Lone Defender (Love Inspired Suspense) (22 page)

Jonas.

Had he found her abandoned vehicle. Had he informed the police?

Please, God, let it be true.

“We’ll get to know each other plenty when we get to the compound, but it won’t be over coffee. Now shut up. Something doesn’t feel right, and your chattering is distracting me from figuring out what it is.”

Exactly what she wanted.

Especially with the silent road shouting its warning.

A blockade had been set up. Rescue would follow. She just had to stay alive long enough for it to reach her.

“When the new messiah—”

“I. Said. Shut. Up.” A gun barrel pressed to her temple, and she froze like she had when the rattler had slithered beneath her seat.

Silence.

But she could almost hear the serpent’s quiet rustling.

Darkness.

But she was sure eyes were watching.

Tension built, wave upon wave, and sweat trickled from her temple, her body stiff with fear and with the need to stay alive.

“Too quiet,” the gunman muttered, lowering his weapon, stepping on the gas.

The car jerked forward. Lights pierced the darkness behind them. Not a cop car. A truck. Speeding after them, and she knew it was Jonas. Wanted to shout for him to go back as much as she wanted to scream for him to hurry.

Lights on the other side of the median, bouncing toward them. Blue and white. One, two, three cruisers.

Everything blurring as the car picked up speed.

Do you have your seat belt on?
Jonas’s voice in her ear, and her hands reaching, snapping the belt into place. Touch
ing the arrowhead he’d given her. Praying, praying, praying that she’d see him again.

And then they were flying, spinning.

Gold and green and white and blue, everything bleeding together. Pain and darkness. Light and a sudden silence that filled Skylar’s ears, filled her lungs until she thought she’d drown in it.

Move!

The warning screamed through her mind, and she grabbed the door handle, her fingers clumsy, her hands shaking. Smoke billowed from the hood of the car, the acrid scent of gasoline burning her nose, gagging her.

No air.

Just heat.

Scorching heat.

“Dear God, please. Help me!” She clawed at the door handle, her fingernails breaking.

The door flew open. Hard arms pulled her out. Lifted her up. Jonas. Running, his heart thudding under her ears.

And the night exploded.

Flying again.

Silence again. Pain.

Something heavy stealing her breath.

She moaned, shoving at the weight.

“Shhhhh. You’re okay.” Jonas’s words carried through the haze of pain and confusion, and Skylar opened her eyes, looked into his face. His cheek was bleeding again, black hair falling over his forehead, straight and silky, his face chiseled and strong.

He looked like he had the night they’d met—like an ancient warrior come to life.

Her
ancient warrior, and the stupid tears that always came when she was weakest, poured out.

“Don’t cry, Grady.”

“I’m not.”

“Then, what are these?” He brushed away moisture, his hand lingering.

“My eyes are watering, because you’re crushing the life out of me.”

“That’s the Grady I’ve come to love.” He smiled, shifted.

“Love?”

“Why not?” He ran his hands up her arms and legs. “Anything hurt?”

“Only my pride for allowing myself to be lured out of my car.” And about a million bumps and bruises and maybe a broken leg.

But her heart?

Her heart felt just fine.

“We found the snake. Animal control is getting it out. The way they tell it, the thing is a six foot—”

“I don’t want to know the details. The thing slithered over my foot. Which reminds me, the next time I choose heels over boots, tell me not to.” She levered up on her elbows.

Fire shot into the sky from crushed metal, etching the scene in startling clarity.

“Did Smithson get out?”

“The sheriff—”

“The sheriff is here?” She struggled to her feet, brushing away Jonas’s hands.

“He helped set up the blockade, and he pulled the perp out of the car. It didn’t look like the guy made it.”

“The perp is his son. All this,” she said waving frantically, “the sheriff is responsible. We need to find him. Stop him.”

“You two okay?” Chief Deputy Mitchell ran toward them.

“Come on. We need to tell him what you know.” Jonas grabbed her hand, pulled her forward, but the sheriff appeared, stepping past the burning rubble, gun drawn.

There was no time for anything. Just the quick thought that Jonas was the target.

