Page 69 of Lone Star Country Protector
Blakely stayed quiet. She couldn’t reach for the vase on the table without being caught. The voice was too close. Her heart pounded the inside of her ribcage. She could only hope the bastard couldn’t hear it.
White-hot anger filled her as she clenched her fists. How could he?
As he came close enough for her to hear his breath, she hit the call button and burst from the covers. “Greg! You sonofabitch! I’m not Bethany.”
He dove for her, ramming her in her midsection as voices sounded in the hallway. She crashed into the nightstand, cracking her head against the hard wood. The vase tipped over, slamming into her head first and then the tile floor, where it burst.
“What the hell?” Dalton’s voice cut through the room as the light flipped on.
A nurse rushed into the room beside him.
But it was too late. Greg had pinned her to the floor and had a piece of glass to her throat.
“Back up or I’ll cut her carotid artery,” Greg demanded. The wild look in his eyes said he was desperate and would kill her if need be, despite the look of apology he shot her. “This isn’t supposed to happen this way.” He rocked back and forth, his elbow jabbing her in the chest as he held her down.
“What then? What was your plan? Kill your sister-in-law? For what reason?” Then it dawned on her.
“You were a decoy,” he said. “Bethany is the one who is supposed to die.”
“For what reason?” Blakely asked, distracting Greg whileshe prayed everyone else was coming up with a plan. “My sister has nothing to give.”
“Life insurance,” Bethany said from behind them. Her tone said he’d drained her of any love she might have had for him over the years. “You asked me to sign the policy that you took out a few months ago. If everyone thinks my sister is the real target, and I’m accidentally killed, you’ll get to play the grieving husband role. Is the money for your mistress?”
“I didn’t… I don’t…” Greg stuttered.
“Was I that awful of a wife that you wanted me gone? Dead?” Bethany asked. Now Blakely could hear the hurt.
If only she could somehow wiggle free or get hold of a piece of the vase to turn the tables on Greg. Could she make a move without triggering him?
The desperate look in his eyes, his actions—this wasn’t the Greg she’d once known. How could she have missed the signs of his mental decline?
Busy.Being busy was a lousy excuse, even if it was true.
“I owe people,” Greg finally said. “And they’re coming for me if I don’t pay up. These aren’t the kind of people who let missed payments go unnoticed.”
“How is that possible?” Bethany asked.
“You have no idea what it’s like to try to keep up your lifestyle,” he practically spat out. “I tried to be a good husband. I worked but you were never satisfied.” There was nothing but anger and accusation in his tone now. Like a teapot boiling over.
Blakely made eye contact with Dalton, who gave an almost imperceptible headshake. He didn’t want her to make a move.
Could she buck Greg off without causing him to slice her throat?
“You. You wanted the world handed to you on a silver platter.” Greg’s voice was almost hysterical now. “And you didn’t care enough about me to see that I was drowning.”
“Is this about your mother?” Bethany asked, panicked. “Because I tried to help with her when she was sick.”
“She was all I had,” Greg said.
“That’s not true,” Bethany argued. “You had me and you have a son. Remember Chase?”
Greg’s wild eyes searched the room. “You’ll never find him.”
Oh. No.
“Did something happen to Chase?” Blakely managed to ask as Bethany’s knees buckled and her legs came out from underneath her. Before she could hit the floor, Dalton scooped her up.
“I’m going to set her on the bed, okay, Greg?” he asked, taking a slow, measured step inside the room.
