Rita Herron - Cowboy to the Max

“If you’d called the police, they could have protected you and your mother.” And he would never have gone to jail. “And they might have been able to use DNA to track down the bastard who attacked you.”

Her eyes flared with derision. “I worked in a bar, Carter. I’m Native American, too. I know how the police work. They would have made me out to be some kind of tramp.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “Besides, my mother was dying of cancer. I was all she had. I could barely afford to care for her, much less drag her through a scandal.”

“So you just let him get away?” Carter asked, incredulous.

Sadie folded her hands into fists by her sides. “I wanted to come forward, Carter. Believe me, I did. But I told you I was in shock. In fact, the first few weeks after the attack, I was so weak and disoriented I couldn’t even get out of bed, much less remember the details of what happened.”

A seed of hope burst through the darkness eating Carter’s soul. “But you went to the hospital, right? So they have records—”

“I didn’t go to the hospital,” Sadie said in a low voice.

Disappointment shot through Carter. “No hospital. Why?”

“Because I thought he’d find me there. That he’d kill my mother and then finish me off.” She paced to the adjoining kitchen and glanced out the window, her body shuddering as she wrapped her arms around herself. “I didn’t know where to turn, so I called a friend from the reservation. He came and took me there to recover, and so the shaman could treat my wound.”

Carter cursed, strode to her and swung her around to face him. All this time he’d banked on Sadie having the answers he needed to clear himself. He couldn’t accept the fact that she didn’t. “So you’re telling me we have nothing. No evidence. That you can’t identify this man—”

Her face crumpled. “I’m sorry, Carter. I—”

Something rattled outside, jerking his attention, and he threw up a finger to shush her. She tensed, her eyes widening, as he peered through the window at the alley.

A shadow moved across the glass pane then suddenly something crashed through the window where they were standing.

Sadie screamed. Carter jerked her down to the floor as glass sprayed the counter and carpet.

Suddenly smoke began to billow through the room, stinging his eyes and throat.

Dammit. It was a pipe bomb.

Whoever had set it off wanted to kill them.

Chapter Three

Sadie dove down beside Carter, coughing as thick smoke clouded the room. “My God, what’s happening?”

“It’s a pipe bomb. Come on, we have to get outside.” Carter grabbed her hand. “Stay behind me and keep low.” He wielded his gun as if he was ready to shoot, then tugged her toward the kitchen and the back door.

Sadie grabbed her shoulder bag on the way out, her heart racing. The man who’d attacked her… He knew Carter had escaped. He’d been following her.

All those shadows the past few days, the sensation of someone watching her, of someone breathing down her neck…it had been real.

He had come back to kill her, to kill them both.…

Carter pushed open the back door and she ducked behind him, clinging to his hand as they stepped onto the tiny cement patio. She struggled to inhale a breath, desperate to escape the smoke, and rubbed her beads, murmuring a Navajo prayer for her and Carter’s safety.

When she opened her eyes, though, the air smelled rancid and dank, and the alley was dark and filled with more shadows.

“Come on,” Carter whispered.

The sweltering heat plastered Sadie’s hair to her skin and clothes as Carter tugged her around the corner of a dilapidated brick building. She nearly stumbled over a pile of garbage someone had thrown in the street, and clung to Carter to keep from falling.

“Where are we going?” she asked, her lungs churning for air.

“My truck. It’s down the street.”

Suddenly the sound of gunfire rent the air. A bullet whizzed by their heads, and Sadie screamed again.

“Dammit, he was waiting.” Carter yanked her behind the corner of the building. “It was a setup to lure us out of the house.”

“Do you see him?” Sadie asked.

“No.”

She scanned the black corners of the alley, trembling as she watched Carter lift his gun and peer around the edge of the building. Voices echoed from somewhere down the street. An engine rumbled. Tires screeched.

She followed Carter’s gaze, checking the tops of the buildings nearby, the back entrance to the deserted warehouse two doors down, the corner of the street across from them.

Two cars were parked on the curb. The first, a dented green Ford that belonged to the junkie in the apartment next to her. The other, a silver Jeep that had been abandoned days ago and had been stripped, hubcaps and all.

Another shot pinged off the concrete wall by Carter’s head, and he pressed his back against the building to dodge it, then pushed her head lower. “Stay here. I’ll see if I can draw him out.”

Panic streaked through Sadie, and she clutched his arm. “No, don’t go, Carter. He might kill you.”

Carter swung his gaze back to her, seemingly startled that she might care. “I’ll be fine, Sadie. Just stay here.”

“No.” She held on to him like a lifeline. “We’re in this together.”

He narrowed his eyes a fraction, doubt darkening the hues of his eyes, then gave a quick nod. “All right. Let’s make a run for my truck.” He gripped her arm with his hand. “But promise me, if I get hit, you’ll go to the police and tell them everything.”

Fear closed her throat. “Don’t talk like that. You aren’t going to get hit.”

“Promise me,” Carter said. “If you can’t make it to the police, call Johnny Long or Brandon Woodstock. They’ll protect you and help clear my name.”

Sadie nodded, although it terrified her to admit that they might not make it out alive. But if Carter did get killed, she would need help. She couldn’t keep running scared for the rest of her life.

And without Carter, it was only a matter of time before she ended up dead.

CARTER REFUSED TO DIE in this damn alley. And he would not let Sadie become a victim to this lowlife.

Not again.

He sucked in a sharp breath, then pulled Sadie behind him, keeping low as he crept along the edge of the buildings. Pulse jumping, he searched the alley and streets, his senses honed. Where the hell was the shooter?

A trash can lid rattled, then rolled across the alley ahead. Footsteps clattered and a shadow moved. A flash of something metal caught in the darkness and drew his eyes toward the roof of the run-down apartment building next to Sadie’s.

The shooter. Was he up there? Watching? Taking aim?

His mind raced. The pipe bomb had been thrown into the house from the main level. So if this cretin was on the roof, he had a partner.

Another bullet pinged off the metal awning above his head.

“Dammit, this guy is pissing me off,” Carter growled. He turned and fired back at the direction the shot had come from. Not the roof but from behind the Jeep.

His truck was a few more feet away. “Come on.” He yanked Sadie around the corner then cut through another alley in between the warehouses.

A mangy dog pawed at a garbage can, knocked it on its side and began to scrounge through the trash. Voices rumbled from inside the next building, and through the foggy cracked window, he spotted two men. A drug deal going down.

They glanced up, both scowling, mean looking and armed. One headed toward the door as if he thought they might be cops, and Carter picked up his pace, dragging Sadie behind.

Another bullet pinged toward them just as he reached the truck. He shoved Sadie down behind the bumper, jostled his keys from his pocket, opened the driver’s door then coaxed Sadie inside.