Protecting His Brother's Bride

by Jan Schliesman

  No, she wasn’t all right. But it didn’t matter, because she’d been granted a second chance to tell Dalton the truth before her life was over.

  “I love you.”

  Chapter 19

  Josh’s grip tightened around her neck, cutting off the rest of her words. And then he was dragging her to the trees surrounding Grandma Alice’s tomb.

  “Josh. Tell me what you want.” Dalton was inching closer. Kira caught his outline skirting a row of pine trees and then dropping behind another headstone.

  “Suddenly you care about my happiness? You’re a decade too late, brother.”

  A decade? What did he mean? She hadn’t even met Josh back then.

  “You’ve been angry with me for ten years? Tell me why.”

  Kira choked as Josh’s arm tightened around her throat even more and then he dropped behind a large oak tree and propped her in front of him to use as a shield.

  “Okay, Dalton, I’ll reminisce with you. But if I see you take one step closer, I’ll shoot darling Kira.”

  “Josh, nobody has to get hurt.”

  “Somebody always gets hurt when you’re around, bro.” Josh’s frigid hand pressed against her cheek. His grip on the gun grew unsteady as his anger escalated. “You never once deemed me as your equal.”

  “Not true and you know it,” Dalton replied.

  “Really? Remind me who took over Buckshot’s.”

  Silence ensued.

  “What’s the matter, Dalton, cat got your tongue?”

  “I was always going to take Dad’s place. You know that.”

  “I could have done the job, but you never gave me a chance.” Josh’s bitterness was boiling over.

  “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “You mean why didn’t I come running to you for a raise in my allowance?” Josh’s self-deprecating laughter scared Kira almost as much as the gun barrel pressed to her cheek. “I figured out a way to get a bigger paycheck, with Kira’s help, of course.”

  “Kira was helping you?”

  “Jeez, Dalton, I can’t remember the last time you showed any interest in my life. But after I stole her Midwest Mutual computer pass codes, it was easy enough to siphon out the data I needed.”

  “Why would you—” Kira couldn’t finish the question because Josh shoved the gun against her chin.

  “If I treated you unfairly, I’m sorry. Tell me what I can do to make it right,” Dalton called.

  “Hmm.” Josh pretended to ponder the idea. “You can’t make this right. It’s too late.”

  “It’s not too late,” he said. “We’re all here. We can fix this together.”

  “Wrong,” Josh yelled. “We aren’t all here. You touched the one thing I loved.”

  After a lengthy pause, Dalton said, “Are you talking about Lauren?”

  “You know I am.”

  “Okay, how did I take Lauren from you?”

  “Playing dumb only makes you sound guiltier, brother.” Josh rested his hand against Kira’s shoulder and she tried not to think about how easily he could kill her. “Those songs were for me, not you. Those emails were about me, not you. You swooped in and took everything that should have been mine.”

  “Should have been yours?” Dalton cleared his throat. “I read Lauren’s diary. You two were having an affair.”

  “I was the one she turned to when you were too busy running your coffee empire to show her any attention,” Josh raged. “I was there and Lauren loved me.”

  “You’re delusional,” Tate interjected. “Did you overdose her when she wanted it to end?”

  He’d been quiet the entire time. Kira had forgotten about his presence. But his voice came from the opposite direction of Dalton’s, and she felt a slight rise in confidence, knowing they were both trying to save her.

  “You don’t understand the connection that we shared. Lauren should have been with me forever. I made her happy. But when she found out about Kira—”

  Kira’s quick intake of breath stopped him from sharing more. What if she’d remained quiet? Would Josh have revealed more of the story?

  “It doesn’t matter.” He waited another heartbeat and then regained his arrogant demeanor. “Aren’t you going to ask me about my lovely bride?”

  “Kira already told me,” Dalton said.

  “It didn’t take her long to jump into your bed, did it?” Josh chuckled in her ear.

  “Stop it,” she hissed, elbowing him.

