For You

Chapter Twelve February

I jerked awake thinking I heard my brother shouting the word “frittata”.

I knew this wasn’t the residue from a bad dream when I heard Colt mutter, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” before he threw the covers aside, knifed out of bed, grabbed his jeans from the floor, yanked them on and stalked out of the room buttoning them.

Wilson trotted out after him, tail straight in the air.

Before Colt got to the front door, I heard Morrie shout, “Frittata!” again and then there was loud knocking through the four beeps of Colt disarming the doors and windows.

Then the knocking stopped and Colt said loudly, “Seriously?”

Then Morrie said, also loudly, “Dude, I missed the last one.”

Then Tuesday shouted, “Hey Uncle Colt!”

Then Palmer, so like his father, shouted, “Auntie Feb, frittata!”

Then a lot of noise as the kids ran inside, likely straight to the pool table. Before I’d been to Colt’s house I’d heard a lot about the pool table from the kids. It was nearly as legendary as the boat. Colt having these two things was more likely the reason Palmer wanted to be like his Uncle Colt than the coolness of Colt being a cop.

Then I heard Dee saying, “Sorry, Colt, I tried to stop him.”

I thought I heard Colt grumble something and I looked at the clock. It was nine-oh-eight.

I rolled to my back, mumbling, “Fucking hell.”

Firstly, I mumbled this because I was going into protective custody with Colt and I wanted to have a lazy Sunday morning in bed with him. His bed. Our bed. Secondly, I mumbled this because I was going into protective custody at all. Lastly, I mumbled this because I wanted to sleep more.

I was up on an elbow with the covers pulled over my chest when Colt stalked back in and announced, “Command performance, February.”

By the look on his face I was guessing he was about as happy as I was to have early morning Sunday company.

“You wanna change your mind about that answer of you ownin’ a hatchet?” I asked.

“Be cleaner usin’ my gun,” Colt returned, giving me the impression he was really thinking about this option even though I knew he wasn’t really thinking about this option.

I smiled then said, “We gotta count on Tuesday and Palmer takin’ care of us in our old age. You murder their father, I doubt that’ll happen.”

For some reason this was the wrong thing to say. I watched as Colt’s face changed, pain slicing through it before it went blank.

I sat up fully in bed, still holding the covers to my chest and called, “Colt?”

He shook his head, his face relaxed and he said softly, “Get up, baby.”

“Colt.”

He ignored me and went to the bathroom. I got out of bed, pulled on my underwear and Colt’s tee and waited until I heard him brushing his teeth. Then I knocked on the bathroom door and came in at his call.

I walked to him at the basin and leaned a hip against the counter, watching him brush. His eyes didn’t meet mine.

“What’s on your mind?” I asked quietly when he spit the foam in the sink.

Colt avoided my question, turned on the tap in preparation to rinse and said, “I’ll call Jack and Jackie, they won’t want to miss a frittata and, they’re here, we can tell them all at the same time we’re goin’ into custody.”

I got closer as he bent at the waist and rinsed his mouth.

I put my hand to the skin of his back. “Okay, but Colt,” I said low, “something happened in there, baby. I saw it. Honey, tell me what’s on your mind.”

His head tipped back so he could look at himself in the mirror, he held his own gaze for several beats and I waited. He made me wait awhile before he straightened, turned, my hand dropped from his back and I held my breath at what I saw in his face when he finally caught my eyes.

“Woulda talked you into namin’ a boy Jack, we had one. Jacqueline, we had a girl,” he whispered and I closed my eyes and swallowed back the pain.

He’d wanted kids and I did too. Even back in the day, both of us young, we’d talked about it. We didn’t talk about it a lot but we talked about it enough that it was understood, when we made it official, we weren’t going to waste time building a family. Then he went through the heartbreak of Melanie not being able to conceive. Now, with him forty-four and me forty-two and us just starting out again and needing time, it wasn’t impossible but it also maybe wasn’t smart for us to try to start a family at this juncture. If we tried and it didn’t happen, we’d both just have more heartbreak and we’d had enough of that.

His hand came to the back of my neck, curling around, warm and reassuring and I loved it when he did that. Even now, when yet another thing Denny stole from us tore through our consciousness, his hand there felt good, it felt right and it made the pain hurt a whole lot less.

“Honey,” he called and I opened my eyes.

“You wouldn’t have had to talk me into that,” I told him and he grinned, not a happy grin or one filled with humor. It was a grin that broke my heart.

