Born to Die Read online

  Her stomach roiled at the bloody mess that was his right knee. “Shit.”

  With his jaw clamped shut, Jennings uttered a pain-filled sound that was a cross between a scream and a groan. His head flopped back onto the snow as he beat his fists into the ground.

  “Stop moving.”

  “Fuck, it hurts.”

  Ignoring his steady stream of F-bombs, Cassy peeled away the tattered pant leg and grimaced. The shot had ripped through his knee; it was likely shattered. He might lose his lower limb, or never walk right again. Her own knees began to ache.

  “You’ll live if you don’t do something stupid.” She scanned his body, searching for the best tourniquet for the job. “Can you take off your neck gaiter?”

  “I can’t ... ” His words died in a moan.

  Cassy located his knife, cut through the gaiter, and slid it out from around his neck. The movements sent him into another round of F-bombs. “Damn, Jennings, the language.”

  “It hurts.”

  “I know it does,” she said as she carefully tucked the gaiter under his thigh, “but I’ve never heard you use that word before. It’s shocking.”

  He lay there panting. Cassy brought the gaiter around then pulled it tight. She packed snow around the knee.

  “Jennings, I’m going after them.”

  His eyes—dilated from shock—flared open, and he stared at her. “Not alone.”

  “I don’t have a choice. They’re getting away. If they make it to a vehicle, we’ll never catch them.”

  He grasped at her sleeve, missing and letting his hand flop. “Cassy, they’ll take you down. Don’t go.”

  Two deadly killers with nothing to lose against one? The odds were definitely not in her favor. But with Jennings seriously injured and the other officers too far away, she knew Ian and Kendra would be long gone before anyone capable of going with her could be there in time. This was her chance to finally prove to herself that the woods would not mentally cripple her any longer. It was time to bury The Priest forever. She grabbed her partner’s hand and squeezed.

  “Keep snow on it until you’re hauled out of here.” She released his hand and stood.

  “Cassy, you don’t have a thing to prove.”

  “They’ve screwed with us long enough. It ends now.” She took off at a jog.

  She couldn’t miss the large amounts of blood that flagged where these kids had waited in ambush. Whoever was injured had been here a while … and left a blatant trail. At this point, neither probably cared to hide. Cassy squinted. That was just fine by her.

  Hefting the shotgun into ready position, she took off after them. They had a good ten minutes on her, but they were slowed by the blood loss. And it was becoming clear that it was a female with Ian, by the drops of blood paired with the smaller boot prints. The only known female to be associated with him was Kendra.

  A few yards along, Cassy spotted a place where Kendra had fallen. Another twenty yards … there was another spot. Over the sound of her boots moving across the ground, the clink of her gear, and her breathing, Cassy heard voices. Picking up her pace, she charged on. The voices grew louder.

  “You fucking idiot. You led us right to the bluff.”

  “So we climb down it. It’s nothing but a creek.”

  “I’ve been shot. How the hell do you expect me to get down there?”

  “You’re a fucking bitch, Kendra.”

  Cassy skidded to a halt and found a good place for protection. She leaned against the tree and aimed her shotgun at the two standing near the edge of the bluff. It wasn’t a high one, just too high to jump down into the creek and take off. Kendra held her left side, a fat bead of blood dripping from between her ungloved fingers. Ian backed away from Kendra, his breaths coming out in rapid puffs. They were both wearing all black clothing but missing the shotguns. Must have thrown them aside when they became a burden or possibly ran out of ammo. They didn’t appear to be wearing anything to carry extra shells.

  “I should have dumped your ass when I had the chance,” Kendra snarled.

  Ian raised his arm. “Why you—”

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Ian.”

  Cassy’s voice startled him. He whirled, yanking a pistol from his waistline. Kendra turned her back to the bluff and inched closer to Ian.

  “Drop the weapon, Ian. This won’t end well if you don’t.”

  Both teens did a frantic scan of the area, looking for Cassy. Apparently she blended well with her background.

  “Put the gun down.”

  “No.” He lifted it, aiming it in random places. “Show yourself.”

