Mercy (Buchanan-Renard #2)

Mercy (Buchanan-Renard #2) Page 36

Theo pulled his gun from the holster, shouted for Michelle to keep her head down, just as another bullet struck the water next to them. He propped his elbow on the bench and fired his weapon.

The bastards were coming fast now. Theo was trying to shoot out the spotlight. The first shot missed, but he heard someone shout, and he hoped that meant he’d hit one of them. He squeezed the trigger again. He was on the mark this time. The bullet shattered the light, giving them maybe five, ten seconds max before one of the hitters turned his flashlight on them.

Michelle couldn’t judge how close they were to the bank. She tried to reach the throttle to slow the boat down, but it was too late. The boat suddenly lurched up, out of the water, and slammed into thorny bushes. It didn’t stop but bounced twice before striking a tree. The impact threw Theo into the front of the boat. He landed on his left side, slamming his knee into the aluminum. His upper arm, still throbbing from the cut from the window glass, hit the metal rim, tearing his skin and sending a jolt of pain down to his elbow.

Michelle’s forehead struck the bench and she cried out as she threw her arms up to protect herself.

Theo leapt out of the boat, holstered his gun, and pulled Michelle. Dazed from the impact, she shook her head, trying to clear it as she felt around the boat for the flashlight.

“Come on,” he shouted over the roar of the motor coming closer and closer.

He was lifting her when she found the flashlight. Jerking her arm free, she snatched it. Her heart was slamming against her sternum, and her head felt as though it had been split apart, the pain almost blinding as she stumbled forward.

Theo wrapped his arm around her, hauled her into his side, and, half carrying her, ran into the brush. He didn’t have the faintest idea where they were headed. Completely disoriented, he ran headlong into spiny branches. He pushed through them with his right arm. He could still hear the motor roaring in the distance and was desperate to get Michelle as far away as possible before the men docked their boat.

They fought their way through the brush and the soggy undergrowth, stopping twice to listen for signs that they were being followed. Finally, breaking out of the thicket, they stumbled forward into the open.

Michelle stopped to get her second wind. She wasn’t sure where they were.

“Should I risk it?” she asked as she lifted the flashlight and put her thumb on the switch. “I don’t think they’ll see the light if I only have it on for a second.”

“Do it.”

She flipped the switch, then breathed a sigh of relief. “I think I know where we are.” Turning the light off, she whispered, “It’s about a mile to The Swan.”

They were standing on the edge of a dirt road which, to Theo, looked like a dozen others he’d driven down.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

He clasped her hand and started running. If they could get around the bend up ahead before their pursuers reached the road, they’d be in the clear. He kept glancing over his shoulder looking for lights. The only sound was their heavy breathing and the pounding of their feet against the road.

Michelle turned on the light again, just in the nick of time, because they would have run off the road where it curved. She tripped as she turned, but Theo caught her and kept her upright without slowing down. He looked behind him again, saw the small beam of light strike the road, and increased his speed.

He was positive they hadn’t seen them.

“I’m okay now,” she panted. “I can run.”

He let go of her, then took hold of her hand, and continued on. He could see a light twinkling like a star in the distance and headed in that direction.

The stitch in Michelle’s side was burning now, and her head felt as if it were going to explode. They reached a crossroad, and Michelle doubled over, her hands clasping her knees.

“The Swan’s down the road to the left,” she panted. “We can call the police from there.”

The road was gravel and mud. He remembered driving down this lane. As he ran, he constantly scanned the brush on either side, figuring which way they would dive if he heard someone coming.

“You doing okay?” he whispered.

“I’m good,” she answered.

She felt like crying out with relief when she saw the dark building ahead of them. The feeling of euphoria was short-lived, for a scant second later, she heard the sound of a car screeching around the curve behind them.

She didn’t have time to react. One second she was glancing over her shoulder to look for headlights, and the next she was flying off the road into a gully with Theo. Michelle landed hard on her backside. Theo crouched beside her and pulled his gun out, his eyes scanning the road. They were concealed by bushes and scrub.

Michelle gingerly probed the bump on her forehead, grimacing. Her mind raced. Then she remembered what she wanted to tell Theo.

