by Cynthia Eden
“He was your friend.”
Gideon’s hand tightened around the gun. “And I’ll cry at his funeral.”
What a sick sonofa—
He was going to shoot!
Julia lurched to the side just as the bullet exploded from the gun. The old chair hit the wooden floor, and the chair legs shattered.
***
As soon as the SUV braked, Bran jumped out of the vehicle. They were at an old cabin on the edge of town, one with a FOR RENT sign in front, and Rick had gotten directions to the location from a Wilde agent via Bluetooth—the woman had been tracking Julia’s GPS from her phone.
Please be in there, baby. Be alive and—
As Rick and Bran stared up at the old cabin, a gunshot rang out.
Bran lost his fucking mind. He ran straight for the cabin even as he heard Rick bellowing his name and telling him to stop. No way was he going to stop.
He reached the front door. It was locked. So he just reared back and kicked it as hard as he could. The door flew in, chunks of wood hit the ground, and Bran barreled inside with his gun—the one he’d taken from Rick and kept—drawn and ready. “Julia!”
His gaze swept the scene.
Lanterns were on the floor. They lit the interior of a cavernous den. Julia was slumped on the floor, her hair covering her face, her arms twisted behind her back, and her ankles tied to broken chair legs. Was she breathing? Bran couldn’t tell. He rushed to her and fell to his knees. “Julia? Baby?”
“Bran, shit, wait!” Rick flew in after him.
Bran’s head whipped up and around as he glanced back at Rick.
He glanced back—just in time to see a figure lunge from the darkness behind the entrance. From behind the door that Bran had kicked in. The figure surged toward Rick. There was a hard thud, and Rick slumped to the floor.
Bran aimed his gun.
The shadowy figure stepped forward. Gideon came into the lantern light with his own weapon pointed right back at Bran. A cold smile was on his face. “Hello, friend.”
Chapter Twenty
“You’re not going to shoot me,” Gideon said with a shake of his head. “So why don’t you just put that gun down?”
Bran didn’t waste words.
“You’re a singer. A performer, you aren’t—”
Fuck this.
Bran fired, and he kept firing. The bullets blasted, charging one right after the other into Gideon’s chest. Gideon’s eyes widened in shock right before he fell back and slammed into the floor close to Rick’s prone form.
Hell, yes, I’m going to shoot. I’ll do anything for Julia.
Bran put down his gun. His hands were shaking when he grabbed for Julia. “Be alive. Oh, God, you have to be alive. Baby, be alive…” The words tore from him as he carefully pushed back her hair. Her lashes lay still against her cheek. Her lips were parted, but was she breathing? His hand went to her throat as he searched so desperately for a pulse.
He didn’t feel anything.
The darkness around him stretched and grew. Bigger and deeper, getting ready to swallow him alive. When he’d first found out the truth about her, he’d been pissed at Julia for lying. Why? She’d been doing her damn job. He should’ve been grateful that she was in his life. Grateful for every smile she gave him. Grateful for her laughter. Her touch. Grateful for her because she lit up his life. Grateful to her because he’d been surrounded by everything but felt he had nothing real in his world. Until her.
She was real. She was his. She was—
Her pulse jerked beneath his fingers.
She was alive.
He grabbed for the rope around her ankles. Stupid freaking knots. He yanked and jerked at them, and Bran wished he had a knife with him. “I’m getting you out, baby!” He pressed a wild, desperate kiss to her cheek. “I’ll get you out and get you to a hospital.” Because he could see the blood on her. Mostly on her thigh. So much blood.
He got her ankles free. He leaned over her, tugging her arms away from the chair’s back.
Bran thought he heard her whisper something.
He was on top of her, his arms stretching to free her wrists. “What is it, baby? What?”
Her lips moved again. He’d pressed his ear closer to her, and her lips feathered over him as she said—
“Bullet-proof…vest…”
She wasn’t wearing a vest. She had on a thin t-shirt. The sweatshirt she’d worn when she’d left the bed and breakfast was long gone and—
Fuck me.
