Revenge (27 page)

She drew back with a frown marring her features.

Movement behind her snagged Remy's attention. Anderson was watching them. Ignoring the stab of pain that wasn't caused by his injuries, he tucked a coiled lock behind Cody's ear.

“I saw you a few nights ago on Bourbon . . . with Anderson.”

The joy he'd seen on her face from the moment he'd been freed from his bonds faded. “It was all an act, Remy. A means to try and get you to come out in the open.”

“On your end, maybe.”

“Remy, he's your partner. Don't ruin it over a stupid jealous streak.” She caressed his face, being careful not to bump his bruises. “I love you. My heart belongs to you. No one else. And that's all that should matter.”

He attempted to give her a smile, but it hurt too damn much. “For true.” A stinger from his bullet wound zapped him. Slowly, Remy brought his good arm up to massage his shoulder. He needed to get to a hospital.

The other three approached him and Cody, with Kim wandering around from the right side of the Escalade. The large bruise on the side of her face shocked Remy. What had happened to her?

“Here's the breakdown,” Anderson said.

Bon Dieu
, it was difficult to see his partner in full battle mode when Remy was used to seeing him only as a detective.

“Luc and Vic are staying behind to clean up the scene. They're gonna stage it to make it appear like they all did each other in.” Anderson pointed to himself and Cody. “Cody and I are taking you,” he pointed at Remy, “and Kim back to Vic's place. We'll do a bit of a cleanup before we go to a doctor who'll patch you up and not say a word. I really don't want to walk in looking like Rambo.”

“Why do I have to go?” Kim asked, her voice slurred.

“'Cause, darlin', you were jacked up on something, and I think you might drop.”

Cody stood to face her best friend. “Kim, we need to make sure you're okay.”

Remy caught the infliction in Cody's tone. They were worried Paul or Jason may have assaulted Kim without her knowledge. Regret churned in Remy. Had he known she was in that factory with him, he would've done something, anything to protect her.

“I'm fine.” Kim shrugged Cody's hand from her shoulder. “They were too busy worrying about who I really was to do anything.”

Anderson moved toward her and she side-stepped his reach. Through his swollen eyes Remy saw the hurt flash across his partner's face. Had Kim noticed something going on with Anderson and Cody, too?

Cody intervened, cupping her friend's elbow and escorting her out of sight. Anderson watched them go.

“While that sounds nice and pat, forensics will find something,” Remy told them. “Smashed bullets can be traced back to weapons.”

“We took care of that before getting here,” his partner said absentmindedly.

Meaning they filed off the batch numbers on the bullets before loading them. Why did Remy worry? His partner was a homicide detective; he knew exactly what another detective and the crime techs would search for.

“If anyone gets too suspicious, I know how to detour it,” Vic added.

Good ole New Orleans corruption at its best. Remy let a smile play with a corner of his bruised mouth. “Everything thought out.”

“Almost. I wish I could dump Paul's body in the bayou like my parents.”

“There's still time.”

A sly grin danced across Vic's lips. “True, but I think the city should find out who he really was instead of making him disappear.”

“They'll make a martyr out of him.”

“Not on my watch.”

Cody returned to his side, a worried knot stitched along her forehead. Whatever had been said between her and Kim must not be good. Cody pulled out a rag from a small box that was sitting in the back of the Escalade and pressed it against his shoulder wound.

“Let's roll, Marine,” she said. “I want to make sure it's nothing more than few injured ribs.”

As Remy stared at her, his vision turned hazy. But he was still able to notice the sudden lack of color in her face.

“Remy. Oh, my God, he's turning gray!”

An excruciating spasm gouged him. He threw his head back and cried out. The pain left him gasping.

A warm hand on his arm helped support him. “Hang on, LeBeau.”

Black spots converged on the edge of Remy's vision. Damn it, he was passing out.

The last thing he heard before the darkness dragged him under was Cody's sweet accent in his ear. “I love you, Cajun.”

Silence ruled inside the truck, the only noise coming from the diesel engine. Cody wished someone would say something. The lack of communication was letting her worry over the unconscious man half laying on her lap take control.

