“Serious enough to shoot you and your friend if you don’t cooperate,” he said, gesturing at his gun.
Grace gestured to the brace that was visible beneath the collar of her maternity blouse. “I can’t get in your truck. I have a broken collarbone. I can’t lift myself into that vehicle and it’s too high to climb.” Charity was grateful she was still in the brace.
He cursed again as if it was her fault he hadn’t planned his kidnapping very well and then finally said, “I’ll help your damn fat ass into the truck.”
Charity knew if they got in that truck, Grace was good as dead. She envisioned jumping in it and driving back and forth over his profane ass for insulting Grace’s body and threatening them both. “Why do you have to have her? Take me.”
“I plan to keep her until she pops out that kid. I can’t
breed
you so I don’t
need
you, bitch. All I want is the kid.” Charity recalled hearing that this asshole, for by this point she was sure they were dealing with Trevor Dornan, had been attacked and castrated by a fellow inmate while in jail.
“What happens after she has the baby?”
A nasty smile crossed the bastard’s face. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I know someone else who’d like a shot at a proven breeder. But you? You’re dead weight. I don’t need you. Now get her in the truck before I put a bullet in your brain.”
There was only one thing she could do.
“No,” Charity said, positioning Grace behind her.
“Charity, what are you doing?” Grace asked, fear resonating in her voice as she looked around the parking lot.
“Keep your voice down, bitch.”
Charity raised an eyebrow. “You’re not taking my sister. You can’t risk shooting her for fear of damaging the baby, and you won’t shoot me for fear of drawing attention. If you do, you’ll never be able to get her in the truck on your own and you can bet she won’t cooperate with you.”
“Nope,” Grace said from behind her.
“I’ll shoot her in the foot. That’ll motivate her.”
“No it won’t,” Charity countered, praying for enough time for someone to see them and get suspicious. “Then she definitely won’t be able to climb, and she could get an infection and lose the baby or die.”
Just keep talking
.
“I have first aid supplies at home. I even know a thing or two about birthin’ babies.”
Grace whispered, “
Ew
.” Charity bit her lip to keep from grinning, which would be a life-threatening action, given that sweaty asshole’s state of mind.
“Help her in the truck,” he said, reaching for the gun.
“No.”
He got right in her face. “Do it now, bitch, or so help me—”
Bingo
. “That’s Ms. Bitch to you, motherfucker.” Charity pulled back and popped him right in the nose with the heel of her hand, just as Hank had taught her and her friends, then shoved his hat down on his face, which had to hurt something fierce on his busted nose. She kneed him in the groin next. He didn’t have any nuts left but she figured she should cover whatever bases she could while she had the chance.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted as he doubled over. Taking advantage of his incapacitation while it lasted, she jumped on him and screamed, “Run, Grace! Call 911!
Help
!”
“You fucking crazy bitch, get off of me!” He reached inside his jacket and she wrestled with him to keep the gun firmly lodged in his pants but he had his greater bulk and strength on his side and he fought hard to free the gun.
“You’re not taking my sister, or my nephew, you jackass. You thought you could just walk up to any pregnant woman and order her to do your bidding? I’ll show you—”
He got the gun free and she heard someone scream nearby and the sound of running feet as they fought for the gun in his hand. He gained the upper hand and pulled an arm back and slapped her in the side of the head, which made her see stars. She blinked and shook her head and jumped at him trying to grab for the gun again as he brought it down so the barrel pointed right at her.
“Not so clever now, are you?”
“Look around, nitwit, your prize is safely inside the store by now and the sheriff is likely on his way. You’re surrounded by witnesses. You shoot me and you just add to the list of charges. Are those sirens I hear?” Her heart beat so loudly it sounded like a drum in her ears.
He grimaced and growled as several people hid behind cars, either speaking into their phones or taking pictures with them. In her peripheral vision, she saw the black and gray uniform of a sheriff’s deputy, she wasn’t sure who, creep toward Trevor Dornan’s truck.
