This time, when she laughed, it sounded more authentic. “It’s amazing you’ve lived this long.”
“So Camden always tells me.” He paused in the doorway, glanced back. There she stood wrapped in a sheet, her hair falling a tangled mess around her shoulders, her glasses slightly askew. His heart squeezed so hard it hurt. “Now go get my phone and some clothes and lock yourself in this room. Tell the cops what’s happening and open the gate when they get here. This will all be over soon.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but hurried out through the bedroom, careful to shut the door behind him. He emerged into the living room as the front door opened, and Pruitt stepped in, followed closely by Burke with the gun still pressed against the colonel’s back.
Kenneth fucking Burke.
Shit, he really hadn’t seen this coming. He’d pegged the guy as a pretentious yuppie but hadn’t thought him capable of stalking and murder.
At least the colonel appeared calm, despite the handcuffs now circling his wrists, a nasty black eye, split lip, and a cut on his forehead.
“Where is she?” Burke demanded. His gaze darted from one corner of the room to the other. “Where is Libby?”
“She’s safe. Tucked away in a place you’ll never find her.” Hands raised in front of him, Jude eased forward.
“Stop!” Burke swung the gun toward him, toward Pruitt, then back to him again. Unsure of who was the bigger threat. Good.
Jude slid another step closer. “You might as well put the gun down. I called the cops. They’ll be here any minute.”
“Then I have to make this fast.” He pressed the gun to Pruitt’s head again. “Take me to Libby.”
“You’re not going to get away.” Another step. “We’ve seen you. We know who you are.”
“So you’ll have to kill each other. There’s so much bad blood between the pair of you, nobody will doubt that. Especially not after I tell them what happened eight years ago. By the time the police are through, they’ll uncover every bit of that nastiness. I’ll tell them I tried to stop you, but Elliot attacked you because he was so enraged that you had your disgusting hands all over his daughter.” His voice lifted to a near screech on the words. Yeah, it wasn’t Pruitt who was pissed off about their relationship. Or at least not at the moment—the colonel would definitely have something to say about it later. Right now, Burke was the threat, and maybe he could use that anger to his advantage.
“If you know about that, then you know I couldn’t care less if you killed the colonel right now.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of movement and prayed it was only the cat. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor.”
Pruitt’s jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed, promising hell to pay later. Jude ignored it.
“Libby will never go with you,” he continued, hoping the lawyer would try something stupid in a fit of rage. “Not after you kill the two men she loves.”
Burke vibrated with fury. “She loves me!”
Shit, that was no cat slinking around the edge of the room.
Cursing inwardly, Jude forced himself not to look at her and caught the colonel’s gaze. If they were going to make a move, it had to be now. Pruitt nodded. He was ready.
They acted simultaneously, like a well-rehearsed dance. Pruitt looped his arms over Burke’s head and pulled the chain of the handcuffs tight across his throat. Jude swept out with a leg and took his knees out with a kick. He sagged, but only for a second. Whatever malfunction in his head made him think that Libby loved him had apparently also immunized him to pain, and the lack of oxygen from the handcuff chain only whipped him into a frenzy.
Jude leaped forward to help contain the guy. An elbow jabbed his ribs. A sneaker glanced off his thigh and dug into the vulnerable spot between his legs. Fuck! Pain shoved his stomach into his throat, and he doubled over.
Burke lifted the gun and fired wildly. The bullet ricocheted off a ceiling fan and splintered the wood. The kickback sent his arm flailing and knocked the colonel off balance. Together they bounced off the back of the couch, crashed into the dining table. Chairs fell, the sturdy table skidded across the tile, and they both slammed into the floor with enough force to stun the breath out of anyone’s lungs. Pruitt went limp for a moment, long enough that Burke squirmed his way out of the fight. He stood, limping, and gun still in hand, raised it to Jude’s head.
Jude threw his weight forward and hit the floor flat on his stomach as the gun fired. Something glass shattered, raining water and shards over his head. A body thumped down beside him, and for one horrible moment, he thought, Libby.
But he opened his eyes and Burke lay next him, unconscious, a stream of blood flowing steadily from a cut in his temple. Libby stepped over Burke and kicked the gun away from his hand.