“Don’t ‘spect I would,” he said.

I moved closer and his hand at my neck gave me a squeeze as his other arm went around my waist. I put my palms on his bare chest and pressed my cheek there.

“You think there’ll come a time when this shit quits hittin’ us, stuff we missed, things he stole?”

“Yeah, baby,” he said reassuringly, though I didn’t quite believe him mainly because he didn’t sound like he believed himself.

“You sure?”

Another squeeze at my neck. “Yeah.”

I nodded, my cheek sliding against the warm skin of his chest.

“One thing…” I started and then my throat closed and I couldn’t go on.

This time I got a squeeze from his arm at my waist before he prompted, “Baby?”

I cleared my throat and slid my hands around him, holding him around his waist too.

“One thing,” I said into his chest, “one thing that’s good, Colt, and that is, every day, for all these years, I thought of you, dozens of times a day. Every day. Every single fucking day.”

“February,” Colt whispered.

“Still do, except, now… it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His hand at my neck went into my hair and gave it a tug. When my head went back, his face was already there and his mouth was on mine.

Colt tasted of toothpaste when he kissed me and I thought it was the best thing I ever tasted in my life.

“What’s takin’ so long?” Morrie bellowed, Colt’s head came up and this time he was grinning with humor.

“Shut up, Morrie! We’ll be out in a second,” I shouted back, still holding Colt close.

“Get the lead out, I’m hungry,” Morrie was still bellowing and I heard Tuesday giggle.

My body melted further into Colt’s. “He’s a pain in the ass,” I noted but having Colt in my arms and my family in the other room, I went on. “Still, I love Sundays.”

“Best day of the week,” Colt replied.

I smiled before I agreed, “Absolutely.”

“Baby?” he called like I wasn’t in his arms.

“Yeah?”

“We got a lifetime of Sundays ahead of us,” he reminded me.

I tipped my head to the side and I felt my smile change and the only word I could think to say to express how happy this idea made me was, “Yeah.”

Then I decided Morrie could wait a bit longer, so could the Feds, so could protective custody and I got up on my toes and kissed Colt in our bathroom.

Colt sat at his desk at the Station, Sean in the chair by the desk, Sully across from him.

Colt was antsy but he needed to get this done.

February was at the bar, she’d wanted to go there, sort some things out, preparing, like Colt was now, to be away.

Marty, in plainclothes, was there playing bodyguard.

This was why Colt was antsy. Chris had done night duty, which was good. Colt could trust that Chris would stay alert all night. Marty, Colt couldn’t trust and he wasn’t happy leaving Feb at the bar even though Morrie was there, as was Darryl and, although they weren’t yet open, Joe-Bob had already been let in and was in his seat. It wasn’t exactly an army of protection but Denny and a hatchet would have some troubles getting through four men to get to Feb.

But Colt had a bad feeling in his gut, he’d woken up with it and it hadn’t gone away. And when he had this feeling, he didn’t want to be away from Feb. Therefore, even with four men between her and the possibility of Denny showing, Colt was still antsy.

Warren and Rodman were waiting for Colt to lay his caseload on Sean before they handed Colt and February over to the US Marshalls to take to the safe house. They were antsy too. Visibly so. Time enough had lapsed for Denny to hit town and they wanted this done so they could focus on the hunt.

“You’ll only be gone a day, two tops,” Sean said and Colt nodded, hoping Sean was right.

“Though, in that time, shouldn’t be hard for you to track down our guy,” Colt replied, talking about the stoned out burglar. “He should have gone through his stash by now and is likely looking to score again.”

Sean nodded back at Colt as three phones rang simultaneously and the vibe in the room suddenly went electric.

Colt tensed and his eyes sliced to Sully who was watching him as he leaned toward his phone. Sully didn’t get it to his ear before Colt heard footsteps coming up the stairs, fast.

He swiveled in his chair to see it was Betsy. She took one look at Colt, her face pale, her eyes filled with fear, that weight in Colt’s gut turned solid as an anvil and Betsy said breathlessly, “Shots fired at J&J’s.”

“Quiet,” Denny clipped.

I swallowed, turning around in my seat in the car to look at Melanie. I gave a shake of my head to the obviously petrified Melanie, who’d just been whining, making low keening noises around the gag in her mouth and doing this mainly because she was scared out of her brain.

“Sweetheart,” Denny called, his voice soft and loving and I knew he was talking to me.

I turned my eyes to him, I didn’t want to, but I did.

