Worth the Wait

by Lori Foster

  She shook her head, then tried to reason with him. “You know that wasn’t true, Russell.”

  “I know what they said.” He drew a breath, but his eyes remained wild. “I got dragged into the filth with you. We were engaged, and to most people, that made me equally guilty.”

  “There was no guilt.” With a lot of bitterness, she added, “Although you certainly believed the worst, didn’t you? You jumped on the bandwagon so fast, I knew you’d never really cared about me. You couldn’t have.”

  Incredulity carried him forward a step. “Of course I cared. I wanted to marry you. But there was a lot of evidence against you.”

  “No, just some ugly rumors started by a vile man.”

  “You’re right—it was ugly and vile. I’m not stupid enough to be a part of that.”

  Brooklin rubbed her forehead. “So that’s it? Despite everything, despite the truth, you’ve made up your mind?”

  What mind he had, Violet thought, because Brooklin’s ex looked seriously off his rocker.

  “Forget what you thought back then. Forget that you never trusted me.” She held out her hands. “You know the truth now.”

  As if Brooklin hadn’t spoken, Russell said, “I couldn’t stay at the school, of course. Not after all that, not with the taint you left behind.”

  “She didn’t taint anything, you ass. She saved a girl.”

  Russell sent her a dismissive glance. “I didn’t know where to go. What other school would hire a teacher who’d been engaged to you?”

  Violet couldn’t take it. Her temper nearly imploded. “Are you that damned obtuse? She didn’t do anything.”

  He curled his lip. “You don’t know anything about it. She chose them, those damn kids, over me.”

  Brooklin blinked at him. “That’s what you think? Russell, I tried to save that girl! Her father was abusing her. He was a monster. I—”

  “Shut up.” He aimed the gun at her, drew in two deep breaths. “I’ll hear your apology now.”

  Brooklin said, “If that’s what you want, I—”

  Violet grabbed her arm to stop her. She had the awful feeling that as soon as Russell got what he wanted, he’d kill them both. “You don’t owe him anything, Brooklin. He should be apologizing to you.” That made his face florid, and she rushed on, trying to think of anything to keep him talking. “You spent all this effort tracking her down. How did you find her, anyway?”

  Smug, he bragged over the ease of the hunt. “With eyes like hers, she stands out.”

  “True. She has beautiful eyes.”

  Russell nodded, staring as if transfixed at Brooklin. “She does.”

  Disliking that obsessed stare, Violet reclaimed his attention. “But you can’t track a woman by her eyes, right?”

  He blinked, and his expression settled into a frown. “I spent what little money I had left on a private eye. He narrowed down Brooklin’s whereabouts, and then I cut him loose. I didn’t want him still around, wondering what happened to her after she’s...gone.”

  That slight hesitation gave Violet hope. So, the man had gone mad? He hadn’t always been that way or surely Brooklin wouldn’t have been engaged to him. Violet wanted to keep him talking, both to buy herself time to think and to hopefully give him time to rethink this insanity.

  She assumed his current goal was to kill Brooklin, so Violet eased in front of her. She wasn’t the target, and if she could deter him from hurting Brooklin, she would. “You almost ran me down, too. Why kill me? I haven’t done anything to you.”

  He shrugged without regard. “That time on the street, you just happened to be there. Can’t thread the needle with a car. I didn’t particularly want to kill you, but then again, I didn’t care if I did.” He rubbed a hand over a smarmy smile. “You know, I thought that would scare you off. I figured Brooklin would be alone after that. But no, you started hanging out with her more, always in crowds where I couldn’t get to her.”

  Brooklin tried to come out from behind. “So you didn’t care if you got an apology then, did you?” Anger blinded her, and she tried to step in front of Violet.

  Violet didn’t allow it. “You know what I think? We should sit down and talk.”

