Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1) (37 page)

BOOK: Her Own Best Enemy (The Remnants, Book 1)
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Colby’s demeanor iced Grace’s veins. His body had all the symptoms of withdrawal, and his eyes held a wild glaze that convinced her all the drugs he’d been subjected to over the years had made Swiss cheese of his brain. She shot Keith a warning look.

Be careful.

Keith nodded, but even he appeared fatigued and a bit dazed. She ran her gaze over him to see if he was okay. He stiffened under her watchful eye and shifted in Colby’s direction.

Colby twitched and his finger grazed the trigger of his gun. “I heard Victor on the phone. Making plans to disappear to Rio. Making arrangements to stop all my future care.” Hurt etched itself in the grooves around Colby’s mouth. “He paid for that.”

Keith lunged for Colby and knocked the gun out of his hand. Colby grunted and fell to the ground, taking Keith with him. They rolled across the grimy floor and as Grace struggled to determine who was winning the fight, Colby threw a wild punch that caught Keith in the jaw. Staggering to his feet, Colby ran unevenly to the back door, his braces clashing against one another. Keith wasted no time and sprinted after him.

Grace tried to loosen the rope around her hands one last time but it wouldn’t budge.

“Wait! Untie me,” Grace said before Elizabeth could slink past the fireplace and out the front door.

Elizabeth froze. “I love Colby. He promised we’re going to be together after this.”

“I don’t care.” Grace looked her square in the eye. “I really don’t. I just need you to untie me.”

Elizabeth hesitated.

“Look, if you don’t untie me right now, I’m seriously going to kick your ass as soon as I can free myself. Got it?”

Biting her lip, Elizabeth strode to the back of the chair. She worked the tight knot free and Grace’s hands fell to her side. Blood flooded into her fingers, painfully erasing the numbness in her hands.

Her gaze darted around the room and landed on Colby’s gun. He’d left it lying on the floor when he’d run outside.

“What good will it do to kill me? It won’t make you rich. You can’t have those years back.” Keith shouted from the deck.

Colby laughed. “I don’t need the money. I’ve got Victor’s millions and his plane ticket to Rio. But I’ll feel a hell of a lot better when I’m hanging on the beach if you’re out of my head.”

Grace was running out of time. She had to help Keith.

She sprinted to the gun, but Elizabeth beat her to it and plucked it off the floor.

“What were you going to do with this?” Elizabeth cocked her head and tipped the gun at Grace.

“Give me the gun, Elizabeth.”

“Colby deserves better, you know. He hasn’t had a chance to live his own life. But now he can. I can’t let you ruin that for him.”

“He ruined that for himself.” She inched towards Elizabeth. “Now give me the gun. You’re going to get hurt.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Colby needs me. He’d never hurt me.”

“I wasn’t talking about Colby.” She didn’t have time to argue with Elizabeth. She needed to find Keith. “If you don’t give me the gun, I will hurt you. Do you understand?”

Elizabeth’s brows drew into a frown, she clutched the gun tighter.

Okay. I guess that’s a no.

Grace launched herself at Elizabeth, balled her hand into a fist and punched the other woman in the nose.

Elizabeth dropped the gun. She cupped her hands to her face. “My nose! You gave me a bloody nose!”

Grace snatched the gun from the floor and tore across the room. Her steps stuttered when a wide smear of crimson across the pine planks caught her eye.

Blood? Whose blood?

Keith was fine. It couldn’t be his blood.

She shook off the shiver of dread that coursed down her spine and stepped onto the flimsy plywood deck that jutted precariously over a deep ravine. No railing lined the edges. Nothing between safety and a nasty fall.

Colby circled Keith in the middle of the deck. Keith matched Colby’s moves with fierce dogged steps. A large dark spot marred his fatigues from his right shoulder to the middle of his chest, his face was chalky and his eyes, though hard and determined, were dull and slightly unfocused.

Her knees buckled. Oh, God no. He had been shot. She stiffened her spine but couldn’t stop her hands from shaking. Moisture pooled in her palms and she almost lost her grip on the gun.

