Page 128 of Tasting Fire
“Why else would Cash have turned down that football scholarship?”
“Fine,” Emmy sighed. “You’re right. It’s actually a treasure chest. Studded with diamonds and rubies. Sometimes it even doles out gold coins.”
When they got out of this, he was going to kill Emmy himself. A madwoman had her on the business end of a revolver. And for that gun to do the damage it had done to the band director, it was filled with hollow-points.
Maybe Emmy was just trying to kill time, waiting for the SWAT team to show up.
Cash eyed her closely, looking for signs that she might be going into shock or melting down.
Hell, the rise and fall of her chest was at the respiration he would expect after a brisk hike through the woods. She planned to get herself out of this somehow.
“Cash could’ve been somebody,” Mrs. Southerland said, her voice full of venomous hatred.
“For the record, Cashissomebody. He’s excellent at what he does, he genuinely cares about the people in this community, and he follows through on his promises.”
Mrs. Southerland snorted. “Everybody shows you what they want you to see. He’s probably just like my husband, rotten to the core. After all, they both chased a piece of ass and ran out on their responsibilities.”
“I don’t understand. I thought your husband died. You…You had a funeral for him.”
“A memorial. And a body isn’t required for that. Just plop a cheap vase down on a podium, and people take you at your word for it.”
This little chat might’ve interrupted Mrs. Southerland’s escape, but it wasn’t doing much to get Emmy out of this dangerous situation. She needed to know she wasn’t alone. Cash swallowed twice because he wouldn’t get a second chance. One more swallow to clear the dread out of his throat. Then he let loose the high clear sound of a whippoorwill.
To Emmy’s credit, she didn’t blink, didn’t flinch. But she’d heard, he knew it because she shook her head, slowly, but Cash knew it was meant for him. She was waving him and the rest of the team off.
“This has all been so dramatic today,” she said to Mrs. Southerland. “I honestly didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Are you laughing at me, you little bitch?” Mrs. Southerland leaned in and smashed Emmy on the side of the face with the gun.
Fuck. That had been hard enough to break her cheekbone.
Emmy’s head angled down with the blow, but when she raised it again—slowly and carefully—hell was blazing in her eyes. The dual surge of love and fear that shot through Cash almost took his legs out from under him.
“Get inside that refrigerator.”
“So I can make it easy on you? I don’t think so,” Emmy darted forward and kicked the other woman in the side of the left knee.
Mrs. Southerland cried out and teetered off balance. Went down hard on her hip, but her grip on the gun was steady and her aim on Emmy was, too. “Just try to run. I’ve been practicing with this ever since my husband left me. I’ll blow a hole through your back that will leave you without those molehills you call tits.”
Emmy had to see that he was angling around to approach Mrs. Southerland from the back, but her attention on the woman didn’t falter. “You claim that this is all about Cash and how I supposedly ruined his life. What do you think it’ll do to him when he finds out you were the crazy witch who killed me, the woman he loves? Has always loved.”
“He’ll finally move on with his life. Maybe give me grandchildren.”
That little nugget stopped both Cash and Emmy—total flash freeze.
Cash could hear the almost silent approach of the SWAT team and he breathed into his mic, “Hold position. Situation currently unstable.”
“What?” Emmy finally wheezed out.
“He would never get serious with any other girls because of you. Not that Chelsea Black was any great prize, but I could have convinced him to dump her. After all, I want my grandbabies to be handsome and smart. That’s why I had some hopes for you years ago.”
“Are… Are you saying… You think… You do know Cash isn’t your son, don’t you?”
Cash couldn’t see the woman’s eyes, but if their gleam was anything like the fervor in her voice, they were scary as fuck. She thought he would give her grandkids.
“He has parents,” Emmy told her. “Always has.”
“That mother of his didn’t care about her children.”
