Page 102 of Adoring Delaney

He’d gone into great detail about what each one was named, the caliber of bullet the shot, barrel length, all sorts of crap I wasn’t interested in. Probably why beyond knowing how to handle a weapon safely and how to shoot I knew nothing about guns. What I really wished I’d paid attention to was the capacity of ammunition a revolver held.

I would count the holes in the cylinder if she’d quit swinging it around in front of me, but she wasn’t stopping and I could hardly focus, my temple and cheek hurt so bad. And I could feel blood dripping down my face.

I was on my knees in front of Derek Lowe’s tombstone.

Natalie had been blathering on about how I’d murdered her brother and how she was going to kill me. I knew she was going to do it. Her eyes had gone dull and dim. There was something missing, like, maybe her soul. Whatever it was, I wasn’t waiting for her to explain why she’d snapped. I didn’t care. I went for the gun, we struggled, and she’d fired two shots. Then she’d swung the gun and hit me in the face with it. Pain bloomed and I dropped to my knees.

Now I was staring at the man’s grave who’d killed my baby.

Beloved son and brother.

Fuck. That.

Drug dealing killer was more like it.

I continued to scan the granite and I understood why Natalie decided today was the day she was going to turn full-out loony tunes. Today was her brother’s birthday.

I wanted to spit on his grave and claw the dirt with my nails until I reached the box he’d been buried in so I could dump his rotting bones in the dumpster where they belonged.

“Get up!” Natalie screamed.

I got to my feet, feeling less vulnerable now that I was standing.

Tires screeching drew her attention back to the street and I didn’t hesitate—I lunged.

We landed on the ground with a thud, she was under me and I started swinging. I think I missed the first few times because I was still trying to get my balance. I finally landed a punch to her jaw and my knuckles felt like they broke. I didn’t care. I didn’t care she was screaming, or was that me? I didn’t care she had a gun in her hand, I didn’t care she’d threatened to kill me.

I was blinded by rage and fueled by despair. Her brother had taken one child from me. She was not going to take this one as well.

I was raining fury and hell to her face when suddenly I was pulled back, up off Natalie, and strong arms wrapped around my chest, turning me.

I’d almost lost sight of the crazy woman when she lifted her hand—the sun’s rays reflected off the metal and I screamed.

“Gun!”

Two very loud cracks rang out and I was twisted away from the gruesome sight.

My lungs burned as I tried to fill them with much-needed oxygen.

“Breathe, Delaney.”

The tone of Carter’s voice snapped me to attention and I locked eyes with…not my Carter. His eyes were the same color they always were. A shade of green that was so unique there was no word to describe them. I’d always thought they were beautiful, but when he’d looked at me, from the time we were teenagers on, they’d turn soft and sexy and I knew just by the way he looked at me he adored me. I knew it like I knew my name. Like I knew it in my heart. In my soul. In my bones.

“Carter,” I whispered and he let go of me.

“You need to go to the hospital.”

What was happening? His expression was murderous, all hard edges, and fury. A look I’d never seen, not from anyone in my life, and most certainly never from him.

“Okay. Take me.”

There were sirens wailing in the background, my dad was talking to me, Carter’s dad was saying something. Uncle Levi and Uncle Clark were both on their phones, but none of them mattered. Nothing could pull me away from Carter’s bottomless stare.

“Delaney—”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

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