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“Nolan?”
“I’ll kill him!” a female voice shrieked before dissolving into a coughing fit.
Naomi Rindlesbacher pointed a gun at Nolan. Moisture streamed from her red eyes, and she blinked furiously. Her men were both on the floor, blood oozing from wounds, not moving.
Nolan scrambled to his knees, tugging Madeline behind him. “Put the gun down, Naomi. It’s finished.”
“No!” she screamed.
Madeline could see men outside the open door, lining the sidewalk and creeping up to the porch. Was that Jensen and Ray? Could they stop this crazy woman from killing Nolan?
“If you shoot me, they’ll kill you,” Nolan said, his voice level and reasonable, as if talking to a toddler. “Put the gun down and you’ll live.”
“I have nothing left to live for,” she shrieked, coughing again. “You threw William off a cliff.” The gun shook in her hand. “Chief Jensen shot Treven in cold blood.” More coughs wracked her body. “And your son, Chad,” she gasped out, glaring at Madeline, “he murdered Roger and Ramone, my last hope to rule on the throne with me. I’m alone. I’ve been hiding, miserable, for months. All I have left is revenge. I might not be able to kill your children like you’ve killed my son, but I’ll kill you.”
Her mouth hardened into a determined line, and the gun in her hand steadied.
Madeline prayed desperately for a miracle.
“I killed your son,” a male voice hollered from outside. The man was unafraid, unrepentant, and brave—Chief Jensen. “I shot Treven multiple times, and I have no regrets. It’s me you want to kill.”
“Jensen,” Nolan breathed.
Naomi whipped around.
Multiple guns fired, and Naomi slammed onto Madeline’s hardwood floor. Nolan covered Madeline with his body again. She shuddered and clung to him, coughing to clear her lungs and blinking quickly to clear her vision. The aftereffects of the pepper spray were settling, but the aftereffects of the violence she’d been a part of this morning and tonight had her shaking.
Footsteps pounded into the house. The gun in Naomi’s hand was kicked away, even though she had to be dead.
“Come here,” Nolan murmured. He stood and easily lifted her to her feet, ushering her away from the bodies and the men and the smell of gunpowder, pepper spray, blood, and death. “Ray? I’m taking Madeline out back by the river.”
“Go.” Ray waved a hand at them. “We’ll clean this up, but four of my men will follow you.” He gestured to the men to run around to the back.
Madeline almost smiled at that. She’d been uncertain if she wanted guards trailing her, but her not taking guards this morning and Nolan out-driving his guard this evening had almost been disastrous. She couldn’t lie any longer and claim she needed time to process everything that loving Nolan entailed. Those moments of thinking he was dead as he’d flattened on top of her had been the longest of her life.
She loved him. She couldn’t live without him.
Ray’s blue gaze zeroed in on Madeline. Blue eyes so like his dad’s. She loved those eyes. “Madeline. Are you all right?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No.”
Ray nodded as if he understood. How could this tough, brave general who had seen death, inflicted death, and protected so many, understand?
“Thank you for coming for me.” She looked at Chief Jensen and Ray. Their men lined up behind them awaiting instructions, except for the four that had already vaulted her fence to secure the backyard.
“Of course,” Ray said.
Jensen nodded.
“How did you know to come?” Nolan asked. “You beat my guards here.”
“We were interrogating the suspect together, and he burst out that Naomi was coming,” Jensen said. He exchanged a look with Ray.
“It was a gut instinct to come this direction,” Ray said, his blue gaze steady on Madeline. “But Chad told me earlier he was bringing you home and I had a feeling.” He shrugged. “So we rushed here.”
“Thank you,” Madeline said. “Both of you.”
“Thank you, Ray, Jensen,” Nolan held her close and nodded to each of them, then the men behind them. “All of you.” He gently ushered her away from the bodies. “Do you want to go out back?”
