Possessed by Passion (Doms of Destiny, Colorado 9)
Page 57
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Hearing the menacing voice, Dustin glanced at Mick. Without a word, they pulled out their guns and bolted as fast as they could to the Emergency Room.
Paris is in trouble. I must keep her safe. She is my world. I must protect her.
Running through the double doors, Dustin spotted Paris being held by a creep who had a gun to her head in the empty ER waiting room.
An all-consuming surge of rage came over him as he charged the motherfucker threatening the woman of his dreams.
“You?” The man pushed Paris away, firing the gun at him.
He tackled the bastard, falling on top of him, pinning him to the floor. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Mick pulling Paris safely away.
Relief washed over him.
The man kneed him in the groin, causing him to roll to his side. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. She’s safe.
“I’m Peter Barkley, Dr. Ryder.”
“Do we know each other?” Dustin reached down his right side and felt warm liquid. My blood. The guy didn’t miss. He glanced around the room, seeing Mick pull Paris through another set of doors. Her safety came first.
“Ten years ago you killed my woman, asshole. In Phoenix. Remember?”
“You’re Anne Barkley’s husband.” How many years had he replayed her death in his head? “You beat her up that day. She died because of you.” Not me.
“Liar! You killed her!” Barkley pointed his gun between Dustin’s eyes. “Time for you to die, quack.”
“Hey,” Mick yelled, rushing into the room with his pistol drawn. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“Fuck you.” The madman swung around to shoot his brother.
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Fighting through the ever-increasing pain, Dustin lunged and grabbed his arm, causing Barkley’s shot to miss.
Mick fired his gun, hitting the creep in the chest.
Barkley’s eyes opened wide in shock. “What the fuuu…ohh.” The bastard slumped to the ground, dead.
“Oh my God.” Paris came running back into the room. “You’ve been shot.”
A man wearing a white coat and a cast came through the doors, holding a weapon with his good arm. “What the hell?” He bent over the shooter. “Shit. This is Karl Lemmon, the state inspector.”
“No,” Dustin said. “His name was Peter Barkley.”
“Whoever he was, he’s dead now,” Alex said, keeping his gun drawn. “Who are you two?” he asked him and Mick.
Paris turned to him. “They’re good guys, Alex.” Her voice shook.
“It’s going to be okay, baby.” Dustin fought through the pain and reached up and touched her on the cheek. “I promise. I will always take care of you.”
Mick put his around her. “We both will, sweetheart.”
Dustin’s head was spinning and he knew he was close to passing out from the loss of blood. He needed to get out the words. He needed her to know how he felt. “Paris, I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He looked into her gorgeous eyes. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you all those years. I love you. I only want you to be happy.”
“I know. I love you, too, but be still and don’t move.” Although Paris was still white as a sheet from being held at gunpoint for the second time in her life, like always, she was able to set her own emotions aside in an emergency.
“If you need any help handling my stubborn brother, baby, I’m your man.” Mick kissed her on the cheek. “He loves you and I love you. We’re together after all these years apart. Nothing is going to separate us again, I swear.”