“Durrand?”
She nodded. “I only ask because I am the curious one.”
“Well, he is tall and—” Shepherd began, but reality throttled him suddenly, stopping him in his tracks. “Shit!” he snarled and caught her hand but she stood, twisting out of his grip, eyes wide, expression troubled.
“What’s going on?” His words sounded like a growl to his own ears.
“Nothing goes on,” she said.
But he yanked at his cuffs, rattled the bed. “You’ve seen ‘im.”
“What? No!”
He searched her eyes. “He’s here isn’t he?” He stood abruptly, stretching his arm to the side as he skimmed the room. “I need some boots and…” He stopped abruptly, speared her with his gaze. “Come with us.”
“What do you talk of?” She waved wildly at his handcuffs. “You are chained to the bed.”
He didn’t even glance at the manacles. “Where is he?”
“I tell you, I did not see him.”
“Carlotta!” he said and grabbed her hand again.
Their gazes met in a clash of emotions.
She squeezed her eyes closed. “I am told there are people in the hole.”
“The hole? What hole? What are ya talkin’ about?”
She winced. “Some say the señor has a pit at his…at his other property. A pit where others are sometimes kept.”
“Prisoners?” He swore in silence. “He has other prisoners?”
She winced. He tightened his grip on her hand.
“Carlotta, ya have to leave here. I don’t care what he did for your family. You’re not safe. The man’s psychotic.”
“He is not—” she began, but just then there was a shuffling noise outside.
Shep snapped his gaze to the door and back. “Come with us,” he said again.
“You are tied to the—” she began but her words stopped in midsentence as the door was flung open.
Gabriel Durrand stepped inside. Blood coated the left side of his face. He was favoring one leg. But the shotgun in his hands looked damned steady. He glanced from side to side. When no one jumped from the shadows, he lowered the muzzle of his semi-automatic a quarter of an inch. “You coming or not?” The question sounded only mildly interested.
Shepherd grinned. “I just need some clothes,” he said, but a spatter of distant gunfire tore away their emotional reunion.
“Fuck the clothes,” Durrand growled and aiming at the bed frame, pulled the trigger. The metal screeched. Shepherd kicked it apart and pulled his arm free. Durrand tossed him a pistol and swung toward the door.
But Shep turned toward Carlotta. “Please.” His throat felt tight, his heart too large for his chest. “Ya have to come,” he breathed.
She shook her head, but there was uncertainty in her eyes, longing in her body language. His arm reached out of its own accord, pulling her close. He couldn’t help but kiss her.
“Please.” He whispered the word against her lips.
Silence held the world.
“Sooner would be better,” Durrand warned, and suddenly Carlotta nodded.
Shepherd kissed her again. Then turning, they charged out the door.
Bullets spattered around them.
“Head toward the river!” Durrand ordered.
They sprang away. Behind them men yelled and swore and discharged their weapons in wild disregard.
But a rifle from up ahead answered back. Bullets whizzed past them. Men grunted and died behind them.
“Is that Sharps?” Shep yelled.
“No,” Durrand said and turning, fired again.
A man jumped and fell.
“Halt!” someone ordered. He was close, too close.
But a rifle sang from a few yards ahead. The villains yelped and drew back.
“Indigo?” Shepherd guessed.
“Edwards!” Durrand called, and suddenly a sharpshooter rose from the foliage nearly at their feet.
“Out of ammo,” she rasped.
Shepherd jerked in surprise, but there was no more time for questions. Only for running as best they could, stumbling and scrambling through the trees.
Branches slapped them, roots tore at their feet, and three of them were wounded, slowing their pace; their pursuers were already closing the gap.
But they pushed forward until suddenly, they burst onto a road. They staggered to a halt as a Jeep careened around a curve and skidded to a stop a dozen yards from where they stood.
Timoteo Ortez Santiago stood in the back of the vehicle. Men with rifles flanked him on both sides.
“Americanos! I call a truce.” he yelled. “Truly, I wish you no harm.”
The sight of Doc Tevio’s head of security gasping on the floor following those same words, jerked Shep into motion. “The hell with that!” he snarled and snapped off a shot.
Tevio grasped his chest and slumped sideways. Durrand and his sharpshooter lunged into the trees. Shepherd grabbed Carlotta’s hand, pulling her after the others, but she twisted back.
“Señor!” she gasped.
Shepherd dragged her with him. “Come on!”
“No!” She jerked out of his grasp.
Shepherd swung toward her.
“Shep!” Durrand yelled and grabbed his arm. “Leave her!”
Shepherd swung around, but Durrand was already raising his weapon. The butt of his rifle collided with the side of Shep’s skull. It was the last thing he remembered for a long while.