  “I don’t want to talk,” Russell said. “I do want your apology now, Brooklin. You’ve put me to too much trouble. After all this, your apology is the first thing I’ll have, and then—”

  Violet raised her voice. “It takes no time to make coffee and I have some pie left. Cherry pie. Maybe pecan pie, too, but I’m not sure.”

  Brooklin stilled behind her. Violet could hear her breathing hard and fast.

  Russell stared at her like she was the crazy one.

  But so what? She’d be just as batty as she needed to be to find a way out of this debacle. “What do you think, Russell? What’s your favorite kind of pie?”

  Russell slowly lowered the gun. “I like cream pies.”

  * * *

  Colt couldn’t believe this. He’d never been so divided in his entire life.

  Go after the man himself?

  Or go for his father and Nathan?

  Even as he slipped away into the shadows, moving silently to the back door that he’d locked, it felt wrong to leave the women alone. What if the lunatic snapped and shot one of them before he could get back?

  If he got his dad, he knew exactly what would happen. His father would go after the man and damn the consequences. He would not let Violet get hurt.

  Colt’s throat tightened, and he knew he couldn’t think about that. He’d lost too much. Life was finally the way he wanted it. It couldn’t change again. Not now.

  He could not lose his dad.

  Doing the right thing had never felt so damned difficult.

  It seemed to Colt that the locks made a terrible racket as he opened them, yet no one came bursting in on him. Thank God he hadn’t set the alarms; he didn’t know how to shut them off and the sudden noise could spook the guy and make him react.

  Once outside, Colt took just enough time to prop the door wide-open with a brick. If by some chance Violet or Brooklin got away, they needed a clear way to run.

  Getting up the metal stairs without making any noise was a lesson in strained patience. He wanted to run, but even though they’d been repaired and secured, they still clanged with every footstep. Soon as he eased the door open, his dad looked up.

  And knew.

  Hogan came charging over. “What is it?”

  In a hush, Colt said, “A man came in with a gun.”

  Hogan started to go, but Colt grabbed him. “Violet just offered him coffee and pie.”

  “What?”

  “She’s keeping him talking. The front door is locked.”

  “Where exactly are they?” Nathan asked.

  “The storage area.”

  “Stay with Nathan,” Hogan said, already moving past him in a rush.

  “Damn it, I’m the sheriff!” Nathan growled low, grabbing for Hogan, but he was already out the door. Four steps down, Hogan went cleanly over the side to land in a crouch on the pavement below.

  Cursing low, Nathan said, “Go around front and call 911. Explain everything to dispatch. Stay out of range, okay? Hogan would kill me if you got hurt.” Then he, too, hopped off the side of the stairs.

  Colt put in the call, gave the information he could and followed the men.

  * * *

  His blood pumping with fear and rage, Hogan edged inside the building. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

  From the prep area, he heard the low voices nearby. It sounded like Russell was arguing with Violet about pie. He didn’t want cherry, and she insisted he’d like it.

  Crazy Violet. Don’t push him too hard, honey.

  Nathan touched his arm, and when Hoga
n glanced at him, he showed his own weapon.

  Nathan wanted to shoot the bastard?

  Worked for him.

  Nathan gestured for Hogan to get the man’s attention while he circled around to the other side.

  At least they agreed on protecting the women first and foremost.

  With a nod, Hogan continued his silent movements closer to the storage area. Nathan could stay back, and as soon as Hogan lured the man into sight, Nathan could take aim.

  He inched closer.

  “I don’t want your pie. I don’t want your coffee.” Russell’s voice hardened. “What I want, right now, is her very sincere apology for ruining me.”

  “Did you keep that gun in the pocket of your cargo pants? That’s why you’re wearing them, right? I only ask because you don’t look like a cargo pants type of guy. Khakis maybe. Fitted. With a nice sharp crease.”

  “That’s him,” Brooklin said. “Casual slacks, loafers, a button-up shirt.”

  “So the pants were to carry the weapon?”

  “Yes,” Russell said. “Don’t think you’re so smart, though. It’d be obvious to anyone.”