Light brown hair, good haircut, blue eyes, decent build, probably a couple inches taller than me, he looked like Denny, but a bit older.

And he was covered in blood. Joe-Bob’s blood, Darryl’s blood, maybe even Marty’s blood.

And his blue eyes were wild. I’d never seen eyes like that and they scared me more than the blood, more than what I’d just seen at the bar because I knew he wasn’t done.

I swallowed again and fought back the tears that were stinging the backs of my eyes and the scream that was lodged in my throat.

“You know, even when I was with her,” Denny went on, jerking his head toward the backseat where Melanie was tied up and gagged, “I only wanted you.”

“I know,” I forced out, my voice sounding ragged, thinking it prudent to play his game and trying not to think of much else.

“It’s only ever been you, February,” Denny said.

“I know,” I repeated and closed my eyes tight before I looked back out the front windscreen. Then I swallowed and called, “Alec?” and using Colt’s name to address Denny made me feel like I had acid poured on my tongue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Denny answered.

I searched for the courage I needed and pulled it up. “Can we just let her go?”

“Sweetheart.”

“I don’t want her here.”

“Oh,” Denny replied, “I’ll take care of her.”

Melanie squeaked in terror and I closed my eyes tight again.

That’s what I was afraid of.

There was a cruiser, lights still flashing, at the front of J&J’s and more sirens could be heard in the distance when Colt ran toward the front door. Sean and Warren were at his heels, Sully and Rodman not far behind them.

He had his gun in his hand but before he hit the door it flew open and Adam, a uniform, shot out, his hand to the radio at his shoulder, his mouth turned there.

“Officer down, J&J’s Saloon, I repeat, officer down, J&J’s Saloon.”

Adam didn’t even look at Colt as he ran to the trunk of the cruiser to get the first aid kit.

Colt ran into the bar.

Joe-Bob was by the front door, slashed to shit, blood everywhere. Colt didn’t even have to check to know he was dead.

He crushed down the rage that threatened to burn through him and saw Marty five feet away, on his back, covered in blood and looking either dead or, God willing, unconscious. Ellen, Adam’s partner, was on her knees beside him. At one glance Colt saw Marty took at least three bullets into the vest he was luckily wearing. Unfortunately, he also took one in the neck.

“Feb?” Colt asked Ellen, she shook her head, that anvil twisted, scoring against the lining of his gut. “Marty?” Colt went on.

“Breathing,” Ellen replied.

“Morrie?”

“Out back,” Ellen said, holding a bar towel to Marty’s neck and Colt ran to the back.

Darryl was on his ass in the alley, his face gray and pinched with pain, his back to the brick wall of the bar, blood spatters could be seen up his neck. Morrie was crouched beside him, his back to Colt, his body hiding Darryl’s.

“Morrie,” Colt called, Morrie twisted and Colt got a look at his friend and saw he was unharmed. Then he got a look at Darryl and skidded to a halt.

“Fuck!” Colt hissed and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

“We need to get him to a hospital,” Morrie’s voice was soft and calm but it had an edge.

“Feb?” Colt replied, the phone to his ear and ringing.

“He got her. I’m sorry, boss. I –” Darryl started.

“Quiet, Darryl, just be still,” Morrie hushed him and Colt’s call connected.

“ETA on ambulances at J&J’s?” Colt asked Jo in dispatch but he heard the sirens out front.

“Should be there, Colt,” Jo replied.

“Darryl’s in the back, the alley,” Colt told her, looked over Darryl’s injuries and continued, “been hacked, also, what I can see, been shot.”

“Got it, Colt,” Jo said but Colt was already flipping his phone shut.

He skirted Morrie, went around Darryl’s legs and crouched at Darryl’s other side.

“I need to know which way they went. You see that?” he asked Darryl.

“Right, out the alley,” Darryl answered, his head tipping to the left, telling Colt where he’d last seen the car, his voice as pinched as his face.

“What was he drivin’?” Colt went on.

“White Ford Taurus. Didn’t get a number but it was an Oklahoma plate,” Darryl answered.

Colt put his hand to Darryl’s shoulder as the paramedics came running out the backdoor carrying their kit but he ignored them and said softly to Darryl, “Good.”

“Came in the front but was parked in the back. He got Joe-Bob first,” Darryl continued. “Crazy Joe-Bob went right at him, even though that guy came in swingin’. Then he started shootin’, didn’t hesitate, took down the cop before he even got his gun outta his holster,” Darryl finished as Morrie moved away and the paramedics moved in.