  His arm tightened across her windpipe and he repositioned the gun to the middle of her spine. “Did she tell you about our son?” Josh asked. “What was his name?”

  Kira’s lips moved, but no sound escaped. The bastard couldn’t even remember their child’s name?

  “Brandon.” Dalton’s steady response gave her strength.

  “Right,” Josh said. “I always hated that name, so sissy sounding. I knew you wouldn’t let him do anything,” he said to Kira. “You made me baby-proof the apartment before he was even born.” Josh scoffed. “You were going to be one of those mothers who wouldn’t let their kid get dirty. Probably dress him in pastel shirts because you really wanted a girl instead.”

  “I wanted a healthy baby. You were the one who had to have a son, even though you refused to get a real job and help support us.” She was getting even angrier thinking about all the extra hours she’d worked to keep them afloat, while he was spending a fortune entertaining Lauren.

  “You trapped me into marriage. Doesn’t mean I ever wanted a kid.”

  “Is that why he’s not buried here, in your family cemetery?” Kira already knew how this was going to end. Josh wasn’t going to surrender. But if she distracted him enough, then Dalton might be safe when the shots were fired. “Answer me.”

  For once, Josh had no quick response.

  “I read Lauren’s diary. She never loved you.” Anger was bubbling in every cell of Kira’s body. “You couldn’t even get her to leave Dalton.”

  “Shut up,” Josh ordered.

  “Go ahead and shoot me!” Kira squirmed against his hold.

  “Kira, Kira, I do prefer this spirited side of you,” Josh whispered against her ear while releasing the safety on his gun.

  “You won’t last a week in prison.” She threw her head against his chin, then jerked sideways, trying to avoid his shot. She screamed as the bullet tore through her flesh.

  Two more gunshots echoed at close range.

  Her body dropped to the ground and her skull thumped against the base of the tree.

  Face buried in the snow, Kira felt her warm blood oozing through her clothing and pooling under her stomach. She wasn’t dead yet. Pain meant life and life meant the possibility of seeing Dalton one last time.

  Then she heard his voice calling to her.

  “Kira! Dammit, Kira, you don’t get to die on me.”

  * * *

  Dalton clutched Kira to his chest and prayed for a miracle. His brother’s lifeless body lay at the base of an ancient oak tree, and A.J. was removing his weapons while Tate checked for a pulse.

  “He’s dead,” Tate confirmed.

  A.J. searched Josh’s pockets and removed several items.

  “Why, Josh? Why did you have to do any of this?” Dalton moaned. What had turned his brother into a soulless bastard? Had Josh done all this to get even with him? Could Dalton have prevented any of it by allowing Josh to suffer the consequences of his actions growing up, instead of letting their mother shelter him? He’d destroyed Kira’s life without any remorse. In fact, he’d sounded proud of what he’d done. Would Dalton ever know the truth about the day Lauren died?

  He raised his head and stared at the sky. “Where is Grayson?”

  Kira’s blood soaked through his shirt, and Da
lton lifted her against his chest and ran for the cemetery gates. She couldn’t die. He wouldn’t allow it. Wouldn’t survive losing someone else he loved.

  The copter climbed over the mountain and settled into the clearing where Grayson had dropped them a few minutes ago. Tate appeared next to Dalton and they raced for the helicopter as if the hounds of hell were fast on their heels.

  Snow blinded them as the copter touched down. Grayson threw open his door and jumped to the ground. He drew back the sliding door and helped lift Kira inside, carefully laying her on blankets he’d spread on the floor of the aircraft. Before long, they were in the air and headed to the closest hospital, in Casper. Tate knelt over her body, doing his best to stop the flow of blood.

  Dalton felt useless. He kissed her forehead and took one of her hands, warming it against his lips. “It can’t end like this.”

  “I’m doing everything I can,” Tate said. “Grayson, I need an outside line to 411.”

  “You got it,” he replied. “I’ve got an ETA of twenty minutes to the hospital.”

