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Rachel took the shot, the report loud in Griff’s ears.
He couldn’t see if her one shot had been successful. Like a slow-motion movie, the ATV kept sliding in the gravel in a long, slow curve.
When Griff was able to steer out of the spin, he turned to face their adversary.
The killer’s ATV stood in the middle of the trail.
“Where did he go?” Rachel asked, the gun aimed at the killer’s ATV.
Griff eased forward.
Jake raced toward them on his four-wheeler.
A shadow rose from the other side of the killer’s ATV.
“Look out!” Jake yelled. “He’s got a gun!”
Griff hit the throttle.
Gunfire rang out.
Another sounded a split second later.
Pain sliced through Griff’s arm as he whipped the ATV around.
In the middle of the turn, the arm around Griff’s waist loosened, and Rachel tilted, carried in the centrifugal force of a spinning vehicle.
Griff’s arm shot out, catching Rachel before she fell.
Jake circled back, brought his ATV to a halt and jumped off. He squatted beside the man on the ground and touched two fingers to the base of his throat. “Target eliminated.”
Griff eased his four-wheeler to a stop with one hand and got off, careful to keep Rachel from falling.
Slipping his arm around her back, he lifted her off the ATV and laid her on the ground. His arm throbbed but wasn’t so damaged he couldn’t use it. His arm…his leg…didn’t matter. What mattered was the woman lying so still on the ground.
“Rachel,” he said aloud. He touched her shoulder and felt his way around her in the shadows, searching for the blood. He found the wound on her left side. Blood drenched her shirt and jeans and dripped onto the ground. He shed his jacket, pulled off his T-shirt and folded it into a thick pad. He used it to apply pressure to the wound. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”
The starlight illuminated her pale face and her weak smile. “Did we get him?”
“Sweetheart,yougot him.”
She closed her eyes. “For Lindsay.”
“That’s right. The bastard won’t hurt another woman, thanks to you.”
“He almost got me.”
Griff didn’t want to tell her that he had gotten her. His heart clenched as he held the T-shirt to the wound to contain the loss of blood.
“I couldn’t let him…get…away,” she said, her voice fading to a whisper. “And I wanted to see you…again.”
“He’s gone now. We can get back to living. You. Me. We can quit pretending. We can make it real.” He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her temple. “I love you, Rachel. You make my life worth living in so many ways.”
“Love you,” she whispered without opening her eyes.
“Rachel?”
She didn’t respond.