“Just relax, Darryl,” Colt urged.

“I told Feb to run, she did but he ran after her. He shot at me, hit me but I tried –”

“Relax.”

“Lieutenant, move away,” the paramedic ordered and Colt didn’t hesitate, he moved.

By that time Warren and Rodman were in the alley as was Sully and Colt moved to them.

“White Taurus, Oklahoma plates, north out the alley,” Colt said, pointing in the direction Darryl indicated and Warren opened his phone as did Sully.

“I was at Mimi’s,” Morrie whispered. “Feb wanted a latte. I was at Mimi’s gettin’ her a latte.”

“Morrie, hold it together, man,” Colt said.

“I was gettin’ her a fuckin’ latte.”

“Morrie, keep it together.”

Morrie twisted his neck, his hand coming to the collar of his t-shirt and he pulled himself together but his eyes went to Colt’s and he said, “That asshole’s got my sister.”

Colt knew that. He knew it. He felt that knowledge weighing heavy in his gut.

“Melanie,” Darryl said and everyone’s eyes turned to him.

“What?” Colt asked, but it felt like something lethal had hold of his heart.

Darryl blinked then lifted his chin and said, “Feb went with him because he’s also got Melanie.”

Then Darryl slid to the side and lost consciousness.

“No, this isn’t right, Alec,” I said as Denny pushed Melanie onto Susie Shepherd’s couch.

He had hold of Susie who was trembling from the top of her blonde head to the tips of her blood red painted toenails. She was trembling because, now that Melanie was on the couch, Denny wasn’t just holding her bicep in his hand, he was also now holding his gun to her head.

“February, do as I said, sweetheart, tie her up,” Denny commanded.

I shook my head. “Please, Alec, let’s just go. You and me, let’s just go.”

Denny leaned forward and shouted, “Tie her, the fuck, up!”

I decided not to push it, moved forward, my eyes locking on Susie’s before I walked around her. I used the rope Denny gave me and pulled her wrists behind her back.

“I don’t know how to tie someone up,” I said, winding the rope around her wrists. “Maybe you can hand me the gun and do it yourself.”

“Quit fuckin’ around, Feb.”

“No really –”

“Quit fuckin’ around!” Denny shouted again, Susie jumped under my hands and Melanie made a terrified noise from the couch. “I wanna get this done and get the fuck outta here.”

“Okay, Alec,” I whispered, scared, clueless, wondering if Colt or Sully or the Feds would ever think in a million years that Denny would take Melanie and me to Susie Shepherd’s house.

I tied Susie up but I didn’t do a good job with it mainly because I wasn’t lying, I didn’t know how to tie someone up. Also, I didn’t want to do a good job.

“Done,” I said, my hand going to Susie’s forearm. I gave her a squeeze there, not knowing what I was saying, just wanting her to have something, to tell her we were all in this together, to tell her I would do what I could.

Denny yanked Susie forward and shoved her to sit on the couch next to Melanie.

I stood there, my mind going a million miles a minute. Should I lunge for the gun? Should I go for the axe he made me carry into the house? If I did, would he shoot me, or Melanie, or Susie?

Time.

I needed time.

“Why?” I asked Denny as he stared at the two terrified women on the couch.

“Gag her,” Denny replied.

“What?” I asked.

“Gag her, Susie, the fuckin’ bitch. Don’t want her talkin’. Don’t want her runnin’ that sick mouth of hers.”

I looked at Susie. She was scared stiff, she didn’t have it in her to speak.

“She won’t talk,” I told him.

Denny looked at me and said calmly, “I don’t want to repeat myself again, sweetheart.”

I shook my head, still trying to buy time for Melanie and Susie and for me. “I don’t have anything to gag her with.”

“Find something. I’m sure she has some fancy-ass scarves somewhere.”

Was he serious? He was going to let me wander the house looking for a scarf?

I shot Susie and Melanie a look then muttered, “Be right back.”

Then I ran from the room.

Colt’s phone rang in his hand, he didn’t even look at the display before he flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“Colton,” he said, his eyes on the gurney with Darryl strapped to it that was being wheeled into the bar, his mind on Feb and Melanie, his gut twisted in knots.

“Alec?”

It was his mother.

Fucking shit.

“Ma, I can’t –”

“A man has Feb,” she said on a rush and Colt felt ice water slide through his veins. “I’m in my car outside a big, fancy house on The Heritage. Street’s called Vine. A man’s got Feb and Melanie. He’s also got a gun. He took them into the house.”