Dornan peeled back his lips and snarled at her as sirens wailed ever closer. “This is all your fault, you mouthy cunt.”
Keep him talking
, Wyatt mouthed as he climbed into the passenger side door of the truck, out of Dornan’s line of sight.
“Well, I’ll give you points for adding a little variety, dickhead. ‘Bitch’ was getting old. Give it up, Trevor. You can’t win.”
“All women are bitches, only good for one thing, and it’s not over, not by a long shot, bitch,” he said as he backed toward the open door of his truck. He reached for the steering wheel, as if ready to jump up into the truck and at the last second, he reached back with the gun in hand.
“He’s gonna shoot!” someone screamed nearby. Charity turned and ran, shielding herself with her handbag, the only thing she had with her as Wyatt leaped at Trevor from behind. The gun went off.
She tripped over her own feet as she rounded the back of her car, landing hard on her hands and knees. “Ow. That stings.” She huddled as she listened to the scuffle taking place on the other side of her car until she finally heard Wyatt growl into his radio, requesting an ambulance and assistance. The sounds of renewed scuffling worried her and she curled into a ball, unable to crawl away because the strength seemed to have deserted her arms and legs.
“I’ve got him secured, Charity. You okay?” Wyatt called.
“Yeah.” She turned so she was sitting on her ass on the warm asphalt and looked down. When she’d fallen, she’d landed so hard that she’d ripped the knee of her blue jeans and scraped the skin beneath. Yeah, those jeans were definitely toast. Her hand shook as she examined the scrape and then she realized her whole right arm trembled.
She thought it was just shock and an overabundance of adrenaline in her system until she saw the blood coursing down her arm. As if seeing the source somehow flipped a switch, pain suddenly flared. “Whoa. That’s not just a scrape.” It dawned on her that she’d been shot. As a phlebotomist used to the sight of blood, she was more than a little put out with herself when her vision went fuzzy.
Bernadette reached her first, took one look at her arm and said, “The EMTs are on their way, honey.” She ripped off the cardigan she was wearing and wadded it up to press against the wound. Charity hissed in pain but held still.
Someone else in the crowd coaxed her to lie back as she asked, “Where’s Grace? I told her to run.” She could hear more sirens coming closer.
Bernadette smiled encouragingly at her. “She’s fine, honey. She’s inside where she’s nice and safe. We’re gonna get you taken care of real quick.”
“She’s okay. That’s good.” To her own ears her voice sounded slurred.
The last thing she saw was Eli Wolf as he ran up with his kit and set to work. “Hey, ass-kicker, we gotta stop meeting like this.”
“Ain’t this some shit, Eli?” she asked with a weak smile and then everything went gray.
* * * *
Val’s heart pounded wildly as he ran through the emergency room doors with Ransome at his side. Grace had called him and Ransome out on a jobsite just a few minutes before, telling them only to get to the hospital, and that Charity had been shot by Trevor Dornan.
God, please let her be okay! This is our fault!
Thanks to their jobs, they’d placed people they loved in danger. The topper was the fact that she’d been so upset with them earlier that morning. He hadn’t had time to smooth that over yet, neither of them had.
He spotted Justin standing at the reception desk with Grace and Jack. Val studied Justin’s face as they both strode over to him, searching for a sign as to Charity’s condition. The man looked like he’d aged ten years.
Grace nodded at something Justin said and smiled at them and that gave him hope.
“She’s okay,” Justin said, laying hands on both their shoulders. Relief surged inside of Val.
“Where is she? How is she?” Ransome asked, sounding about as desperate to see her as Val felt.
“They’ve removed the bullet from her upper arm and they’re taking care of the wound right now. She’s lucky.”
“She’s crazy is what she is,” Grace said, stroking her bulging abdomen. “That guy—Trevor Dornan, wanted me to get in his truck, and do you know what Charity did?”
Oh hell.
