An odd feeling zapped through her, like a blast of frigid air, and in that very second, she knew what she had to do. Years of training took over. Her movements became robotic, as though she were watching somebody else take action.
Marshall’s gun was just outside the door. She scrambled to it, clutched her fingers around the weapon, stood up, and fired a few shots out the window.
With Marshall screaming at her to run, she raced to the next booth along and dove inside.
Her knees hit the concrete, and rocks and glass tore her skin to shreds, but she didn’t falter. Ducking beneath the cover of the front wall, she raised the weapon and peered just high enough to see and pulled the trigger.
The car’s side window exploded in a million pieces, and a nanosecond later, Noah howled. She fired twice more, then, hoping he was distracted enough, she dashed from that shelter to the next booth. Ducking for cover inside, she again peered over the countertop. But Noah was impossible to see. She raised the weapon and fired another couple of shots, punching holes in the windshield and the passenger door.
“Jesus Christ!” Noah bellowed.
Charlene raced out the door again, but this time, rather than run for cover, she held the gun directly ahead with her uninjured arm and ran straight at the car. She’d never felt so exposed in her whole life. Rage filled every vein in her body, and as it built to the bursting point, she used Marshall’s agonizing groans to drive her determination. Her fingers squeezed the trigger over and over as she ran faster than she’d ever run in her life.
Two more bullets slammed into the windshield, and the rear passenger window shattered. One of the headlights exploded, as did a front tire.
The car was closer than she’d anticipated, and within seconds of leaving the booth, she dove for cover at the front fender and rolled to a crouching position with the gun aimed and ready to shoot. Her heart slammed into her throat as she tried to calm her ragged breathing and listen for signs of Noah. Her forearm screamed in agony, blood pouring from the burning bullet wound. She sucked in a huge breath, and using that pain, she moved again.
Crouching down, she inched along the passenger side beneath the window, and with her hand on the gun and her finger on the trigger, she stood.
Noah was right there, head between his knees, a bloodied hand pressed against his temple.
She aimed the barrel at the back of her father’s head. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t shoot.” He held his hands out, and she spied his trembling fingers. The rank odor of his sweat dominated his sickly cologne.
“Give me the gun. By the handle. Do it steady, or I’ll shoot you again.”
He reached between his legs, and when his right elbow drew back, a gun was between two fingers. “Toss it out.”
The gun clattered to the asphalt, and she kicked it across the parking lot.
Charlene stepped aside and yanked the door open. “Get out.”
“Don’t shoot.” Half his ear was missing, and a bloody gash carved a gruesome line through his silver hair.
“Get out!”
He turned in the seat, placed his feet on the ground, and held his hands above his head as he stood.
Her heart froze at the evil standing before her.
Charlene had been waiting for this moment for a very long time.
She clenched her jaw and fought the urge to put a bullet into his belly as she studied his icy-blue eyes…searching for something recognizable. Something to link him to her as her father. But there was nothing. Nothing but evil behind those eyes. It didn’t matter if she had the same DNA as this monster, she refused to admit she was related. “Get on the ground.”
Noah groaned as he lowered to the asphalt. He sat with his legs out before him and glared up at her. “What do you want?”
Charlene squeezed her fingers around the gun and took a step closer. She intended to look right into the bastard’s eyes when she asked her next question. “Why did you kill my mother?”
An evil grin formed on his lips. “Because I could.” He said it with a cocky, you-can’t-touch-me attitude, and a sick cackle rumbled from Noah’s lips as he began laughing.
It was all true. Noah was a monster.
Charlene aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger.
A shrill scream burst from his throat as he tumbled sideways, clutching his knee. Blood squirted through his fingers, his face flushed red, the veins on his temple bulged blue. He howled in agony before he turned to her, his eyes glaring with hate. “You fucking bitch.”
Charlene stepped forward and placed the barrel of the gun against his temple. Every ounce of her being wanted to kill him. Her hands trembled. Every muscle in her body was on a knife edge.
“Steady, Charlene. Give me the gun.” She glanced sideways to see Marshall standing at her side. He glided his fingers down her arm and pried the weapon from her hand. It came away easier than she thought it would.
Noah groaned as he sat up and tilted his head at Marshall. “Thank you.”
Charlene took a step forward and kneed him in the head. Noah tumbled over in a whimpering mess.
Satisfied he wouldn’t get up again, she turned back to Marshall, and the look of pride on his face had her heart swelling.
The sound of a car had them both turning to look at the approaching police cruiser.
Marshall huffed. “Now he arrives.”
Charlene glared down at Noah with triumph coursing through her veins. “Looks like you’re finally out of luck. Asshole.”
Chapter 31
Charlene watched the news from the hospital chair for the third time that night. It was amazing how much information they added to the story with each broadcast. When they interviewed the Cuban coroner, she chuckled at the man’s proud grin. After he’d found that severed finger in Benita’s throat, he’d kept it in the jar for over twenty-years.