“Vine?” Colt asked but he knew, Denny, that sick fuck, he knew.

“Yeah, Alec, one three eight Vine.”

Jesus, Susie’s house.

He looked at Sully. “He’s taken them to Susie’s.” His eyes went to Warren. “One three eight Vine. The Heritage. Susan Shepherd’s house.”

Warren, Rodman and Sully immediately turned and jogged away. Colt followed them, his strides long, his patience spent, he was fighting a fear that nearly immobilized him and Morrie was at his side.

“Ma, drive away,” he told his mother.

“Feb’s in that house with a man’s got a gun,” his mother told him.

“Drive away. Now.”

“I knew you weren’t safe so I been watchin’ and I saw –”

After forty-four years, Colt finally had something to thank Mary Colton for.

“Drive away, Ma.”

“Alec –”

“Do it. Now.”

She hesitated then whispered, “Don’t you get hurt.”

“Please, Ma, just drive away.”

“All right, Alec,” she said, “I’ll drive away.”

“Ma?” Colt called before he heard her disconnect.

“Yes, son?”

Then Colt said something to his mother he’d never said in his life or at least not saying it and meaning it, “Thanks.”

I went to Susie’s bedroom, straight to the phone by the side of her bed. I dialed 911. I had no idea how much time I had, Denny was crazy and he could do anything.

When I heard the voice in my ear, I whispered over it, my words hurried and hushed.

“This is February Owens, Denny Lowe has me, Melanie Colton and Susie Shepherd at Susie’s house. He also has a gun and an axe. He’s hurt people at J&J’s Saloon. I can’t talk anymore. I’m setting the phone down but not hanging up so you can’t talk either. He can’t hear you. I’m calling again on my cell in a few seconds, don’t let the operator talk when the call comes through. I’m going to keep my cell with me and the line open. That’s it. No more talking.”

Then I set the cordless on its side by the base and shouted, “I don’t know where she keeps her scarves, Alec! Ask Susie where she keeps her scarves!”“Just look around,” Denny shouted back.

I pulled my cell out of my back pocket and didn’t fuck around with scrolling to anyone’s number. I dialed 911 and then yanked my t-shirt out of my jeans and slid the phone in, display down, between my belly and my belt. I pulled the t-shirt back over it and tucked it around the phone.

“Found one!” I shouted my lie, but started searching and luckily found Susie’s scarves in the first drawer I pulled open.

I nabbed one and ran back to the living room, praying he hadn’t started without me but also that the 911 operator would keep quiet.

“You want me to gag her?” I asked loudly the minute I hit the room.

“Yeah, darlin’,” Denny said and I walked direct to Susie, my eyes sliding between her and Melanie, trying to tell them without words it was going to be okay and hoping I wasn’t nonverbally lying.

“What next?” I asked Denny as I gagged Susie.

“Erase,” Denny answered and I straightened and turned to him.

“What?”

“Erase,” Denny repeated, moving toward me, taking me by the arm and pulling me back.

“Erase?” I asked. “What –?”

“Gonna erase everything, Feb. All of yours, all of mine.” He lifted the gun and pointed it at Melanie as I stood and stared at him, frozen stiff with shock. “So we can get back to the way it’s supposed to be, gonna erase it all.”

He was going to shoot Melanie, I knew it, and he wasn’t going to hesitate.

I didn’t think, I just went for the gun but I was too late, he pulled the trigger when my hand hit his wrist and the gun exploded as the noise pounded against my ears and my heart stopped beating.

“He’s got a gun,” Morrie said, sitting beside Colt as Colt drove his truck to Susie’s.

“Yeah,” Colt replied.

“How’d he get a gun?” Morrie asked.

“Don’t know,” Colt answered.

Morrie was silent, staring out the windshield.

Then he said, “Joe-Bob –”

“Nope, not now, Morrie. Later.”

Morrie was silent again and Colt concentrated on driving, thinking about time, how much had elapsed, what was Denny’s intent, why he’d gone off target. He was supposed to be hunting for Colt, not Susie, not fucking Melanie. Melanie could barely handle giving herself a paper cut. She’d come undone being a hostage. Colt didn’t know what this meant. He didn’t know what it meant for Susie, Melanie or Feb. He didn’t know how much time they had.

“A fuckin’ latte,” Morrie muttered.

“I need you to be cool, Morrie,” Colt told him.

“If I hadn’t –” Morrie started.

“If you hadn’t, you’d be hacked or full of holes too,” Colt told him.

