Dryden cocked his head to the side. “Now why would I do that? She’s the reason I escaped. I’m not leaving her behind. Well, not alive, anyway.”
“You’ll never make it out of here.”
Dryden looked away from Trent as if dismissing him and stared down at Risa.
One slice of the blade and she would be dead. Trent had to keep Dryden’s attention until backup arrived. He took a step toward Dryden.
“Stop right there, Burnell.”
Trent kept his gaze riveted to Dryden’s face, resisting the temptation to meet Risa’s eyes. Once he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull his focus away, and he needed to stay riveted on Dryden.
Dryden loved to show how clever he was, how superior. A tendency Trent might be able to use to his advantage until backup arrived.
Where the hell were those sirens?
“There aren’t too many who have fooled me in my career, Dryden. But you did. How?”
“Why? Are you writing a book, too?”
“You let Nikki make that call.”
“You don’t think I’d be careless enough to leave a phone sitting around, do you?”
“And you knew who she would call.”
“Big sis, of course. Nikki would never have the guts to turn herself in. Not after helping me kill. You didn’t know your little sister was a killer, did you big sis?” He glanced down at Rees, his face inches from hers. Darting his tongue between thin lips, he ran the tip from her chin to her hairline.
Risa recoiled.
For a moment, Trent balled his hands into fists, then he made his fingers relax. He couldn’t let Dryden see that he’d gotten under his skin. He had to play it cool until backup arrived. He had to keep the conversation going. “But you couldn’t have known what would happen after that.”
“I knew exactly what would happen. You would shut her away somewhere you thought she’d be safe. And then you and your legions in blue would rush in to save the day.”
Trent flinched inwardly. He’d indeed shuttled Rees off to the police station because he thought she’d be safer there. Safer away from the action, away from flying bullets, away from him. He’d thought he was protecting her, and here he’d put her in danger. He’d played right into Dryden’s hands.
Dryden had profiled him.
“You really are predictable, Burnell. All that was left for me to do was kill the few cops at the station and collect my prize.”
Like hell. Trent tensed, ready to spring.
Sirens carried on the still air, their screams faint in the distance.
Dryden jerked his head in the sound’s direction.
Rees’s elbow shot back, slamming into Dryden’s ribs.
The breath left his lungs in a whoosh. He folded in the middle, protecting his ribs from another blow.
She lurched away from him, sprawling to the forest’s floor. Out of Dryden’s grip. Away from his blade. Out of Trent’s line of fire.
His gun.
Trent lunged forward, falling to his knees in the clump of raspberry. He clawed through the bushes. Thorns tore into his flesh.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rees scramble to her feet just as Dryden grabbed for her. His hand closed around her arm.
Abandoning the gun, Trent bolted for them. He slammed into Dryden full speed, knocking the killer to the ground, landing on top of him.
“Run, Rees!”
Trent slammed a fist into Dryden’s face, the force shuddering up his arm. He punched a second time. It wasn’t until he drew back his arm to hit him a third that Trent felt cold slice into his side, just below the rib cage.
Dryden pulled the blade back and thrust it at him again.
Trent caught Dryden’s arm, pulling it back, holding it down. He slammed the killer’s arm against the ground, once, twice, trying to jar the weapon free.
Dryden’s free hand found his face. Fingers clawed and jabbed his eyes.
Trent turned his head, trying to protect himself. Trying to see. Dryden’s knife hand slipped in his grip.
Trent dug his fingers into the killer’s wrist. Even in the heat of battle, he could feel the sticky wetness soaking his shirt, draining his strength. He had to hold on. He couldn’t let Dryden work his knife arm free. He couldn’t—
A thud sounded near his ear.
Dryden’s head whipped to the side. Trent saw a flash of movement as Rees’s foot drew back again. Careening forward, her boot landed with another thud against Dryden’s temple. Then another. A scream built and burst from her, echoing through the trees, and she kicked and kicked until Dryden dropped the knife, and his clawing fingers stilled.
Sirens screamed in the distance, winding their way toward the Lilac Inn.
Rees fell to her knees beside him. “I couldn’t find the gun. I couldn’t—”
A smile crept over his face despite the pain in his side. “Nice kick.”
“I… I wanted to kill him. I just couldn’t stop.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Is he dead?”
Trent reached for Dryden’s throat, intending to check for a pulse. The pain in his side stopped him.
“You’re hurt.”
Trent looked down at his blood soaked shirt. Knife wound. Could be bad. “Nikki is all right, Rees. She’s safe.”
Tears blossomed in Risa’s eyes.
He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her it was over. All over. But first he had to make sure Dryden wouldn’t hurt anyone ever again.
Setting his teeth against the pain, Trent checked Dryden’s pockets and retrieved a key. “Cuffs?”
Risa stretched her bound hands toward him. He unlocked the handcuffs and handed them to her. “You’d better do this.”
She rolled Dryden face down and clicked the bracelets on his wrists.
The sirens were growing louder now, winding their way up the long driveway.
Hands now free, Risa quickly unbuttoned Trent’s shirt and pulled it off him. Wadding it into a ball, she held it against the wound in his side and pressed down hard. “Lean back.”
Trent did as ordered. Fate had given him another chance. At life. At love. At happiness. And he needed all the strength he could muster to grab it and hold on with both hands.
He had only to find the right words. His gaze dropped from her face and landed on the long cut between her breasts marring her perfect skin. His gut clenched, sending pain shooting up his side. “He cut you, too.”
He struggled to sit up.
She pushed him back down. “It hurts like hell, but it’s shallow. Really.”
Dizziness hovered on the edge of Trent’s mind. “I have to say something… before I pass out.”
“Trent, maybe you should—”
“Please.”
She nodded.
“You were right, Rees. About all of it.”
Worry creased her forehead and clouded her eyes.
He needed to explain. To make her understand. He needed to let her know she could believe this time.
That he believed.
He found her hands at his side and covered them with his own. “These past two years I’ve been letting him beat me. Bit by bit. Piece by piece.”
Cars screeched to a stop in the distance. Shouted orders bounced off the trees.
Tears welled in Risa’s eyes and spiked her lashes. She opened her mouth to speak.
“Wait. Hear me out. I want to make you understand.”
“I do understand.”
“Then I want to say it, make it real.”