Pretty Shameless, page 21
part #2 of Deputy Laney Briggs Series
Sal nodded his head and stood still.
Willie spit on the floor and smiled as he looked at Gunner.
“By God, I bet she’s a ton of fun in the sack, ain’t she?” he asked Gunner.
A trigger clicked, and the harsh tone of Gunner’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck crawl. “Enough of this shit,” Gunner said. “I want both of you on the floor, hands behind your heads. Laney, if either one of these fuckers moves so much as a finger, shoot him.”
“It sounds like you guys just about got this thing wrapped up,” Elroy said as he slung the connecting door open wide enough for him to pass through, hitting Gunner in the back hard and making him stumble forward into the end table.
I had taken my eyes off Sal for a split second when I heard Elroy’s voice coming from behind me, but with Gunner still picking himself up from the end table it was all the time Sal needed. He might have been built like a tank, but he could move like an Olympian wrestler. Before I knew it, Sal charged across the room and slammed into me and Elroy, driving our bodies to the floor. When I regained my senses, I was quick to gather that the tables had turned drastically. Sal was holding me up against him by the collar of my shirt with one of his bearlike arms. On the floor to my right, Elroy was out cold. Apparently he’d gotten tagged in the head like the fat kid in dodge ball. Across the room, Gunner still had his gun pointed at Willie, but both of the men were staring at me. Willie was beaming, his eyes bright and his smile wide. Gunner, however, stood there looking at me with his jaws clenched and his eyes full of the terror that comes from seeing a loaded gun pressed up against the head of the woman he loves.
“Laney,” I heard Willie call, “why don’t you talk some sense into your man. Tell him how much you don’t wanna die today.”
My knees almost gave way.
“It’s gonna be okay, Laney,” Gunner said with a reassuring nod. “Don’t listen to the asshole.”
I stared the gun barrel down, then cast a glance at Willie before finding the calm within the storm. Gunner doing what he does best: being a badass Texas Ranger with a killer aim.
“I don’t understand how you think it’s gonna be okay, Mr. Texas Ranger. If you don’t put your gun down, your juicy piece of ass over there is gonna die. There’s no getting around that hard truth.”
He waited for Gunner to say something, but Gunner stayed silent, keeping his eyes on both Willie and Sal.
“All I’ve got to do is say the word, and Sal over there will put a bullet right through her pretty little head. It ain’t that complicated, is it?” Willie continued as if he was trying to wrap up a car deal with a reluctant customer.
“Sal,” Gunner said, steadying his voice. “I want you to think about what Willie is asking you to do.”
“And what might that be?” Sal grumbled.
“Think about the fact that it’s a deputy he wants you to kill.”
I gulped, my throat feeling thick and hot.
“So?” Sal asked, not smart enough to catch what Gunner was implying.
“You kill her, you’re a cop killer. That’s the death penalty.”
Gunner allowed that information some time to sink in.
“Don’t listen to him, Sal. He’s full of shit,” Willie interjected.
“Does Willie pay you enough to die for him?” Gunner asked.
“I’ll double your salary, Sal. There’s an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Everybody shut up for a minute!” Sal roared, pressing the gun into my forehead slightly harder. Of course, I winced.
The room became silent as both Gunner and Willie stared at Sal, each knowing that Sal’s decision would be the single deciding factor in determining how this standoff would end. In the silence and tension of the room, it felt like a vacuum was sucking the air out of it. I could barely breathe as I waited for Sal to answer. I felt his chest draw in deep as he was about to speak.
“All right now,” Sal began. “If you double—”
And then a gunshot went off and a bullet hole appeared in the center of Sal’s head. And all I could think about was the flesh and bone splattered across the wall. The next thing I knew, there was a three-hundred-pound corpse lying on top of me with a bullet hole between his eyes and blood and brain matter all in my hair. Biting back a scream I tried to not lose my shit as I stared into a pair of glassy, motionless eyes.
“Elroy,” I heard Gunner shout, “cover Willie.”
There was the sound of Elroy shuffling heavily across the room. Then I felt the weight of Sal’s body roll off me and Gunner’s hand wrapping around my arm and pulling me to my feet.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling me into his arms and pressing his forehead to mine. The warm touch of lips against my skin almost caused the tears to start steamrolling down my cheeks. But I couldn’t look weak, not now.