He whipped around, coming up on his knees. Bran tried to grab for the gun he’d put down moments before.
But Gideon kicked it out of the way. The gun Bran had used flew across the room.
“Guess what, dumbass? As sheriff, I had a fucking bullet-proof vest in my trunk. Your lady reminded me that I should wear it. You never know when that shit will come in handy.”
Sonofabitch.
“Know what Bran? You look friggin’ good for a dead man,” Gideon spat at him. “What was that shit I heard on the radio about you being dead? A lie?”
Damn straight it had been a lie. “And you look like a murdering sonofabitch,” Bran threw back as he stared up at the man who’d been his friend.
Gideon’s right arm was fully extended as he aimed his gun. “You did this. You did all of this.”
“Are you insane?” Bran moved his body, making sure he was shielding Julia. He’d managed to free her hands right before he’d whirled around, but she still lay limply on the floor. “I didn’t kidnap Julia! I didn’t plant bombs. I didn’t—”
“You’re a selfish bastard! You use, you destroy, and then you move on!” Gideon roared. “Just like you did to Fiona. You used her—”
“She was my friend. Your friend.”
“You wanted her to follow your wild lifestyle. You got her to head to Nashville and told her she could be a model—”
“Hathway did that,” Bran’s fury poured through his veins. “I just found out that she went to see him. I didn’t even know about that!” But so what? So what if Fiona had wanted to follow her dreams, too? How was that wrong?
“She didn’t want me to come back to her,” Gideon shouted. “She didn’t want me. She wanted the life that you were going to have. She wanted fame. She wanted her face on magazines. She wanted everything but me! And then…then some bastard took her away before I could convince her that she was wrong. Some freak killed her in the dark, and I lost her and I never had a chance and it—”
“Wrecked you,” Bran finished. Wasn’t that what Gideon had once said? Only he’d been saying that Bran’s life was wrecked. That he’d spiraled after Fiona’s death. The truth was… “You were in love with her.” He’d always suspected that. “She rejected you. She died. And it wrecked you.”
Fiona’s death had turned Gideon into…this?
“You don’t get to have it all,” Gideon said, voice softer, rougher. “You don’t get to have the fancy homes, the sell-out crowds. All the women you want. You don’t get to have that while I watch from the shadows. You don’t get to use and destroy. You don’t get to live happily ever after.”
“Put down the gun, Gideon.”
“You’re not going to walk out of here. I’m going to kill you. Then I’m going to kill that bitch who thinks she loves you.”
You will not touch Julia. Not ever again.
“And after you take your last breath, I’ll burn the place around you. Destroy all the evidence that I was involved. I’ll say it was Geneva’s partner. I’ll say it was all him. He escaped after he knocked me out. I tried to save you, but I failed.” He looked down and kicked Rick’s body, hitting him in the ribs.
Rick didn’t move.
“I’ll let this guy burn, too. You can all three burn.” Gideon pulled back his foot to kick Rick again, only this time, Rick rolled swiftly and he caught the bastard’s boot.
“Let me the fuck go!” Gideon jerked the gun around to aim it at Rick.
Bran launched forward. H
e threw his body into Gideon’s, and they both hit the floor. The impact drove the air from Bran’s lungs. He grabbed Gideon’s wrist and broke it with a vicious snap. The gun fell from Gideon’s fingers as he howled in pain.
Bran drove his fist into Gideon’s face. Once.
He took Julia.
Twice.
He shot her.
Three times.
He was going to burn her.
Four times.
Gideon’s nose crunched beneath his blows.
“Okay, okay, hoss…” Rick grabbed Bran, hauling him up. “I think he’s done.”
Bran twisted in Rick’s hold. “No, no, he’s not—”
And Gideon wasn’t done, damn him. Gideon twisted and grabbed for his boot, and Bran knew the bastard was going for a back-up weapon. He was going to yank out a second gun and shoot.
