He was wrong. If she screamed, Liam would come running, would try to save her. If she screamed, Vishenko would shoot him, too. “You really think if you died I would want to go on living?” she’d told Liam and she knew it for the truth. She couldn’t risk his life.
Memories of him flooded her consciousness, and as plain as if he was standing next to her, she could hear him saying, “What do you think love is, Cate?... It’s wanting to be with her when you draw your last breath...or when she draws hers.”
An eerie calm settled over her, almost as if Liam’s arms were enfolding her, holding her safe, and she drew courage from it. She knew she was going to die, but Liam was with her in her mind and that was all that mattered. “No,” she said, shaking her head, determination tightening her muscles. “I won’t scream. I won’t beg. And you won’t rape me, ever again.”
He cocked his head to one side, considering. “No? Perhaps you are right.” He sighed with real regret. “It is too bad, Caterina. I would have enjoyed having you one last time.”
“Federal agents! Freeze!”
The harsh voices came out of nowhere, slicing through the air, just as Vishenko raised his gun once more. But even before that, a hard, male body crashed into Cate’s, knocking her out of Vishenko’s line of fire as he squeezed the trigger.
Gunshots rang out from several directions almost simultaneously, slamming into Vishenko’s body. He tottered a few steps, a look of utter surprise on his face. He dropped the gun and fell to his knees, his hands clutching his chest, while the small blossoms of red that had first appeared there grew larger and larger. Then he pitched forward.
Pinned to the ground by the heavy weight on top of her, dazed and confused by everything that had just happened, Cate tried to take it all in as four people swarmed onto the narrow path. The smallest person—a woman she realized, with blond hair similar to her own—kicked the gun away from Vishenko’s outstretched hand while still keeping her own gun steadfastly pointed at him. Another person—a man she’d met when Alec and Angelina found her—knelt beside the body and felt for a pulse.
“Dead,” Cody Walker said, and by his tone Cate knew he wasn’t sorry.
A third person, another man she recognized—Trace McKinnon—lowered his weapon, then glanced in Cate’s direction and cursed fluently.
From behind her, strong hands lifted the weight from her body. Only then did she realize something warm and sticky was seeping through her clothing. When she rolled over she saw Sheriff Callahan propping Liam upright against his shoulder. She watched in horror as Liam coughed up blood once...twice...then sagged unconscious against the man holding him.
“Walker!” Callahan barked, reaching over and ripping Liam’s jacket open, then raising up his shirt to expose the two bloody gunshot wounds caused by the bullet that had entered Liam’s body just above his waist and exited out the other side.
“Oh no!” The words didn’t come from her own mouth, Cate realized. They were coming from the blonde as she and Walker hurriedly converged on Liam, blocking Cate’s view.
Gentle hands helped her rise to a sitting position. “You okay?” McKinnon asked her as one hand moved impersonally over the damp patches of blood on her back. “Were you shot?”
“No, I... Liam,” she said disjointedly. “His blood, not mine.” She clutched McKinnon’s arms. “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?”
He didn’t answer her, just tapped an earpiece in his ear. “We’ve got a situation here. We need a medical team, stat. No, sir,” he continued. “It’s Jones—explanations can wait.” Cate couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but even hearing only one side was enough to get the gist. McKinnon glanced around and made a face of frustration. “You can’t land a medevac chopper here at the cabin—there’s no way. The main road’s our only chance. You get a chopper there, we’ll meet you.” He listened for a couple of seconds. “Yes, sir, will do.”
Desperate to know Liam was going to make it, Cate turned back to stare at the knot of people frantically working on him, but she couldn’t see much.
McKinnon’s voice was sharp and staccato when he told the people surrounding Liam, “D’Arcy’s calling for a medevac chopper. I told him we’d meet him at the main road.”
Walker stood up, and suddenly Cate could see Liam’s ashen face, bloody lips and the pressure bandage they’d strapped around his body. “The cot,” Walker said, his voice harder than she’d ever heard it. And she knew it was bad. Really bad. “I’ll get the cot from the cabin and we can carry him that way.”