“Yeah.” My voice shook.
“Just stay there,” he said to me, then walked over to help Elroy with Willie King. He pushed his hat up, peered down, and said, “Willie, if you’d have just stood down, I could’ve made sure that they treat you nicely in county lockup.”
“Fuck you,” Willie spat. “You have no idea what kind of shit you’ve opened yourself up to.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Gunner said and turned to Elroy. “Keep that gun on him until I have the cuffs snug around his wrists.”
I had taken a seat on one of the dinette chairs. Having a gun to my head and a Goliath-sized corpse on top of me had taken its toll. Gunner slapped the handcuffs on Willie and pulled him up off the floor.
“You son of a bitch,” Gunner growled. “You just had to go and threaten Laney.” And he drove his fist into Willie’s face.
I whirled around. “Gunner, stop.”
Gunner’s fist was raised, his nostrils were flared, and I knew any minute now that vein was going burst along his forehead.
“Goddamn prick,” Willie squelched out before Gunner’s hands wrapped around his neck.
“Shut the fuck up,” Gunner ordered, slamming his elbow into Willie’s jaw. And the sound of bone and cartilage snapping filled the room. That was all we were going to hear from Willie for a while.
Elroy was already sitting down at the table with me, for the first time ever deservedly wiping away the sweat he’d earned. Gunner took a seat on the bed next to Willie King’s limp body, placing a call into dispatch about the shakedown at the Motor Lodge and alerting them to the fact that we had a man down and would be needing the assistance of the county coroner. I sat there taking in the gunfight, adding up one dead body, one cuffed, passed out criminal, and a fucking messy crime scene when it suddenly dawned me. “Where the hell is Wyatt?” I shouted.
No sooner had I finished asking the question than our eyes settled on the sunlight coming in through the open front door.
“That slippery motherfucker,” Gunner snarled.
“Stay here with Willie,” I told him and Elroy. “I’m going after him. He can’t be that far.”
I ran out of the room and into the empty parking lot. I stood there in the middle of it and scanned the desolate landscape. There was Wyatt trying to pedal off on a bike he’d jacked from a nearby room.
“Hey, Wyatt!” He turned to look at me.
And that’s when I aimed my gun and blew out the back tire on the bicycle.
A couple of hours after the Clint Eastwood-style gunfight concluded at the Pistol Rock Motor Lodge, I was plopped down on the curb with Wyatt cuffed to my side. Like hell I’d let him out of my sight again. Once Gunner had read Willie King his rights, he’d secured him in Elroy’s cruiser while we waited for the City of Odessa Mobile Crime Lab to show up. Adjacent to the motel was the Pistol Rock strip mall littered with a liquor store, feed store, and the only attorney in town… He specialized in divorce. As I sat there babysitting my cousin, I watched folks rush in and out of the liquor and feed stores in hopes of finding that last-minute Christmas gift. If I was lucky, we’d wrap up this damn clusterfuck with my cousin, and I’d be able to grab a bottle of Gunner’s favorite scotch, Johnnie Walker Black, before closing time.
Wyatt shuffled at my side. “Come on, Laney. These fucking cuffs are tight.” He whined like a damn drama queen.
I sent an elbow into his gut. “Like I give a fuck,” I seethed. “After everything you put me through and you thought it was a nice way to repay me by running with your tail between your legs again.” Wyatt just stared at me. “And hell, I still need to get Gunner a Christmas gift.”
Wyatt snorted. “Kind of running out of time on that one, Laney.”
“Well, I’ve been busy,” I said, then jabbed him in the arm for good measure.
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a white van whipping into the motel lot. It skidded to a halt right next to Gunner’s Yukon. Jesse Throckmorton wiggled out—he held the county coroner position, but on the side ran Hefty Bags, the family crime scene cleanup business—dressed head to toe in white surgical scrubs and pushed a gurney into the motel room.
Thirty minutes later, Jesse wheeled the gurney out, black zippered body bag and all, with Gunner and Elroy tagging not far behind. My throat strangled just thinking about how Sal’s brains had spewed all over the wall. Jesse trundled the gurney into the back of his van. Giving us all a friendly wave, he climbed behind the wheel and peeled away from the motel.
