Fear For Me: A Novel of the Bayou Butcher(95)

His gaze slid to the boat. That was Greg’s escape. He’d need to disable it, and then they could—

“Ross!” It was the FBI agent, Kyle, breaking through the brush and running toward them. “What the hell is happening? Where’s—”

A motor roared to life. The boat. Shit. Anthony spun around just as the boat began to lurch away from the dock.

No escape.

He rushed forward and jumped off the dock, flying through the air as he chased after his prey. His prey wouldn’t kill again.

Behind him, Lauren screamed.



“Is he gonna make it?” Paul’s voice was a low whisper, as if he was afraid Wesley would hear his words.

Wesley wasn’t going to hear anything else.

“No.” His blood covered her hands. She’d tried, but there had been nothing she could do. She hadn’t even been able to ease his pain.

Wesley wasn’t struggling to speak anymore. No more gasping breaths.

No more pain now.

“Shit, he’s dead?”

Cadence glanced up at Paul. She nodded even as she tried to shove down the ball of impotent fury in her throat.

Kyle hadn’t come back. Fear was snaking in her heart. Everywhere she looked, she seemed to see the dead.

Not Kyle. The man knew how to handle himself better than any other agent she’d met. Hell, he’d saved her ass more than a few times.

I need to be out there. With him.

“The key to the cuffs—I dropped it on the floor over there.”

She stared back at Paul.

“Dammit, trust me, I’m your backup, I—”

Cadence bent and grabbed the key. “We find Kyle, we find Ross, and we stop Greg Wright.”

Then she heard it—the blast of a gunshot. She scrambled with the key, hurrying to unlock the cuffs. The second the cuffs dropped to the floor, she and Paul ran through the back door.

Another gunshot thundered.

She saw the marshal. Jim. Down. Her fingers pressed to his pulse.

Dead, dammit. Another dead.

They ran through the woods. They found Matt—still alive.

Who else was alive?

Who else was dead?

Kyle…not him. Please not him. Kyle had to live. She needed him.

An engine kicked to life. Cadence had to leave the wounded marshal as she ran desperately toward the sound.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

With horror filling her, Lauren watched as Anthony flew over the dock and into the small boat. His body slammed into Greg’s. Greg swiped out at Anthony with the knife he still held.

Anthony drove his head into Greg’s. The knife glinted once more as Greg shoved it at Anthony.

No one was steering the boat. It bounced on the waves, rattling hard, and then— Greg slipped on the edge of the boat. He tumbled toward the black water. He grabbed Anthony’s arm, sending them both crashing into the water.

The boat rushed away, heading into the dark.

Lauren ran toward the dock, with Kyle rushing to her side. “Where are they?” Lauren demanded. Her throat hurt, a raw, burning pain from the slices. Blood soaked her skin, but she didn’t care.

She only cared about Anthony.

A dark head broke the water. The flashlight fell on him. Anthony. Her breath rushed out.

Greg’s upper body shot out of the darkness. Water flew around him, and he drove the knife in his hand straight at Anthony’s unprotected back.

“No!” Lauren screamed, and she jumped in the water.

A gunshot fired behind her.

Kyle’s bullet had missed its target. The knife had thrust into Anthony’s shoulder. As she tried to get to him, Anthony spun around—never crying out in pain, never making a sound—and knocked the weapon out of Greg’s hand. Fighting, both men sank under the water, only to jump back to the surface moments later.

Greg won’t stop. Like one of those twisted horror show killers, he just wouldn’t freaking stop.

Not until they stopped him.

Something hard and rough brushed by Lauren’s feet as she fought to swim. A gator? She recoiled. Then she swam faster. Faster.

The knife was thrust at Anthony again.

Something splashed behind her. Please be Kyle coming to help. Not a gator. With all the blood in the water, the gators would be drawn in fast.

Anthony and Greg vanished once more.

The boat’s motor was a low growl in the distance.

The splashing behind her was louder.

She whirled.

Kyle. Kyle was there. With his face grim and gun still clutched in his hand.

“Lauren…”

The voice came from behind her.

It wasn’t Anthony’s.

She grabbed for Kyle’s gun, but he held tight. They both aimed it as they spun toward Greg.

He wasn’t advancing on them. He was staring at Lauren—shock, longing, pain—all twisting in his face.

Anthony was behind him.

He had Greg’s knife. It was now pressed to the killer’s throat.

“It’s over,” Anthony snarled.

Lauren pulled her gaze from Greg and saw Cadence and Paul swimming toward them.

“Don’t kill him!” Cadence yelled. “Dammit, Ross, don’t!”

Lauren knew Anthony wanted to kill him. She wanted him dead, too. The temptation was so strong, and Lauren knew all she had to do was tell Anthony…