Life for life?

Love for love?

Jonas shouted a warning, and the deputy turned, pulled his weapon too late.

Skylar shoved Jonas hard, felt the impact of the bullet shatter her collarbone, felt it tear through flesh and muscle and organ.

Felt it all again.

The darkness and the dying.

Only this time, it was Jonas’s hands pressed against the wound,
his
eyes staring into hers, desperately trying to hold her to the world.
His
tears dripping onto her face, mixing with her tears, because, maybe, she’d been selfish.

And, maybe, the only man who’d ever filled her heart, she was going to leave empty. Maybe she was going to leave the one person who truly cared with nothing but what he’d had before they’d met.

Guilt.

Loss.

Dying shouldn’t be so difficult.

But it was.

TWENTY

“H
ow is she?” Chief Deputy Mitchell crossed the waiting room in three long strides. Eyes shadowed, deep lines carved around his mouth, he looked like he’d aged a decade in the past few hours.

Jonas felt like he’d aged double that.

His bones ached from tension and fear and too many minutes spent frozen by the weight of what had happened.

Blood dripping.

Gabriella’s blood.

Skylar’s.

“The surgeon is getting ready to close her up. We’ll know more soon.”

“I’m sorry, Jonas. You can’t know how sorry I am.” Mitchell dropped onto a chair, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah. I think I can. The bullet that hit Skylar was meant for me.”

Just like before.

Only this time it was meant to kill him, not destroy him, and this time there’d been no shock as blood bubbled up. He’d seen the bullet coming just as he’d felt Skylar slam into his chest.

Felt her fall.

Blood seeping.

He paced across the room, shoving the image aside.

Skylar was alive. Had been conscious but fading when they’d lifted her onto the ambulance.

Fighting hard.

Just like she always did.

And he was praying hard, like he hadn’t in a long time.

He had to believe God’s answer would mean Skylar’s life.

Had to.

“You okay?” Mitchell handed him a cup of coffee.

“Are you?”

“Smithson was my boss. I’m a police officer. It doesn’t make sense that I didn’t know what he was capable of. If I’d been on the ball, I would have closed him down years ago. Booked him for tampering with evidence or withholding it or whatever would get him thrown in jail for the longest amount of time. I wasn’t, and two people are dead. An innocent woman is…” He shook his head, sipped coffee.

“She’s going to be okay.”

“So is he. The miserable excuse for a—”

“Throwing names around won’t do anyone any good. Better to throw the book at him.”

“Believe me, we’re going after him with everything we have. The doctor is dressing the bullet wound, and then we’ll drag him out of here in cuffs. We’ve already got him for attempted murder. We’ll see what else we can find.”

“Any hope for his son getting justice?”

“He got it. Gary Smithson is facing a far more permanent justice than I could enforce right now.”

“Don’t get bitter, Mitchell. It won’t serve the community or you.”

“You’re right. Sorry. This is eating at me. An officer of the law serves the people. Not himself.”

“Smithson had it backward.”

“And upside down. Sideways.” He ran a hand over his jaw,
shook his head. “Lots of dark stuff in this town, Sampson. It makes a guy wonder. We brought the Clovis brothers in an hour ago. They’re trying to pin Redmond’s murder on Gary Smithson.”

“It’s easy to blame something on a guy who’s dead.”

“Apparently so, because they’re also claiming Gary murdered Josiah Stanley.”

“You think it’s true?”

“I don’t know, but they’re accessories one way or another. Whatever else we find, they’ll be going to prison for a long time.”

“Good.” But Jonas wasn’t interested in who’d be in jail on what charges. He wasn’t interested in how many bad guys Cave Creek Sheriff’s Department would throw the book at.

All he was interested in was seeing the waiting room door open and the surgeon walk in.

Please, God, let Skylar be okay.

“Listen, maybe this isn’t the time or the place, but we have a slot to fill on the force. We need a guy like you to fill it.”

“You’re offering me the job?” Surprised, he faced Mitchell.

