For You
Page 152

 Kristen Ashley

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Denny rushed forward and pulled the slithering Melanie back several feet using her hair to do it. She cried her pain out from behind her gag and the sound of it, the sight of her head jerking back in that awful way, made my stomach roil.
“Stop it!” I screeched, going for Denny but he pushed me off again, let Melanie go and turned his body and his gun on me.
“What the f**k’s the matter with you?” he snapped.
What did I say? How did I play this? How did I buy the cops time to get in here and stop this madness? And why the f**k weren’t they coming in?
I had no idea but I had to come up with something.
“Alec wouldn’t do this. Not my Alec. He’s good and gentle and kind. He doesn’t shoot people and pull their hair,” I told him.
“We can’t go back to the way we’re supposed to be if they aren’t erased.”
“We’ll never go back to the way we’re supposed to be if you don’t stop this!” I shouted. “Let me take Susie out so they can get her help. Let Melanie go. And then, after we let them go, you and me, we’ll start over.”
“Can’t do it unless it’s erased.”
“I’m tellin’ you, Denny, we won’t do it if you erase them!” I screamed.
He blinked and I knew I f**ked up. I called him by his real name.
Before I could take it back, he lifted the gun and pulled the trigger.
* * * * *
Colt tore at Chris and Sean as Morrie did the same with Rodman and Sully.
“Shots fired, shots fired,” someone said into their radio.
Three shots.
Three shots fired.
Three women who’d shared part of his life might have taken a bullet.
And in between that time, the only thing he could hold onto was the sound of Feb shouting.
But she wasn’t shouting anymore.
“Stand down, Colt,” Chris grunted as Colt pushed against his and Sean’s weakening hold.
“He’s got hostages, Colt. You can’t go tearin’ in there,” Sean said.
Did he? Three shots. Three women. No further noise.
Did he still have hostages?
Colt shoved Chris aside and Sean shifted, planting his feet behind him and putting all his weight into Colt.
“Morrie, relax or I’ll have you cuffed,” Sully threatened Morrie who was struggling five feet away.
“My sister’s in there,” Morrie returned, like Colt he was still fighting against the restraining hold.
Colt’s eyes went to his friend and seeing Morrie, Colt suddenly stopped pushing and a strange calm settled over him.
He wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. Not losing control and acting like a moron.
He’d have to find another way in and he had to get in, he had to see, he had to know if February was okay and he had to deal with Denny if she was, and more so, if she was not. He didn’t care if he lost his badge. He didn’t care if he carried on the Colton family tradition in prison. If Feb was gone, out of his life for good this time, he knew there was nothing left to care about.
He looked at Warren who was pulling a loudspeaker out of his SUV and Colt pushed away from Sean and walked to the agent.
“Send me in,” he demanded to Warren.
“Patience, Lieutenant, we got this. Let us open a line of communication,” Warren stated.
They didn’t have this. Colt saw it in Warren’s face, indecision. Shots were fired from a man who was known to favor a hatchet and, thus far, had taken no hostages. They had no idea what they were dealing with in that house.
“Three shots were fired,” Colt told him, “we need to go in.”
“Patience, Lieutenant. SWAT Team isn’t here and Nowakowski feels he’ll do your woman no harm.”
“Women, Agent, Feb’s not the only one in there.”
“We’re gonna try to talk him out.”
“He wants me,” Colt reminded Warren. “Send me in and I’ll get the women out.”
“Let us deal with this, Colton.”
“We got ears,” someone shouted and Colt’s head turned to a cruiser where Eric, another of the town’s uniforms was folding himself in the passenger seat. Everyone jogged to the cruiser but Colt pushed in close.
“Someone’s called 911, not talkin’, just opened the line,” Eric whispered.
“Sweetheart,” a man said over the radio.
“Stay away from me,” Feb replied and Colt’s neck twisted at the fear he could hear stark in her voice, even muted and scratchy over the radio, but even so, relief poured through him that she was speaking at all.
“Come here, February.” the man demanded.
“You just shot at me!” Feb yelled.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sweetheart… but you can’t call me that.”
“Don’t get near me.”
“Feb, I need you to listen to me.”
“She’s hurt!” Feb screamed, so loud they could hear it not only on the radio but from the house and Colt’s eyes opened, the dread in his gut had lifted, not much, because either Susie or Melanie had been hit, but Feb sounded strong and Colt looked toward the house.
“We start again here, we gotta start clean,” the man said.
“By killing Melanie and Susie? Are you nuts?” Feb asked.
“Oh shit,” someone close to Colt muttered but Colt could have said it himself. Denny Lowe was nuts and he didn’t need Feb riling him.
“February…” the man said then he asked, “what’s that?”
“What?” Feb asked back.
“Feb, what’s that? In your shirt.”
Fuck, she had the phone on her and Denny had seen it.
Feb wisely changed the subject. “You just shot at me. I want to go,” she snapped. “I just want to go. And I’m taking Melanie and Susie with me.”
“Lift up your shirt,” Denny demanded.
“I’m going,” Feb declared.
“You can’t go. You’re meant to be with me and to be with me we have to start clean. Now, what’s in your f**kin’ shirt?” The man’s voice was getting agitated, they didn’t have much time. Susie’d already suffered a gunshot wound, God knew the state of her. Melanie was likely up next. And Feb, Feb kept at him like this, Denny would do her too.
Feb stayed on target, keeping his focus off her phone. “Susie’s bleeding, she needs help. You let her bleed to death on her own couch, I swear to God, we’re through, over. You hear me?”