“Better’n scared shitless he’s got my sister.”

Morrie was wrong. If he thought he was right, he just had to ask Jayden Whelan’s wife.

“No, it isn’t, not when you got a wife and two kids at home,” Colt said.

“I was buyin’ a latte, Colt.”

“You were doin’ something your sister wanted you to do. You think Feb’s happy about where Joe-Bob, Darryl and Marty are now? Do you think she’d want that for you? For Dee? For Palmer and Tuesday?” Morrie made a guttural noise and Colt went on. “Focus, Morrie, this ends today and you and me, we don’t need to lose control and fuck it up.”

Morrie paused then blew out a breath before he said, “Yeah.”

“You with me?” Colt asked.

“Yeah.”

Colt turned on Vine and he tried to take his own advice, he tried to keep control, be cool but all he could think was he promised Feb he’d keep her safe and, at that moment, she was far from safe.

“What the fuck you doin’?” Denny shouted but I was staring at the bullet hole in the wall beside where Melanie’s head used to be.

She’d fallen to the side, into Susie who had also leaned away. Both of them were crying behind their gags which worked for me since neither of them were bleeding.

Denny pushed me away and stared at me. I had to think fast, I had to buy time.

“You shot at Melanie!” I yelled.

“I gotta erase –”

“Colt wouldn’t shoot at Melanie!” I yelled over him, he went stock-still and his face went funny, not a good funny, a bad funny.

“What’d you say?” he asked quietly.

“I said Colt wouldn’t shoot Melanie. And he wouldn’t have hacked up Angie. Or Butch. Or even Pete. Colt’s about good. He’d never hurt anyone. You’re not supposed to hurt anyone!” I shouted.

“I’m not Colt,” Denny told me. “I’m Alec.”

I shook my head again, short, fast, all the while blinking. I didn’t understand.

“You’re Alec,” I said to him.

“I’m Alec,” Denny agreed.

“And Alec is Colt.”

Denny shook his head then he grinned. This wasn’t a good grin either, it, too, was a bad grin and it scared me to the depth of my soul.

“No, Feb. I’m Alec. I’m yours, Alec has always been yours. But Colt, he’s different. He’s wrong. He hurt you and, for that, he’s gonna die.”

Colt pulled in, parked, exited the truck and scanned the surroundings.

There were four cruisers which had lined up at angles to the house as well as Sully’s unmarked car, Colt’s truck and Warren and Rodman’s black SUV.

“Go in low,” Colt ordered Morrie who’d come around the back of the truck to Colt’s side. Colt bent double himself, running nearly in a squat to Sully who was crouched behind a cruiser.

“What’ve we got?” Colt asked.

“The SWAT team’s en route, they’ll be at least another ten minutes,” Sully answered.

This was not good. Ten minutes was a long time, too long.

“Any visual?” Colt asked.

“Curtains just been pulled, he’s seen us,” Sully replied.

“Hard not to see,” Morrie muttered and they heard more sirens in the distance so Morrie went on, “and hear.”

“Fed’s said go in hot.”

Colt lifted up and looked at the house, curtains drawn, door closed, no visual, then he crouched low behind the cruiser.

“You see Feb?” he asked Sully.

“Nope, just Denny.”

“Fed’s plan?”

“Talk him out.”

“So, are they gonna do that tomorrow or just after they take a tea break?” Morrie asked, his eyes on the conferring Warren and Rodman that were crouched behind another vehicle, Warren on the phone.

“Denny’s gone rogue, he’s off plan. They don’t know what to do with him. They’re talkin’ to Nowakowski,” Sully said as he lifted up and looked through the passenger windows at the house before he went low again.

“What –?” Colt started but stopped, his muscles petrifying instantly when they heard gunfire inside the house.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” I chanted as Susie’s eyes came to me, pain and fear etched in them.

Then she slumped to the side, blood oozing from her chest.

Melanie was whimpering, she’d thrown herself off the couch and was trying to crawl away, not an easy thing to do on your belly, in a panic, with your hands tied behind your back.

My first thought was to help her but Denny turned to Melanie, aimed the gun, and I had to move fast. I lunged at his arm and caught his wrist, jerking it upward when he fired.

“Stop shooting at them!” I screeched.

Denny threw me off again and glared at me. “Gotta get this done.”

“We need to call an ambulance. You’ve shot Susie,” I yelled.

“Shoulda started with her first. World could easily do without Susie Shepherd,” Denny declared.

