My father, Stuart Nelson.
I struggled against him. I wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with why he suddenly stopped in his tracks, but he bent and laid me down in the middle of a dirt driveway. He didn’t hesitate to grab my incapacitated arm and flex my elbow out further. I cried out from the extreme amount of white-hot pain that shot through me.
My eyes glazed with tears and short breaths wheezed from my lungs, but I wasn’t capable of fighting him off. Thankfully, as he rotated my arm and applied some pressure behind it, something in my shoulder popped back into place. The lingering pain was nothing compared to the immediate relief I found.
“Anna…? Baby girl, can you hear me?”
That voice… It had to be a hallucination. I couldn’t fathom that the man who killed my mother was referring to me in terms of endearment. As if he hadn’t ripped my heart out of my chest twenty-two years ago when he burned my mother alive and left me to live with the mental and physical scars his actions had caused.
Wailing sirens sounded in the distance and, out of my peripheral vision, I saw a speeding truck with flashing red lights barreling up the secluded road leading to the abandoned barn. Someone was coming to help me. That’s when I realized Dan was missing. Was he okay? Had my father killed him to…get to me? A sense of dread washed over me. Oh God, no! Please let him be okay.
Anger, bright and hot, flashed through me.
As my father leaned over me, brushing my hair from my eyes, I shoved my foot into his chest and kicked out, catching him off guard and knocking him backward. I flipped over to scramble to my feet, but he quickly regained his balance and grabbed me by my ankle before I had the chance. “Anna, wait!” he growled.
Panting, I spun around and tried to hit him with my good arm, but he caught my wrist mid-swing. Those small efforts left me winded, but I had to do everything in my power to get away from him.
“Stop fighting me and let me help you.”
I battled weakly against his grip as the roaring truck skidded to a halt only yards away from where my father held me captive in his tight grasp. The driver’s door flew open and Cowboy leaped out, pistol in hand. “Let her go,” he said firmly, lifting his arm and aiming the gun at my father’s head to punctuate his demand.
Stuart glared at him. “You’re making a big mistake.”
Cowboy’s eyes narrowed and his jaw twitched as he cocked the hammer back. “No, you made the fucking mistake by coming after her. Now step away from her, or it won’t be your last.” His even tone had a convincing edge to it.
My father released my arm and stepped back.
I scrambled to my shaky feet and stumbled toward Cowboy, who met me halfway. Out of breath, I fell just as he reached me. Wrapping his free arm around me, he tried to hoist me back up, but in my breathless state, I collapsed onto the ground and coughed violently.
He knelt beside me, keeping his gun trained on my father. “You okay, darlin’?” His voice was thick with fear and strained with worry. Tears of relief overwhelmed me, but I managed to nod. He pulled me tight against his chest and I moaned at the pain radiating up my arm. Loosening his grip, he looked me over, frowning. “Whose blood is that?” he asked, eyeing the dried red streaks running down my arm.
“Mine,” I wheezed out.
Cowboy’s eyes took on a wild, untamed glaze and shifted back to Stuart. “You sonofabitch!” His index finger curled around the trigger.
“No, d-don’t,” I whispered, my scratchy voice sounding strange even to me.
“Damn it, Anna! He tried to kill you.”
“I didn’t hurt her,” Stuart said calmly.
The death grip Cowboy held on his pistol tightened even more. “I’ve seen dozens of scars on her body that beg to differ.”
Stuart’s face twisted with something strangely resembling pain or possibly agony as his eyes darted to me. “Baby girl, we need to talk about your mother. You need to know I—”
“You’re talking to me now,” Cowboy growled, cutting off Stuart’s words. “Not her. Don’t address her. Don’t even fucking look at her.” He stood and, taking a few steps forward, fine-tuned his aim directly at my father’s head. “If you have something to say, you say it to me…and only me. Got it?”
The corner of Stuart’s mouth twitched and amusement lit his eyes.
“Keep smiling, you sick sonofabitch. I dare you.”
The overriding fury in Cowboy’s caustic voice frightened me, and a shiver ran the length of my spine. His posture stiffened and his body quivered with undeniable rage. Intense green eyes held Stuart’s as if Cowboy were waiting for the man to give him a reason to shoot him. But would Cowboy actually pull the trigger?
Several vehicles with flashing red and blue lights slowed out on the main road and turned onto the long dark driveway leading to the barn. But their howling sirens had nothing on the warning bells going off in my head.
From what I could tell, Stuart was keeping his distance and no longer posed a threat to anyone, including me. If Cowboy’s wrath unraveled any more, it was possible he would snap and do the unthinkable. Not that Stuart Nelson didn’t deserve it. He did. But I wasn’t about to let Cowboy commit murder for me. Which is exactly what he would be doing if he shot an unarmed man.
“Don’t,” I said, though it came out as barely a whisper. “Please, Cowboy.”
He didn’t even look at me. “Why not? He deserves it after what he put you through. At most, it’s justifiable homicide. He tried to kill you tonight.”
I shook my head and cleared my raw throat. “H-he didn’t. I don’t know why, but…he pulled me away from the fire.”
Cowboy paused. “Even so, if he wouldn’t have started the fire to begin with—”
“I started the fire,” I admitted.
Finally, he glanced over, his gaze meeting mine. “You set the barn on fire?” he asked, confusion slanting his lips.
Still trying to catch my breath, I nodded. “It was an accident.” I coughed so hard, I ended up gasping for my next breath.
Two Liberty County Sheriff cruisers, three fire engines, and an ambulance pulled onto the scene. An older sheriff with a mustache slid out of the car closest to me and pulled out the gun in his hip holster. He kept it lowered, but held it ready in his hand for any sign of trouble. “Cowboy, lower your weapon.”
Slowly, Cowboy brought his arm down to his side, pointing his pistol at the ground, but kept his piercing eyes on Stuart.
“Now, would someone tell me what the hell is going on here?” the sheriff asked, as if he were puzzled as to why we were all standing around watching an old barn burn to the ground.
“This man is Stuart Nelson, a convicted murderer who was recently released from prison. He’s been stalking Anna Weber, the only surviving victim of a fire this man started twenty-two years ago.”
The sheriff’s face hardened and his eyes zeroed in on me. “Is this true?”
Still coughing and feeling short of breath, I answered again with a quick nod.
The sheriff and the two deputies flanking him turned all their attention on my father. “Lie face down and put your hands behind your back.”
“Maybe I can clear up some of the confusion,” Stuart said, addressing the sheriff directly.
“On the ground. Now,” the sheriff ordered, approaching him cautiously.
“Okay, fine,” Stuart responded, dropping to his knees. “But my daughter and her friend are in need of medical attention. They were both locked in the barn when the fire broke out. The old man is still lying in the field on the east side of the barn. I left him there in order to get Anna to safety. I think he has a broken leg.”
Dan? He’s alive? Thank God!
The sheriff motioned for his deputies to check on Dan and then his eyes cut to me and his brows pinched together. “Daughter?” he repeated.
With just that one word, my breath backed up into my chest and my body went numb. I gasped for air, but it was like my lungs didn’t know what to do with it. Now that the perceived danger was gone, emotions overwhelmed me and tears of relief swept over me.