Checkmate

by Kris Norris

  “I gave up blaming you a long time ago. I’ve found a much more rewarding way to seek my retribution.” He trailed his hands up her thighs, turning her to face him. “One you might even find enjoyable.”

  Do you do trust me, completely?

  Dawson, where are you?

  “Do you know why I came after you so soon? After our time together in the cellar, I couldn’t get you off my mind…the feel of your skin beneath my fingers…the scent of your body…the taste. I still remember how it felt to be inside you, even if it was…incomplete. I regretted not taking you when I had the chance.” He skimmed his hands across her chest. “I promised myself I wouldn’t make that mistake again. So how about we make another deal? You give yourself to me, here and now, and I promise not to ask again until after you’ve settled in and had a chance to recover. I’ll even make sure Logan keeps his hands to himself.” He moved his hands beneath her shirt. “What do you say?”

  Kendall could see the lust in his eyes, knowing it’d change to rage if she turned him down. “Okay,” she whispered, wishing there was another way out. “Just remember your promise.”

  “Don’t worry, my dear, I’ll be gentle,” he said, taking her lips in his.

  * * * *

  Dawson and Trace stood amidst the trees, listening. They were ahead of Garrick, on a path just south.

  “Garrick is sending Logan to do a sweep,” said Trace. “That means he’ll be all alone.”

  Dawson tensed. Now was the time to take Logan out of the picture, but that meant leaving Kendall alone with Garrick. And he knew all too well what the man would try to do. He cursed, wishing Mitchell was with him. He looked up at Trace, knowing he had few alternatives. “I’ll follow Logan and see if I get a chance to take him out. You stay here and monitor Garrick.” He stepped forward.

  “Wait, Dawson. Let me go.”

  “I’m the guy with the weapons, remember? You’re only here because I needed someone to help me track them, and Kendall claimed you were the best.”

  Trace smiled. “She said that?”

  “She said you could remember any trail on a map, even if you’d only glanced at it, and that you should’ve been the one to train me. But now I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t think I would’ve lasted five days with you. She was right. You’re impressive.”

  “And that’s why I should go after Logan. I know how he thinks. I can anticipate his moves. This isn’t much different than a race, and I’ve been racing with him for nearly two years.”

  “I can’t risk your life like that, Trace. Kendall isn’t the only one I care about.”

  “Thanks. But I can hold my own with Logan.” Trace held out his hand. “I promise I’ll only take the shot if I’m sure he’ll stay down. I’m no hero, Dawson.”

  “Funny, you sound like one to me.” Dawson reached down and pulled a gun out of his ankle holster. “This goes against everything I believe in.”

  “I know. But Garrick isn’t like anyone else you’ve ever faced. It’s going to take both of us to bring him down.”

  Dawson stared at the gun. “If anything happens to you, Kendall will never forgive me.”

  “Then I’ll be careful.” Trace motioned with his fingers. “The gun, Dawson.”

  “Follow Logan. Don’t shoot unless there’s no chance of you getting hurt.” Dawson held it out, but then pulled it back. “You do know how to work one of these things, right?”

  Trace took the gun, cleared the chamber and cocked it. “I think I’ve got the basics down.”

  “You look far too comfortable with that.”

  “We’ve been hunted for thirty years. Did you think I didn’t prepare? Kendall’s the one who hates guns. She won’t even hold one, not since Garrick tried to shoot her and got me instead.”

  “You mean not since you stepped in front, and took the bullet meant for her. She told me. It’s like you said, you’re no hero.” He nodded at Trace. “I hate this, but good luck. And don’t make me sorry for believing in you.”

  “Don’t let Garrick lay a finger on her.” Trace started up the path. “I’ll meet up with you once I’ve taken care of Logan.” He disappeared.

  Dawson cursed and moved in closer. He needed a clear line at Garrick. He stopped behind a large boulder, watching as Garrick pinned Kendall against a tree. She looked scared, and it was obvious she was trying not to cry.

