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“Alright. Here.” I press the pistol I took off the Surgeon’s body into the palm of her hand.
“Get behind that boulder.” I gesture at the wedge shaped lump of limestone. It looks like it tumbled down the mountainside a long time ago, scouring a patch where the trees are shorter and younger. “If I go down, pop up, shoot until the magazine is empty, and run like hell.”
“If you go down?” she gasps. “Cole, let’s just run. Let’s just get out of here. Enough people have been hurt because of me.”
I take her hand and tug her toward the boulder.
“Let’s get one thing straight right now, Twinkletoes. You keep saying that people are getting hurt because of you. That’s bullshit.”
She gasps, and turns a glare on me.
“Excuse me? We could be about to die and you want to do this now?”
“I’ve put it off for too long. People are getting hurt because of Lovejoy. Not you. It’s not your fault, any of it. You’re kind, and decent, and caring.”
Emory blinks her sky blue eyes, lips parting as she absorbs what I’ve said.
“Do you believe me, Emory? Do you believe that it’s not your fault?”
Her gaze hardens, and she nods.
“Yes, I do.”
“Good.”
I can’t hold back another moment. I ravish her lips with every bit of pent-up need I have in me. I don’t let myself think that this could be the last kiss. But I’m kissing her like it is.
The sound of stones skittering down the embankment draws us back to reality. I pull her behind the boulder and then brace my arm on its surface, gun pointed toward the direction of the sound. The direction our enemies are coming from.
I take all of my fear of losing Emory, my boiling rage at Lovejoy, and feed it to the fire. Cold, focused, I have no difficulty taking aim as Banner and Lovejoy enter the gulch, guns drawn. Banner spots me and takes aim.
“I see them! Behind the boulder!”
I squeeze the trigger. A shot rings out at the same moment Blumbert’s head snaps back. He reaches up and touches the red line dribbling down his forehead before collapsing backward.
Lovejoy spins around in a circle, dropping into a crouch. He's clearly had training, but not much experience. He should have gotten behind the trunk of a nearby tree, for better cover.
“It’s over, Lovejoy,” I growl. “Throw down your gun and I’ll take you in alive. Make any other other move and I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
Lovejoy’s eyes widen. “Oh, is that so? I guess you have the drop on me. Well, I’m not throwing my gun down, but you’re not going to shoot me, either.”
I snort with utter contempt. Emory grabs my sleeve.
“Don’t engage with him. He’ll get inside your head.”
“Just let him try. I’m not losing you, Emory. I’m not losing anyone ever again because I wasn’t good enough.”
Emory’s lips twist into a frown. But Lovejoy heard me, as well.
“You’re afraid of losing Emmy, aren’t you, Cole?” Lovejoy smirks, peering toward our boulder cover. I can tell he’s trying to figure out if he’s good enough of a shot to take me out even with my advantage of cover. I wouldn’t try it if I were him but I remain wary. Everyone has a shooter’s chance of hitting their target through blind luck if nothing else.
“Shut up. You don’t get to talk. And her name isn’t Emmy.”
“Oh, I touched a nerve, didn’t I, Mr. Drake?” His smirk grows wider. “You see, once I found out who was guarding my Emmy, I found out all I could about you. Decorated as hell, you’re like the ultimate soldier. But as badass as you are, you choke when it really counts.”
“I told you not to talk to him,” Emory says. “Don’t listen.”
“You don’t know anything about me, Lovejoy. I’m going to count to ten, and if that gun isn’t on the ground, then you will be. That’s a promise.”