She stroked aside Remy's blood-matted hair, and let the tips of her fingers glide along his battered, whiskered cheek. His breathing was shallow, and his pulse thready. Would her efforts to rescue him be squashed by an unseen killer? Had the beating he took caused internal bleeding?

Tears coated her eyes, and she bit her lip. Heath's reflection in the rearview mirror gave her pause. His dirt and paint-streaked face couldn't hide the wrinkled eyebrows or the lines etched into his forehead. He was thinking the same thing.

The plan was to meet the doctor at Vic's house. If Remy's condition warranted the hospital, the doctor would take it from there. Cody couldn't convince a single one of them to take him straight to the hospital. Vic was insistent that taking a “dead” man to the hospital would bring unwanted attention they couldn't afford to have right now. Her doctor friend would be able to cover their tracks if Remy needed to be there.

Cody prayed they weren't already too late.

She tore her gaze from Heath's reflection and stared out the window. The sun's last hold on the earth was coming to an end. Cody checked the dashboard clock and did a double-take. It was past eight
p.m.
Quickly, she calculated what day it was—June fifth. While not the longest day of the year, it was certainly the longest one of her life, and it had yet to end.

Remy twitched under her hand but didn't wake.

Her fingers curled inward, the ragged tips of her nails scraped against her palm.
Wake up. Don't you dare die on me.

Heath slowed the truck and turned onto the road that followed the southern shore of Lake Pontchartrain. No speeding to prevent cops from pulling them over. A mile or so and they'd arrive at Vic's. They had the garage access code to get inside and hide their activities from the neighbors.

Remy's arm spasmed, convulsing on his bare chest. Cody grasped his hand and squeezed; it seemed to calm him. She brought his hand to her mouth and pressed her lips to his cracked knuckles. Closing her eyes, she willed her strength into him.

God, help him!

“Cody?” Kim's soft voice dragged her eyes open.

The pity on her friend's face struck a match to her irritation. Kim had acted like such a child back there at the factory when Heath tried to reach for her. It grated, after all the crap they'd been through. After what Heath went through to rescue Kim. Now she wanted to show pity?

Before Cody could say anything, the truck rumbled over the pock-marked road. Heath pulled into the driveway, avoiding the man standing on the edge of the pavement. Putting the truck into park, he jumped out of the cab and headed for the access panel outside the garage.

The man spoke to him, then hurried to his car parked on the street.

Cody twined her fingers between Remy's. He would live. God wouldn't be so cruel to let her get this far only to rip him away from her forever.

Heath hopped into the cab, pulled his door in, though he didn't shut it, and shifted the truck into gear. Once he had the truck parked inside the garage, he cut the engine and exited quickly.

Cody remained in her seat, waiting for the garage door to close. She placed her free hand over Remy's forehead. “Fight for me,” she whispered.

The doctor pried open the door on the other side of her and nodded. “Ma'am.” He did a quick exam, his nimble fingers probing Remy's torso. His features tightened as he withdrew.

Fear slammed into her like a horse kick to the gut.

Heath opened her door and beckoned her out. “The doc and I need to get him inside.”

Swallowing the bitter taste from her mouth, Cody carefully slid out from under Remy's body and dropped onto the garage floor with a thunk. She dragged herself into the house, waiting in the laundry room for the men to carry Remy inside.

Kim flitted past, avoiding Cody's gaze, and disappeared further into the house. Cody followed, entering the kitchen. The destruction done to the room earlier still remained. The fear she tried to stuff down clawed at her chest and throat.

At the shuffle of feet, Cody turned, watching Heath and the doctor lug Remy's limp body past. They carried him into the main area of the house, with her trailing after. Kim had laid a thick pallet of blankets on the floor in the entryway, where there was more room to move around, and backed away as the men laid Remy on top.

“Cody.”

She flinched, then her gaze jerked to Heath.

He pointed at the kitchen. “Get some water so we can clean away some of this blood.”

