Chapter Twenty-Two
The gunshots echoing through the trees sent a little trio of birds straight up into the blue sky.
Ellis couldn’t let himself be distracted by them, not while Colleen still had a gun, but his heart leaped in fear and the driving need to run toward that sound. It had to be Boyd and Kirsten. It had to be…
Them. Shooting. He couldn’t consider any other eventuality. Boyd was handling things there. So Ellis had to handle things here.
“Uh-oh,” Colleen said with a little pout. “Better run and see who it was.”
“I’m going to have to shoot you first.”
Colleen laughed. “You’re a Boy Scout, Sutty. You’re not going to shoot me if I don’t aim. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you kill me when I wasn’t making an active threat against you. You forget, I know you.”
He curled his finger around the trigger, keeping his aim steady and true. She didn’t know him. She never had. But she was right. He didn’t like the idea of killing her if she wasn’t posing an active threat.
But there was something she didn’t understand.
“I don’t have to shoot to kill.” Before he’d even finished the sentence, he pulled the trigger, aiming for her.
In the same fluid motion, he charged. As long as the shot caused her to drop the gun, he could tackle her and immobilize her, and then once he found some way to tie her up, he’d find Boyd and Kirsten and make sure the gunshots weren’t…
He didn’t let himself finish the thought. Her hand was too small of a target to know for sure he’d hit exactly where he wanted.
But he’d always been an excellent shot.
He wasn’t sure where the bullet hit, but it had to have been close to where he’d aimed since Colleen screamed out in pain, and even better, dropped the gun. He was halfway across the yard. He’d reach her before she had a chance to pick it back up.
Still, he knew that wouldn’t be her only weapon, and she was still on her feet.
So he ran harder and then leaped, tackling her before she could reach any other weapons or leap for her own gun in the snow.
He had her face down in a pile of it, and though she struggled pretty effectively, Ellis kept her under control by using his body weight.
He ripped the tie from his coat hood out and used it to bind her arms. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it bought him some time to dig around in her coat pockets.
He wasn’t surprised to find duct tape and zip ties. But he was grateful. He replaced his makeshift tie with her zip tie, then moved down to her feet. She wouldn’t be able to do anything like this.
He rolled her over onto her back. Her face was red and wet. She was gasping for air. Wriggling against her bonds. But thankfully, they held her tight.
“I hope she’s already dead,” Colleen spat at him. “I hope you find her with a damn hole in her head.”
Before Ellis could respond to that, or—even better—walk away, he heard someone behind him. He whirled, ready to shoot.
But it was Boyd. And Kirsten. His knees nearly gave out as Kirsten rushed over to him.
“Colleen,” Boyd said as he reached them. He looked down at her. “Long time, no see.”
“You’ll all be dead soon enough,” she replied, but Ellis didn’t think she was so much certain as refusing to admit defeat.
“Doubt it. We took care of your backup group already.”
“There’s no way you took out five men by yourself, you arrogant…” But she trailed off, realizing her mistake.
“Wow, you really are good at this,” Ellis muttered sarcastically.
“Just as good as any FBI agent.” He checked the rest of her pockets, ignoring the way she tried to put up a fight.
He pulled out a phone and a knife and more bullets.
He checked her boot, found another knife. He handed them all to Boyd.
When he was satisfied she was completely disarmed and not getting out of those ties anytime soon, and certainly not on her own, he got to his feet. And immediately put his arm around Kirsten, walking her away from Colleen. Boyd fell into step on his other side.
“Okay, so we’ve got to find three,” Boyd said in a low voice Colleen couldn’t hear, though she was bellowing enough she wouldn’t be able to hear much of anything. “We took out two. One for me, one for Bull’s-eye over here.”
Ellis looked down at Kirsten in some surprise. “I didn’t freeze up,” she said, leaning into him. “But I did close my eyes.”
He squeezed her tight. “Don’t do that again.”
“So I told her,” Boyd muttered.
“Boyd is hurt, Ellis. He keeps saying he’s fine, but…” Kirsten gestured at Boyd, who Ellis realized had been keeping his left arm out of view.
“It’s nothing,” Boyd said. “I’ve had worse walking down the street.”
Ellis believed him, more or less, but with three men still out there, they needed help. And Boyd would need medical attention. “I’m still calling in backup.”
“Okay, but if the cops show up? Or worse, the FBI? I’m disappearing, and I was never here.”
“Why…?” Ellis shook his head. He didn’t have time to get to the bottom of whatever Boyd was hiding or running away from. He had to get Kirsten to some kind of safety before the three guys still out there got to them. “How the hell did she con five guys into helping her?”
“If she was hooked up with the Carusos, she knows how to find violent people desperate for money.”
Ellis supposed he couldn’t argue with that.
“Couldn’t we just lock ourselves in the cabin and wait for backup to arrive?” Kirsten suggested.
Ellis could lock her up in there. And Boyd. Boyd was hurt. It’d be better if they were maybe in that cellar, safe. But if someone got through him…
He didn’t have time to finish that thought or come up with a plan. He heard it, a second too late. Boyd must have too. Because almost in time with the echoing sound of the gunshot, Ellis felt pain rip through his shoulder and knock him into the cold, icy snow. Hard.
Kirsten’s scream echoed louder than the gunshot.
BOYD HAD GRABBED HER, tossed her onto the ground. She crawled through the snow toward Ellis lying there, but Boyd had a grip on her leg and wasn’t letting her get far enough.
