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“You’re mine, Lyla. I always knew it, before she told me.”
Those are the last words he says before heavy footsteps approach us.
Barrett. It has to be.
The light lowers, and he raises the gun.
“No! Please…please don’t shoot him!” I beg. “I love him.”
“I know,” the man replies as he walks toward me. “That’s the only reason he’s still alive.”
Barrett
Halfway to the motel is where I found the abandoned four-wheeler. My cell phone light flashes over the back tires, which are both flat, but I don’t stop to examine the scene. No, I run faster because nobody is around, which means RJ and Lyla are now on foot, with that fucker no doubt catching up to them.
I don’t have to go much farther before I hear voices.
“No! Please…please don’t shoot him!”
Lyla’s pleading means he caught up to them, and she’s begging him to not kill RJ.
My heart wants me to run faster, but my head warns me to slow down, to tread lightly so he won’t hear me coming. I need to settle my heartbeat and steady my hand. I turn off my flashlight to slip out my gun, but I must have been too noisy as I approached.
When I finally spot them, the muzzle of his gun is pointing toward the ground while his left arm is wrapped tightly around Lyla’s neck.
“Stay back, or I’ll blow his head off!” he warns.
It’s too dark to tell, but it must be RJ on the ground, unmoving either because of the fucker aiming his gun at him or because he’s unconscious.
“You’re surrounded,” I warn him. “Let her go, and I’ll tell you which direction will get you out of here alive.” It’s a lie, of course, one I hope he’ll buy.
“No! She’s coming with me.”
When he starts to lift his arm, I know exactly what he’s going to do – point the muzzle at Lyla’s head instead of at RJ. I don’t think; I just aim, knowing this is the best shot I’ll get of his hand before he points that gun again.
I blow out a breath and lift my arms to pull the trigger.
The first bullet goes through his hand, just at the wrist junction, causing him to drop the gun and let go of Lyla.
“Run!” I yell to her over the ringing in my ears. As soon as she’s out of the way, I pull the trigger two more times. One shot to the head, one to his chest, putting him down for good.
My panting breath is all I can hear after that.
But a few seconds later, I hear Lyla scream what sounds like my name before she runs to me.
I wrap my arm around her back but keep the gun in my right hand while I watch to make sure Calvin Dockery doesn’t get up again.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I ask her as she buries her face against my chest. I can’t hear her sniffles, but I can feel her shoulders shaking.
“I’m…I’m okay. But I thought…”
“You’re safe,” I promise her.
Colt’s the first one to catch up to us. “What…the…fuck?” it sounds like he asks through his gasps when he comes to a stop, his upper body hunched over from the run.
“Check on RJ!” I tell him since I don’t want to take my eyes off the son of a bitch or let go of Lyla.
Colt staggers over and drops to his knees, reaching his fingers to place them on his neck. “He’s okay. Pulse is strong. He’s breathing,” Colt says. He shines his phone’s light on him and adds, “Head’s bleeding, though. Pretty bad.”
