Feeling as if he were crawling, he made his way down the winding road, five miles to go, three, two, one… When he was a quarter mile away, he pulled off the gravel and cut the engine, unwilling to give Jesse any warning that he was there.
He moved swiftly through the dark night, his flashlight guiding him, and he didn’t hesitate as he approached the abandoned hillside house. A light shone from the porch, and he saw the door open and Jesse stumble out, a blood-soaked shirt covering his upper half.
He hadn’t spotted Bryson, who was just outside the glow that the porch light was casting.
“Where are you, bitch? I’m going to slit you from your neck to your…” Jesse started coughing and couldn’t complete his threat, but Bryson had no doubt what the slug had intended to say.
Jesse tripped over his own feet, and flew off the porch, and then Bryson heard a groan at the same time Jesse did. It came from behind the shed. Jesse turned his head, and Bryson, watching the scene unfold before him, stepped from the shadows as Jesse held up a gun and staggered to his feet.
“Stop now, or I’ll shoot,” Bryson called out. He’d never wanted to just fire his weapon so badly, but he knew he had to give a warning, or he was just as bad as the scum he’d be firing upon.
Jesse turned slowly in Bryson’s direction, and was close enough now that Bryson could see the wild look in the man’s eyes. Instead of dropping the gun, Jesse pointed it. With no hesitation, Bryson aimed and fired.
Jesse screamed and fell back flat on the ground, his kneecap shattered. Unbelievably, his hand rose and he attempted to catch Bryson in the gun’s sight.
Bryson aimed again, and this time the bullet putting a hole straight through Jesse’s hand, and his gun flew ten feet away. The man started whimpering and sobbing. “Please don’t kill me. I give up. I give up!”
Bryson stepped over to his gun first, kicking it farther away from Jesse, then he approached the man cautiously, not taking it for granted that Jesse didn’t have another weapon on him.
“You have the right to remain silent…” Bryson began, while twisting the man’s arms behind his back and cuffing him. “I would love it if you just did us all a favor and bled out right here,” he added in a voice of deadly calm at the end of his recital of Miranda Rights. Then he searched his clothes and found another gun in the back of his pants. Bryson tossed it toward the other gun after emptying the chamber.
“You have to get me help. That little bitch stabbed me,” Jesse whimpered as snot ran from his nose.
“Yeah, you tell all your buddies how that petite woman got the drop on you, Jesse. You know, they really love cops in prison. They like to make you their little bitch. You won’t have to worry about rough sex anymore, ’cause you’re going to get plenty of it.”
That swine would never lay a finger on Misty again. Walking carefully over to the shed, Bryson announced his approach. “It’s me, Misty — Bryson,” he called out as he circled around the dark building, pulling out his flashlight and shining it on the ground.
When he found her in a heap against the outside wall of the shed, he rushed to her side, terror almost making his muscles seize up. “Misty?” he called softly, dropping to his knees and feeling for a pulse. It was strong. Her eyes fluttered as he checked for injuries. When she didn’t complain as he touched her neck and back, he carefully lifted her onto his lap. “I’m right here, baby. I’m so sorry I let him get to you. I broke my promise,” he told her, his throat choking with emotion.
“Bryson?”
“Yes, it’s me. Help is on the way.”
“I knew you’d come.” Her eyes opened and she looked up at him with relief.
He could barely see her from the glow of the flashlight lying next to them, but what he could make out sent a whole new level of fury through him. He wanted to march back over to Jesse and beat him until he wasn’t breathing.
He lifted his hand and gently caressed her face, tracing around the smooth skin on her temple where a nasty purple bruise was forming.
“I’m sorry for getting mad, Bryson.”
“Aw, no, baby. You were right to get mad. I was wrong. But none of that matters right now. All that I care about is getting help for you. With this little stunt, Jesse won’t be able to worm his way out of trouble. You won’t have to hide ever again,” he promised, leaning down and kissing her forehead.
“Thank you, Bryson. I’ve been so scared, but I’m okay. I beat him. I got away.” A couple of tears of relief drifted down her cheeks.
“You are so strong, baby, so very strong,” he said. “I knew you could do it. You’re a fighter — and you don’t give up.”
“I didn’t give up. I just…my head hurts so much, and I think my ankle is hurt pretty badly.” She moved to snuggle closer to his warmth.
“I should have been here sooner, Misty.”
“No. I’m glad…” She had to take a deep breath. “I’m glad I did it. I beat him. I’m not going to be afraid anymore,” she said, and she gave him a weak smile.
“That’s right. You have always amazed me,” he told her, and he ran his fingers through her hair.
“I’m really cold, Bryson.”
Damn. He felt like a complete jerk for not thinking of that. Careful not to jostle her, he removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders as he heard sirens screaming down the drive.
“Help is here. I’m going to stand up and bring us out into the light so we don’t spook them,” he said.
He rose carefully, keeping her cradled against him, and he was walking toward the front porch as the first cop car screeched to a halt a few feet from Jesse’s trembling body.
“I’m the one who phoned you. My name is Special Agent Bryson Winchester,” Bryson called out when the officer jumped from his cruiser with his gun drawn.
“Walk slowly, sir,” the police officer said, “and don’t make any sudden moves.”
Bryson walked to the car. “My badge is inside my coat pocket, on Misty here.”
The officer took the coat carefully and found the badge. “Thanks for your patience, sir. Is this Jesse Marcus?” he asked, indicating the man lying on the ground and groaning.
“Yes. He’s been stabbed in the abdomen, and shot in the kneecap and hand,” Bryson said just as the ambulance pulled up.
The paramedics rushed out and Bryson took Misty to them. One attended to her, while two more rushed over and looked at Jesse.