“She pushed me behind her and told him no.
‘No.’
Can you believe that? I was ready to wet my pants I was so scared and she told him, ‘No.’”
Justin gazed at Grace and Jack and smiled. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Actually, it sounds just like her.”
Val nodded. “It does.”
Jack and Grace explained to the two of them what had transpired in Cheaver’s parking lot and Val said, “He wanted to take Grace because he couldn’t find Jessica?”
This
is
our fault.
“That and also because Jessica had a baby girl. He wanted a boy, and in his mind, Grace was a likely candidate to give him that, since it’s no secret she’s carrying a boy,” Jack said. The fire in his eyes told them how he felt about Dornan’s strategy. The possessive way he laid his hand over Grace’s abdomen said he was going to have a hard time letting her out of his sight for a while. Val couldn’t blame him.
Ransome ran his fingers through his hair and said, “I’m so sorry.”
“What?” Grace asked, looking mystified.
Val nodded in agreement. “You nearly got kidnapped, Charity got shot, Jessica and her baby have had to hide out— it’s all blow-back from one of our last jobs. We drew Dornan’s crazy ass here.”
Grace waved a dismissive hand and shook her head, a confident grin on her face. “No, Val. Let me tell you, ‘crazy’ has a habit of finding its way to Divine on a regular basis. We’d never hold the two of you responsible for the actions of that lunatic.”
Val shook his head, unwilling to accept her ready explanation. “If this had ended differently, if you’d had no choice but to do what he’d said, if he’d—God forbid—actually killed Charity. That would all be on us.”
Grace reached out and squeezed his forearm. “Talk to Charity about it, okay? I doubt she feels that way and I know I don’t. Jessica sounds like she’s happy to be here with her baby and now she no longer needs to hide. Don’t take on unnecessary guilt, Val. We’re happy you’ve made Divine your home and we wouldn’t trade that for anything.”
Giving Grace an affirming nod, Justin said, “She’s right. And you should already know how Charity feels about that, too.”
The doctor came out and spoke with them about Charity’s injuries. They’d removed the bullet from her upper arm and she’d needed stitches. Because he’d prescribed intravenous fluids and antibiotics, he wanted to keep her overnight.
They followed the doctor back to her curtained cubicle in the emergency room and the knot in Val’s chest finally unfurled when she looked up as the pale blue privacy curtains parted for them. The slow, playful smile on her face said she was feeling very little in the way of pain. “My guys,” she said in a wispy voice. She tried to sit up but the nurse cajoled her into staying where she was.
The doctor was about to leave when Val stopped him. “Where’s the bastard who did this to her?”
The doctor pointed down the curtain-lined corridor to a closed door. “He’s restrained to his bed in isolation and there’s an officer with him. He’s got a concussion from when the deputy tackled him, besides the broken nose. My understanding is that state law enforcement is already on their way to pick him up.” The doctor smiled at Charity with admiration in his gaze. “I heard what she did. That’s one brave lady and I’m damn glad I could patch her up for you.” He looked like he wanted to say more but put Charity’s chart in its receptacle and moved on.
There was only one chair and it was on the other side of the bed. Val didn’t care as he went to her and kneeled down on the tile floor and took her hand. He shuddered in relief and looked up at her with a grin, trying to not contemplate how this could’ve all turned out different and remembering how much she didn’t like being in the hospital.
“For someone who hates coming to this place, you sure do seem to spend a lot of time hanging out here, baby.”
“Shh,” she said in a loud whisper, pointing to the nurse and giggling. “I don’t want to hurt their feelin’s. They’ve been so nice to me and they can’t help it that I hate it here.” She fell back against the bed and sighed happily as she closed her eyes and then whispered, “Whoa, the room is spinnin’. I feel fun-nun-nun-ny.”
Justin chuckled and said, “Someone’s comfortably numb. I know she’s in good hands so I’m going to slip out and make some calls. That okay with you, babe?” He leaned over and kissed her.