Apparently, he’d always known the owner of that finger would one day be found. After that scene, the news flicked to a photo of Noah: the hand with the missing finger was circled.
The footage of Noah’s pained face as he was lifted onto the ambulance stretcher was her favorite part of the segment. According to the reporter, Noah was now out of surgery and being kept under police guard. Thankfully, he was in a different hospital from where she and Marshall had been taken.
Once the segment shifted to something less sensational, Charlene stood to turn down the volume. When she turned back to the bed, Marshall had his eyes open. She stepped to his side and placed her hand on his arm. “Hey, you’re awake.”
“Hey.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.” He swallowed and smacked his lips together.
Charlene held a cup of water with a straw toward him, and after he drank a few gulps, she leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “You’re missing all the action.”
“Hmm, what did I miss?”
She wove her fingers into his and kissed the back of his hand. “I’ve missed you.”
A smile curled on his lips. “How long have I been out?”
“Most of the day. They tell me the operation went well, and you should have the full use of your arm again once you recover.”
“What about you?” His eyes fell on her bandaged arm.
“It was just a graze. I’ll be fine.” Compared to Marshall’s wounds, she’d gotten lucky. All she needed was a dozen or so stitches, Marshall had required surgery to both his shoulder and his bicep.
He huffed. “It wasn’t just a graze. I saw it.” A frown corrugated his brow, and he shook his head. “Can’t believe he got me.”
“Yeah, well, I got him back.”
Marshall grinned. “You were amazing. I’m glad you didn’t kill him, though.”
She nodded. “I thought about it.”
“I could tell. What stopped you?”
She thought about that moment when Noah’s life was in her hands. If she’d pulled the trigger, she would have become a monster too, just like him. She wanted to be nothing like him. Ever. “He needs to suffer. Death would be too easy.”
“I bet he’s wishing you did kill him.”
“Possibly.”
“Have you spoken to Detective Chapel?”
“Yes. He’s viewed our video, and he spoke to Alejandro Castillo. The news has been featuring the Cuban coroner holding his jar with Noah’s finger floating inside. He looks like one happy man.”
“I bet he is.” Marshall chuckled and then groaned in pain.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. So, what about Montgomery?”
“Noah’s facing a series of charges, including rape, attempted murder, and first-degree murder. He’s all over the news. Do you want to watch?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’ve seen enough of that asshole.”
Charlene chuckled. “Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
Despite the trauma he’d been through, his masculinity shone through. Marshall was all man, and it broke her heart that Noah had brought him to his knees. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his. It was just a brief kiss, but a lovely tingling heat permeated her body as she marveled at how perfect it felt. “Stay here.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alrighty.”
“You missed dinner. But I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks, babe.”
Babe. Charlene was riding a wave of delight as she drifted out the door. At the nurses’ station, she informed them that Marshall was awake, and they promised to look in on him. But they couldn’t help her with food and suggested she try the vending machine on the lower level.
She made her way down the stairs and found not just one, but seven vending machines lining the length of one wall. She moved from one to the next, studying the options.
“Hello, Claudia.”
Charlene spun to the voice and froze. The woman in front of her was Peter’s murderer. She gasped and started to run, but the woman clutched her arm. “Please, wait. I want to tell you everything. Please, I won’t harm you.”
Charlene contemplated screaming. She also contemplated ramming her fist into the woman’s throat. But the look in the woman’s eyes stopped her. It wasn’t the tears that pooled in her eyes. Nor her look of utter despair. It was that her eyes looked exactly like her own.
“I am so sorry for what happened to Pueblo. I never meant to hurt him.”
“Who are you?” Charlene snapped her arm back.
“My name is Juaneta Álvarez. I am your mother’s sister.”
Charlene raised her eyebrows. So far, meeting her family had proved deadly.
“Please, can we sit?” Juaneta stepped back, her arms wide in a peace offering.
Charlene indicated a pair of chairs in the corner. Juaneta sat first, and Charlene eased into the seat at her side.
The woman was clearly distraught. Her bloodshot eyes were so red they looked to be bleeding, and her top lip quivered, along with her hands.
Charlene didn’t fear her, not now. Not when the woman looked ready to crumble into a heap. She waited out the silence, and it was a few heartbeats before Juaneta cleared her throat and heaved out a sigh. “I am sorry. Pueblo was a good man and did not deserve what I do to him.”
“Why did you do it?”
She lowered her eyes, and her chin dimpled. “I…I…I thought he killed my sister.”
Charlene shook her head. “He didn’t. It was Noah Montgomery.”
“I know. I saw it on news. All these years I blame Pueblo, but I was wrong.” Juaneta shook her head, and a sob burst from her throat. “I didn’t mean to stab him. It just happen. I try to find him for many, many years. And one day he just there.” She looked up. “With you.” Her shoulders heaved back and forward. “I sorry. I sorry”
Charlene adjusted on her seat to be closer and touched the woman’s shoulder. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she gazed into Charlene’s eyes. “No, but I should have known. Pueblo loved Benita. He loved you. He thought you were his daughter.”