“That isn’t your call,” I snapped. “You’re not God.”

He tired of the conversation, looked over his shoulder at the windows and, with utter yet bizarre calm, he announced, “We gotta hurry, cops are here.”

And thank God, thank God for that.

“Give me the gun,” I demanded, moving to him again, putting my hand to his wrist but he pushed me away.

“February, stop fuckin’ around.”

I shook my head, I needed to help Susie and this needed to end. She was alive, I could hear her groaning. Her head was to the armrest, her eyes on me, her hands still behind her back, blood coming out of her, staining her couch. I couldn’t let Susie Shepherd die on her own couch with her hands tied behind her back and the gag I’d tied around her mouth still in place. I couldn’t. I had to do everything I could to stop it.

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 fuck’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 fuck 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 fucked 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 fuckin’ 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?”

Colt turned to Warren. “Talk to him or I go in,” he demanded.

Warren turned to the house and lifted the speaker to his mouth.

“Dennis Lowe!” he called through the speaker and Colt went around the cruiser to the driver’s side, opened the door, pulled the latch to the trunk then moved to the back of the cruiser, nabbed a vest and put it on while Warren continued. “Dennis Lowe, this is the FBI. We’re outside and we know you’re holding February Owens, Melanie Colton and Susan Shepherd. We know you’ve shot Susan. We don’t want anyone else hurt. Put down your weapons and exit the house immediately. This will be your only warning.”

Sully got close as Colt pressed down the Velcro. “Colt, man, what –?”

Colt didn’t look at him. In fact, he ignored everyone, including the variety of voices shouting his name as he jogged to the house, pulling his gun out of the back waistband of his jeans.

“February, just please, come here,” Denny pleaded.

My eyes went to Susie, her eyes were closed. Either she was dead or unconscious. I’d successfully taken his mind off my phone but I knew I was running out of time.

“Let them go,” I demanded to Denny.

“Why won’t you listen to me?” he shouted.

“Maybe because you’re shooting people and acting crazy!” I shouted back.

For some reason, his eyes went to the door then he lunged toward me.

I was too slow in making a move to avoid him. He caught my arm and pulled me back.

Then the door opened and Colt walked in, carrying a gun, calm as you please. Upon entry, he lifted his weapon, aiming dead on at Denny.

I stared at Colt as I felt the cold steel of the gun hit my temple.

Then Denny said, as if he was hosting a dinner party, “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Let her go,” Colt ordered.

“Drop it,” Denny Lowe demanded in return and he jerked Feb in his hold.

Colt’s eyes went to the gun at his woman’s head and his blood, already boiling, starting singing through his veins.

“I said, drop it!” Denny shouted.

“You won’t hurt her, Lowe,” Colt guessed and he was right.

Denny took the gun from Feb’s temple, turned it on Colt and fired.

I watched Colt’s big, solid body jerk as the bullet hit his vest and I screamed.

Then I turned and threw my weight at Denny. Taking him off balance, we both went to the floor.

My hands circled his wrist, both of them grappling for the gun.

“Get them out, out, out, out!” I shouted at Colt, struggling with Denny.

“Feb, roll away,” Colt demanded, his voice sounding funny, like he was winded as if he’d just run a race.

“Get them out!” I repeated.

“Roll away!” Colt bellowed, obviously getting his breath back.

It would seem I was the kind of woman who listened when a man bellowed because Colt did it twice and twice I did what he said. I rolled away, onto my back. When I did, Denny lifted the gun but Colt was standing over us. Colt fired and Denny grunted in pain before his gun hand fell.

“Get Melanie out,” Colt told me as he kicked at Denny’s hand and the gun went skidding across the room.

“Colt.”

“Feb, now!”

I got to my feet and went to Melanie, pulling her to hers. She didn’t waste time and, still whimpering, ran directly toward the door.

I didn’t see if she made it, wasn’t paying any attention because Denny had scooted back then he was up, unarmed but charging Colt. When he did, Colt south-pawed him, holding nothing back, his shoulder dipped, his torso twisting at the waist building momentum, he connected direct in the wound at Denny’s shoulder.

The sound was sickening as Colt’s fist struck the seeping flesh. Denny let out a rough howl of pain, fell back and then, like the crazy man he was, without hesitation, he charged Colt yet again, growling like an animal the whole way.

Colt planted his feet, lifted his now bloody left hand and caught Denny by the throat, his fingers curling under his chin and around his jaw. With what looked like little effort, he cocked his elbow and flung Denny away.

