Hardass (Bad Bitch)(80)

Even so, I dropped my aim and put the gun on the floor. Then I straightened and held my hands out.

“Now kick it over.”

I toed the pistol’s grip with the tip of my shoe and kicked, sending it skittering across the wood floor and onto the bloody plastic sheeting.

Luke grinned and took the knife from Caroline’s neck. I could breathe again.

When he knelt to grab the gun, I sprang at him. Some piece of furniture splintered and shattered as I tacked him into it. We fell in a rolling mess of arms and legs, kicking and punching. A deep searing ache tore through my stomach, but I kept fighting until I was on top of Luke, my hands around his throat.

He clawed at my wrists, his fingernails digging and ripping at my skin. I increased my pressure on his windpipe.

“Don’t you ever touch her.” My vision hazed a bit, but I only squeezed harder.

He struggled more, trying to buck me off and peel my hands away. I wouldn’t let go, staring every ounce of hate I had for him into his eyes.

After a few more moments, the pale blue eyes bugged and he stopped fighting. When his chest no longer moved and his eyes looked through me, I let up. The room was spinning. I struggled to my feet and yanked at the pulley system that held Caroline suspended. It lowered her to the plastic, where she crumpled in a pile. I went around to her front and yanked at the ropes around her wrists. The first one came easy. The second took longer, and then I sat, the strength ebbing out of me. She scrabbled at the ropes, releasing her own ankles before pulling the gag from her mouth.

“Wash!” she cried and wrapped her arms around my neck.

I thought it would warm me to feel her safe in my embrace. But I was cold. A chill seeped into my bones.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She was crying, her chest heaving against me. I raised a hand and stroked her hair, though it was all I could do. My limbs were heavy.

She pulled away from me and gasped. “Wash, the blood.”

“Don’t worry about me. Just you. Are you hurt. Where’d he hurt you?”

“He’d only just s-started.” She pushed me down onto my back and pressed her palms into my stomach. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Is anyone else here? Anyone coming?”

“Toby.” My eyelids were so heavy.

“When?” Her voice was desperate. The fear in it destroyed me. I didn’t want her to ever be afraid.

“Soon.”

“Don’t close your eyes. Don’t, Wash. Look at me.” She kept one hand on my stomach and cradled my head with the other.

Her warm brown eyes were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“I love you.” The words just came out, the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you, too.”

“Wash, wake up!” Her voice echoed around me and was joined by others.

Were there other people? I wanted to get up, to fight, to protect her.

A dark shape appeared over her shoulder. Toby’s voice made it to my ears, but I heard nothing but noise. No words. I looked back at Caroline, her gaze fixed on mine.

My eyes closed even though I wanted nothing more than to keep looking at her.





Epilogue


Caroline

Six Months Later

“Move it a little more to the left.” I sighed. Sign placement was the hardest thing I’d done all week, and I’d just picked up two capital murder cases.

“Here?” the building super asked.

I tried to gauge the perfect height for it. I even held my hands up and formed a square with my thumbs and index fingers. My firm’s office had to look perfect when the clients walked in the door. The sign was the first thing they’d see.

The golden letters glittered in the morning light.

“Move it down a little. Just a hair.”

The super sighed but did as I said. I stared a little while longer, shifting from heel to heel.

Arms went around my waist, and Wash’s deep rumble vibrated against my back. “It’s perfect. Put it right there.”

The super nodded his head in thanks and drilled one end of the Granade, Montreat, & Lynch sign into the wall.

Wash squeezed me closer to him. “The sign isn’t the only thing that’s perfect.” His breath in my ear sent chill bumps shooting down my back and arms.

“I have court.” I leaned my head back on his shoulder.

“Not for half an hour.” He spoke louder to the super. “Keep up the good work.” Then he dragged me backward and pulled me into his office, slamming the door and pushing me up against it.

“I have to prepare.” I smiled.

Not fooled, he gripped my hands and pinned them above my head. “Since when are you not prepared?”

“Since never.” I sighed as his lips found my neck, sucking lightly before his teeth edged across my skin.