She sucked in a steadying breath and took aim at Colby. “Stop! Right now!”

Instead of listening to her, Colby lunged for Keith. He grabbed him in a chokehold and yanked him in front of him as a shield. “Go ahead. Shoot me.” He sent her a feral smile and backed up toward the edge of the deck. Toward the ravine.

Her stomach quaked. “Don’t move.”

She realigned her aim on Colby. She’d never used a gun before. Point and shoot. That’s all she knew about firing a weapon.

She fingered the trigger, but her gaze snagged on Keith.

She couldn’t do it. She’d hit Keith. She’d hit him and he’d be dead.

Her shoulders sagged and she started to lower the gun.

“Do it.”

She flinched at the sound of Keith’s raw voice and searched his eyes. Love and confidence shone through his fatigue.

“Take the shot,” he said.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Do it.”

Colby backed off several more steps to the section of the deck that hung over the ravine. A little more and he’d be at the edge. If he stepped over, he’d take Keith with him.

“Stop moving! Right now!” Tears stung her eyes and blurred her vision.

What should she do? Oh, God, she didn’t know what to do.

Colby arched a brow. “Afraid I’ll jump?” He laughed and backed up until his heels slipped over the edge.

She blinked the wetness from her eyes. “Please, Colby. Just stop.”

Pain tightened Keith’s jaw. “Do it! Take the shot, Grace!” His voice cracked and echoed across the ravine.

Her breath seized in her throat. She raised the gun at Colby’s head and squeezed the trigger. Keith threw his body to the side and the bullet slammed into Colby, narrowly missing Keith.

She staggered back a step from the gun’s recoil. In the eerie silence after the gun’s discharge, another loud crack split the air. Surprise froze Colby’s pained features as the rotted section of the plywood broke away from the rest of the deck. Colby crashed through the floor before Keith had a chance to dive for the middle of the deck.

He plunged over the side.

Grace cried out and dropped the gun. Oh, God. She’d killed him. No. Please, God. No.

“Keith!”

She dropped to her knees at the jagged edge. “No, no, no.”

She peered over the side and wept in relief when she saw Keith’s hand gripping one of the joists that supported the deck floor, his body suspended over the ravine.

She thrust her arm over the side. “Take my hand, Keith.”

He raised his head and met her eyes. “Grace?”

“Come on. Give me your hand.”

He swung his free hand up to her and she clutched it tightly in hers. She squeezed it and tried to pull him up, but she had nothing to use as leverage.

“I need help here!”

She dug her heels into the deck and tried again. Her muscles screamed at her. Keith’s hand slipped in hers. “Don’t you dare let go. Hang on.”

Footsteps rushed the house and Quinn barreled through the back door. “I’m sorry, Grace. I had to double back around the damn ravine—Shit!” He knelt beside her and latched on to Keith’s arm. “I’ve got him.”

Grace nodded but refused to let go. Together they pulled Keith onto the sturdy portion of deck. He rolled onto his back, his eyes closed, his face drenched in sweat.

“Keith...”

He blinked and his eyes slowly came to focus on her.

She touched his face. “Stay with me, okay?” She pressed her hands to his wound. “Quinn, help him.”

“I called for the chopper. It’s on its way.”

Her fingers slipped in Keith’s blood. “Where is Elizabeth?”

“Who?”

“The woman in the cabin. She’s a nurse.”

Quinn shook his head. “She must’ve skipped out. I didn’t see her.”

“No. I’m here.” Elizabeth stepped onto the deck, her soft voice thick with tears, her nose still dotted with blood.

“You have to help him.” Grace’s stomach heaved. She felt so damn helpless. “There’s so much blood. I don’t know what to do.”

Elizabeth’s mouth tightened, but she nodded. She knelt next to Grace and pushed her hands aside, examining Keith’s wound. “There’s an exit wound. Here.” She touched the back of Keith’s shoulder. “That’s the good news. He’s lost a lot of blood, though. There’s not much I can do other than put pressure on the wound. He needs a hospital.”

