Chapter 22
22
L eaving Davey and Avery at the shelter was like tearing off one of his limbs and leaving it behind. Heath hoped he’d made the right decision, but right now, the kids were safe and Clara needed him.
He just prayed he was right about where Mitch had taken her.
Trusting his gut, Owen sped across town with his lights flashing into the night sky and siren screaming. With deputies assisting the FBI, as well as searching for Mitch elsewhere, only the two of them were free to check out Clara’s house.
But that’s all they needed.
“We approach this just like we did the FBI raid,” Owen said. “Think first then act. Trust me, I understand how you’re feeling right now. Guilt and fear are twisting your gut into a damn pretzel, but you won’t do Clara any good if you act on emotion.”
Heath gritted his teeth, hating the lecture from his coworker. “I know how to do my job.”
“Not saying you don’t, but you’ve never done it under this kind of pressure. Never with your own heart at risk. When I almost lost Marie…hell, I can’t even go back to that place. All I’m saying is you need to think like a deputy when you storm into that house, not like a man hellbent on saving the woman he loves.”
The words slammed against him, stealing his breath. He’d been so preoccupied with shuffling Clara and the kids around and keeping them safe he hadn’t dissected his feelings toward her. Hell, he’d known her for months, but it hadn’t been until recently that they’d spent any real time together. Surely love couldn’t grow that quickly.
But the way his heart ached and the massive pit in his stomach said otherwise. He’d spent years alone, not wanting to open himself up to the possibility of being hurt.
Not wanting to ever see glimmers of his own father in himself if he ever settled down, married, and had kids.
But the time spent with Avery and Davey erased any doubt he’d ever had about wanting children. Those kids stole a chunk of his heart from the moment he saw them, and he’d given the rest to Clara not long after.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Owen said.
Heath rubbed the heel of his hand over his chest, the constant ache seemingly larger now that he acknowledged the depths of his feelings. “I didn’t realize I was in love with her until now. Hadn’t stopped to think, to talk about it, but there’s no use denying it. I love her, man, and she doesn’t even know. What if I never get to tell her?”
“Stop.” Owen barked out the order. “We’ll find her, and you’ll not only get a chance to tell her, but to show her.”
Owen was right. Once this was over, he’d show Clara and the kids how much they meant to him every damn day for as long as they let him.
But first he had to save her.
A rush of adrenaline hit his bloodstream, and he watched the houses in the quiet neighborhood fly by. “Cut the siren. If Mitch has Clara inside, we don’t want to spook him into doing something stupid.”
“Good point.” Owen switched off the screaming noise and silence settled over the vehicle.
“There’s two ways inside the house. The front door, and one in the back that leads to the kitchen. You head to the front, and I’ll cover the other,” Heath said. “Ring the bell, pound on the door, shoot through the lock if you need to. Hopefully that will distract Mitch enough that I can make my way inside undetected. We take that bastard down hard and quick.”
Owen shot him a pointed look before he turned onto Clara’s road. “You mean we attempt to restrain him without injury, right?”
“I said what I said.” Heath worked his jaw back and forth and fought to rein in his temper. He’d always been a man of honor who was mindful of the power of his badge. He’d never tarnish it by purposely injuring a suspect.
He made no such promises tonight. If he got his hands on Mitch, he wouldn’t let him walk away without inflicting as much pain on him as possible.
Owen pulled into the driveway and parked. “No vehicles, but the garage is closed up. Mitch has proven he’s smarter than we realized. He might have parked inside.”
“Let’s find out.” Heath jumped from the car and stalked toward the attached garage. Moonlight filtered through a blanket of clouds and the wind rustled what was left of the leaves on the trees. The air promised frost, but anger and determination heated his blood.
He approached the man door and squinted into the darkness. Validation pumped through him. “Truck’s here. Looks like Mitch’s,” he said.
Owen came behind him and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Good call. You knew what that sonofabitch was thinking.”