But before Gideon could do it, a long, two-inch chunk of jagged wood was shoved into his arm.
Gideon screamed in pain, and he fell back.
“Yes, asshole, it hurts, doesn’t it?” Julia taunted. She grabbed for his boot and jerked out the gun. She aimed it at him. “Twitch, and I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
Oh, damn, but she was gorgeous. She’d used one of the broken chair legs to stab Gideon in the upper arm. Vicious and hard-core and maybe the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
She looked at Bran. Smiled. “We’re going to be all right.”
No, there is no maybe about it. Julia is definitely the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
Her gaze flew back to Gideon. A groaning, moaning Gideon. “You’re not going to be okay, though, Gideon. You’re not going to be the hero. You’re just going to be the jerk-off felon who spends the rest of his life in prison. Sure hope you enjoy playing that role.”
***
There was shock. Disbelief. As the deputies rushed to the scene, they couldn’t believe their boss was a killer.
Yeah, well, sometimes, you just didn’t really know a person. Not even a best friend.
Wilde agents were with the deputies, making extra certain that Gideon didn’t get away as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance. The chunk of wood was still sticking from his upper arm. It had gone straight through—in one side and out the other. Looked painful as fuck. Bran figured it served the asshole right. As far as Bran was concerned, Gideon was due a whole lot more pain. His hands clenched as rage boiled inside of him. If Gideon had gotten his way, Julia would have died. Julia, Bran, and Rick would have all burned in the flames.
But he didn’t get his way. This is over. All over.
He turned away from Gideon and strode to the person who mattered. Julia was already in the back of a second ambulance. Her jeans had been slashed all the way to her hip so that the EMTs could work on her. He’d been told that she was lucky, that the bullet hadn’t hit her femoral artery. If it had, she would’ve bled out long ago.
“Hey, buddy, back up.” An EMT with short-cropped, red hair stepped into his path and put a hand on Bran’s chest. “Unless you’re family, you’re not getting in there. We need to take this woman to the hospital.”
No, he wasn’t family, but he was getting in the ambulance. “You’ll want to remove the hand.”
Determination sharpened the EMT’s voice. “And you’ll want to step back. Family only. We need to go—”
Bran stepped around the guy and leapt into the back of the ambulance.
The redhead sputtered after him. Yelled for deputies. Whatever. Like those guys were going to do anything.
Julia’s head turned. Her skin was so freaking pale, and dark circles lined her eyes. “Are you causing trouble?” she whispered.
He caught her hand in his. Held tight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“He needs to go!” The redhead was pointing toward Bran. “He needs to—”
“Stay,” Julia said as she struggled to sit up on the stretcher. “He…stays. Understand?”
Bran kissed her hand. “You heard the lady.” Her thigh was still pulsing blood. Just how much blood had she lost? He glared at the redhead. “Why the hell aren’t we on the way to the hospital?”
The redhead’s mouth opened, closed, but then he jumped into the ambulance and yanked the doors closed behind him. He cast a sideways glance at Bran. “Why do you look familiar?”
“I’ve got one of those faces.” Bran stared down at Julia. Too pale.
The redhead yelled for the driver to go. The siren screamed as the vehicle lurched forward.
***
Her room was filled with flowers. Julia could smell them even before she opened her eyes. Normally, hospitals were all anti-septic and sterile, but her room smelled like a garden.
Her lashes lifted. Roses were to the right. Lilies to the left. Orchids waited at the foot of her bed.
And right beside her, with his hand curled around her wrist…was Bran.
When he caught her stare, he smiled at her.
Her lips trembled as she smiled back. The first thing she said? Julia wet her lips and whispered, “That’s…a lot of flowers.”
He blinked. His smile wavered. Did he look nervous? “I didn’t know what flower was your favorite.”
