Page 52 of Property of Rattler

Gone is the man who shared his darkest secrets with me a moment before. Missing is the lover who’d kissed me so tenderly, then rejected me all in the same minute.

“Get going, Ames,” he screeches. “Run. Your brother’s coming, and he’s close.”

Oh shit no. Running forward, I grab hold of his hand. “You’re coming with me.”

He pushes me away, so hard I stumble. “I can’t fuckin’ run, you know that. Just go. I’ll be fine. The club’s on its way.”

“Flynn…”

“Go, Ames,” he roars. “Just get the fuck out of here.”

“I’ll stay. I can shoot.”

“I know you can. But fuckin’ run. I can protect myself, but I can’t if you distract me. Ames, for fuck’s sake, just run. Keep running, don’t stop.”

I glance at the mountain towering over us. It’s high, but then we’re already a good few thousand feet up. “You can make it.”

“I can’t.” He pauses a moment, then adds, “It’s only Malachi. I’ll take him out. Then you’ll be free. Go, run. I can handle him, but I won’t take a chance of you catching a stray bullet.”

Flynn can take one man, I’m certain he can. “Are you sure it’s only him coming?”

“Yeah, Bullseye told me. You get yourself safe, so I can concentrate.”

His voice is forceful, but I don’t believe him. Everything tells me to stay and fight.

Then his face tightens. “Ames, just do something fuckin’ useful for once. Get yourself the fuck out of here.” The lover is now totally gone. In its place is the asshole who’d first brought me here. “Run, before I shoot you myself.” He rolls his eyes. “Run, you stupid bitch.”

He’s gone cold. So cold, I half believe him. Was everything we’d been through together the last few days a lie?

As if he knows what I’m thinking, he says, “I was leading you on, wanting to get my dick wet. But now I’m focused on getting my money. And I won’t get that if you catch a stray bullet. Sodarlin’.” he sneers the endearment. “Fuckin’ run.” Then he turns his back and starts limping away from me.

What can I do? I run.

I run, and run, half-blinded by the tears running down my face. Nothing was real. His softening toward me was just a joke to get me into his bed. I’m as stupid as he just told me I was. Andto think I was trying to seduce him… I need my brains tested.It was all a lie.I run, putting one foot in front of the other.None of it was real.He’d just been leading me on. His confession, his history he told me… All of it was made up to get my sympathy. The way he held my hand, twisted the wedding ring on my finger…

Just after I break through the tree line, I stop.

What the fuck am I doing?I’m leaving Flynn there, barely mobile, when I could have been by his side providing backup.He turned nasty just to make me leave.Clarity hits me like a sledgehammer around the head as I cancel out the horrible words playing on repeat, and half close my eyes to picture him instead. His body language had screamed his concern for me.

Godfuckingdamn him for taking his job as protector so seriously.

I shouldn’t have left him.If it’s only one man he’s facing, perhaps he’ll be able to win, but I suspect he was lying about that.

While I’m now hidden by the trees, I have a direct line of sight back to the cabin. Crouching low, making sure I’m not visible from below, thanking whatever deity there might be that today I’m wearing a simple brown t-shirt and khaki shorts, which blend in. Deciding, if Malachi has someone with him, I’ll sneak back down and use the element of surprise to help him out, maybe be some kind of distraction to enable him to take a shot. Even if he swears at me for disobeying his order, at least he’ll be alive. We’ve come so far. If this were a romance, the trope would be enemies-to-lovers, or at least good friends. And friends don’t leave each other when one of their lives is in jeopardy.

I wait. For a few minutes, all I can hear is birdsong and the gentle breeze rustling through the trees. It seems wrong, as if nature should be able to sense the approach of somethingominous. Then I hear the sound of an engine. Straining my ears, I try to distinguish whether there’s more than one.

Oh fuck.It’s not one vehicle. It’s three driving up to the cabin, and then they disappear from my sight as they obviously park up front.How many men are in each car?My fist goes to my mouth. One thing’s for certain, Flynn’s outnumbered. Gunfire starts, shots firing rapidly.

Oh my God, is Flynn already dead?Rooted to the spot, I watch in morbid curiosity as men come to the rear of the cabin, throw something up at the back wall of what had been my bedroom, and watch helplessly as the logs explode. A gasp escapes as one of the men climbs up and enters the cabin via the hole.

I start to stand with the intention of going to help, then a helpless sob leaves my lips.There’s nothing I can do for Flynn now.To return would be suicide. Paralysed, I stay glued to the spot. It’s me that they want, not him. Maybe they’ll just disarm him and come searching for me.

No, he’s probably already dead.

Tears flood down my cheeks. I’m crying for Flynn, for the loss of what might-have-beens, for the thought I’ll never see him again. Asshole or not, I’d even started picturing a future with him, our marriage being not just on paper but real.

I waver, not knowing what to do, in shock perhaps. Unable to believe I’ll never see him again.