Kiss of an Angel (35 page)

As she neared the barn, she could hear the men working in and around the structure. She searched for J.T. but didn’t see him. In the distance the sky turned dark, carrying the promise of an abrupt storm. Black clouds rolled toward the Circle R, blocking the sun. A slight chilly breeze picked up, ruffling through Caitlan’s hair and sending icy fingers of dread skimming over her nerves.

Oh, Lord, she thought. The menacing sky looked exactly like it had the day she’d seen J.T. through the portal, before she’d rescued him.

King, still in the corral, whinnied frantically, capturing Caitlan’s attention. Glancing in that direction, she froze, her heart jumping to her throat. Randal, staggering along the corral fence in a drunken haze, bent and retrieved a small rock. He nearly toppled over in his task but managed to straighten up and steady himself.

Muttering a curse, he cocked his arm back and pitched the rock at King, striking his target with an accuracy that astounded Caitlan, considering Randal’s intoxication. King shrieked and bolted to the other end of the corral. Whinnying distraughtly, he pranced anxiously back and forth like a duck in a shooting arcade.

Stumbling forward, Randal swooped up another rock.

Caitlan moved forward, her only thought to save King from any more inflicted pain. “Randal, no!” she yelled.

Randal whirled around. Faltering from the quick move, he came up against the fence and saved himself from falling on his butt in the dirt. Hooking an arm around a post, his back straightened. Bloodshot eyes narrowed on her, his cold, cruel smile curling his lips. “Well, if it isn’t the heroine of the Circle R.” His words dripped with hostility and hatred.

Behind her, Caitlan heard one of the hands say, “Better go tell J.T. there’s a problem out here.”

She wanted to tell the man no—she didn’t want J.T. anywhere near Randal right now—but she lost the opportunity when Randal threw another rock at King, hitting the horse in the neck. King cried out and fled. Eyes wide with terror, the panicked stallion searched for some means of escape.

Randal laughed, an evil sound that slithered down Caitlan’s spine. His eyes glittered with sinister pleasure. He picked up another rock, his expression daring her to stop him.

He drew his arm back, and Caitlan charged toward him, grasping his wrist before he could hurl the rock. “Leave King alone, Randal.”

He shoved her back, hard. She stumbled backwards but managed to regain her footing. At least she’d saved King from further abuse, she thought.

“Bitch,” Randal hissed, forgetting King and stalking her with deceptively steady steps.

Caitlan firmly held her ground, concealing the trepidation coiling in her. “Leave him alone,” she said again, her voice calm. “You’ve terrorized him enough.”

Randal waved a belligerent hand in the air, stopping a mere foot away from Caitlan. He swayed slightly, but his anger gave him a powerful fortitude. “That stupid horse of J.T.’s doesn’t deserve to live.”

The liquor on Randal’s breath was unmistakable. Caitlan refrained from the natural urge to turn her face away from the fetid odor. As she met his gaze, something in his eyes changed. Hatred and bitterness swelled into a darkening rage ... directed solely at her. The air around them turned icy cold.

Before she could move, he grasped her arms, his fingers biting painfully into her flesh. She winced and struggled to break away, but he tightened his grip.

“I’d have everything right now if you hadn’t come along,” he said in a low, menacing voice. “You had to ruin everything, didn’t you? You conveniently saved J.T. and that wretched horse, but who’s gonna save you?”

Mike, one of the hands witnessing the exchange, grabbed Randal’s shoulder, trying to prevent the confrontation. “Back off, Randal,” he said in warning.

Randal glared at Mike and slid his hand down Caitlan’s arm so his fingers encircled her delicate wrist. “Get your goddamn hand off me or I’ll break her wrist!”

When Mike didn’t do as he ordered Randal applied pressure to Caitlan’s palm, bending her hand back. Excruciating pain shot up her arm and she sucked in a breath.

Randal grinned sadistically. “Go ahead,” he sneered at Mike, “give me a reason to give this bitch what she deserves.”

Mike stepped back, indecision warring in his gaze. Caitlan reassured him with her eyes that he’d done the right thing.