  Dalton donned headphones again and listened in as Tate requested the hospital’s phone number and connected with an emergency room doctor. Tate started rattling off a bunch of numbers and relating what tests he needed to have run as soon as they landed. Dalton quickly lost interest and removed his headset.

  “Don’t you dare leave me like this, Kira. You owe me a house and a car. You even took my coat.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “I’m going to wipe the slate clean. Open those beautiful green eyes and tell me again that you love me. Remind me how much you hate coffee.”

  How was she ever going to forgive him? She’d been right about Josh’s erratic behavior and deep-seated cruelty.

  But it didn’t make any sense. What did Josh have to gain by deceiving Kira? Dalton’s last phone conversation with Ethan replayed in his head. They hadn’t found either a birth certificate or a death certificate for Kira’s son. Could Josh have committed such an unspeakable sin? Could he have deceived Kira about their baby and then taken the child somewhere else, to raise him alone? And if so, where was the child now?

  Grayson’s whistle pierced the cacophony of noises filling the copter’s cabin. He gestured to the headphones, then he held up three fingers, signaling a change of frequencies, once Dalton had put them on.

  A.J.’s voice crackled across the connection. “I found a bunch of fake IDs and credit cards in his wallet.”

  “Tell the sheriff,” Dalton said, before he could continue.

  “Dalton, listen to me,” A.J. insisted. “He has several pictures of a small boy.”

  Oh, sweet God in heaven. What had Josh done?

  * * *

  A whirlwind of activity met them at the emergency room entrance and Dalton was eventually separated from Kira. Even Tate, with his massive amount of charm, was refused entrance to the treatment area, and settled for keeping Dalton company while he was examined.

  Tate’s charm worked, however, in acquiring some clean clothing. Dalton paced in the small exam room, sparing an occasional glance at Tate and the clock ticking away the minutes on the wall. He was one tetanus shot away from freedom and it couldn’t happen soon enough.

  “You shouldn’t jump to any conclusions,” Tate warned, as he flipped through a free copy of AARP Magazine.

  “Yeah, I’m sure there are oodles of explanations why A.J. found all those pictures of a little boy in Josh’s billfold.”

  Tate glanced at him over the top of the magazine. “I’m actually more shocked you managed to use the word oodles in a sentence.”

  “Bite me.”

  Nurse Betsy McNeil breezed into the room and all conversation between them ceased. “Mr. Matthews, I am so sorry for the delay. We had a little trouble tracking down all the injections your family doctor said were due.”

  Dalton counted six syringes lined up on the metal tray she set on the counter. Family doctor? He glared at Tate and offered the woman his shoulder.

  “We’ll do two in each arm and two in the bottom.” She smiled as she wiped the alcohol square against his biceps and reached for the first injection. “We normally don’t give all these shots at once, but Dr. Wilson was very insistent.”

  Dr. Wilson was also going to get his ass kicked, sooner rather than later.

  Tate dropped the magazine and eased to his feet. “I’ll wait outside.” He grinned from ear to ear. “All those needles give me the heebie-jeebies.” He faked a shudder and hauled ass before Dalton dropped his pants for shots three and four.

  Nurse Betsy was a chatterbox. The shots took three lifetimes to administer and by then Dalton knew all about her marital status, single. Her education, Peakside Nursing School. And her overwhelming desire to visit New York.

  She also loved Buckshot’s Coffee. Go figure.

  Tate was nowhere in sight when Dalton exited the exam room. Law enforcement officials from at least three agencies were waiting to speak with him, however, along with the attorney he’d called as soon as Kira was taken into surgery. Dalton couldn’t risk saying anything that might get them in more trouble.

  The sheriff of Casper County got in the first round of questioning. Ninety minutes later it was the FBI’s turn to grill him inside out.

  Then Dalton tracked down Nurse Betsy for some painkillers and asked for an update on Kira’s condition.