Groaning, I settled into the fact I’d be spending my Christmas Eve with a few third wheels. Not exactly how I’d pictured Santa coming to my house.
“Laney,” Gunner drawled my name loud and clear, snapping me out my pity party. “Why don’t you head on home and get cleaned up, sweetheart.” He looked at Elroy stomping toward his cruiser. “The two of us will take care of booking Wyatt and Willie. Besides, since its Christmas Eve they’ll have to stay in the sheriff station here in town until I drive them out to Odessa in a few days.”
I stood up and dusted off the seat of my jeans off. “Fine with me,” I said. “I’d much rather spend my night in pajamas and sipping hot cocoa than with that bastard.” I thumbed at Wyatt.
Gunner stepped in front me and dropped his Yukon keys in my hand. “No pajamas.” He smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ve made plans.” He rocked forward on the toes of his black cowboy boots and laid one helluva kiss on my lips. I could’ve stayed lost in his touch forever, but he pulled away, breaking the sensual embrace. “Make sure to bundle up. I’ll only be a couple of hours,” he said, tapping me on the nose, then turned to swagger his damn fine ass in the direction of Elroy’s cruiser.
Chapter Eighteen
“Don’t forget your coat,” Gunner hollered while shuffling about the kitchen.
Shortly after I’d jumped out of the shower I heard Gunner’s boots clomping about our bedroom. He smiled at me as he shucked his dirty black T-shirt, then wandered into the bathroom to wash away the grime of the day. Now, here I stood lounged in the kitchen doorway, staring at the man of my dreams, and utterly clueless when it came to his intentions for the evening.
The only thing he’d dished about was the fact that we’d be taking a drive.
I grabbed my black leather jacket off the wall peg and slung it on as I walked toward him. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” I asked, zipping myself up.
Gunner turned around, denim jacket cinched up to his neck, black cowboy hat adjusted in that perfectly sexy position that always caused me to swoon. “Now where would the fun be in that, sweetheart?” He picked up the Yukon keys off the counter and cocked a playful eyebrow. “I promise, though, you won’t be disappointed,” he said, closing the gap between us and taking my hand in his. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”
I couldn’t wait to see what our midnight drive had in store.
A little past the bewitching hour, down a long, twisty dirt road, the Yukon came to a stop outside a rundown ranch barely a quarter mile from town. To say I was surprised was an understatement. A large plantation-style house sat on the hilltop with all the windows boarded shut. Huge oak trees lined both sides of a paved driveway leading toward the front porch. There was a greenhouse near the rear of the property and an old broken-down tractor sat stalled in the dried-up cornfield.
Gunner killed the engine, turning toward me. “You wanna see why I’ve been spending so many late nights at the office?” He reached in the glove compartment and pulled out a set of keys, then exited the vehicle.
I peered out the fogged-up window, spying the empty patch of land to the left housing lumber and a weather-battered barn. I pushed open the car door. “I hope you have a little more in mind than a nice, quiet stroll,” I addressed my Texas Ranger, appreciating the way those jeans pulled tight around his muscled thighs as he lounged against the hood of the SUV.
My red boots took a home on the cold, hard earth. Goose bumps rose on my flesh, and a cool breeze nipped at my nose. Gunner rounded the Yukon and stuck out a hand. I grabbed on and followed him into the darkness.
Moments later I found myself staring down two old front doors. Not the direction I’d envisioned this evening heading. Snow flurries swirled in the air, lightly dusting the top of my auburn hair. Gunner stepped forward and reached for the door. The latch clicked, gracing us both with a vast empty space glistening in the illuminating moonlight.
“Come on, Laney,” he said, tugging on my hand.
I drank in my hunky Texas Ranger, then took him up on the offer and walked into the blackness.
“Give me a sec,” he said, his voice sounding more enticing than a gingerbread cookie on Christmas Eve.
“Sure.” His hand slipped from my mine, and old, unforgettable memories surfaced, bringing with them a dull pain.
There was no point in dwelling on past mistakes: the loss of our baby, the relationship fallout, my murdered fiancé. We’d both made our beds, and now here we stood picking up the pieces. Naturally I’d feel slightly uneasy, but it was time to embrace the future—whatever twisty road that took us both down.