  “Maybe.” Violet paused. “Where’d you get the gun? Is it registered?”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’m not usually. But then, I’ve never been held at gunpoint, either. It’s unnerving.”

  “Imminent death would unnerve anyone.”

  She jumped on that, saying, “So you do plan to kill us? That doesn’t make any sense, Russell. Why in the world would Brooklin want to apologize to you, just so you can murder her?”

  Hogan finally got in range behind the man. He’d love to rush him, beat him into the ground, but with that gun aimed at Violet and Brooklin, he couldn’t take that chance.

  Instead, he crept closer.

  Unfortunately, Brooklin noticed him—and her eyes widened.

  Russell panicked, but as he swung around, Violet screamed, “No,” and grabbed for his arm.

  Russell snatched her close, bringing her with him, using her like a shield. He crushed her against his chest with an arm locked around her breasts, her feet off the floor, the barrel of that gun pressed to her temple.

  Everything in Hogan’s world narrowed to Violet—and Russell’s finger on that trigger.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Russell wailed, his breath coming hard and fast.

  Violet’s wide eyes stayed locked on Hogan.

  “Let her go,” Hogan said, his tone level and calm, “before I rip your fucking head off.”

  “No, no.” Russell backed farther into the storage area. “I watched you leave.”

  “We didn’t go anywhere.” Nathan stepped out, his own gun aimed. “Lower your weapon now. It’s over.”

  Russell’s gaze darted back and forth between the two men.

  “You won’t make it,” Nathan said. “Even think about it, and I’ll shoot a hole clean through your forehead.”

  “No,” Russell shouted. “She’s not even the one who has to pay! It’s Brooklin I came for.”

  Nathan shook his head. “You can’t have her.”

  Brooklin said, “Yes, he can.” She stepped around him, her hands behind her. “Let her go, Russell, and you and I will leave together. You’ll have me.”

  She stood far too close to the lunatic, Hogan thought. Close enough to be grabbed. Or shot.

  Close enough to push him over the edge.

  “Come over here, Brooklin,” Nathan ordered.

  But she didn’t budge except to move closer to Russell. “Let her go,” she said softly. “I’m right here. I’m the one you want, the one who ruined you. You want to hear me apologize, Russell. You want to make me pay, not her.”

  With a vicious snarl, Russell turned the gun to Brooklin while slinging Violet toward Nathan.

  Everything happened at once.

  Brooklin swung her arm out from behind her back, a large can of green beans in her hand. The blow landed on Russell’s chest. His gun discharged.

  At the same time, Hogan dived on him. They went down hard, tripping over a case of canned goods, hitting the floor with bone-shattering impact.

  Russell wheezed, then cried out as Hogan twisted his wrist until the gun fell from his limp hand. He pounded the miserable bastard, his fist landing heavily again and again. Truthfully, he might have killed him if it hadn’t been for Colt’s voice intruding.

  “Dad, stop. Violet needs you.”

  Nathan’s restraining hands finally registered. Hogan turned Russell loose, signifying that he understood. The bloodied man dropped to the floor with an almost inaudible groan.

  “Dad.”

  The agony in his son’s voice hit like a sledgehammer. Hogan jerked around.

  Colt sat on the floor, Violet leaning against him, blood everywhere, on her arm, on his hands...

  A massive surge of terror slammed into him.

  “She’s okay,” Nathan said fast. “The damn bullet ricocheted and grazed her arm. Do you hear me, Hogan? Colt’s not bleeding. He’s just trying to help.” With that explained, Nathan went to work checking on Russell.

  Hogan’s thundering heart slowed to a more normal beat and the facility to think clicked back in. He was already on his knees beside Violet. “Let me see, Colt.”

  Breathing fast, Colt lifted his shaking hands. Blood oozed from a raw three-inch wound gouged through Violet’s upper arm. “You’re doing good, Colt. Really good,” Hogan told him. “I’ll go grab the first-aid kit. Deep breaths, Violet, okay?”

