"Carson." Nikki's quivering voice drew his attention to her. "It's over."
The defeat in her tone pierced clean through him. He looked in her eyes, the neck of the bottle clenched in his hand with such easy familiarity. He expected to see anguish in her expression, even resignation.
Instead, he saw spunk, anger. Determination.
She hadn't given up at all. She was saying out loud what Avery expected to hear. Her eyes, however, were relaying something else entirely.
Carson glanced outside the windshield, no miraculous weapons to be found on the old battlefield, just the rickety bridge and water. He turned back to Nikki and realized they had everything they needed right here. Trust that flowed both ways.
He wasn't sure how, but she would get out of the line of fire long enough for him to take out Avery. If they died at least Avery couldn't hide a gunshot. There would be justice.>She sagged limply against the seat belt. Strangely slack, not even startling at his touch.
The premonition blasted into full scale alert a second before a looming form rose from the backseat of his extended cab. Carson jerked, ready to launch, attack.
A gun pressed to his forehead stopped him cold. Avery at the other end stopped him colder.
"Major, I'm really sorry it's come to this, but Nikki's enjoying a little nap from a tap on the head." The traitorous lieutenant shifted the gun ever so slightly until it pointed at unconscious Nikki. "Drive, or I'll be having a piece of her while you watch."
Chapter 16
No strange room or temporary amnesia this time. Even through the pounding in her head, Nikki recognized Carson's scent and the sound of his well-tuned truck.
And another cologne. Cloying. Hideously familiar.
The rest mushroomed back to life in her brain. Kevin. In the parking lot. Her mind blazed with thoughts of the night Gary died...then everything went dark.
Did Carson know? Had Kevin somehow stolen the truck?
She started to open her eyes—then rethought. For the moment she would stay limp against the shoulder harness anchoring her to the heated seats until she figured out what was going on.
"Avery—" Carson's voice rumbled from beside her on the driver's side "—you really don't want to do this."
Just the sound of him filled her with love—and dread that he should be here at all. She'd prayed he was safe back at the church, searching for her, alerting the cops.
Anywhere but here.
"Nikki didn't leave me any choice," Kevin answered from behind her. "She kept digging for the memories."
"You killed Owens?" The shock in Carson's voice echoed within her. Kevin and Gary were friends. Kevin seemed so clean-cut and honorable. Except hadn't she just realized— how long since she'd been at the support meeting?—that military people had flaws and bad apples like anywhere else. Like the police force or other professions that as a whole pledged to protect.
But ohmigod, this went beyond a simple problem.
"Well, Major, I bet on a few games every once and a while to pay off my college loans. A top-notch education is important for getting ahead. You should understand that since your family could afford the best."
Kevin's hot breath blasted against her hair as he moved closer to her. Did he have a gun? He must, or Carson would have taken him out.
The truck shifted into a turn. "A Chief of Staff doesn't have a gambling addiction and bash in people's skulls."
Leather behind her creaked. "A Chief of Staff definitely doesn't have the taint of a gambling addiction on his record—" Kevin's words tumbled faster, angry "—and Owens was going to out me, just because he didn't like my little sideline of taking bets to pay my college loans faster."
"You were a bookie?"
It was all Nikki could do not to blurt her surprise, as well. Good God, how did he expect to keep that a secret? The guy really was an idiot—or so deep in his addiction he'd lost all sense of reason.
"Owens was going to rat me out, something about loyalty to the program. Jesus, all I did was help a few of his buddies in the program make a little extra at the racetrack."
Avery had targeted Gambler's Anonymous members? The guy truly was lower than slime. For money or his addiction or ambition, he'd sold his soul and bartered a few more along with it.
"I couldn't let that happen." His tenor tones pitched higher, faster. High-strung and nervous could be an advantage if they caught him unaware, or a liability if he got twitchy. "I had everything planned perfectly for Nikki to take the fall for an accidental death, self-defense during a rape attempt. Even drugged up, she fought a little when I took her clothes off after Owens was dead. But that just helped set the scene even better."