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“Moriah?” Jaci fought to believe what she was seeing. Moriah, her face pale, her eyes blazing with madness as she smiled calmly.
“I warned you, Annalee,” Richard said then, his voice hardening.
“Yes, you did warn her didn’t you?” Moriah cried out then, the weapon turning, centering on Richard. “You’ve tried to turn her against me the whole time, didn’t you, Richard? The poor little crazy girl. You wanted her to leave me all alone. You didn’t want us to be happy. ”
“For God’s sake,” Richard muttered, his face slack now with disbelief. “Put the gun down, Moriah. ”
Cam eased himself in position in the doorway behind Moriah. Slipping through the house to the far door hadn’t been easy. The apartment was laid out with a series of short hallways, and several crossed each other.
He held his gun at his thigh as he got into position to get a clear sight of the young woman. The psychiatrist’s report was right; Moriah Brockheim wasn’t completely sane. He could hear it in her voice now.
He couldn’t let himself think about the information his brother had heard. Ian and the detective would be in position at the back now, and easing toward the door. He had to take her down before they came in, before they heard as well.
“Moriah, dear, please put the gun down. ” Annalee’s voice was softer, gentler than Jaci could have imagined it would be. “We can discuss this, darling. Jaci is very reasonable, and you know how nice I truly am. Once she sees this, she won’t tell a soul. We can convince her. ”
There was pain and desperation in Annalee’s voice, in the sorrow in her face and in her eyes. She truly cared for Moriah. Cared for her. Not as a toy, but as a child, as the little girl Jaci had sometimes glimpsed in the other woman.
“We can?” Moriah whispered hopefully as she turned to Annalee. “Will you tell them, Anna? Will you tell them that I belong with you? Father keeps fighting me. And that stupid psychiatrist won’t listen. ”
“You know I will, sweetheart,” Annalee promised, sincerity as thick as the fear in her eyes now, as she held her arms out to Moriah. “Come here, baby. Let Aunt Anna make it all better. We’ll go fix chocolate and talk with Jaci about this, shall we?”
Cam let his eyes flicker over the room, and a second before Richard moved, he knew what was coming. The congressman’s muscles bunched and he jumped for the gun.
The soft pop of the gun sent Richard to the floor, his hand clamping over his chest as a glaze of red spilled over his fingers.
Annalee screamed and Moriah turned to Jaci as Cam jumped. He knocked Moriah to the side, grabbed Jaci, and rolled with her, ignoring her cry, pushing her behind the desk as he turned back to the room.
“So protective,” Moriah sneered as she regained her footing, turning the gun on him. “You’re a gigolo. A man-whore. Your aunt sold your body to dirty old women and you let her. You think I’ll let you take Anna from me? You’re nasty and brutal and mean. Chase deserves a better brother than you. He always has. ” She screamed the words, the gun lifting as Cam stared at her in horror.
He had his gun in his hand, staring back at her, seeing the young woman his brother had been so fond of over the years. The woman, so fragile, already broken, her eyes maniacal as her finger tightened on the trigger.
He lowered the gun to shoot to wound. It was a risk. Crazy was fucking crazy, and he knew she would fight to the death to pull that trigger.
As Cam aimed, someone else fired. He watched in shock at the neat, dark little hole in the middle of her forehead, the almost peaceful expression that came over her face before she slumped slowly, gracefully to the carpet beneath her. The pretty white-and-gold dress she wore flowed around her bare legs, her hair feathered over her pale face, and the scent of death and Annalee’s quiet sobs filled the air.
Detective Allen was yelling into the radio for backup and the paramedics that were already standing by as he and Ian rushed into the room. The congressman was gasping for breath, and behind Cam Jaci had her forehead against his back. He felt her trembling, a soft sob whispering from her lips as he turned and stared at Chase.
His brother lowered his handgun slowly before turning to Cam, his eyes dark, fury burning hot and bright inside him. And he felt his brother then. Felt that bond tighten as his twin’s rage turned on him.
“Your shot went wild, Chase. ” Detective Allen, portly, breathing heavy, shook his head as he stepped into the room, his dark brown gaze heavy with sympathy as he stared around the room.
“No it didn’t, Carl,” Chase said tonelessly.
“Trust me. ” Carl’s voice hardened. “My shot took her. Yours went wild. ”
Cam rose from the floor, pulling Jaci with him, staring at his brother in shock as Chase moved to him.
“Keep your fucking mouth shut, both of you,” Chase hissed to Cam and Jaci. “The Robertses can protect themselves. Our pasts stay in the fucking past. Do you understand me?”
Cam shook his head slowly as he stared at his brother’s ravaged expression. “What have you done, Chase?”
To himself. He could see it in his brother now, the grief, the pain. He had killed Moriah Brockheim. He’d had no choice. Cam would have taken the bullet and prayed for the best, rather than killing a woman that he knew his brother felt affection for.
“I showed her mercy,” Chase bit off, his voice icy. “Start praying I show it to you later. ”
Jaci moved around Cam as the detective moved to him, her entire body shaking while she moved across the room to Annalee Roberts, where she knelt silently beside Moriah.
Chase was next to Richard, applying a compress to the wound as they awaited the paramedics.
