Karen Rose - Silent Scream

“Fine,” Kirby muttered. “They can’t have gotten far. You’re done, Hunter.”

He’s going to shoot me. Then he’d go after them, the people he loved. Not while I still breathe. I’ll take him with me. David’s stomach roiled. He wasn’t nearly as zen with the prospect as he’d always expected he’d be. I walk into fire, ready to die every day. But this was different. There was no rush. No adrenaline. Just fear and dread, heavy in his gut. It wouldn’t, however, change the outcome.

Now. Take him down now. He shifted to the balls of his feet, then shoved backward as hard as he could, twisting to the side, grabbing Kirby’s wrist as they fell. David’s head hit the patio hard, and the world spun, but he had Kirby’s wrist in a lock and the gun pointed away from them.

With a howl of rage, Kirby grabbed his collar with his free hand and slammed David’s head onto the concrete again. Pain crashed through his skull, but he held Kirby’s wrist. They rolled, fighting for the gun. David pinned him to the concrete, but Kirby’s finger was curled around the trigger and it was all David could do to keep the barrel pointed away.

Sucking in a breath, David’s head cleared and so did his view of Kirby’s face. Fury exploded and he ploughed his fist into Kirby’s face with all the force he could summon, but Kirby countered, twisting his collar until his knuckles dug into David’s throat.

Can’t breathe. He twisted, but Kirby tightened his hold. Can’t breathe. White lights twinkled before his eyes as, one-handed, he yanked at the knuckles cutting off his air, but Kirby held. Both hands. He needed both hands. He’ll shoot. I’ll die. No. Not today. Relax the throat. It worked, allowing him a shallow breath through his nose.

And he smelled her. Honeysuckle. She’s here. In his mind he could see her, ready, aiming, unable to get a clear shot as they fought. Let go of the gun. Move. Abruptly he released Kirby’s wrist, throwing himself to the side. Kirby rolled with him, his fist still twisted in his collar and from the corner of his eye he could see the gun arc around… pointing at me. He stared at the barrel, every muscle clenched.

The shot made David flinch and made Kirby jerk as his body dropped away, dead before David drew a full breath. Stunned, David hung there, staring at the neat new hole in Kirby’s temple. Then, with a hoarse cough, he pulled Kirby’s lifeless hand from his collar and rolled to his back, his chest heaving as he struggled to fill his lungs. When he forced his eyes open, Olivia still held her gun in both hands, still pointed at Kirby’s head, her face an expressionless mask. Slowly she lowered the gun, reholstering it.

Pushing himself to his knees, David pressed his fingers to Kirby’s neck, then looked up at Olivia with grim satisfaction. “That’s all, folks,” he murmured.

She choked out a sound that was neither laugh nor sob, then fell to her knees next to David, her fingertips lightly grazing his face. “Oh God, look at you.” Sitting on his heels, he winced when she touched the back of his head, then frowned at the blood on her fingers. “You’re bleeding,” she said.

David blinked hard. Now that it was over the adrenaline was fading, pain seeping in to take its place. “Hit my head,” he said fractiously, then ran his fingers over his jaw, his frown deepening. “And busted a few stitches. Hurts like a bitch.”

“I guess so.” She brushed her lips over his temple. “I couldn’t get the shot without risking you. How did you know what to do?”

He breathed her scent and it calmed him. “I smelled honeysuckle. I knew you were there. I knew you’d do the right thing.”

She rested her brow against his. “I was afraid he’d take you, too,” she whispered.

His arms closed around her, absorbing her shudder. “He didn’t. You didn’t let him.”

“Liv?” Noah stood in the ruined glass doorway, reholstering his gun. Olivia pulled away, glancing at Kirby’s body before lifting her eyes to Noah’s.

“Kirby’s dead.”

“I know. I saw it all.” He nodded once, hard. “Very nice shot. You okay, David?”

Olivia stood up. “He needs an ambulance,” she answered for him.

“No, I don’t,” David said, rising as well, riding out the wave of dizziness and nausea. “Where’s my mother and Tom?”

“I called the EMTs,” Noah said, as if David hadn’t spoken. “They’re five minutes out. Your mother is in our car with Tom. She’s fine.”

David let out a relieved breath. “Kirby called to her. I thought for sure she’d come back and that Kirby would shoot her, too.”

“We were here already,” Noah said. “We heard Kirby yell. Phoebe almost did run back here. I convinced her to trust us. To let Olivia and me do our jobs.”

David closed his eyes. Between the relief and the pain in his head, he was feeling sick. “Thank you.”

“What about Mary?” Olivia asked. “Where is she?”

“In the kitchen,” Noah said. “She’s dead.”

David grimaced, remembering how her head had exploded. “Kirby shot her.”

Olivia sighed. “Now we’ll never get answers.”

“We have a few,” David said, and told them what he’d overheard.

“Mary issued the ex-con attacker an engraved invitation,” Noah said. “I guess I can’t blame Kirby for being a little annoyed at that. But the rest…”

“He was a sociopath,” Olivia said flatly. “He killed without blinking an eye.”

So had she. But that was entirely different. He thought of her cold focus in spite of everything she’d been through and was proud of her. He brushed at the glass sticking to his shirt, his ears pricking at the sound of a siren. The police. Finally.

“What took the cops so long?” he demanded.

“They didn’t have the aerial view that we did,” Olivia said. “Lots of cabins have green awnings. They’ve been searching from the ground while we waited for the state’s helicopter. I called in the address right before Tom crashed his car into the cabin.”

“Why did Tom crash the car into the house?” Noah asked.

“It was the only diversion I could think of big enough to keep Kirby busy while I got my mom out. He’d just shot his sister and he didn’t believe Mary when she said she’d already killed my mom. I knew he’d go looking for Mom next. I had to do something.”

Olivia blinked. “Mary told him she’d killed your mom already? She lied?”

“Yeah. Kirby came in, pointing his gun and asked where her hostage was. He’d guessed she was my mother. Asked if she’d stashed her in the closet. But Mary lied.”

“Because she didn’t want to hurt me.”

David spun around. His mother stood on the patio, Tom at her side. She was pale but otherwise unharmed. “Mom.” Heart in his throat, he met her halfway, intending to keep his hug light but tightening his arms when she started to cry. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m fine. I just… I could hear him. He shot his own sister. I thought he was going to kill you.”

“I thought he was, too,” David murmured. “But I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re fine.”

“We are.” She pulled back to search his face, wincing at the cuts and bruises, her eyes haunted. “I waited in the car as long as I could. Oh, honey, your face.”

“Just a few cuts and bruises. I’ll heal. Are you sure that you’re all right?”

“She was moving pretty fast,” Tom said wryly. “I could barely keep up with her when Noah gave us the all-clear signal after the gunshot.”

Unconvinced, David looked her over. “We’ll get a doctor’s opinion.”

“I do not need-” his mother began, but David cut her off with a look.

“For me. Please.”

She lifted her chin. “I will if you will.”