“I can’t think of anyone else I’d want to offer it to. You have a reputation in your field that I think will carry over well into police work.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to have to pass.” He had another offer to accept. The same one that had been extended to him every year since he’d left the Shadow Wolves.

He was going back to the job he loved.

Whatever happened today.

But, please, let it be different than before.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I won’t change my mind, but thanks.”

“I’m going to head back to the station. We’ve got the state police coming in to start the internal investigation. My
life is about to get really messy. You have my card, right? Call if—”

The door opened, and Jonas whirled around.

“Jonas!” His father raced toward him, Rayne and Debby hot on his heels.

“How is she?”

“Still in surgery.”

“What are the doctors saying?” Rayne asked.

“Broken clavicle. Some internal bleeding. Punctured lung.”

“We’ve been praying all the way here. For her and for you. You’re both going to be okay. I know you will be.” Debby’s arms wrapped around him, and she hugged him tightly.

“Don’t smother him, Mom. He’s been through a lot. He needs some space.”

“Mr. Sampson?” A young woman walked toward them.

Surgical scrubs.

Careful meeting of the eye.

Sadness? Regret?

Please.

“I’m Jonas Sampson.” His heart thundered in his chest.

“I’m Dr. Radcliff, the surgeon in charge of Skylar Grady’s case. You’re listed as next of kin.”

“That’s right.” His family closed ranks around him, Debby’s arm around his waist. Rayne crossing hers at the small of his back. His father’s hand pressed to his shoulder.

His family.

And he wanted so desperately for Skylar to be part of it.

“I just finished closing her wound. There wasn’t as much damage as we first thought. The lung is contused, but not punctured. We stopped one large bleeder, used a plate and screws to rebuild the shattered clavicle. She has a hairline fracture in her left fibula, but that should heal without inter
vention. She’ll be sore for a while, but, barring any unforeseen complications, she should be fine.”

Thank You, Lord.

“When can I see her?”

“I planned to hold off on visits until tomorrow, but…she’s awake and asking for you. Is actually quite insistent that she see you. I don’t want her agitated, and I don’t want to give her a sedative. Go on up, but don’t wear her out. The more rest she gets, the more quickly she’ll heal. Room twenty. Second floor. I’m afraid I can only allow one visitor for tonight.” She offered an apologetic smile to his family, a quick goodbye to all of them and walked away.

Jonas offered his own quick goodbye to his parents and Rayne, then jogged to the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time.

He knocked on the half-open door, walked in.

Saw her covered to her chin in blankets and bandages. Swollen lip. Swollen cheek. Pale, bruised skin.

“Sky?” He touched her temple, the only place on her that didn’t seem bruised or bandaged or hurting.

“Go away.” But she reached blindly for his hand, held tightly.

“Is that any way to talk to the man who pulled you from a burning car?”

“It is when he wakes me up.” She offered a wan smile, opened her eyes.

“Were you really sleeping?”

“Pretending to be so that the nurses would stop coming in to take my temperature.”

“How many times have they been in?”

“Once, but I get irritable when I’ve been shot.”

“Only you would have reason to know something like that, Grady.” He chuckled, the sound hot and raw with everything he felt.

Relief.

Concern.

Love.

“Yeah, well, I’d prefer not to test the knowledge again.”

“I’d prefer you not, either. My life is way too boring without you in it.” He pulled over a chair and sat, his legs shaky from relief. Weak from it.

“I was thinking something when I was lying on the ground with that bullet in me,” she said, her voice raspy and frail. “I was thinking that maybe what I’d done was selfish. Just like you said when I untied the rope on the mesa. I was thinking that if I died, you’d be right back where you were before we met. I didn’t want to die before I made sure that you were going to be okay.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, each one shattering a piece of Jonas’s heart.

“Only you would worry about the living when you thought you were dying.” He kissed her bruised knuckles, her swollen fingers. “And, for the record, no matter what happened, I wouldn’t have been the same man you met in the desert. You changed me, Skylar. Made me realize I was clinging to the past more than I was moving toward the future.”

“I’m glad.” Her eyes drifted closed, her grip easing. “And, for the record, you’ve changed me, too.”