Page 50 of The Bastard Heir
Pulling his gun from its holster, he bolted after her, rushing around the corner and into the alley. Derringer stood there, looking dirty and disheveled, his hair a bright beacon of white in the shadows, with her in his arms, the muzzle of his Colt .45 held against her temple. She gripped his forearm, her knuckles white as she tried to loosen his hold, but he only tightened his grip. Castillo’s blood ran cold. He’d faced down enemies before and always managed to find a cold focus as he did it. It allowed him to stay calm and measure the outcomes of his choices before he acted.
Not this time. This time he couldn’t see past the one outcome that scared the life out of him. Carolina’s lifeless body lying on the dirty ground. Just thinking of it made his fingers numb.
“Stop where you are, Reyes.” Derringer’s voice was cultured, calm despite the fact that they were in an alley holding guns.
Castillo stopped, but he took in their surroundings, looking for a place someone could hide. The alley was littered with debris, a broken chair, a forgotten weather-beaten sign advertising an apothecary leaning against the brick wall, but there was nothing large enough to hide a man. He couldn’t see the roof, though, so he figured that’d be the most likely spot for someone to be hiding, ready to unleash a hail of bullets. Derringer had probably been staked out all night waiting for his chance.
Damn, Castillo should’ve been more prepared instead of being so infatuated with his wife. He’d put her at risk because he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She would die in an alley because of him.
“Put the gun down nice and slow.” Derringer’s tone was that of a man meeting a long-lost friend in a saloon. It didn’t seem right. Something about this was very, very wrong.
“I can’t do that, Buck. You need to let her go.” Castillo gauged the distance between them to be about nine feet, give or take. He’d be able to reach Derringer quickly, but not before the man had a chance to pull the trigger.
“Put that gun down or I’ll shoot her right now.”
Derringer didn’t betray impatience in his voice or demeanor. Castillo’s only clue was the subtle tightening of the man’s finger on the trigger. In the split second it took for Castillo to make that assessment, he realized that Derringer held everything that had ever mattered to Castillo in his arms—his hopes and dreams for a better future. Because if Castillo walked out of that alley without her, he wouldn’t care about the hacienda or restoring the ranch to a profit. He only cared about Carolina. He wantedto know that she walked the Earth, that she was happy and cared for. In that moment, his quest for vengeance became a thing of the past.
“Don’t hurt her, Buck. Please.” His voice shook a little and he sent up a silent prayer. Take me, not her. Please, God, not her.
Derringer smiled, and then he laughed a little as if the joke was too funny not to. “Oh, I’m going to hurt her, Castillo. I’m going to hurt her so badly that she’ll wish she was dead long before I get to that part.” His eyes were cold under the brim of his bowler hat. He looked like madness. The wind picked up as if prompted by his words and blew through his shoulder-length, bright white hair.
Castillo’s mouth went dry, but he knew if he dropped his gun he’d lose any chance he had to free her. “If you plan to kill her anyway, I’ll keep my gun.”
Derringer glanced down at Castillo’s gun and back up before cocking his own gun. The metallic click sent a cold chill down Castillo’s spine.
“Figured you’d prefer the fast way.” Derringer grinned and the muscle in his hand flexed.
Castillo couldn’t get a clear shot, but that didn’t matter. He only had a second to act, so he launched himself forward, planning to plow into them. The bang of a gun firing sounded loud in his ears as he fell forward. Carolina screamed.
Castillo landed hard on his knees, stunned that he couldn’t move forward and uncertain about what had happened. Derringer crouched before him, blood spewing from behind the hand that cradled his nose. He groaned like an old man in the throes of death, but Castillo couldn’t figure out how that had happened. Castillo hadn’t shot the man. Derringer had shot. He’d seen the flash of Derringer’s gun firing. The man still held that gun loosely as he cradled his nose.
The ringing in his ears faded enough that he could hear Carolina calling his name. “Castillo!” She landed on her knees beside him. He tightened his grip on his gun and put his other arm around her, trying to get her behind him. A searing pain shot through his side, like he’d been stabbed with a hot branding iron.
But he couldn’t pay attention to that. Derringer was coming back to his senses, lowering his hands to show a nose that was slightly askew and spewing blood. Castillo realized that Carolina must have hit Derringer in the nose as he’d fired, likely breaking it from the amount of blood that poured out. The man raised his gun, but Castillo raised his first and fired three shots to Derringer’s chest.
Then it was over. Dear God, all these years his life had been put on hold as he searched for this man…and it was over. Derringer fell backward, his arms splayed out wide. Castillo could only stare at him and wait for the triumph to find him. It didn’t. It was over, and he felt relief, but there was no feeling of victory. Just a grim certainty that he’d accomplished his goal and a glimmer of satisfaction that Derringer would never hurt anyone else.
Dimly, he became aware of the strength leaving his body, but he couldn’t focus on it. Carolina was at his side and her arms went around his shoulders. “Carolina,” he said her name over and over as he gathered her in his arms. “Forgive me. I didn’t know what was important until I saw him put that gun to your head. Please forgive me.”
She clutched him back briefly and then tugged away to look down at his stomach. “We need to get you inside.” She looked down the alley toward the street and then the other way.
“Carolina,” he said again, reaching for her face. His arms felt like lead weights and he didn’t understand why, but he needed to hear her forgive him. “Forgive me, please.”
Her eyes shone with absolute terror when she looked at him. “Yes, yes, of course I forgive you.”
He smiled and noticed how soft her skin was beneath his palms. “I love you.” Suddenly, his knees wouldn’t hold him anymore and he fell forward. She moved with him to brace his fall. The horrible pain shot through him again, twisting him up on the inside.
“Cas!” Zane called to him, but his voice sounded far away.
“Down here!” Carolina called back. She was hovering over him now, worried lines across her forehead. “Keep your eyes open. It’ll be fine, but keep your eyes open.”
“What’s happening?” He should know. His ears still rang with the gunshot. Dammit. He’d been shot. The knowledge had been there all along, but he’d only just now allowed himself to recognize it.
Panic overtook him that her train was due to leave soon and he might not see her again. “Don’t go, Carolina. Don’t get on the train.”
“I won’t,” she assured him as she tore off a length of her skirt and wadded it up. “I’m staying here to take care of you.” She pressed it against the wound and he nearly came out of his skin from the pain.
Zane ran up beside them followed by Hunter. “Let’s get him to Glory’s. She has a room, and it beats that damn butcher they call a doctor at the hospital.”
