“Don’t know,” Colt answered.

Morrie was silent, staring out the windshield.

Then he said, “Joe-Bob –”

“Nope, not now, Morrie. Later.”

Morrie was silent again and Colt concentrated on driving, thinking about time, how much had elapsed, what was Denny’s intent, why he’d gone off target. He was supposed to be hunting for Colt, not Susie, not f**king Melanie. Melanie could barely handle giving herself a paper cut. She’d come undone being a hostage. Colt didn’t know what this meant. He didn’t know what it meant for Susie, Melanie or Feb. He didn’t know how much time they had.

“A f**kin’ latte,” Morrie muttered.

“I need you to be cool, Morrie,” Colt told him.

“If I hadn’t –” Morrie started.

“If you hadn’t, you’d be hacked or full of holes too,” Colt told him.

“Better’n scared shitless he’s got my sister.”

Morrie was wrong. If he thought he was right, he just had to ask Jayden Whelan’s wife.

“No, it isn’t, not when you got a wife and two kids at home,” Colt said.

“I was buyin’ a latte, Colt.”

“You were doin’ something your sister wanted you to do. You think Feb’s happy about where Joe-Bob, Darryl and Marty are now? Do you think she’d want that for you? For Dee? For Palmer and Tuesday?” Morrie made a guttural noise and Colt went on. “Focus, Morrie, this ends today and you and me, we don’t need to lose control and f**k it up.”

Morrie paused then blew out a breath before he said, “Yeah.”

“You with me?” Colt asked.

“Yeah.”

Colt turned on Vine and he tried to take his own advice, he tried to keep control, be cool but all he could think was he promised Feb he’d keep her safe and, at that moment, she was far from safe.

* * * * *

“What the f**k you doin’?” Denny shouted but I was staring at the bullet hole in the wall beside where Melanie’s head used to be.

She’d fallen to the side, into Susie who had also leaned away. Both of them were crying behind their gags which worked for me since neither of them were bleeding.

Denny pushed me away and stared at me. I had to think fast, I had to buy time.

“You shot at Melanie!” I yelled.

“I gotta erase –”

“Colt wouldn’t shoot at Melanie!” I yelled over him, he went stock-still and his face went funny, not a good funny, a bad funny.

“What’d you say?” he asked quietly.

“I said Colt wouldn’t shoot Melanie. And he wouldn’t have hacked up Angie. Or Butch. Or even Pete. Colt’s about good. He’d never hurt anyone. You’re not supposed to hurt anyone!” I shouted.

“I’m not Colt,” Denny told me. “I’m Alec.”

I shook my head again, short, fast, all the while blinking. I didn’t understand.

“You’re Alec,” I said to him.

“I’m Alec,” Denny agreed.

“And Alec is Colt.”

Denny shook his head then he grinned. This wasn’t a good grin either, it, too, was a bad grin and it scared me to the depth of my soul.

“No, Feb. I’m Alec. I’m yours, Alec has always been yours. But Colt, he’s different. He’s wrong. He hurt you and, for that, he’s gonna die.”

* * * * *

Colt pulled in, parked, exited the truck and scanned the surroundings.

There were four cruisers which had lined up at angles to the house as well as Sully’s unmarked car, Colt’s truck and Warren and Rodman’s black SUV.

“Go in low,” Colt ordered Morrie who’d come around the back of the truck to Colt’s side. Colt bent double himself, running nearly in a squat to Sully who was crouched behind a cruiser.

“What’ve we got?” Colt asked.

“The SWAT team’s en route, they’ll be at least another ten minutes,” Sully answered.

This was not good. Ten minutes was a long time, too long.

“Any visual?” Colt asked.

“Curtains just been pulled, he’s seen us,” Sully replied.

“Hard not to see,” Morrie muttered and they heard more sirens in the distance so Morrie went on, “and hear.”

“Fed’s said go in hot.”

Colt lifted up and looked at the house, curtains drawn, door closed, no visual, then he crouched low behind the cruiser.

“You see Feb?” he asked Sully.

“Nope, just Denny.”

“Fed’s plan?”

“Talk him out.”

“So, are they gonna do that tomorrow or just after they take a tea break?” Morrie asked, his eyes on the conferring Warren and Rodman that were crouched behind another vehicle, Warren on the phone.

“Denny’s gone rogue, he’s off plan. They don’t know what to do with him. They’re talkin’ to Nowakowski,” Sully said as he lifted up and looked through the passenger windows at the house before he went low again.

“What –?” Colt started but stopped, his muscles petrifying instantly when they heard gunfire inside the house.

* * * * *

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” I chanted as Susie’s eyes came to me, pain and fear etched in them.

Then she slumped to the side, blood oozing from her chest.

Melanie was whimpering, she’d thrown herself off the couch and was trying to crawl away, not an easy thing to do on your belly, in a panic, with your hands tied behind your back.

My first thought was to help her but Denny turned to Melanie, aimed the gun, and I had to move fast. I lunged at his arm and caught his wrist, jerking it upward when he fired.

“Stop shooting at them!” I screeched.

Denny threw me off again and glared at me. “Gotta get this done.”

“We need to call an ambulance. You’ve shot Susie,” I yelled.

“Shoulda started with her first. World could easily do without Susie Shepherd,” Denny declared.

“That isn’t your call,” I snapped. “You’re not God.”

He tired of the conversation, looked over his shoulder at the windows and, with utter yet bizarre calm, he announced, “We gotta hurry, cops are here.”

And thank God, thank God for that.

“Give me the gun,” I demanded, moving to him again, putting my hand to his wrist but he pushed me away.

“February, stop f**kin’ around.”

I shook my head, I needed to help Susie and this needed to end. She was alive, I could hear her groaning. Her head was to the armrest, her eyes on me, her hands still behind her back, blood coming out of her, staining her couch. I couldn’t let Susie Shepherd die on her own couch with her hands tied behind her back and the gag I’d tied around her mouth still in place. I couldn’t. I had to do everything I could to stop it.