And with those beautiful words, a sense of understanding washed over Charlene. Peter was a good man. She knew he was. Despite everything she now knew, she would forever think of Peter as her father. She reached over and placed her hand on Juaneta’s trembling knee. “Thank you.”
Juaneta’s eyebrows drilled together, and she blinked at Charlene. “What for?”
“For coming here to tell me. I know it wasn’t easy.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what to do.”
Charlene frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I should tell police.”
“No. Please, don’t do that. You didn’t mean it. I want you to pretend it never happened.”
“But I scared police will find me.”
“Pfft. Trust me, the police have no clues about who you are.” Charlene was now truly grateful that Chapel didn’t have any video footage of Peter’s death.
Juaneta stared at her, her chin quivering, tears pooling in her eyes. “Thank you.” She burst into a sob, and Charlene wrapped her aunt in her arms. They squeezed each other, crying twenty-two years’ worth of tears.
Juaneta had suffered years of torment over her sister’s death. And her extreme guilt over her murder of Peter was enough punishment. Charlene leaned back and took Juaneta’s hands within her own. “Trust me, Juaneta, you will not be arrested. And if you are, I will deny that you are the woman who stabbed him.”
She blinked a few times. “Really? You would do that…for me?”
“Yes. Yes, I would.”
Juaneta opened her arms and pulled Charlene into another hug. For the first time in decades, Charlene felt the loving embrace of a true relative. Tears tumbled down her cheeks as she squeezed the tiny woman to her chest.
Chapter 32
Charlene woke in Marshall’s arms. She was still on her side, curled into the crook of his arm, and it seemed she’d barely moved all night. The steady beat of his heart was as wonderful as the warmth of his flesh on her cheek. Her mind danced around the delightful notion that she’d found her home, and she didn’t mean the walls around her. She meant the man at her side.
Every time he looked at her, he took her breath away with his intense gaze and the desire in his eyes. When he kissed her, he seized every wrong in her world and made it right. And when he wrapped his arms around her, she knew that no matter what happened, it would still be okay.
Her heart fluttered with love for this incredible man.
He stirred, and she used the opportunity to slip out of bed to go to the bathroom. When she returned, he was up, and she followed the scent of coffee coming from the kitchen. “Morning.”
He turned and smiled. “Hey, did you sleep okay?”
She returned the grin and nodded. “I think it was the best sleep I’ve had in years. Maybe ever.”
He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “Me too.”
She trailed her finger over the bandage covering the bullet wound in his shoulder. “How is it?”
He shrugged. “My pride hurts worse.”
“Oh, stop it.” She slapped his chest. “You’re just jealous I got to shoot him.”
“Damn straight I am. He deserved worse.” He poured boiling coffee into two mugs.
“He’ll get much worse in jail. They say he’ll get twenty years.”
“If he lasts that long.”
“Hmm. Anyway, enough talk about him. Let’s talk about us.” She wriggled her eyebrows.
“Us?”
“Yes. You, me, and Hoppa.”
Marshall growled. “The mutt doesn’t form part of us.”
With a cheeky grin, Charlene grabbed the two steaming coffee cups and headed toward the front door.
“You’re impossible, woman.” He lightly slapped her bottom before opening the front door.
Hoppa came bounding to her side, and despite missing a back leg, he still managed to waggle his butt like crazy.
“In a minute.” She smiled at the dog and inhaled the delightful ocean breeze as she slipped into the bench seat on the veranda.
Marshall sat beside her, and she handed him a mug.
Clutching her cup to her chest, she leaned forward and tried to give Hoppa a scratch behind the ears, but the dog was so excited, he spun around and flipped his body from side to side.
“Settle down, boy.” As if he knew what she’d said, Hoppa spun around twice and then curled up at her feet.
The sun pierced a few clouds on the horizon, coloring them gold and orange, and the ocean was only just beginning to turn from black to blue. “I could look at this view all day.”
Marshall groaned. “Are you sure?”
She turned to him, frowning. “What does that mean?”
He cocked his head. “From what you’ve told me, you don’t like to stay too long in one place.”
She tugged her lips into her mouth, trying to hold back a smile that wanted to burst from her lips. “Would you like me to stay?”
He swept his hand toward the view and grinned. “If you could handle the pressure.”
She took his mug from him, placed both cups on the floor, then climbed up to straddle his lap. Gently curling her hands over his shoulders, she drove her fingers through his hair. A lovely sigh of contentment whispered off her tongue. “I would love to stay.”
He guided his hands around her back and touched his lips to hers, and she melted into his embrace. His kiss was gentle on her lips but brutal on her heart, and as their tongues met in a delicious dance, Charlene knew she’d found the man of her dreams.
When he pulled back, she fell into his vast, emerald-green eyes. “I love you.”
He reached up to cup her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. “I love you too.”
Out of Luck Page 28