Woodenly, she left the room and went back to the kitchen. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found a large bowl. Before she set it in the sink, she hesitated. Remy's Ruger lay where it had been discarded. Tucking the bowl in the crook of her arm, she picked up his weapon and cradled it against her chest. This time the tears escaped. She sniffed, then coughed. There wasn't time to cry, not with Remy's life in the balance. Setting the Ruger aside, she placed the bowl in the sink and twisted the faucet. Water slapped against the bottom of the bowl, drowning the murmuring voices coming from the other room. Cody turned from the sink and searched for a few rags or towels to use. Once she located them, she ceased the flow of water, and carried the bowl into the entryway.

Heath finished setting up an IV line, handing the bag to Kim to hold so he could take the water from Cody. The pinched lines on his face made her want to scream for them to hurry up. She could sense Remy's life slipping away with every minute.

The doctor leaned over Remy's body, muttering. When he reared back, he snapped his finger at Kim. “We need an ambulance. Call them now.” He held out his hand to take the saline bag.

As Kim bent to hand it to him, a swirl of evil vibes cloaked the room. Cody turned, her hand darting behind her back. She recognized those sensations. A crack rent the air, making Kim screech.

Heath bolted to his feet, reaching for his sidearm and blocking Cody. Four rapid-fire shots slammed into him, making him dance like a puppet on strings.

She slid the Kimber free of the holster, clicked the safety off, and twisted around Heath's falling body. Her vision narrowed on the man advancing toward her. She gripped the butt with both hands, leveling it on Jared Savard. His hate-filled eyes landed on her, and she fired three times. The shots drove him back into a wall and he slumped to the floor. Blood bloomed on his shirtfront.

Side-stepping Heath's prone body, Cody marched across the floor to Jared and ripped the gun from his twitching hand. Blood bubbled out of his mouth. He stared at her with deadening eyes. His mouth formed the word no, bloody teeth gaping past his lips.

She leveled her gun at his forehead. “Rot in hell.” She fired, the bullet striking him in the center of his head. Brain and blood splattered her. Turning from the dead man, Cody grabbed the sleeve of her T-shirt and tried to clean the gore from her face.

When her narrowed focus widened, she gasped. Kim was bent over Heath, sobbing and shaking him. The doctor tried pulling her off.

Cody hurried back, dropping her knees and sliding to a stop next to Heath's side. “Kim, move!”

The doctor managed to yank Kim back.

Scanning Heath's body, Cody frowned. Where was the blood? He'd taken four bullets. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanked the hem free of his pants and rolled it up. Her fingers fumbled when the black vest appeared.

Suddenly his eyes flared open and he sucked air. “Shit, that hurts.”

A collective sigh escaped from Cody and the doctor. Kim bowed over Heath to kiss him on the forehead. “Thank God,” she whispered.

“This is all fine and dandy, but I have a man bleeding out on me,” the doctor barked. “Get that damn ambulance here.”

Kim scrambled onto her feet and ran for the nearest phone. The doctor resumed his attempts to stabilize Remy. Flopping on her rear, Cody watched the doctor as her adrenaline rush crashed. His words rekindled the fearful firestorm inside of her.

Remy was dying.

After a near smackdown fight ending with Cody screaming that she was riding with the doctor to the hospital, Heath let her go. Before she left, he took her gun for the detectives when they arrived. They could risk that much exposure because Cody killing Jared was a justifiable homicide.

Now she sat in the OR waiting room, helpless. She couldn't grieve, she could barely think, and the hurt she wanted to feel was buried under a heap of numbness. Somewhere inside she sensed a tiny spark. Hope. Hope that Remy wasn't going to be ripped away from her like her momma had been.

If he was, at least they hadn't exchanged angry words. Only love.

God, save me; I'm drowning.

Suddenly, the need to use the restroom was overwhelming, and she staggered to the door down the hall marked with a little stick figure wearing a skirt. It was a single stall bathroom and free. Locking herself in, Cody braced her bloodied hands on the edge of the sink, then slowly tipped her head up to the mirror. Haunted green eyes stared back at her from a colorless face speckled with blood. Her image melted into a fuzzy haze until she saw only the parade of memories. Memories of her and Remy. Would that be all she had left of him?