  “Not likely. I’ve seen firsthand what you do to people who get in your way.”

  “Just shoot,” Kendra hissed. “It’s one woman. We can make a run for it.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it, Kendra. There are police crawling all over these woods. Why don’t you put down the gun and surrender? We’ll get that wound taken care of.”

  “Fuck off, bitch!”

  Cassy lowered her head, putting her eye in line with the scope. She didn’t need it, but there wasn’t time to remove it from the shotgun. “Let’s think about this rationally, you two. I’ve got you in my sights, and I don’t miss. The last thing I want to do is shoot you. Let’s end this peacefully.”

  Ian adjusted his grip on the pistol, widening his stance. There was a swagger to his pose, like he was trying to mimic Christopher Walken. Who the hell was this kid hoping to impress?

  If that’s the way he wanted this standoff to end, so be it. Cassy leaned into the cheek weld, waiting.

  Kendra, on the other hand, looked angrier than a bear awakened from winter hibernation. If anyone was going to push Ian to doing something stupid, it was her. “What are you waiting for? Kill her.”

  “I need to find her first, Kendra, makes it easier. Why don’t you go in there and drag her out?”

  “Again, your fucking sister shot me.” Kendra pushed at his shoulder, making Ian stagger a few steps closer to the edge of the bluff. “I should have killed her and that bitch cop before they got out of the river.”

  “Would you shut the hell up? The more you talk, the more you give them crap to use against us.”

  “Like I give a fuck.”

  Well, that was nice. They’d just placed themselves at the scene of another crime to charge them with. If Cassy played this right, she could turn Ian on Kendra.

  “Ian, she’s been manipulating you from the start.”

  Smirking, Kendra peered up at him. “Listen to that. She’s trying to tell you what to do. Just like your daddy did.”

  His father must have been Kendra’s leverage to get what she wanted out of him, because the swagger was melting into fury. Angry red blotches popped onto Ian’s face, and his eyes turned hard as coal.

  Keep pushing him. “Ian, she’s doing it again. I bet anything she convinced you her family was evil to her. That’s why they had to die.”

  He raised his left hand and tore the stocking cap from his head. “Shut up!”

  “I’m giving you a chance to surrender peacefully and come with me. Don’t make this another Bonnie and Clyde situation, Ian. It’s not worth it.”

  “You know the truth, baby, don’t let her get to you.” Kendra leaned against him as seductively as her wounded body would allow. “You know I love you, right?”

  He shoved her away. “Damn it, Kendra, you’re making it worse. Shut up!”

  “How is she making it worse?” Cassy pressed. “Am I right? Did she manipulate you into killing her family? Into robbing those banks? Harming people? How about your family, Ian? What was it she said to you that convinced you you had to kill Jolie? Your sister. Your ally.”

  The gun wobbled, and his stance slackened. She’d found her button. His sister. Ian wasn’t a total monster.

  “Think about it. What did Jolie do that deserved her death? She loves you. She wants the best for you. It was Jolie who stood between you and your father. Kendra has done
only damage. You let her tell you what to do. How is she any different than your dad?”

  “Oh, you bitch,” Kendra snarled.

  Emotions warred within Ian, the battle playing out in his stiff body and fluctuating expressions. The pistol started to lower. If she wanted to drive this home, she’d have to risk exposing herself to Ian. This time, he’d have to face his potential victim with a gun pointed back at him. The Clydes had been mowed down where they stood, the bank employees hadn’t been able to put up a fight, and Wallis had never gotten the chance. If Ian wanted to be a heartless outlaw, then he was going to do it with his life flashing before his eyes. Cassy stepped out from behind the tree. Both Ian and Kendra startled at her appearance.

  “The decision is yours: drop the gun and surrender, or prove you’re the killer she’s groomed you to be.”

  “Ian, look at me.” Kendra grasped his chin and forced his head her way. “I love you. We love each other. Remember, we did this together, so we could be together. We’ll get out of here. There’s a house just over there with a car. We can make it before they get us. Just shoot her.”

  “Ian, this isn’t what love is.”