  He raised his gun, lining Garrick up in his sights. “Dammit!” If Garrick moved, even an inch, he’d hit Kendall. He waited, hoping Garrick would shift, hating every moment he spent watching Garrick touch her. And while the bastard hadn’t done anything other than kiss her, just the thought of another man’s hands on his woman boiled his blood. Kendall belonged to him. Period.

  Dawson bit back another curse, his patience waning. Fuck the risks. Garrick was going down. He shifted around the tree, gauging his best shot, when the report of a gun echoed through the forest. He drew back, scanning the path when another round sounded in the distance.

  Dawson heard Garrick curse. He looked back in time to see the man cinch his fingers around Kendall’s arm and drag her down the trail. Dawson mouthed Trace’s name, hoping he’d made the right decision, as he waded through the underbrush and followed them through the forest.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Garrick pulled Kendall along the path, his grip bruising her wrist. “Come on Kendall, keep up!”

  “I’m trying,” she protested, stumbling along behind him. “It’s hard to run when you can’t focus on anything farther than two feet away!”

  “Would you rather I hit you again, so you can’t run at all?”

  “Go ahead. I doubt you’ll travel any faster carrying me.” She slipped on the ground, catching herself on Garrick’s arm.

  More shots.

  Garrick stopped. “It would appear Dawson’s not quite ready to give you up. I didn’t think he’d be so easy to get rid of. But I’m afraid this time won’t end the way he’s hoping.” He looked into her eyes. “Are you going to follow, or do I kill you here?”

  Kendall saw the fire in his eyes. He wasn’t bluffing. “I told you I’d go with you as long as you didn’t hurt anyone else. I’ll keep that promise. I just don’t think you realize how bad my head hurts. It feels even worse than in the cellar. I’m finding it hard to stay awake.”

  “You’ve got another concussion. But passing out on me isn’t going to help your cause any. If I can’t have you, no one will. There’s a river up ahead. I can’t carry you across it. If you lose your balance, you’ll be dragged downstream. I suggest you bring your game up a notch.”

  His voice was harsh, and she could see the indifference in his expression. “I’d rather not drown. I’ll do better.”

  “Good.”

  He started back down the trail, moving faster. Kendall could hear the river up ahead, its raging waters crashing against the rocks. “You’ve got to be kidding?” she said, staring at the white water as it came into view.

  “Change your mind?” he asked, removing a knife from his belt.

  “No.” The scar on her back tingled as she remembered the last time he’d wielded a knife for her. She stepped into the river. It was cold and strong, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to fight against it. She took three more steps, grabbing at a large stone, only to recoil when she saw the edge covered with blood.

  “Don’t stop, Kendall!” he shouted behind her.

  She looked downstream, tensing when she saw Trace’s sweater on the log. “No!”

  “What?” Garrick followed her gaze. “Isn’t that the shirt Trace was wearing when he left with Dawson this morning?” He smiled. “Looks like Dawson wasn’t alone, though I suspect he is now.” He nudged her forward with the knife. “Keep going, or you’ll join Trace.”

  “Please, Garrick.” She started to cry.

  “I don’t want to kill you, Kendall, but you know I’m serious. Now cross the river or die.”

  Kendall nodded, feeling Garrick’s knife tight against her back.
She moved ahead, using all her strength to battle the current. She slipped once, but managed to wedge her foot against a stone before she fell.

  Garrick grabbed her arm. “Don’t do my job for me.” He pulled her up, shoving her forward again.

  She clawed at the rocks, finally bridging the far bank. Her clothes were soaked, and her feet were numb.

  Garrick stepped up behind her. “Stop crying, Kendall. It’s better this way. Now Trace won’t have to mourn your loss. You should be happy he doesn’t have to live with the memory.” He took her arm. “I heard the helicopter land just ahead. Let’s go.”

  Kendall trudged forward, Garrick’s knife glimmering in the light. She could feel the cold metal hilt through her shirt. “You don’t need the knife.”

  “That’s in case lover boy shows up. I’ve always felt a blade is more effective than a bullet. Somehow holding a gun to your head isn’t as graphic as slicing you with a knife.”