  “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she confided. “But Mrs. Kincaid has been moved to recovery and downgraded from critical condition.”

  “Do you know her room number?”

  “Not yet. But it will be somewhere on the sixth floor.”

  “Sixth floor?”

  “Yes, our high-security level. There’s a police officer stationed outside her room.” The nurse’s eyebrows rose dramatically. “She’s wanted for murder, you know.”

  Dalton started to protest, but Nurse Betsy cut him off. “Excuse me, hon. I’ve got a patient waiting in exam three.” She hurried away, leaving Dalton alone in the hallway.

  The elevator doors opened and Tate emerged.

  “Where have you been?” Dalton demanded.

  “Hello to you, too, Mr. Personality. How’s your bottom?”

  “Not funny.” He shoved Tate into an adjoining corridor and lowered his voice. “Did you know Kira can’t have any visitors?”

  “She’s fine,” he replied.

  “And how would you know?”

  Tate wisely took a step away from him before responding. “I’ve checked on her and spoken with both her doctors and nursing staff. We’re all on the same page.”

  “No, we aren’t,” Dalton said. “I want to see her.”

  “You can’t do her any good here.”

  “Really? Because I don’t have an MD after my name?” He took a menacing step forward and Tate punched him in the shoulder.

  “Ouch.” Dalton rubbed his arm in annoyance.

  Tate smirked. “Is your butt sore, too?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Planning to pitch a tent in the lobby?”

  “If I have to, then yes.”

  “You need to meet with the board and assure them you are in charge. Plan another funeral and hire Kira some attorneys with clout.” He shrugged. “You can’t do that from here.”

  “There isn’t going to be another funeral.”

  “Does your mother know that?”

  He’d completely forgotten how Josh’s actions would affect the rest of his family. The paparazzi would descend again, like when Lauren died. The very last thing Dalton wanted was for his mother to suffer through another round of invasive questions. She’d be inconsolable and looking to him for support.

  “Grayson is waiting on the roof,” Tate said. “Make him your right hand and get everything squared away in Denver. You need to handle d
amage control.”

  “I can’t leave Kira like this.” Dalton was sickened by the thought of her waking up and finding him gone. She needed him.

  “They won’t let you see her until the charges are dropped. You can help Kira the most by being in Denver.” Tate shrugged. “Let me help, Dalton. I can keep you apprised of her condition. Try making amends for my behavior.”

  Dalton had never witnessed humility in his old friend before, so it took him a moment to accept his offer.

  “All right,” he finally agreed. “Tell her—”

  “Tell her yourself. I’ll call you when she’s ready to talk. Until then, go put out the fires.”

  Chapter 20

  Dalton stormed over to the liquor cabinet in his office. He reached for the closest bottle, dumped some in a glass and swallowed it before repeating the motions. Kira wouldn’t see him. Or they wouldn’t let him see her. He didn’t know what law enforcement agency was keeping them apart today.

  The family had been in the headlines every day with new developments. This could not be happening. But it was. His mind rewound through the past week in fits and starts. Jumbled bits of conversation with law enforcement agencies, attorneys for Kira and himself, and the team of private investigators he’d hired to dig into every element of Josh’s double life.

  After everything his brother had done, Dalton wasn’t certain he’d be capable of forgiving him. And honestly, if he didn’t have a front-row seat to the show, he never would’ve believed Josh was capable of such deception and hate.

  Kira had collected enough documentation to show a possible link to Josh. Then Ethan stepped in and provided the authorities with a road map of sorts, which led straight to Josh and his alter ego, Geoff Griffin.

  A sharp knock sounded at the door and Dalton looked across the room as A.J. entered and slammed the door closed behind him.

  Dalton raised his glass in mock salute. “Well, if it isn’t the famous underwear model posing as a mere mortal.”

  “I need your computer.”

  “What’s wrong with your computer?”

  A.J. stormed to Dalton’s desk and dropped into the chair. A few seconds later he was tapping away at the keyboard.