197. Sterling
Chapter 197
Sterling
“Fisher,” I call out, and as soon as he looks my way, I toss my shotgun to him.
He releases Ben’s collar and catches the gun.
I don’t wait for him to point it at the man on the ground.
I race Ben to our girl.
I slide the last foot on my knees. “Courtney.” I reach for her, my hands tentative but needing to touch her. “Cookie, talk to me.”
She’s flat on her back, eyes closed. And if I hadn’t heard her talking to that fucking bear a moment ago, I might think she was passed out.
I lean over her, one hand braced on the ground, the other gently cupping her cheek. “Eyes up here, Honey.”
Her eyes blink open.
Relief swamps me.
And I collapse on top of her.
My forehead drops to the snow next to her head, and my lungs seize.
She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.
Hands press against my sides, fingers curling in my shirt.
“I’m okay.” Courtney’s words are quiet. Just for me.
And my body trembles.
Her fingers flex, then her hands run up and down my sides .
“I’m okay, Sterling.” Her hands slide around my back until she’s hugging me. “I’m okay.”
“I’m not,” I say back just as quietly. “I’m so fucking sorry. I?—”
A fur-covered head clunks against mine.
Courtney lets out a half laugh, half sob as one of her hands leaves my back. “My boys.”
Forehead going numb from the snow, I lift myself up.
The hand still on my back slides around to my side, then up to press against my chest. Over my heart.
Ben whines and nudges his nose against Courtney’s temple.
“I’m okay,” she says again, this time to the dog.
There’s a thud behind us, then another loud cry from Creep.
Ben darts over to the man on the ground and barks in his face.
Courtney lets out a chuckle. “He’s starting to feel courageous.”
The man yells something at Ben, and I watch as Fisher kicks him. Again.
Everyone here loves that damn dog.
“Come here,” I say to Courtney as I shift around until I’m sitting with my legs crossed.
She holds her hands out and lets me pull her up and into my lap, her side against my chest.
I hug her close with an arm around her back. I use my other hand to ghost my fingers over her chin. “Let me see.”
Her lips press together as she lifts her chin, just an inch. But then a sound leaves her throat.
“Shh.” I press my palm to her cheek. “If it hurts, don’t move. I’m sorry I asked.”
Tears start falling from her eyes again. “It’s not…” She pulls in a shaky breath. “I was so scared.”
I cup the side of her head and pull her into me.
My heart shreds as she cries against my chest. And I have to keep reminding myself that I got here in time.
And when that sends panic coursing through my system—because what if I hadn’t gotten here when I did?—I remember that damn bear.
Courtney’s bear.
I press a kiss to the top of her head .
Even if I hadn’t gotten here right when I did, that bear would have saved her.
We’re gonna have to find a way to feed that bear for the rest of her life. I just know it.
New footsteps sound on the gravel, and I kiss Courtney’s hair one more time before looking up to find Cook and a man I don’t recognize, who must be Dale.
The man’s eyebrows are raised, but he doesn’t say anything about the scene before him.
It’s a point in his favor.
If I came across a man with a shot-up knee, being kicked by one of my coworkers, stepped on by another, shotgun aimed at his chest, and a crying woman with a bloody neck sitting in the lap of my boss… I might have a reaction.
Guess we’ll keep Dale on the payroll.
“Cook.” My friend looks at me, eyes moving to Courtney as she reaches up to wipe away her tears. “An ambulance is on the way. I need you to get the bolt cutter out of the shed and open the gate. That fucker there put his own padlock on it.” I look at the new guy. “Dale, go with him.”
New guy nods at me just as Simpson lifts his foot and stomps down on Creep’s knee again.
Creep’s wail is shrill before he goes blissfully quiet. Passed out.
“’Bout fucking time,” Simpson grumbles. Then he looks at me. “You already called it in?”
I nod, still holding Courtney as tight as I can. “As soon as I saw the gate was closed, I knew something was wrong.” I run my hand down Courtney’s braid. “I just told the dispatcher to send an ambulance and hung up.”
Simpson nods at Courtney. “She okay?” His voice is quiet, but Courtney hears him because she lifts her head.
“I’m fine.” She brushes at her cheeks again. “Just rattled.”
With her head raised, I use the opportunity to look at her neck.
It’s too dark for me to see it well, but it looks like her whole neck is smeared with blood .
“Courtney.” The distress is back in my voice, and she jerks her attention back to me.
She reaches toward her neck but doesn’t touch it. “It’s not that bad.”
Destructive rage floods my system.
I look up at Fisher. “Shoot him again.”
Fisher chambers a new round.
Courtney laughs, honestly laughs, as she places a hand over my mouth. “Don’t shoot him.”
Simpson kicks Creep in the side.
Ben barks.
Courtney snorts.
And her humor is enough to have my rage subsiding. Just a bit.
Cook and Dale jog into view, with the new guy carrying the heavy bolt cutter. They both look this way but don’t stop, disappearing down the driveway toward the gate.
“That’s the guy you beat up, isn’t it?” Courtney asks, eyes back on Creep.
“It is.” I shake my head. “I should’ve told you. But I didn’t want you to be afraid.”
“What did he do?” she asks.
Simpson can hear her question because he kicks him again.
“He was following you… Was trying to get into your cabin.” I don’t tell her how close he was. And I don’t need to because now, wherever she goes, Ben will be at her side, paying attention when she isn’t. “I got to him before he could do anything. Tried to teach him a lesson.” I heave out a breath. “I underestimated him.” I make sure Courtney is looking at me. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I never thought he’d come back.”
She shakes her head. “Stop that right now. You couldn’t have known. And I’m glad it was me and not some other woman.” She brings her fingers near her neck again. “Now that he’s done this, he’ll go to jail, right?”
I nod. “He should. You have…” I swallow. “Injuries. And we have witnesses.”
“Got you one better.” Fisher hands the shotgun to Simpson, then takes his phone out. “Started recording when we got here. Got him holding Court at knifepoint and shoving her toward that bear.” He does something on his screen. “Got one short version and a longer one with you blowing his fucking knee out. Which one do you want me to share with the cops?”
I shake my head. This kid. “It’s not exactly a secret that someone shot him.”
Fisher lifts a shoulder. “Maybe not, but in the confusion—with the bear and all that—maybe we can’t remember who did it.”
“Appreciate the offer, but I’ll own it. It’s not like I killed him. And when the rumors get around, people will know not to mess with my girl.” The faint sound of sirens breaks through the night. “Simpson, put the gun on the ground behind me.”
He steps away from Creep, who is starting to moan himself awake, and empties the shells from the gun—putting them in his pockets—before setting the firearm down a few yards behind me.
Red and blue lights bounce off the trees as Cook and Dale step up to join the group.
“I can get up,” Courtney tells me.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “You can stay right here.”