Any man in normal circumstances would be humiliated by the ease of Colt’s defense. Colt was essentially fighting with one arm tied behind his back as he hadn’t dropped his gun. But Denny just went reeling, several feet, his good arm windmilling, before he righted himself.

“Lowe, it’s over, stop,” Colt ordered but Denny came right back at him.

Colt didn’t touch him this time, he dodged him and Denny flew by.

“Get outta here,” Colt ordered to me, sounding impatient but his eyes never left Denny. He was focused but he knew I was there and not leaving.

Now Colt brought his gun up, his head cocked to the site and he aimed at Denny and I knew he was finished fucking around, even if Denny was no longer armed. Denny was bent double, one hand to his bleeding shoulder, the other hand dangling useless. His eyes, seething with palpable hate, were on Colt and he was panting like a dog.

I didn’t do as Colt asked. I went to Susie and pulled her dead weight up. I managed to get behind her and grabbed her under her pits, trying to be careful and failing because I was panicked. I pulled her around, yanked her down and she thudded against the floor.

I was bent double, dragging her across the floor, still watching Colt and Denny as Denny grabbed the axe with his good hand, not giving up, so insane he didn’t know he’d lost or not caring. His right shoulder was bleeding, even if Colt didn’t have a gun, he could do little harm with a gunshot wound and an axe in his left, non-dominant, hand.

Then, suddenly, coming from everywhere, the room was filled with men.

“Drop it, Lowe,” Sully demanded but Denny raised the axe unsteadily in his left hand, his eyes on Colt, a half a dozen guns aimed at him.

I fell to my knees then back to my ass as someone else shouted for Denny to freeze and I pulled Susie into my body, between my legs, protectively wrapping my arms around her ribcage. I didn’t know why I did this but I did.

And I didn’t know why I did what I did next.

But I did.

“Don’t, Denny, please, don’t,” I whispered, Denny froze, everyone froze but only Denny’s eyes came to me.

I shook my head at him. “Please. For me?”

“We hafta be together,” he told me.

God, he was totally fucking crazy.

My head was still shaking. “You don’t stop, you’ll get hurt.”

“His has to be the worst,” Denny declared, his eyes shifting to Colt and me, back and forth, back and forth, so fast, he was making me dizzy.

“It has been, Denny. I promise. It’s been the worst, for both of us,” I said and his eyes settled back on me. “When you took me away from him all those years ago, he’s been living with twenty-two years of the worst. So have I.”

“He hurt you.”

“He never hurt me, Denny.”

“He cheated on you with Amy,” Denny told me. “I saw him, you saw him.”

I tipped my head to the side before saying, “You know he didn’t do that. You know.”

“He did.”

“No, he didn’t.”

“February –”

“You took away my life,” I whispered.

His head jerked, his face grew slack for a second as if not comprehending then that crazy light lit in his eyes again and he said, “Don’t you see? I’m tryin’ to give it back. We had everything, Feb. You and me. We had it all. We were happy. So fuckin’ happy, we laughed all the time. You laughed all the time. I made you laugh. I’m your Alec, you love me, you always did and now I’ve come back.”

“You’re not my Alec. You never made me laugh. Colt made me laugh and you took that away too. You’re not Alec. You’re not Colt. You’re Denny.”

“I’m your Alec.”

“You’re Denny,” I repeated and went on. “And I’ve got it back, Denny, but I’ve lost a lot of it. You took it away. You tore it from me. Everything I had, everything I ever wanted, you took it all away. Happiness, laughter, family, babies, Alec, the real Alec, my Alec. You took it all away. Don’t make this worse. Please, just don’t. Put down the axe.”

He shook his head. “I did all of this for you. For you. I coulda made you happy. I could still make you happy.”

“It’d make me happy, you put down that axe.”

“Feb –”

“Don’t hurt anyone else for me, Denny. Not even yourself. Just put down the axe.”

“You don’t understand. Why don’t you understand? Everyone knows, everyone knows it’s Feb and Alec. It’s always been Feb and Alec. It’ll always be Feb and Alec. No one’s loved you like me.”

“You’re right about that,” I whispered. “No one’s loved me like you.”

He read my words wrong, he read them like permission, his eyes went back to Colt and I knew, I knew what I was trying wasn’t going to work.

“No one’ll ever love you like me,” he murmured and it was a vow. “All I’ve ever done, all I ever was, was for you.”

Then he lunged, I closed my eyes and screamed but I still could hear the gunfire all around me.