Thunder clapped in the distance, rumbling the heavens. She looked up at the dark clouds churning in the sky and shivered, intuitively knowing the end was near. Her time with J.T. was almost over, and she hadn’t even told him how much she loved him, in this lifetime and into the next. Surely after last night he had to know her heart was eternally his.

Out of the corner of her eye Caitlan saw J.T. walk out of the barn. The expression on his face turned to pure fury when he saw the way Randal handled her.
Oh, Johnny, please don’t do anything foolish
, she prayed. Yet she was in no position to escape Randal, or to summon her Superiors for help.

J.T. started toward Randal, a white-hot rage consuming him. He was going to pulverize his cousin for touching Caitlan. His fist itched to connect with Randal’s jaw, to pull him out of the bitterness he’d been wallowing in since Boyd’s death. He’d be damned if he let anyone hurt his family, and Randal was pushing things too far.

No one can help Randal but himself.
Caitlan’s words echoed through his mind, gelling the blood in his veins. Was his cousin
really
beyond helping?

J.T. stopped a few feet away, not wanting to provoke Randal into doing something that might harm Caitlan. He reminded himself that she was an angel, a spiritual form that couldn’t possibly experience tragedy in its rawest sense, yet he couldn’t curb the natural instinct to protect her. She was
his
, and he wasn’t about to let Randal’s hatred jeopardize the love he’d rediscovered with her.

Meeting Caitlan’s gaze, he detected the desperation in her eyes and, deeper, fear ... fear for him.

His fists clenched at his sides, and he battled with all the conflicting emotions clamoring within him. “Get your hands off her, Randal.
Now
.”

Randal laughed condescendingly. “The high-and-mighty J.T. Rafferty speaks. Well, let me tell you something, cousin. This isn’t the first time time I’ve had the upper hand.”

J.T. frowned fiercely at Randal, hating the trepidation crawling over his nerves. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Last night I was going to kill that friggin’ horse you prize so much, would have succeeded if she hadn’t interfered,” he said, slanting Caitlan a spiteful look. Then his mouth twisted with a touch of gratification. “And those poor kittens, such a shame they found their way into King’s stall, isn’t it?”

J.T. didn’t want to believe his cousin could be so deranged, yet Randal was openly admitting his guilt. Worse, he showed no remorse over any of his malicious deeds. “Randal, you’re a sick bastard—”

“Oh, and let’s not forget Stacey,” he interrupted. “I screwed her every way I could, and she still wanted more.” He leered at Caitlan. “Maybe I’ll screw this bitch and let you know how they compare.”

Fury exploded in J.T. Rage shook every vital part of him. He stepped forward, ready to tear his cousin apart limb by limb. He came to an abrupt halt when Caitlan cried out from the pain Randal inflicted on her. A sadistic pleasure brightened Randal’s eyes. One more application of pressure and the bones in Caitlan’s wrist would shatter.

Adrenaline pumped through J.T.’s body, and he resisted the instinctive urge to charge at Randal, even though watching his cousin torture Caitlan ripped him apart inside. Caitlan clearly experienced human emotions and pain, and he refused to run risk of Randal seriously injuring her.

God, he felt so helpless. Randal held the advantage, and J.T. was at a loss as to what to do. His men stood to the side, but they, too, knew they couldn’t do anything to help without risking Caitlan’s safety. If he could get Caitlan out of the way, J.T. knew he could take Randal down.

“What do you want, Randal?” he asked, trying to reason with him when all he wanted to do was kill him for hurting Caitlan.

“I want to bring you down, J.T., as low as I’ve been. I wonder,” Randal said, enjoying being in control, “would you get down on your knees and beg for this slut’s life?” A slow smile of satisfaction curled his mouth. “Yeah, I think I’d like that. Beg, J.T., and maybe I’ll let her go.” Randal twisted her hand back.

Gasping at the burning agony streaking up her arm, Caitlan frantically searched her mind for a way out of this mess. She had to find a way to reach her medallion and summon her Superiors’ help. Drawing her foot back, she kicked Randal in the shin. He grunted at the unexpected painful attack, his eyes widening. She started to repeat the procedure. Realizing her intent, he shoved her roughly away.