  His gaze flicked to Cassy then back to Kendra.

  Kendra winced as she rolled up on her toes to stare him in the eyes. “What would she know? You know the truth, baby. We love each other. We can make it.”

  “Ian, Kendra’s not going to make it. Her wound is more serious than you think. That bullet hit her stomach, she’s already lost a lot of blood, and it’s only getting worse. She needs medical attention, now.” Cassy made a minor adjustment with her aim. “Ian, think about it. There’s no way out of this. Surrender.”

  “Is she right, Kendra? Are you hurt bad?”

  “I’ll be fine; we just have to get out of here.”

  “You’ll have to go to the hospital. We go there, they’ll get us anyway.”

  “It’s a scratch, Ian.” She yanked on his arm. “Do it. Shoot her. Now.”

  Ian shook his head. “I can’t. You need to—”

  “I won’t go to prison!” Kendra grabbed the gun out of his hand and swung it toward Cassy.

  The memory of The Priest pointing a gun at her head flickered through Cassy’s mind as her finger tightened against the trigger. The shotgun bucked against her shoulder. The slug hit Kendra center mass, making her jerk back. Her boots slipped off the edge of the bluff, and she tumbled over backward.

  Ian screamed and dropped to his knees at the edge of the bluff, reaching for her.

  Cassy stalked forward, keeping a steady aim on Ian. “Ian, on the ground, hands above your head.”

  “She’s … she’s ... ”

  “Kendra is gone, Ian. Get on the ground, hands above your head. Now.”

  Sobbing, he obeyed. Cassy lowered her shotgun and dropped next to him, bringing his arms down behind his back and cuffing him. He continued to sob, smacking his forehead into the ground.

  Cassy chanced a peek over the bluff. Kendra lay twisted and broken in the creek bed, her hair flowing with the water’s current. Closing her eyes, Cassy rocked back on her heels and stood.

  It shouldn’t have had to end this way. Born in privilege, Kendra had abused her situation, then decided it wasn’t enough, and destroyed her whole family. Now she was dead. For what?

  A barrage of footsteps sounded behind her. Cassy turned as Hamilton, with Nash and Boyce, emerged from the tree line.

  “Deputy?” Hamilton asked.

  “It’s over, sir.” She moved into Boyce’s embrace. “Why in the hell are you out here?”

  “I couldn’t stay back there and wait,” he said then kissed her damp forehead. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. Sheriff, how’s Jennings?”

  “Getting hauled out of here.” With Nash’s help, Hamilton hoisted the emotional Ian onto his feet. “As much as I hate to condone what you did, Rivers, coming after them alone, you did good.”

  She nodded. “Too bad it wasn’t enough for Kendra.”

  “We all make our choices,” Boyce said. “Some people are just born to die.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Christmas Day

  Brilliant sunshine streamed through the half-closed blinds. With his head propped on his fist, Boyce watched Cassy sleep, her blond hair a tangled mess on her pillow. The dark circles that had been a constant friend around her eyes were starting to fade. He wanted to caress her face but didn’t want to wake her. She’d been going nonstop since shooting Kendra Clyde, getting a confession out of Ian Murdoch on the robberies and the murders, and playing her role in Mother’s arrest. Then the two of them had been up late for the Christmas Eve celebration at Nic’s house.

  He’d found himself drawn into the Rivers/O’Hanlon crowd, despite the daggers Nic had thrown his way all night. Cassy appeared more at ease around her father. Whatever discussion the two had had before now probably involved half a dozen broken dishes, but it looked like they’d at least spared the glassware. And watching Cassy love on her nephew did a real number on Boyce’s heart. Since he’d never had any interaction with children, he felt a bit stilted holding Liam. But the boy didn’t seem to care, and Boyce found himself relaxing. The night had ended with William Rivers pulling him aside.

  “What are your intentions with my daughter, Agent Hunt?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “Do you love her?”

  Boyce met The General’s inquiry with silence. How should he answer the man when he hadn’t spoke the words to Cassy?

  “Whatever you decide, make sure it’s the right choice for the both of you.” With that, the man returned to his wife and took his grandson to cuddle the tyke close to his chest.