  “So you’ll kill me if Dawson’s waiting for us?”

  “I’ll try to convince him otherwise, but that’s a possibility. Are you scared?”

  “Not anymore.”

  * * * *

  “I think that’s far enough,” said Dawson

  Garrick spun around with Kendall shackled against his chest, the helicopter idling in the background. “Ah, Dawson. Here I’d almost thought you weren’t going to show up. But, once again you’ve proven to be quite the adversary. I’d hoped Logan had taken care of you after he finished off Trace, but it seems I overestimated his abilities.” He moved the knife to Kendall’s throat. “It would appear we’re in the same predicament as we were in the cellar. Only this time you know I’ll kill her.”

  “But if you kill her, there’s no reason for me not to kill you.” Dawson squeezed the grip of his gun.

  “Perhaps not. But we both know you’ll be the one who suffers, not me. I’ll be dead, and you’ll be left to live with the guilt because you let the woman you loved down. I’m sure you promised to protect her from me. A promise you haven’t been able to keep. Do you really want her to die believing you failed her?”

  “I’d rather have her believe that than spend a lifetime living a nightmare with you.”

  “I can assure you she’ll be well taken care of. After all, I do love her.”

  “Men don’t chain the woman they love to the wall. What you feel isn’t love.”

  “Don’t be so quick to judge. You don’t know me as well as you think. How do you know she wouldn’t enjoy being chained? Perhaps she likes a man who isn’t afraid to take control. Her mother certainly did.” He tightened his grip and shifted the knife lower. “Now make your choice. Step aside, or watch her die.”

  Dawson watched as Garrick drew a small slice across Kendall’s collarbone. Kendall flinched and whimpered, but remained frozen in his arms. Dawson lowered his gun. “I’ll hunt you. There’s no where you can hide that I won’t find you.”

  “Then I’ll look forward to our next encounter.” Garrick shuffled back toward the helicopter. “I’ll be sure to let Kendall know you’ll be seeing her again. I’m afraid she’s not quite herself right now.” He opened the door and stepped inside, pulling her into the machine.

  Dawson saw Kendall collapse on the floor, her head dipping below the window. He clenched his jaw, praying everything would go according to plan as Garrick stared at him through the thin bubble. Dawson held his ground, noting the exchange between Garrick and the pilot before a shot echoed through the clearing.

  Dawson lunged at the door and ripped it open, pulling Garrick from the craft. There was a bullet wound to the man’s shoulder, his blood splattered across the window. Dawson threw Garrick to the ground, punching him twice in the jaw.

  “Kill him,” demanded Trace, jumping out of the cockpit. “Or I will.”

  Dawson looked back at Garrick. His hands wrapped around the man’s throat, Garrick’s eyes bulged wide as he strangled the life out of him. He cursed. “No.” He jammed one of Garrick’s darts into his neck, smiling as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head. “We still need him.”

  “For what?” demanded Trace.

  “Bait.” Dawson released his grip and jumped in the helicopter. “Kendall?” He lifted her into in his arms. She looked even worse than in the cellar. “Oh God, Kendall. Are you okay?”

  “What took you so long?” she whispered.

  “I wanted it to be dramatic,” he teased, caressing her face.

  She tried to smile, but started crying instead.

  “It’s okay, Kendall. It’s over.”

  “But Trace, the river…blood.” She grabbed Dawson’s shirt, burying her head in his shoulder as she weep in his arms. “I saw his sweater.”

  “Thanks for worrying, sis, but I’m fine.” Trace removed the helmet, stepping over to the door. “See, all in one piece.”

  Kendall pulled back, staring at Trace, her eyes rounded in shock. “What?”

  “When Garrick sent Logan to do a sweep of the area, I followed him and tried to take him out with a shot to his chest. I guess I’m not as good as I thought. The bullet only hit Logan in the shoulder. So I led him to the river and used my sweater to make him think I’d been washed downstream. You should have seen his face when I popped out of the water and flipped him into the current.” Trace chuckled. “I sent the bastard on one hell of a ride. Bet he’s halfway down the damn mountain by now.”