Staggering to the side, J.T. caught her before she fell and thrust her behind him, out of the way. He moved to tackle Randal but stopped short when his cousin pulled a .38 from his waistband beneath his jacket. Randal backed himself up against the barn, pointing the small handgun at J.T.’s chest, a crazed look in his eyes. He was trapped and knew it. The only way out would be by killing J.T.

“Randal, goddammit, put the gun away!” J.T. ordered gruffly.

Randal’s finger curled around the trigger. “Not until I finish what I started down by the creek.” Slowly, he guided the barrel of the gun to Caitlan, aiming at her heart. “Or maybe I’ll put a bullet through her and make you suffer the way I’ve suffered.”

J.T.’s jaw clenched, anger and apprehension blazing through him at Randal’s threat to shoot Caitlan. If he had any hope at all of keeping her with him after this whole ordeal, he couldn’t allow Randal to harm her in any way.

“Leave Caitlan out of this,” J.T. said tightly, his body tensing to spring at any moment. “Your grudge is with me, not her.”

“As always, you’re right,” Randal said mockingly, training the barrel of the gun back to J.T. “You always were the golden boy around here, weren’t you? You could do no wrong. Even my own father would ask me why I couldn’t be more like you. Funny thing is, I wanted to be like you. I wanted to
be
you.” He waved the gun in the air, his eyes glittering with madness. “You’ve always had everything handed to you.”

“I’ve worked for everything I’ve got.” J.T. shifted on his feet, the subtle move inching him closer to Randal and the barrel of his gun. “Your Father should have been more careful with his inheritance.”

“Half of this ranch should have been mine, J.T.,” he roared, his face turning bright red in his fury. “Mine!”

Randal continued to rave at his cousin for all the injustices done to him, his gun never wavering far from his target of J.T.’s chest. A few of the hands moved cautiously in to help, but Randal went wild-eyed and warned them back, threatening J.T.’s life. The men obeyed.

A fierce wind blew, whipping through the trees, scattering the scent of danger and peril. The black clouds in the sky churned, and thunder boomed ominously. Keeping a keen eye on Randal’s movements, Caitlan slowly reached up and grasped her medallion, rubbing the warm gold with her thumb for comfort as much as as a summons.

“Help!” Caitlan projected
.

“Yes, it’s time,” Mary answered
.

Her worst fear confirmed, that her mission was nearly over, a sob of despair caught in Caitlan’s throat. She held back the impulse to beg for more time with her only love. Oh, God, how could she leave Johnny again? How could she go on without him after giving him her heart and soul—everything that she was?

“Get your emotions under control, Caitlan!” Mary ordered. “Now, before it’s too late. You must be the one to save J.T.”

Mentally shaking herself, Caitlan dropped her hand back to her side and concentrated on the situation, trying to anticipate Randal’s next move.

Randal’s tirade continued, his rage mounting without any provocation from J.T. “I hate you, J.T.,” he seethed, his fingers tightening on the gun. “If I can’t have the ranch, neither will you!”

In what seemed like slow motion to Caitlan, she watched in horror as J.T. lunged toward Randal, his intention to dislodge the gun from his cousin’s hands. Fear tore through Caitlan and she bolted forward to intercept J.T.

Randal’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected commotion. He jerked out of the way and leveled the barrel on J.T. again, his finger squeezing the trigger. A maniacal expression contorted Randal’s face.

“Johnny, no!” Caitlan shoved J.T. aside with the force of her propelled body just as a loud crack exploded in the air. An excruciating, ripping pain pierced her chest like a lance of fire.

The impact of the bullet threw her back, and she stumbled into J.T., knocking them both to the dirt.

J.T. rolled to his knees on the ground and shook his head as all hell broke lose around him. He was vaguely aware that it was Mike who rushed at Randal, unarmed him, then threw him on the ground and pinned him there. The other men swarmed around, assisting Mike in any way they could. One of the men shouted to call the sheriff.

J.T.’s head cleared and his gaze landed on Caitlan’s limp form laying feet away from him. He scrambled over to her, a deafening roar filling his ears and a sense of dread seizing his insides. He stared in horror at the blood soaking Caitlan’s sweatshirt near the vicinity of her heart. She’d taken a bullet for him!