  She nodded. Her voice was thin with pain when she said, “Will you hit that jerk for me one more time?”

  “I would love to, but he’s out and won’t feel it.”

  “He’ll feel it when he comes around.”

  “True.” God, he loved her attitude, finding a little comfort in it. He ran for the first-aid kit and was back in less than half a minute. He found Colt holding her close, her back supported against his shoulder.

  “Colt?” Hogan infused his voice with reassurance. “She’s all right now, son, okay? Why don’t you go get washed up? I hear sirens. More people are going to be in here any minute now.”

  Shaking his head, Colt shifted, moving Violet enough that Hogan could more easily reach her while still keeping her in his arms. “I’ll wait.”

  He didn’t want to let her go, Hogan realized, and damn, that almost got him. His son had lost too many people.

  He wouldn’t lose Violet.

  Hogan drew a shuddering breath.

  “Guys,” Violet said, that sassy drawl more evident than ever. “I’m seriously okay. I mean, it hurts like hell—I won’t lie about that. But I’m fine.” Then she leaned her head back on Colt. “I love you, Colt. Just so you know.”

  “Damn,” Colt choked out and put his face in her hair.

  Hogan didn’t move. He struggled with his own emotions.

  She said, “Hogan?”

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Remember what I said?”

  As gently as he could, he swabbed away the blood, then pressed a sterile pad to the wound. “You’ve said a lot, Violet.”

  “I asked if we could share a house.”

  Colt’s head jerked up. “You did?”

  “Blurted it right out there,” she said. “I left your poor dad speechless.”

  Hogan concentrated on wrapping her arm without hurting her.

  Colt cradled her protectively. “Well, if I get a vote—”

  And together, Violet and Hogan said, “You always have a vote,” then smiled at each other for that duplicate response.

  “Then I say hell yes.”

  “Do you, now?” Hogan finished wrapping her arm, sat back on his heels and looked at the two of them. His heart
wanted to burst.

  Odd that being here now, with his son shaken and Violet wounded, could somehow seem so right—because they were together.

  Seconds later the diner swarmed with paramedics and officers. Hogan had a hell of a time prying his son off Violet, but he understood the need to stick close. Hell, it was all he could do to let her go so her arm could be properly checked and attended.

  While that happened, he kept Colt right next to him.

  “You did good, Colt. I’m proud of you.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’ve never been so damned scared in my life.”

  “Same here.”

  Colt scrubbed a hand over his face. “I couldn’t decide what to do. Violet means a lot to both of us, and I was afraid that by the time I came to get you, she’d be hurt.”

  Hogan turned his son to face him. “You did the right thing. Please don’t ever put me in the position of losing you.” Hogan drew him in for a tight bear hug. “I can take a lot, son. I can’t take that.”

  Colt squeezed him, then quickly stepped back, drawing deep breaths.

  Knowing they were both on the ragged edge, Hogan gave him a minute to compose himself while watching the confusion around him. Nathan controlled it all, with Brooklin held at his side.

  Once Colt was breathing more normally again, he said, “So you love Violet, too, huh?”

  “Too?” Colt said, and then with a slow grin, “Really? I mean, I knew it, but it’s nice to hear you say it.”

  Making his son happy had never felt so good. “If I can talk her into our house instead of hers, I’m thinking it might be a terrific idea.”

  “She really asked you about it?”

  “Like she said, she blindsided me with it. But it’s a great idea.” Hoping to leverage a little lightheartedness into deadly disturbance, he said, “It’s a good way to save money since we wouldn’t be paying for two houses.”

  Colt shoved him. “Screw that! It’s not about money.”

  Hogan laughed, which surprised him. Just minutes ago, laughter had seemed out of reach. “That was the argument she gave me. But I wouldn’t make a move like that unless I loved her. And I do. Took me a little while to work around everything, you know?”