“Yeah, well, we need to get Clara before he finishes what he’s started. Give me a few seconds to jog around back before you approach the front door. If he has her in the living room or kitchen, it’ll give us both a good shot at them from our positions.”
“What if they’re in her bedroom?”
Cold, icy terror dropped in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed the wave of saliva that hit his pallet. He couldn’t let his mind go to that place, to think about all the ways he could kill Mitch if he laid a hand on her, but they needed a plan just in case.
“Once we’re inside, if we don’t see them, we head down the hall together,” he said. “Take Mitch by surprise. You apprehend him, I’ll get Clara.”
Owen gave one decisive nod.
Inhaling the cool, mountain air, Heath took off toward the back of the house. He stayed close to the white siding, not wanting to give away his presence in case anyone glanced out a window. He drew his weapon, and the familiar weight of the gun in his hands relaxed his muscles. Just like earlier, tackle the job like any other. He just had to rely on his training, trusting his instincts and his partner.
His booted feet crunched on old mulch in a flower bed nestled against the back of the house. He kept as quiet as possible, listening for signs of anyone behind the exterior wall. As soon as he heard Owen attempt to get inside, he’d muscle his way through the back.
The blast of a gun shot his heart to his throat. There was no more time for waiting. He had to get inside the house, now, no matter how much he feared what he’d find.
* * *
Clara dropped to the ground. Drywall crumbled around her, dislodged from the bullet now embedded in the wall. Her body trembled and panic pounded through her veins. Tears filled her burning eyes, and each breath made her lungs scream.
“You bitch! You lying, scheming, whore!” Red splotches dominated Mitch’s face. Fury twisted his expression. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and aimed his weapon at her again before firing another round.
She leapt away, landing hard on her knees. The impact sent a shockwave of pain rippling along her side, but she kept moving. Kept scurrying toward the kitchen. Her attack might not have rendered Mitch useless but at least it impaired him enough to throw off his aim.
Diving behind the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, she filled her lungs with fresh air to push out the chemicals and struggled to stop the shaking in her legs. Fear threatened to paralyze her, but she couldn’t let it. Freedom was so close. All she had to do was cross the room and get outside. Away from Mitch. Steeling her nerves, she ignored every ache and sprinted toward the door. The sound of heavy footsteps shook the floorboards, but she refused to glance behind her. She yanked open the door and crashed into a hard chest.
Shock stole her breath as she stared into Heath’s kind eyes. Relief flooded her system, and she threw her arms around his neck.
Heath held her tight then pulled back to frame her face in his hands. “Clara! Oh my God, I found you. Are you okay? We need to get you out of here.”
Mitch’s harsh laugh raised the hairs on the back of her neck. She stiffened, shoving against Heath’s chest to back him out, to get him away from Mitch.
“Look who’s late to the party,” Mitch sneered. “Or maybe he’s just in time.”
In one swift movement, Heath spun her around just as another blast erupted from Mitch’s gun. Heath fell to the kitchen floor, taking her with him. She landed hard on her hip, her limbs tangled with Heath’s, his face inches from her own.
Blood flowed from some unknown location on Heath’s body. His eyelids drooped, but he kept his gun in his hand. “Run,” he told her.
A sob caught in her throat. “You’re shot,” she said, unable to move. “I can’t leave you.”
Mitch snorted. “Neither of you are going anywhere.” He pointed his weapon at Heath’s head. “This is perfect. You can watch him die first.”
Heath grimaced and lifted his gun, the strain clear on the contorted lines of his face. His arm trembled, the barrel shaky.
Owen appeared with his weapon trained at Mitch. “Hands up!”
Heath crumbled and he struggled to keep his eyes open.
Fear shook Clara’s soul. There was so much blood. Heath needed medical attention now, but there was no telling how this would play out. If Owen pulled the trigger, Mitch could get off a quick shot—the bullet aimed at either her or Heath.
