She prayed at last, and she prayed that he not be fooled into giving his life for hers…
The rifle exploded with a loud blast. Dust flew up, blinding Shannon. But she wasn't hit. He had aimed at the ground, right beside her feet. He aimed again, and she quickly closed her eyes as pieces of bark sheared from the tree and flew around at the impact of the explosion. Shannon choked and screamed deep in her throat. More shots exploded against the tree. She almost longed for him to hit her so that the torture of waiting for a bullet would end.
"Come on out, Slater. One of these shots is going to hit her! Or maybe one of them already has. Maybe she's screaming deep, deep down inside, and you can't hear her…but you can hear me. Come on out, Slater, you coward, damn you!"
There was a rustling sound behind them. Justin swung around, shooting at the bushes. Bracken broke and flew, and the earth was spewed up in a rain of dirt. But when the noise died away, there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Justin hunkered down in the dirt, looking anxiously around. The silence was awful. It dragged on forever.
Shannon thought that she might have passed out again. It seemed that she closed her eyes and opened them again, and the sun was falling. The sky was streaked with beautiful, dark colors. Twilight was coming on.
And she was still tied to the tree. Justin was less than ten feet away from her, his rifle over his knee. He still stared out into the bracken as the night fell.
A fly droned around Shannon's face, and landed on her arm. She leaned against the tree, desolate, despairing.
"I think I've killed him. I thought he was out there, but maybe I've killed him," Justin muttered to himself.
He twisted around and looked at Shannon and saw that her eyes were open. Low on the ground, he crawled to her. He reached up with his knife toward her head, and she wondered with horror what he intended to do. She tried not to shrink from him, but she was terrified, and she couldn't help it. He smiled, liking her fear.
But he didn't cut her. He slipped the blade into the rawhide tie that he had bound so tightly around her head. He slid it, and let the scarf gag fall from her face. She inhaled, gulping in air. She would have screamed, but it seemed like such a foolish thing to do. There was probably no one to hear her.
Maybe Malachi was dead. Justin had mowed down half the foliage around him, and sheared away rock and trees. He could easily have hit Malachi. He could be out there anywhere, lying injured, dead, dying…
Justin stretched his length against her body. She didn't kick him and she didn't speak. She stayed still, her head against the tree, and stared at him. He was insane, she decided. Some men would come back from the war and tremble through the night at the memories of the horrors they had seen…of the death they had themselves delivered. But Justin Waller had used the war. He had loved it, reveled in it. It had allowed him to rape and murder freely. And now it seemed that he had learned murder and rape as a way of life.
She would give him no satisfaction, she swore.
"You've nothing to say, sweet thing?" he whispered against her flesh. He touched her cheek and ran his hands down to her breast again. "Our time has come. Your lover is dead, and we have the whole night ahead of us. Your mouth is free. You can scream and scream and scream…"
She gazed at him. "You're pathetic," she said softly.
He grabbed her thigh, pinching it mercilessly. She wasn't going to cry out, but the pain came so fiercely that she did.
"Talk to me nicely, little girl. Talk to me nicely. Tell me that you won't take off again. No more tricks. And maybe, just maybe, if you're good, real, real good, I'll let you live."
She lifted her chin. She ignored his hand upon her thigh, inching up the satin of her gown. "Death might be very simple, Justin," she said.
He started to laugh again. "Yeah, it just might be. But you ain't going to die. Not until I'm through with you." He cupped her chin in a cruel grip and moved his face close to hers.
She managed to twist away. "I will throw up on you," she threatened. "I swear, I will throw up all over you. That drug is heaving up and down inside of me."
He jerked away from her as if he had been burned. He stared at her, and then he chuckled and stroked her chin again. "You are a one, Miss Shannon McCahy. I've waited a long time for a woman the likes of you. A long time."
He leaned toward her again. She prayed that the earth would open up and swallow them whole.
The earth did not open up, but there was suddenly a massive rustling in the bushes near the road. Justin jerked away from her and stood up on the balls of his feet with his rifle ready. Shannon watched him with renewed fear. "Son of a bitch! Sit tight, sweetheart. I'll be back, and we won't waste any more time." He jumped close to the tree, then bent down and disappeared into the low brush.
Shannon strained frantically against the ropes that bound her. Maybe Malachi lived. Maybe he was out there thrashing around, needing help. Justin would hunt him down. He would hunt him down and shoot him between the eyes. Justin Waller might be a raving lunatic, but he had fought with the bushwhackers, and he had learned a lot about guerrilla warfare. He was wiry and athletic. He was an able opponent. Malachi…
"Watch out!" she screamed aloud. "Malachi! If you're there, watch out!"
Justin did not return to shut her up. She bit her lip, looking to the bracken. Night was just starting to fall. Suddenly, from around the tree, a hand fell over her mouth. Fear curdled within her again. With wide, startled eyes she twisted around.
It was Malachi. He had found his hat. It sat jauntily atop his head, the brim low, sheltering his eyes. He brought a finger to his lips, and she exhaled, so dizzy with relief that she nearly fell. Hunched down low beside her, he smiled the crooked, rueful smile that had stolen her heart.
"Are you all right?" he asked her swiftly.
She nodded. "Malachi—"
"He didn't—he didn't hurt you?"
"He hasn't had much time. He's been watching for you through the day. Oh, Malachi! Be careful! Please, just get me out of here. He's dangerous. He's sick. He's—"
"Shh!" He brought his finger to his lips again. He seemed to hear something that she could not. "Can you make it just a few minutes longer?"
"Malachi—"
"Can you?"
"Yes, of course, but—"
"Shh!" He didn't untie her. He slunk back into the brush behind the tree.
"No!" Shannon whispered. She heard the branches breaking and a soft tread upon the earth. Justin Waller was returning. He was returning, and Malachi had left her for him…
"Weren't nothing," Justin said. "Weren't nothing at all but a rabbit or a squirrel. I left you for a rabbit. Can you beat that? My nerves are raw, honey, but you're gonna fix that."
Laughing, he dropped the rifle. He fell down on his knees beside her, and he stroked her calf. She kicked out in a rage. He fell upon her, the whole of his length covering her, smothering her. She started to scream and writhe, and Justin smiled, bringing his leering features level with hers.
"Moment of truth, honey darling mine—"
He broke off at the sound of a gun cocking, right at the base of his ear.
"Moment of truth," Malachi said harshly. "Get up. Get off my wife."
Shannon watched as Justin Waller went as stiff as a poker and slowly rose. Malachi didn't miss a beat. The barrel of his Colt remained flush against the man's head.
"She ain't your wife. Not for real—Mr. Gabriel."
"She is my wife—for real, Mr. Waller. And I don't take kindly to you touching her. In fact, I don't take kindly to much that you've done."
There was another rustle in the trees. Malachi didn't move a hair. Justin sneered, and despite herself, Shannon stiffened. Iris Andre stepped in among them. She had a small pearl-handled knife in her hands. She hurried toward Shannon, knelt beside her and started sawing the ropes that held her.