She whispered his name. He put his hand over her mouth. “Shhh,” he whispered close to her ear.

The car pulled up next to them. She fought the urge to recoil as she heard a thrashing noise in the bushes next to them. She realized she was holding her breath when her chest began to ache. She slowly, quietly exhaled. Her hand gripped Theo’s knee. More thrashing in the underbrush, then muttering as the man walked back to the car. Gravel crunched under his shoes.

The damp air was getting to her. Her eyes suddenly began to tear and she needed to sneeze. Please, God, not now. I can’t make any noise . . . not yet. She clamped her fingers over her nose and breathed through her mouth. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she pulled her T-shirt up over her mouth.

Theo heard the car door slam, and then the car moved on. He wasn’t going to take any chances, though. He strained to hear every little sound. How many were there? He knew for certain four men had tried to ambush them. He’d seen two in the front of Michelle’s house and then two who’d driven the boat to the dock. Their goal had obviously been to trap them inside the house, and he swore that as soon as they were safe and out of this jungle warfare, he would get every one of them.

He finally shifted his position to take the weight off his knees. Putting his arm around Michelle, he bent down and whispered, “They’re looking for us at The Swan, and we’re going to sit tight until they’re gone. You still doing okay?”

She nodded against him. As soon as he turned back to watch the road, she rested her cheek against his back and closed her eyes. Her heart was slowing down now. She wanted to take advantage of the temporary breather in case they had to start running again. Who were these men, and why were they after them?

She shifted her weight from one knee to the other. She felt as though she were sitting in compost. The smell of wet, rotten, decomposing leaves was thick and musty. She thought there had to be a dead animal somewhere close because she could smell the foul stench of rotting meat. She wanted to gag.

It had stopped raining. That was good, wasn’t it? God, how long had they been waiting? It seemed as though an hour had passed since they’d dived into the brush, but then time had pretty much stopped from the moment the first gunshot had been fired.

She heard the car before she saw the headlights through the branches. It came roaring down the road, passed them without slowing, and sped on.

Theo chanced it and leaned out to see which way the car was headed. It slowed at the crossroad, then went straight ahead, which meant the men hadn’t given up yet and were searching another back road. He tried but couldn’t see the license plate.

“They’ll have to give up looking for us soon,” she whispered. “It will be light, and they won’t want to risk being seen by early morning fishermen. Don’t you think they’ll give up?”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Let’s go,” he said then as he stood, bracing himself for the pain in his knee. He pulled her to her feet. “Stay close to the side of the road and don’t turn the flashlight on.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “But if you hear them coming, don’t throw me into a ditch again. Just tell me. My backside’s going to be bruised.”

He didn’t sound contrite when he said, “Better a bruise than a bullet.”

She sneezed. It felt good. “I know,” she said.

“Can you run?”

“Can you?” she asked, noticing that he was favoring one leg.

“Sure. I’m just a little stiff. Let’s move.”

There was a single light shining from a pole near the opening to the parking lot. Theo wasn’t taking any chances. He pulled Michelle over into the brush and edged around The Swan to the back door. He couldn’t see anything moving inside. The back door was metal, so Theo began to backtrack to one of the front windows, looking down at the ground now for a sturdy rock.

“I’ll have to climb in through the window,” he said as he picked up a jagged rock.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna break the glass.”

“No,” she whispered. “I know where Daddy hides his spare key.” Theo dropped the rock and walked over to the door. She turned the flashlight on and reached up over the door and picked up the key from the ledge.

“That’s a real clever hiding place,” he said.

“Don’t be sarcastic. No one would think of breaking in Daddy’s bar.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“John Paul would go after them, and they all know it. Daddy could leave the doors unlocked if he wanted to.”

It took her two tries to get the key in the lock because her hands were shaking. Aftermath, she thought. Her body was finally reacting to the terror she and Theo had lived through.

Theo went inside first, squinting into the darkness, then, keeping Michelle behind him, he told her in a whisper to lock the door. He heard the sound of the deadbolt slipping into place. The refrigerator began to hum and vibrate. The phone, he remembered, was in the main room at the end of the bar, just outside of the storage room. He thought he heard a sound, maybe a squeaky floorboard.