Love had many faces. It could be tragic. Sometimes it hurt. Most days it fed more confusion than trust. And I’d seen each and every one in the cold light of day.
The light switched on. A shadowy glow flickered across the plank floors. Under the florescent bulbs, the one man that held my heart firmly in his hand stood with a black cowboy boot propped on the bottom step of a spiraling staircase.
And sometimes a lover could be found in the darkest hours. At least, I prayed.
That boyish grin returned, slicing right through my trip down memory lane. At the moment there were a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t be here waiting to let my bad-boy Texas Ranger show me just how smooth he could be.
Yet deep down I understood my reasoning for sticking around. I was hopelessly in love.
“Laney,” Gunner said and reached out, waving me toward him. “What do you think?” He sounded like a kid in the candy store savoring the sweet promises that await.
I surveyed the old house. Pier and beam rafters hung above, and faded whitewashed walls dazzled in the dimly lit space.
“It looks like an old house,” I answered.
He laughed and took a step my way. “This old house”—the smile grew on his chiseled, manly jaw—“is all ours, along with the land and barn, sweetheart.”
My eyes widened, surprised. “Come again?”
He pulled off his hat and ran a steady hand through his brown locks, tousling the strands about his face. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but we’ve both been so busy I never got the chance. You wanted to know why all the late nights, and why I became point on Wyatt’s case…well,” he said, “I needed the money so I could save up and buy us our own place.”
“But we have the old farmhouse.”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me flush against that rock-hard chest; zippered flies butted heads and our mouths came to a screeching halt in a desperate, seductive kiss. The heat in my belly kicked up a notch when his sweet-talking lips pressed into my forehead as he whispered his truths. “We both need a fresh start.” He kissed me again, then drew his sinful mouth down the side of my face, making himself a nice new home in the crook of my neck. “You want the cold hard truth, Laney Briggs?”
More than ever. Even though he could break me with a single word, I ached to hear all his sordid secrets. It’d been a long time coming.
I wrapped my arms around his narrow hips. “So are you tired of living with me?” I asked, searching his expressionless face. “Because it looks like you went out and bought your own place.”
Gunner snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side. “Come on, Laney.” He squeezed me tighter and touched his lips to my forehead in an appreciative kiss. “Let me show you around,” he said with smiling eyes, then whisked me away down a dank, long hallway.
I peered up at him. “Sure, why not.”
Just past a gutted hall bathroom and a bedroom littered in heaping piles of trash stood a kitchen. Rotted dingy oak cabinets lined the back wall, chipped beige floor tiles spanned from corner to corner, and a bashed-in light fixture swung overhead attached to a yellow water-stained ceiling.
Gunner moved aside and stepped in front of me. “This,” he said, arms outstretched, “is why I want you to pick out new appliances for Christmas.”
The cat must’ve had my tongue, because I was speechless.
When he noticed my quiet demeanor, he reached out and grabbed hold of my hand. “Don’t worry, by the time I’m done with this kitchen you’ll be the envy of all those Junior League ladies,” he said, drawing me flush against his chest. “Wanna see more?”
I nodded silently. Of course, I was a glutton for punishment.
Leading me through a short, narrow hallway, we proceeded up that rickety staircase. Floral-papered walls coated the hall. Displaced ratty furniture was flung about rooms. We wandered hand and hand by each room, allowing Gunner a minute to fill me in on how he’d fix the place up to living standards. Inside I was screaming what the fuck? as we walked toward the last scratched-up door at the end of the hall.
He pushed it open and pulled us inside the darkness. Keeping me close, Gunner ran a hand up and down the adjacent wall until he found the light switch. Cool florescent light blinded the small space before me. Momentarily caught off guard, I took in my surroundings. Pale, powder pink walls and white stickered bunny rabbits cluttered the room. No this couldn’t be happening. And right then and there my past smacked me dead on in the face. The air in my lungs was stale and hollow. Too much. Memories have a way of drudging up the bitter past, and tonight I really didn’t need to picture all those lost moments of how it would have felt rocking my baby girl to sleep. The room started to spin, and in my heart I knew if I didn’t hear him speak soon I might fall flat on my face. Faint. Like a dead fish in the water.
