Until the Tequila (The Killers #3.5)(22)

“Right,” I seethe, knowing for a fact Mary told me they weren’t married, not that it matters anyway. I don’t take my eyes off his, watching his every move, his every reaction to me. “I’m sure you’ll leave her be. Until you blow it all. You and I just met, but I can tell—with your winning personality—you’re probably not going to leave her to live her life in peace.”

I hear a cry from the ditch and it’s all I can do to hold my ground and not go to her.

The asshole starts to move to Mary. There’s no way he’s gonna lay a finger on her. Not while I’m still breathing.





Mary





No, not Evan.

My fucking father. He can have whatever he wants, but I can’t let anything happen to Evan. Not like this, not for me.

“You can have whatever you want.” I don’t even know if they can hear me through the rain.

The pain in my neck is excruciating and I think my temple is still bleeding. I do my best to reach for my seatbelt and finally unlatch it. Thunder and lightning come down around us, the heavens angry and punishing. My body screams, the hurt shooting down my back, but I twist and push my door open. Through the assaulting streams from the sky, I see them—Evan standing sentry between me and my father.

My father looks older and even harsher than I remember. I always complained about the foster homes I bounced around in like a pinball, but maybe I should be thankful he never wanted me. I’m not sure if I would’ve survived life with him.

“Mary, stay where you are.” Evan doesn’t give me a glance but his words are firm.

I look to my father and realize I’m crying. “I’ll give you what you want, I promise. Just let us be.”

But my heart races when he doesn’t look at me. He never takes his eyes off Evan and sneers, “Trust me, boy, she’s not worth it. There’s too many women out there to hang it up for one, especially her.”

“Evan, stop!” I beg but it’s too late. When the boom fills the night again, it’s a strike from heaven mingling with the one straight from hell.





Evan





I’ve had enough.

He raises his arm, but I’ve played lacrosse since I was eight. I even walked on in college and still play for recreation. Duane Giesen isn’t just an asshole but a stupid one. He’s underestimating me just because he’s the one with a gun.

But I’m fast.

And it’s fucking dark and raining.

By the time he raises his gun, I’m on the move and drop to the cold, hard, slick pavement.

Mary’s screams pierce my soul at the same moment my feet get close enough to kick his out from under him. He falls with a humph and I scramble, moving for his hand. He struggles and I lunge, slamming my elbow in his throat but we’re soaked to the bone and my hand slips from his forearm as he scuffles below me.

I put my weight to his chest and fight his arm as he stares up at me with a look so malicious, it sends chills down my spine. His hand starts to shake as we fight for control of the gun. “She’s a piece of trash just like her mama. Not worth your life, boy.”

I look into his eyes. They’re shaped like Mary’s, but instead of blue and bright as a perfect summer day, they’re dark and evil and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure they never aim their way at Mary again.

Unlike his voice that was as shaky as his weak arm, mine comes out even and I mean it with everything I am. “Rot in hell.”





Mary





They’re rolling on the ground and my father has already shot at him once.

“Stop!” I try but it’s useless. My voice is weak and, when I push myself to my feet in the muddy ditch where my car landed, my head spins. I take one step toward them and lose my footing. I fall and the stormy night gets gloomier until my vision spirals into nothing and, as my ears ring and I fall into blackness, the last thing I hear is a second gunshot…





Evan





Feet hit pavement—and not just one pair. I’m not sure how I hear it through the storm, but the closer they get, the faster they are, splashing water with every stomp.

I fall back to my ass and watch the blood seep out of Mary’s father faster than what seems natural because of the puddle he’s lying in.

“Evan?”

I jerk and look up, my lungs searching for air.

It’s not the first time in my life I’ve shot a gun, but I drop it to the pavement next to me as Addy’s new neighbor, Crew Vega, and another man come running up to me. I’ve only met Crew a few times and he’s seemed cool, but I just shot a man and I need to get to Mary.

“I…” I try to catch my breath.

“Don’t say anything,” the older one directs. “We saw it all go down on the cameras. Tried to get to you as fast as we could. We’ve got a car coming.”

I look up at them through the rain. “Cameras?”

Crew holds out a hand to me but weirdly says, “Go check on Mary. Make sure she’s stable. At this point, Grady will be able to get her to the hospital faster than waiting for an ambulance. Asa and I’ll clean this up.”

I have no idea who Grady or Asa are but, right now, I don’t give a shit. I scramble to my feet and run the ten yards to where Mary is lying in the wet grass, rain coming down on her fair skin that’s now paler than normal. I fall to my knees and feel her pulse, strumming below her skin. I have no idea if it’s fast or slow or normal, but it’s there.