One Last Kiss by Kat Martin
Chapter Sixteen
Sam raced into the house. The Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol he’d bought years ago waited on the kitchen table. Sam clipped the holster onto his belt, then grabbed his Winchester .30-30 hunting rifle lying on the table beside it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the Dunbars,” Clara said. “You just get our girl back.”
Sam gave a quick nod as he ran for the door. His pulse was pounding. Adrenaline poured through his veins. He waited for the sedan to roll through the gate toward the single lane road leading to the highway. As soon as the car took the first turn out of sight, Sam raced for his truck. Behind him, Clara ran out of the house, heading for Cougar Cabin.
Sam trusted Clara and prayed the Dunbars were safe as he fired the engine on his big black Dodge, put the pickup in gear and drove away.
By now Big John and Kade would be in position. Sam forced himself not to slam his foot on the accelerator and rocket down the road after his quarry. The timing had to be perfect, or one of them could die.
Or Libby could be killed.
His chest constricted. He thought again of calling the sheriff, as he’d considered half a dozen times, but if the police got involved, anything could happen. He trusted Big John and Kade.
And he trusted himself. He would do anything to protect Libby. Even give up his own life.
He hit the button on his cell phone, and Big John picked up. “They’re on their way and I’m right behind them, close as I can get without being spotted. You both in position?”
“We’re ready,” John said. “Kade will be able to see the car before I can. Soon as it rolls around the curve, he’ll take the shot. Keep the line open. I’ll let you know when to move in.”
“Will do.” Sam drove at the speed he figured Vince would be driving, fast, but not so fast he’d lose control on the curvy mountain road.
The spot they had chosen was four miles from the front gate, so it wouldn’t take long for the SUV to get there. Sam maintained his speed, though every cell in his body screamed for him to catch up with Vince and drag Libby out of the car to safety.
Time seemed to crawl. A couple of deer leaped into the road ahead of him, and Sam swerved to miss them. The curve in the road was just ahead.
Sam’s phone came to life. “Kade hit the target. The tired exploded. The driver had to fight the wheel some, but the car is slowing, pulling to a stop. Kade’s on his way down the hill to his secondary position.”
“I’m on my way.” Sam drove the pickup to a stop off the side of the road and opened the door. Tucking the phone into his pocket, he grabbed the rifle and took off into the trees, careful to stay above the road, out of sight, as he moved into position.
So far no sign of the old Ford Fusion. Then he caught a flash of oxidized blue. The car had pulled off the road just as they’d planned.
Sam ducked lower and moved silently closer. Vince was already out of the car, swearing as he rounded the trunk to examine the right rear tire. Max stepped out on the passenger side, leaving Mitchell in the backseat with Libby.
Spotting the shredded tire, Vince swore a foul oath. “Looks like we got a blowout. A bad one.”
Max’s head came up. “You think it could be a trap?”
Sam ducked even lower as Max surveyed the area around the car. Vince followed Max’s gaze. Nothing moved but a few pine branches stirred by the afternoon breeze.
Vince grunted. “This old piece of shit car? Just bad luck, more likely. But get the girl out here just in case.”
Sam silently cursed. Everything never went as planned.
They would have to go to plan B. Which meant waiting for an opening.
Crouched behind a boulder, Sam wedged his rifle into a crevice in the shade where it wouldn’t reflect sunlight and give away his position. He leveled the barrel at Vince, who moved to the rear of the car and opened the trunk.
Deacon Mitchell hauled Libby out of the backseat, his pistol pressed into her ribs, head swiveling one way then the other, on the lookout for a trap.
Big John and Kade held their positions on the other side of the road. Sam sighted down the barrel, but as long as Mitchell held Libby at gunpoint, there was nothing any of them could do.
Vince reached into the trunk, pulled out the spare tire and the jack while Max kept watch.
Vince leaned down to set the jack in place. “Get your ass over here, Max, and help me. We need to get this fixed and get the hell out of here before Bridger has the law breathing down our necks. Get me that lug wrench.”
Sam waited, his gaze fixed on Libby, willing her to know he was there. As if she had heard him, her gaze swung in his direction. Mitchell took a step, Libby kicked back hard, slamming her foot into his knee, then turned to flee.
Sam took the shot, the sound echoing across the road. Mitchell’s gun went flying. He went down and didn’t get up. Libby started running, but Vince grabbed her arm and hauled her back against him, his forearm locked around her neck. Pistol drawn, Max fired toward Sam’s position at the same time another shot rang out. Kade. A scarlet stain appeared on Max’s chest. He swayed and sagged to the ground.
Sam was up and running, taking big leaping strides down the mountain, pistol gripped in his hand.
Vince tightened his hold on Libby. “Stop right where you are!”
Sam came to a sliding halt, his gun leveled at Vince’s head. He itched to pull the trigger, but there was too much risk of hitting Libby. A few feet away, Max lay groaning, wounded but not dead, his pistol well out of reach.
“I can break her neck as easy as snapping a twig,” Vince said. “Take one more step and I’ll do it.”
Sam’s fingers tightened around the trigger. “You hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“You can shoot, but she’ll be dead. I don’t think you’ll take the chance. Where’s your truck?”
Sam looked at Libby. Her face was bone white, her fingers digging into the muscular arm pressing into her windpipe.
“It’s parked around the curve,” Sam said.
“Toss your keys over here.”
Sam fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them in front of Vince, who dragged Libby with him as he reached down to scoop them up. “Now the gun.”
Sam’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to give up his weapon. If Vince got the gun, he could kill them both. His gaze went to Libby. The trust in her eyes made his chest ache. Sam crouched and set the pistol on the pavement, took a steadying breath and backed away. Kade and Big John were still out there. He was trusting his life and Libby’s to his friends.
On the hill, sunlight flashed on the barrel of Kade’s rifle, but he still didn’t have a shot. Sam’s gun lay a few feet in front of Vince, tempting him to pick it up, but reaching for it would make him a target.
Vince hesitated. “Use your boot to ease the pistol closer,” he commanded.
From the corner of his eye, Sam caught movement in the shadows and spotted Big John moving silently up behind Vince. Sam’s shoulders tightened. He took a slow step toward the pistol and eased it toward Vince with the toe of his boot. It was still too far away.
“Closer!” Vince demanded, squeezing until Libby fought for a breath of air. The wind blew Vince’s stringy blond hair against the side of his thick neck.
Hold on, baby,Sam silently pleaded, his gaze fixed on Libby.
Vince screamed as John’s big fist slammed into the back of his neck, breaking several vertebrae and sending the bank robber crashing to the ground. Libby twisted free as Vince hit the pavement, dead before he reached it.
“Sam!” Libby raced toward him. “Sam!” Sam swept her into his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he said, a tremor running through him. “You’re okay. You’re safe, honey. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Libby’s arms tightened around his neck. “I love you, Sam.” She was shaking. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to go back, Sam. I want to stay here with you.”
Love for her washed through him, and emotion clogged his throat. “If you stay, I’m never letting you go.”
“Oh, Sam.” Libby went up on her toes and kissed him, and Sam kissed her back. From a few feet away, Big John stood watching. The look in his onyx eyes said what the big man had known all along.
Libby had found her way home.
