Carlisle paced a circle around Nate, wagging his pistol the whole time. “I don’t know what the hell kind of bargain you think you’re making with Simone, but she’s no less a whore than the rest of them.”
“Stop calling my wife a whore, Sir.” Nate’s lower lip started to tremble.
“They’re all whores, son. Even your mother tried to leave me back in the day. And you know how I turned that situation around don’t you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Well, I sure as shit didn’t say sorry for putting my dick where I wanted. I sure as shit didn’t give her any apology jewelry, now did I?”
“No, Sir.”
“I gave her a boot in her face and held a knife to her throat and fucked the fight out of her. It only took the one time to get your mother to fall in line, and I didn’t have to kill a single slut to do it. You, on the other hand, son, have killed two whores and your wife is anything but under control.”
Carlisle aimed his gun at Simone. “Could you cover me please, son? Point your pistol at the blond hellcat, while I take care of your wife for you. It’s too late to train Simone now.”
Nate pointed his gun at Anna.
She looked at Nate and stopped breathing. But not from fear. This time it was hope that took her breath away.
Charlie.
She saw his face pressed to the sliding glass door, and then he was gone.
Nate narrowed his eyes at Anna suspiciously, and she quickly dropped her gaze.
Nate turned his head toward his father, and she took the chance to look back at the glass.
She hadn’t imagined it. Charlie was at the patio door, and this time he was miming rock-the-baby and pretending to lead a marching band—or something like that. She didn’t know precisely what he was up to, but she nodded her support anyway . Her heart grew lighter and stronger at the same time. They’d already beaten Boots at his own game once tonight, surely they could do it again.
Boots went back to bickering with Nate, and Bobby whimpered for his freedom. With a distracted sigh, Nate finally let Bobby down to crawl.
“You never were too bright, son. So let me spell this out for you. Your wife knows you killed two women, and worse—now two people, three counting you, know I helped you cover that up. Thanks to your pansy-ass need to confess everything for no good reason at all, except your wife asked you about the jewelry, you’ve put us both in jeopardy. I risked my hide tailing Anna and Drex to the library.”
“I never asked you to hurt them.”
“I couldn’t take a chance on what they knew, boy. You don’t seem to understand it’s my freedom at stake too. I’m afraid you’ve left me no choice in the matter of what I have to do next.”
“Please don’t hurt my wife, Sir.”
“You really believe she loves you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And you really want to take her home and give things another try?”
“Yes, Sir. I do, Sir.”
“Then you’re even dumber than I thought.” Carlisle lifted his arm.
Crack!
A muzzle flashed.
She heard a soft cry from Simone.
Scarlet bloomed onto the front of Nate’s white T-shirt.
“Dad?” Nate folded to the ground.
“You stupid son of a bitch.” Carlisle sidestepped to where his wailing grandson crawled in a pool of Nate’s blood. He bent and patted Bobby on the top of the head. “Let’s hope I do a better job raising you, cowpoke.”
And that’s when the patio chair came crashing through the sliding glass door.
CHARLIE DID THE DISAPPEARING head-bob thing again, and this time, luck was with him. Anna noticed him and flared her eyes at him. In his mind, the biggest obstacle to staging a rescue was not the fact that the men had two guns. It was the fact that they had Bobby. He didn’t want to initiate a fight without getting Bobby into some safer place than the crest of Nate’s hip. He was clear on step one, even if he had no clue what would be step two.
Step one—get the baby away from Nate.
Charlie had never been good at charades, but he was pretty sure rocking his arms meant baby. He darted in front of the glass door, made a rock-the-baby motion with his arms and darted back behind the side of the house.
One.
Two.
Three.
He jumped back to the patio, rocked the baby, and this time he brought his knees up in an exaggerated tiptoe. Anna slid her chin down and then back up. That was a nod—he hoped.
He darted behind the cover of the bricks once more. He’d been miming a complex message to Anna: I’m going to sneak around and come in the front door. Be prepared to grab the baby and run.
Anna had nodded at him, as if she’d understood. Maybe Anna had deciphered his code, or maybe she’d simply been planning to grab Bobby at her first opportunity all along. Either way, now was the time to get back to the front and sneak inside.
He drew in a deep breath and started his silent trek around the side of the house. But he didn’t make it three feet before a thunderous crack reverberated through the bricks, nearly deafening him.