Bounty (Colorado Mountain 7)

Chapter Nine

Christ Almighty

Deke

Deke drove to Jussy’s house Monday morning knowing one thing.

If she didn’t go out and get them sandwiches that day, he was doing it.

She’d had her space.

They could do this.

And they were fucking going to.

He was not losing her the only way he could have her.

Which meant he was just not losing her.

These were his thoughts as he turned into her lane but he had them knowing Jus would be in that place. That was who she was. If she could take all the shit that was fucking with her life—her brother acting like an asswipe, her friend descending into a world not a lot of people pulled themselves out of—then shake that off and do it with a smile and a wiseass crack, she could get into the right space with Deke.

These were his thoughts when he drove up the lane, and if he was honest with himself, he was not even close to content with them, but he was not giving himself another choice.

When he saw two police cruisers in the lane, these thoughts were history.

He had no thoughts.

His gut had clamped in on itself and the pain was pure agony.

That didn’t mean he didn’t shove his truck into park, throw open his door with such strength he had to kick out a boot so it didn’t slam right back, and he angled out of the vehicle without even cutting the ignition.

He didn’t close the door as he jogged toward Jussy’s house.

An officer came out, looked to Deke, and Deke did not spend all his time in Carnal. Not to mention, they had a lot of new cops since the department was swept clean after Arnie Fuller’s downfall. He did not know this guy.

He did not care.

“Sir—” the cop started, one hand going to rest on his gun, the other arm lifted toward the aggressively advancing Deke.

“Where’s Jus?” Deke demanded.

“Sir, I need to know—”

“Where’s Jus?” he roared but didn’t wait for an answer.

He began running, right by the guy, right toward the house.

“Sir, that’s a crime scene. You cannot go in there,” the officer bit out quickly.

Crime scene.

Deke’s gut twisted, the excruciating pain shooting straight down, to his balls, and straight up, to clog his throat, and he sprinted into her house.

“Goddammit! Sir! You cannot go in there!” the officer shouted after him.

“Jesus, Deke,” Jon, one of the officers he did fucking know came out of the hallway that led to Jussy’s bedroom.

“She in there?” Deke asked, his gut now in knots so goddamned tight it was a wonder the coffee he drank that morning didn’t come up.

“No, man. She’s down at the station with Chace,” Jon answered.

She was down at the station.

With Chace.

Deke turned on his boot and sprinted the other way.

“You know her?” Jon asked his back as Deke nearly ran over the other cop who’d chased him in.

Deke didn’t answer.

He raced to his truck, got in, did a three pointer and hauled ass to the station.

He saw Jussy’s truck there like she’d glided it in the spot, all of her faculties firing.

He barely was able to do the same in one of the few open spaces before he put the truck in park, got out, slammed his door, didn’t beep the locks and jogged up to the station.

When he got in, he noted the activity but he only had eyes for the woman in uniform behind the desk. A woman he’d met, forgotten her name and didn’t give a fuck.

She was all about him too.

She didn’t even speak and he didn’t even get to the desk before he barked, “Where’s Jus?”

“Sorry, Deke, uh—”

He stopped at the desk, leaned toward her and thundered, “Where’s Justice Lonesome?”

Her face registered shock and alarm, her hand inching toward her sidearm, but he didn’t give a fuck about that either.

He felt her and his eyes sliced that way.

She was racing out of the hall at the back wearing the most ridiculous pajamas he’d ever seen, top to bottom. Pants and camisole in a busy print that was mind-scrambling. She also had on a Carnal Police windbreaker. She had nothing on her feet. Her hair was down.

And the left side of her face was beat to shit and there were angry, ugly, purple bruises spanning her beautiful throat.

He saw it all but he checked it all as he moved her way and he didn’t stop even when he heard the officer say, “Deke, I gotta ask—”

He kept moving and Jussy kept moving so when they hit, they slammed into each other.

He curled his arms around her and she wrapped hers around him, pushing…no, fucking burrowing into his body.

He lifted a hand and cupped her head, pressing her good cheek to his chest when she shoved out a fractured, “Deke.”

“I’m here. Right here, baby.”

He felt her body start trembling.

Fuck, all he’d lived through, all he’d done, all he’d seen, all that had been done to him, his ma.

He’d made it through all that with delivering just a few deserved ass-kickings in the process.

Now he was going to fucking kill somebody.

“Deke.”

That was not Jussy.

He lifted his eyes from the top of her gorgeous hair to see Chace was there, not close, not far.

“What fucking happened?” he demanded to know.

He felt pressure on his hand as Jus’s head went back and he looked down at her when she started, “I—”

“Not you, gypsy,” he whispered gently and again lifted eyes to Chace Keaton, friend and Carnal detective. “You,” he bit out.