The side of Mitch’s mouth slid up, making her insides quiver. She’d seen that look a hundred times. Understood where his mind was. She’d witnessed that smirk every time he planned to torture, to hurt, to humiliate.
And right now, he planned to go down in a blaze of fire.
He’d never intended to live. He’d planned to hunt and take and kill. First her, then the kids, followed by himself. He’d wanted them to be together forever in some twisted tale of love gone wrong, and even if his plan had been spoiled, he’d get whatever satisfaction he could.
Tearing herself from Heath, she rose on trembling legs and faced her abuser. Her heart pounded against her breastbone and fear weighed down her limbs like lead. But she couldn’t let fear run her life. Not anymore. “If you take one more shot, Owen will take you down. Kill you if necessary. Is taking mine or Heath’s life worth ending your own?”
Mitch shrugged. “Why not? You said it before. There’s no way out of this situation for me. Might as well have some fun before this is all over.”
“Don’t be stupid, Mitch,” Owen said. “Lower your weapon before anyone else gets hurt.”
Clara fought not to let her gaze drop to Heath laying on the ground at her feet. Blood pooled around her shoes, seeping onto her white sneakers. Fear hitched high in her throat, but she held back fresh tears. Refused to give Mitch a flicker of satisfaction.
Mitch kept his Glock focused on Heath. “Nah, I’m not the stupid one. She is. She’s the one who got me into this mess. I won’t walk away, and if it were up to me, neither would she. But having this dumbass deputy laying in a puddle of his own blood under her is pretty damn poetic. Makes me wonder…”
As his voice trailed off, he spun and got off a shot that tore through Owen’s shoulder.
Owen stumbled backward.
A gun sounded and a bullet ripped into Mitch’s leg.
Clara screamed, confused by the source of the shot. She stared down at Heath, whose eyes slid shut and his body went lax.
Mitch fell to the ground, a growl ripping from his throat. He dropped his weapon and fire lit in his eyes. “You’ll pay for this.” He lunged for the gun.
Clara swiped Heath’s sidearm from his limp hand, aimed at Mitch, and squeezed the trigger.
Mitch’s body stilled and his eyes went wide before collapsing in a heap on the fake hardwood floor.
Ragged breaths tore through Clara and shock chattered her teeth. The gun turned hot as lava, and she dropped it to the floor.
Owen climbed to his feet and hurried to Mitch to pressed two fingers to the side of his neck. When he dropped his hand and frowned, he didn’t have to say a word for her to know the verdict.
Mitch was dead.
She should feel shame or guilt or sadness at taking a life. But in this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She’d deal with the trauma of tonight and all the previous years later. For now, her mind was consumed with one thing.
Heath.
She dropped to Heath’s side and molded her palm to his face. “Heath. Wake up. It’s over. It’s all over now. You found me and saved me. You need to open your eyes and show me you’re okay. You can’t leave me now. I love you.”
Tears flowed over her cheeks. Agony sent shockwaves through her system.
A gentle touch of her shoulder lifted her gaze to Owen. “Ambulance is on the way. I need you to move back so I can try to stop the bleeding until they get here. He’s strong and has a hell of a lot to fight for, so let’s give him the best chance possible.”
Linking her fingers with Heath’s, she shifted her body to block out the view of Mitch’s lifeless form. She needed to train all her energy, all her love and prayers, on Heath. She watched as Owen found the source of the bleeding. Horror penetrated the cloud of shock as he pushed down on the side of his abdomen where blood stained his shirt.
She squeezed Heath’s hand then pressed his knuckles to her lips. “Come on, baby. We need you. Me and Avery and Davey. We still have to take them on that camping trip, remember? It’s going to be a nightmare but one we’ll remember forever. We can’t do that without you.”
His eyes remained closed, but the side of his mouth twitched the tiniest bit and buoyed her spirits. Her hope lifted and she clung to it, because if Heath had given his life to save her, she wasn’t sure how she’d continue living.