“Quinn? Where’s that damn helicopter?”

“Two minutes, Grace.”

“Grace...?” Keith lifted a weak hand.

She clutched it between her bloodied ones. “I’m here, Keith. I’m right here.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he rasped. “I’ll be fine.”

Sweetheart. God, he must really be out of it to call her by such an endearment. Her eyes burned from the tears that spilled over her lashes.

He slowly lifted his other hand and grimaced as he cupped her cheek. “You’re hurt. That bastard...hurt you.”

“No.” Fear and love lodged in her throat. “I’m fine. It’s you...God, Keith, don’t you dare die on me.”

“I would die for you, Gracie,” he said, misinterpreting her words. “In a heartbeat. I love you so damn much, I can’t think straight.”

“That’s not love. That’s pain.” She swallowed the smile that edged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m so sorry. For everything. I...I’ve been a fool. Holding on to my grudge like a safety net, hoping that if I kept you at a distance I could keep my heart safe—”

His hand went limp in her grasp.

“Keith!” She pressed her face to his fiery cheek. “It wasn’t you I’d needed to forgive. It was me. Do you hear me? I’d wanted someone to be angry with. Someone to blame. But it shouldn’t have been you. You were never at fault.”

The rhythmic thwack of helicopter blades sliced the air. “Helicopter’s here,” Quinn said. “Just hang on.”

Minutes later, Quinn and the pilot dashed through the house with a stretcher. “We’re going to airlift him to the hospital.”

She stood off to the side as they rolled him onto the stretcher. She wiped her bloodied hands on her pants and tossed one last look at Elizabeth who’d retreated to the doorway once the helicopter arrived.

Her eyes wide and cloudy, her clothes and hands streaked with blood, she lifted her chin in Grace’s direction.

Grace sent her a hesitant nod then left her standing, alone, as she dashed to the helicopter. Quinn helped her inside, she sat next to Keith, and held his hand in hers.

He’d pull through. But, for good measure, she prayed the entire journey from cabin to hospital.

 

 

Keith hated hospitals. Hated the interruptions from nurses and doctors, the poking and prodding, and the sterile cold atmosphere that never failed to remind him of his childhood home. Though he’d only been here overnight, he was more than ready to skip the joint.

A knock intruded into his thoughts and he sighed. Not again.

He sat up in bed with a wince. “Come in.”

Instead of the imposing nurse he’d expected, Ryker bounded into the room with Grace right behind him.

“Keith!” Ryker threw himself into his arms. “You’re okay!”

Keith wrapped Ryker into a hug, his heart twisted into knots. “I’m great, buddy.”

“Careful of Keith’s shoulder, Ry.”

Keith caught Grace’s hesitant smile over the top of Ryker’s head. A dark purple bruise marred her cheek, reminding him how close he’d come to losing her yesterday.

He drank in the sight of her in a pair of faded blue jeans and a sexy pale green tank top. Love shone from her sparkling emerald eyes, infinitely sexier to him than the tantalizing curves of her body.

Grace ruffled Ryker’s hair. “Come on. Show Keith what you brought for him.”

He tore his gaze from Grace and frowned at the envelope Ryker thrust under his nose.

“What’s this?”

Ryker grinned. “It’s for you.”

“Yeah?”

He tore into the envelope and unfolded the piece of paper. In the middle, Ryker had drawn a huge heart with three stick figures holding hands in the heart’s center. In red crayon he’d wrote, “Get well soon, Keith. I miss you.”

A lump formed in Keith’s throat. His eyes stung. “Thanks, buddy.” He reached for Ryker, ignoring the tug of the IV when he wrapped his arms around his small body. “This is the best.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Um...let me talk to you mom a minute, okay?”

“’Kay. Can I watch TV?”

“You sure can.”

“Cool!”

Keith held out his bandaged hand and Grace placed hers in his as she came to stand beside the bed.

“You look better,” she said.

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