Once more, she licked her dry lips. Julia tentatively stretched her leg and felt the pull of stitches in her thigh. Her head ached, and she was pretty sure she had a concussion—or two. Gideon had hit her with the butt of his gun while they’d been in the patrol car, and back at the cabin, she’d taken a header into the floor so that she could dodge the bullet he fired at her. “You didn’t know my f-favorite…” Her voice was weak. A little too raspy and husky. “So you g-got them all?”
He nodded.
That was sweet. Also, so very Bran. “Thank you.”
He glanced away.
“Bran?”
“Gideon is in jail. Turns out, he hated me. Had for years. He was kind of living just to destroy me.” His hand moved so that their fingers twined though he didn’t meet her gaze. “And you got caught in that.”
Julia ached at the pain she heard in his voice. Betrayal was hard. When you found out someone you had trusted was a killer, that tore straight through you.
“I’m sorry you were hurt,” he rasped.
She tugged on their linked hands. His head turned so that his gaze found hers. She loved staring into his golden eyes. “I’m glad we’re both alive.”
Bran nodded.
“None of this is on you, Bran. None.”
“I thought you were dead.” A low, gravel-rough confession. “When I saw all the blood in the patrol car, I thought he’d killed you.” His eyes darkened. “I went absolutely batshit crazy. I lost everything in that moment. I couldn’t breathe. Rage was all I knew. I wanted to find Gideon and rip him apart because he’d taken the most important thing in the world from me.”
She shook her head. The movement hurt, so she stopped. “Bran, I’m coming off a concussion and things are a little hazy right now.”
Instantly, he moved closer to her as worry filled his eyes.
She smiled. “So I just want you to be very clear…when you say ‘most important thing’ just what do you mean?”
“I mean nothing matters more than you.” His face was dead serious. “I mean I would give up my music, I would give up the tours, I would give up the money and houses, I would give up everything else in my life if it meant I could have you with me.”
“I-I didn’t ask you to give up—”
“I’m not just the asshole you see in the press.”
She already knew that.
“I’m not some dumb playboy who doesn’t know the best thing in the world when he sees it.”
That was exceptionally good to hear, though she’d realized that on her own.
“I’ve made mistakes. I’ll make more. I’m as far from perfect as a guy can get.”
Perfect was boring. She wasn’t big on boring.
“But I swear, Julia, I can be the man you want. I can treat you like a queen for the rest of your li
fe. I will be faithful to you. I will put you first. I will love you until the day that I take my last breath.”
Okay, he’d very, very clearly explained what he meant by his “most important thing” line.
“I know we’re moving fast. I know we crashed into each other only days ago, but I don’t want to lose you. We can make this work, I know we can, because nothing has ever mattered to me more. Nothing will ever matter to me more than you. I want to be with you, baby. Today. Always.” His breath was ragged. “When you came into my life, I heard music. You are my music. Please, Julia, say that you’ll—”
“Yes.”
He squinted at her. “Uh…yes, what?”
She stared at him.
A slow, sexy smile curled his lips. “When you say ‘yes’—just what do you mean?”
“I mean that we can make this work.” They could do whatever it took. Long distance? If they had to. But she wanted to be with him. Up close and personal. “I mean that it’s only been a few days, but it feels like a lifetime.” Like she’d been waiting her whole life to find him. “I mean that I want to see what happens between us. Whether we make it a year or fifty, I want to try. I want to live with you. I want to laugh with you. I want to spend as many days as I can loving you…because I do love you, Bran Copper. I love you and—”
He was kissing her. Climbing onto the hospital bed with her and kissing her with wild, wonderful abandon. Kissing her deep and hard, kissing her with love and care, kissing her as if she was the most precious, wonderful, worshipped thing in his world.
Julia kissed him back with all the passion that she had. With all the need and love.
Bran Copper. Rock star. Bad boy. Good man.
And…most importantly…hers. All hers.
Epilogue
“I don’t want to accept your resignation.” Eric Wilde glared across the desk, and Julia shifted a bit uncomfortably in her chair. “I wanted to make you a VP. I didn’t want to get this.” He lifted her resignation and waved it at her.