  Now Boyce brushed aside a wisp of blond hair, careful not to disturb Cassy. With a sigh, he eased out of bed, dressed in a pair of athletic pants and a loose-fitting T-shirt, then headed out to the kitchen. He was craving a cup of coffee and French toast.

  A brightly wrapped box with an envelope propped against it on the island counter gave him pause. His name was scrawled across the front of the envelope, but it wasn’t in Cassy’s handwriting. Fully intrigued, he untucked the unsealed flap, pulled out the card, and opened it.

  Boyce,

  Con wouldn’t let me use my usual name for you, so consider this a truce. Cassy’s my little sister, and I’m insanely protective of her. I wasted too many years without her, missing some important milestones. One of those was her finding the one guy she loves. She’s too much of a Rivers to admit it without knowing if it will be reciprocated. You wanted my help with her, so here’s my help.

  Step it up.

  As much as I hate to admit it, if I had to pick someone for her, it would be you. Here’s a little incentive for you not to break her heart for the final time. She loves these damn things for some reason.

  Nic

  Staring at Nic’s words, he set the card down flat. Cassy had mentioned to Nic at some point that she loved him. He glanced back toward the bedroom. Did she still feel the same way? Had she truly ever stopped loving him?

  Boyce slumped onto a barstool. He’d mucked it all up, and he was about to do it again, for good, if he didn’t figure this mess out.

  Slowly, he removed the wrapping from the box and lifted the decorative lid. Nestled on a pillow of cotton batting was a delicate crystal horse with gold-painted hooves, mane, and tail. Black felt peeked out from under the horse. It was a tiny box, and as he pulled it out, Boyce’s whole body seized with the thought of what was hidden inside. The lid opened with a creak.

  This belonged to Cassy’s grandmother. Use wisely. Emma.

  Panic suffocated him. They were pushing him too fast, too soon. Closing the ring box with a snap, he shoved it back under the crystal horse, topped the gift box with its lid, and buried the gift under his discarded coat. This was crazy. He’d just come to realization that he loved Cassy. Marriage—any long-term commitment—scared the hell out of him. What was her family trying to do to hi
m? Ensure he did the unforgiveable and ran from Cassy forever?

  The soft shuffle of feet startled him. He turned as Cassy, wearing a hip-hugging pair of pink flannel pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt, came around the corner. She gave him a sleepy smile. “Morning. Merry Christmas.” She kissed him on the lips.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said against her mouth.

  “You’re up early.”

  “It’s eight a.m. That’s not early.”

  “I don’t smell coffee.”

  “I was distracted by some thoughts. I was getting there.”

  She gave him a peck. “I’ll get it.” She slipped around him. “What kind of thoughts?”

  He followed her movements in the kitchen. His heart began to tap out a strange beat, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin. Now, tell her now. She should know. And what better time or day to tell her? Wiping his damp palms on his pants, he pulled in a jagged breath and let it out slowly.

  “Cassy, I love you.”

  She’d been ruffling her hair as she walked toward the coffeemaker. Her hand stilled, and she came to a complete halt and turned.

  “What did you say?”

  The glistening in her eyes told him she’d heard, but her mind hadn’t wrapped around what he’d told her. Closing the gap between them, he took her hand and pulled her to him.

  “I love you,” he said in a softer voice.

  “You … you do?”

  “You doubt my sincerity?”

  She stepped out of his embrace. “No, it’s … when? When did you … ?”

  “When did I come to realize that I love you? When you hiked off into those woods to confront a pair of killers.”

  She blinked. “You didn’t say anything.”

  “Because I couldn’t have you dwelling on that while you were trying to do your job.” He pulled her back into his arms. “There’s never been a good time to tell you, until now.”

  Her arms wrapped around his waist, and she pressed into him. Boyce settled his chin on the top of her head. They stood that way for a moment. Would she return the admission? Or had he blown it for good? True, she’d pushed and prodded him to open up to his feelings for her, to anyone for that matter, but had she done it to provoke him without putting her heart on the line?