  He reached out, touching her shoulder. “Sorry, sis. Some of his blood must have splattered on the rock during the exchange. I didn’t think about you seeing it, or my sweater, and assuming I was dead.”

  Kendall shook her head, sinking into Dawson’s embrace. She looked confused and he could feel her body going limp again.

  “On no, darling,” said Dawson. “Don’t fall asleep on me.” He brushed a kiss across her head. “Come on, Kendall, You need to stay awake. You’ve got another concussion.” He traced the line down her face. “That bastard.”

  “It wasn’t Garrick. It was Logan,” she mumbled. “But you know that.”

  “I’m so sorry.” He fought back the tears. “I didn’t think he’d hurt you like this. I never would’ve left you if I’d thought he’d do this to you, darling. I swear to you. If Trace hadn’t taken him out… I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, my love.” She touched his face. “When did you find out about Logan?”

  “That morning I went to see Charlie. I knew your mother had Garrick’s child, but I wasn’t sure it was Logan until he showed up at the cabin. It could’ve just as easily been Jody, or both of them working together.”

  “You should’ve told me…about your plan too.”

  “You never would’ve gone along with it. You were too headstrong about giving yourself to Garrick. Besides, this way you didn’t have to lie to him. You can be mad at me later. Right now we need to get you to a hospital. A second concussion this soon is dangerous.” He placed her one of the seats. “Can you balance for a few minutes?”

  “No, but I will.”

  Dawson jumped out of the helicopter and grabbed Garrick’s limp body. He looked up at Trace. “Go get the pilot. Convince him to fly us back to the cabin. We’ll pick up Mitchell and head to the nearest hospital.”

  Trace smiled, holding up his gun. “I think I can persuade him.” He stepped back, staring down at Garrick.

  “Trust me, Trace, we still need him. Besides, you don’t need to live with that kind of baggage.”

  “There wouldn’t be any baggage, Dawson. The man doesn’t deserve to live.”

  “No. But you do, and without the guilt.”

  Trace glanced over at him. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “That’s another story. Now go get the pilot, and please hurry. Kendall really needs to get her head examined.”

  “Yeah, and for more than just the bump.” Trace grinned at him as he bounded off to the trees, his gun still in his hand.

  * * * *

  “I got here as quick as I could.” Director Wel
ls blew into the trauma room, his long gray overcoat floating out behind him. “What’s the status?”

  Dawson shook the man’s hand. “Garrick’s still in surgery. He lost a lot of blood. They said it’d be touch and go.”

  “What about Trace?”

  “He’s in recovery. They treated him for mild hypothermia. He’ll be fine, but the doctor did mention he’ll need to stay for a few days, until they’re sure he doesn’t have any lasting side effects due to his previous injuries.”

  “That’s good news,” sighed Wells, though his expression wasn’t one of relief. He was fidgety, and Dawson sensed there was something anxious about the man’s disposition. Wells turned and smiled at him. “And Kendall? How is she?”

  Dawson sighed and shook his head. “She’s going to need some extra time to recover. She’s up in x-ray. They need to know how bad Logan hurt her. I’ve asked them to get me as soon as she gets back down.”

  Wells patted Dawson on the shoulder, releasing a long breath. “I still can’t believe it. How did we miss Logan’s involvement? I looked at those background checks myself. Nothing suggested he had any connections to Garrick.”

  “Garrick had thirty years of practice. He was good at hiding what he didn’t want found.”

  “Well, at least it’s finally over.” Wells paced across the floor. “I’ll have extra units brought in until Garrick’s safe to move. Then we’ll set him up in a high security hospital.”

  “About bloody time.” Dawson joined the man by the door. “I hope you don’t mind, Sir, but I sent a crew out to scour the river. I’d feel better if we found Logan’s body, one way or the other.”

  “Of course, Dawson. It was a good move. But I looked at the satellite images of the area. There’s nothing but dense forest for miles. Even if he did manage to survive the ride down the rapids, there’s little chance he’d make it to civilization.”