“We have to disable the shooter first,” he shouted at her.
He said it maybe twice, but she couldn’t process the words. Not when it was just like her dream. Her memory. Ellis, blood pouring out of his shoulder. Only here it was making the white snow red.
And he was so still. So still.
“Kirsten.” Boyd managed to get a good enough hold on her leg to drag her back to where he was huddled at the side of the house, a kind of makeshift barrier between the shooter and them.
But Ellis was out there in the snow not moving and—
She tried to suck down a sob.
“He’s okay,” Boyd told her, squeezing her arm hard enough it hurt. “Look at his hand.”
Kirsten searched for his hand, but it was so hard to see past the pool of red in the snow getting bigger and not just start screaming. Then she saw his hand. Very carefully arranged in a thumbs-up position. He was being still on purpose. So as not to draw any more fire.
“There’s two in the trees there. We don’t know where the third guy is, but that’s okay.
Here’s what we’re going to do,” Boyd said, his clear-cut and calm instruction doing something to help her find some calm.
“You’re going to carefully get to the front door of the cabin.
You get inside, then shoot the gun out the front door.
It’ll be enough of a distraction Ellis and I will get up and run.
Then we’ll all huddle down in the cabin and wait for backup. Okay?”
She had to close her eyes and not think about the amount of blood Ellis was losing. Okay. Okay. Walk to the front of the building, get inside, shoot.
Maybe she didn’t understand how that could possibly work, but she’d do it. If it got them all in the cabin safe and able to take care of Ellis, she’d do anything. She’d trust Boyd to make the right choices to save Ellis.
Bloody, still Ellis.
She shook away the thought, forced her eyes open and met Boyd’s intent gaze. She gave him a nod and then managed to get to her feet and creep along the side of the cabin. She didn’t feel the cold or the gun still in her hands. She didn’t feel anything except the need to do what she’d been told.
She peeked around the corner, surveyed the swath of snow and land. No one. So she grabbed the key out of her pocket, took a breath to steady herself, then rushed forward to the cabin door. She jammed the key in, shaking only a little, and then managed to get it open.
She stumbled inside. Part of her wanted to slam the door shut, curl into a ball, and just cry. Ignoring everything else.
But she would not leave her husband to die. So, she had to follow Boyd’s instructions. Shoot the gun. Be a distraction.
But before she could, someone was in the doorframe. Everything in her seized. It wasn’t Boyd or Ellis, but she knew that face.
She saw a flash from the house. From Chicago. It was the same guy. The same guy who’d broken down her closet door, who’d had a gun pointed at her. The same guy, threatening to end her life once again.
She could hear his chuckle. She heard him say you won’t shoot—then or now, she wasn’t sure—but she didn’t want to figure it out.
She just pulled the trigger.
And she kept her eyes open this time, as the bullet went into his chest and he stumbled back. His gun rattled onto the floor of the cabin as he fell into the snow just outside the door.
She rushed forward to close the door, then remembered Boyd and Ellis. Before she could decide what to do, the man was pushing into a sitting position.
Laughing.
“You think we weren’t prepared?” he said, like he hadn’t been shot. Like he was superhuman or something.
Then it dawned on her that he was wearing some kind of vest. Some kind of protection. He moved, like he was reaching for another gun. Fury and terror pumped through her in equal measure. She shot again.
The bullet missed him completely.
He laughed again, and gunshots echoed from behind the cabin. She wanted to sob, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t let this be the end. She had to focus. She knew how to aim. She knew how to shoot.
She would protect herself and her husband this time. So she aimed at where a vest couldn’t protect. And she shot, three times to be sure.
She wasn’t sure how many bullets hit, but at least one, as the man cried out in pain, reaching for his shoulder.
Not exactly where she’d been aiming, but she’d take it. Especially when Boyd and Ellis came around the corner. They were both bleeding, but not more than they had been.
Working in quick unison, they both crouched on either side of the guy, taking all his weapons off of him, even as he fought and groaned and thrashed.
Then they were both moving for her. Ellis pushed her deep into the cabin with his good arm while Boyd dropped their pile of absconded weapons inside the doorway. Without saying a word, they both moved around the cabin, locking doors, windows, setting up barricades.
Blood dripping down their arms. And Kirsten was in some kind of shock, because she could only stand in the middle of the room and watch them. She’d shot multiple men today. So had they.
But they were…all here. Okay-ish. Alive.
When Ellis finally came up to her, his eyes were serious, worried, but his complexion was far too gray.
“You should sit down,” he told her, and his voice was a little fuzzy, tinny. It was shock or hysteria or something, and she had to get a hold of herself, but all she could think was…
“You were shot again.”
“Survived it last time, I’ll survive this time.” He nudged her onto the couch, but she popped right back up. Something…finally getting through the shock. Survival maybe.
“Both of you sit,” she ordered in what she knew Ellis called her teacher voice. “We need to put pressure on your wounds.” She tugged his good arm until he sat on the couch. “We need to call—”
“I got a message to Zach. The cops are already here handling who we took out. EMS will be here any minute to patch us up.”
Ellis managed to grab her hand with his good arm. Squeeze. “Kirsten. It’s over, and it’s all okay.”
She knew it was true. Finally, really true. The three of them had taken out five guys with guns, and Colleen Fredericks.
Her legs couldn’t keep her upright, so she sank to her knees. Then pressed her forehead to Ellis’s knee and just cried. For two years ago. For now. For everything in between. She let it all go.
Because it was over, and on the other side of this was the future.