“Stay here,” he whispered as he pulled his gun out and cautiously walked into the bar.

The light from the parking lot cast a gray shadow on the tables and the floor. It was still dark in the corners, though. Theo went behind the bar. His eyes had adjusted to the dim light, his gaze now fully directed on the half-opened door to the storage area. It was a perfect place for a man to hide. Would they have left a man behind? No, that didn’t make any sense to Theo, but he still continued to watch the door as he crept along.

At the center of the bar, he stopped, and then reached underneath the counter to search for Jake’s shotgun. He wouldn’t miss his target with that sucker, he thought as his hand touched the butt of the shotgun. Lifting it off the bracket, he carefully pulled it out.

Theo was turning away from the counter when he felt the tiniest brush of air on the back of his neck. He knew without turning around or hearing a sound that someone was coming up behind him and coming fast.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Michelle, run,” Theo shouted. He dropped the shotgun on the counter, then pivoted, his Glock cocked and ready.

He couldn’t see the man’s face; it was too dark. The huge shadow karate-chopped Theo’s wrist, but he held tight to the gun. Then the shadow grabbed Theo’s arm and twisted it back with one hand as the other was coming up fast to nail him under the chin.

Theo ducked, but not fast enough. The shadow’s knuckles grazed his chin, snapping his head back. Searing pain shot through his jaw. Theo put every ounce of power he had in his left fist and punched the attacker in the gut. He knew then he was in real trouble. His fist felt as though he’d just struck a cement block, and he thought he might have broken his hand.

Where had the son of a bitch come from? Had he already gotten to Michelle? Enraged, Theo hit again. With the speed of a jackhammer, the man swung his foot up to kick Theo’s knee.

Michelle turned on the fluorescent lights and shouted, “John Paul! No! Let him go.”

The two adversaries were now engaged in a bear hug, each trying to use his strength to break the other’s back. When John Paul heard his sister’s shout, he let go. Theo didn’t. He tried to hit him again, hoping to smash his face, but John Paul easily blocked the punch with as much effort as it would take to swat a pesky mosquito away. In the process, his hand struck a bottle of whiskey, sending it careening into the other bottles lined up on the shelf against the wall behind the bar.

Both men took a step back at the same time, sizing each other up. Michelle got between them, glancing from one angry expression to the other, and then decided Theo was the one more out of control. She put her hand on his chest, told him to take a deep breath, and held him until he came to his senses and did as she asked.

Theo took a long hard look at the man. John Paul looked like a savage. Dressed in a pair of army green shorts, boots, and a T-shirt, he was muscular enough to be the Jolly Green Giant. Only there wasn’t anything jolly about him. The bowie knife sheathed in the lining of his boot and the steely, pissed-off look in his eyes indicated he still wanted to break every bone in Theo’s body. No, he definitely wasn’t the Jolly Green Giant. Bad comparison, Theo thought as he continued to pant for breath from the exertion and the fear that maybe Michelle had been hurt. Her brother could star in a warlock movie. His hair was almost long enough, and he had the scars — one on his cheek and another one on his thigh — to make Theo think he was a throwback to times gone by.

“Theo, I’d like you to meet my brother, John Paul.” Feeling it was safe now to let go of him, she turned to her brother. “John Paul, this is —”

Her brother cut her off. “I know who he is.”

Theo blinked. “You know who I am?”

“That’s right,” John Paul said.

John Paul had never backed away from a fight in his life, and when Theo took a step toward him, he took an immediate step forward. Michelle was squeezed between them.

“If you knew who I was, why did you jump me?” Theo growled.

“Yes, why did you?” Michelle wanted to know, craning her neck back so she could look into her brother’s eyes. “That was rude, John Paul.”

His sister always knew just what to say to make him laugh. It took effort to maintain his angry expression. Rude. Hell, yes, he supposed it had been rude.

He folded his arms across his chest. “I couldn’t let him take the shotgun,” he explained to Michelle. “He might be the kind to spook easy and shoot someone, or maybe even shoot himself in the foot.”

Theo wasn’t placated. He took another step forward. “You were trying to kick me in my bad knee, weren’t you?”