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“Police!”
At the yell, Gratton started forward to meet the cop. The second he was away from Snow and Jude, Rowe used his key to Snow’s place and silently unlocked the backdoor. As he hurried over to Snow, his knife drawn, Rowe was tempted to just pull his Glock and put two in the back of Gratton’s head.
No. Legal. They needed to do this by the book. Mel wouldn’t approve of cold-blooded murder. She had believed in Rowe. He had to save Snow first. He knelt behind Snow and the doc jerked at the first touch of his hand, trying to twist around to see who was suddenly behind him. A small gasp left his parted lips, his eyes starting to tear up when they grazed Rowe’s haggard face.
“Free in just a sec, doc,” Rowe murmured as Hollis yelled for Gratton to throw down his weapon and put his hands behind his head. Rowe sawed through the heavy rope that bound Snow’s wrists and legs. But as Snow started to reach for Jude, the world went to hell.
Out of the corner of his eye, Rowe saw Gratton throw his head back as Hollis attempted to cuff the man, smashing into his nose. The surprise was enough for Gratton to break free and throw the cop into the wall, almost forcing his head through the drywall, before delivering a series of punches that left the cop an unconscious lump on the floor.
“Free Jude and get him out of here!” Snow snarled, launching to his feet again to tackle Gratton before he could reach his gun.
“Fuck!” Rowe shouted. This had turned into a cluster-fuck from the first second. This was what he got for letting the cop lead. All the same, he still scooted over to Jude and quickly cut his bindings while listening to Gratton and Snow exchange punches across the room. Low moans rose from Jude’s throat and he shifted along the floor, returning to consciousness.
As soon as Jude was free, Rowe smacked him on the cheek, rousing him the rest of the way. His brow furrowed when his eyes finally focused on Rowe and went instantly wide. Yeah, not the guy he was expecting to see, but he’d have to do for now.
“Get out,” Rowe barked. “I’ll get Snow.”
The words were barely out of his mouth when Snow shouted in pain. Rowe twisted around to see Snow flying backward away from Gratton and landing heavily on the ground. His long body curled, his hand going to his ribs while his face twisted in pain.
“Snow!” Jude yelled.
Gratton picked up a gun—his or Hollis’s Rowe no longer knew—and pointed it at Snow. There were no thoughts any longer. No haunting memories of his dead wife or the wishes of his friends trying to keep him on the straight and narrow. The world around him slowed and sound ceased. On instincts alone, Rowe grabbed his gun, pointed it at Gratton, and squeezed off three quick rounds. Each bullet hit center mass, throwing Gratton backward, but not before he fired off two that ripped through the carpet not more than a few inches from Snow’s face.
Rowe dropped to his knees, emotions slamming back into him, sucking the air out of his lungs. It was over. Oh, Christ it was finally fucking over. The man who had stolen Mel from him, who had nearly killed Ian, who’d tried to take Snow from him…he was dead at last. Blinking back tears, his vision blurred as he watched Jude scramble unsteadily across the floor to Snow, watching as the man kissed the doctor gently before starting to examine his body. Snow frowned at him, pushed his hands away, then winced when he tried to sit up. Jude held his chin, ducked, and looked into his face as he murmured something Rowe couldn’t hear.
But he could definitely see the look of raw, aching love his friend gave the other man and shock hit him squarely in the chest. It was followed by a rush of real happiness for Snow, who caved and let the paramedic look him over. Snow did, however, throw Rowe a wry look over Jude’s head. Yeah, he was a doctor after all.
Rowe walked to Gratton’s body on shaking legs as police sirens and Hollis’s groans filled the air. He tried to find even a hint of regret for taking a life and he couldn’t. Because of his Mel. The gaping hole in Rowe’s chest didn’t suddenly fill with the death of Gratton, but Rowe knew better than to expect that. His wife was gone and killing her murderer wouldn’t end the pain. But maybe now he could sleep, and he’d take that.Chapter 25Snow couldn’t take his eyes off Jude as another doctor—Simmons—looked him over. The paramedic sat on the other hospital bed, his chest bare, bruises already forming on his stomach, ribs and face. But Jude refused to look away from where Snow sat gingerly propped up on the other bed. They’d been given a private room instead of going through the examinations in the ER.
