The sirens were screaming down the street now, and an anger unlike any other I’d ever known tinged everything a bloody-murder red.
I shoved her out the window onto the roof. “I love you. Now get the fuck out.”
“I love you too. Don’t end up in jail,” she whispered.
I shut the curtains on her just as a boot landed a hard kick to the door. It flew open on the second kick, rebounding off the wall as I hurried across the room and flattened myself against the wall.
The barrel of a gun with a silencer came into view. “Come out, come out, wherever you—”
I brought my arm down on his in a fast, sweeping arc. My forearm connected with his. I grabbed him and dragged him farther into the room.
“Son of a bitch!”
“More like son of a bastard,” I snarled back as we wrestled for the gun.
“Your dad was a good man. You were just a no-good brat who thought he was better than everybody.”
“I was better than him. You took everything from me once. I won’t let it happen again, old man.” I threw an elbow to his jaw, and he howled in pain. The gun tumbled to the floor, and I kicked it toward the bed. “You hurt her. You threatened her, burned down her library, and you made her bleed,” I roared over the sirens.
His eyes were a bloodshot blue and desperate. “You should have stayed out of this. Neither one of you needed to get involved.”
“And you should have gone to fucking jail instead of me, asshole. I’m going to make sure everyone who’s ever heard your name knows exactly what kind of man you are.”
He pushed me back two steps, and I let him. I heard feet pounding on the stairs. But this was between him and me.
“Better get those hands up so the chief can cuff you. I’ve been looking forward to this perp walk,” I taunted.
In a move impressively fast for an asshole of his age, Wylie reached behind him and pulled the second gun. But I was already on the move.
He pulled the trigger just as the first cop hit the second floor. I dodged to the side and kept coming like a freight train.
I drew my fist back and let it fly. It connected with his jaw, and Wylie Ogden crumpled like he was made of paper.
The gun was right there. I could pick it up and put an end to him, to all the pain he’d caused over the course of his lifetime. But I was better than that. I was better than men like Ogden and my father. I had Sloane to prove it. I had a lifetime with her ahead of me, and nothing was going to endanger that.
Nash entered the room, weapon drawn, vest on over what looked like a decent suit. “Suspect is down,” he reported into his radio as he eyed me. “We good?”
I nodded curtly. “Yeah.”
“Thank Christ. I didn’t want the paperwork on this.”
“You might want to let him wake up before you personally slap the cuffs on him. He put your name on the list, not Dilton.”
“Fucker,” Nash muttered. “He’s lucky Lina’s not here. Hey, you’re bleeding.”
“Fuck.”
“Lucian!” A blond and pink blur flew at me, and Sloane launched herself into my arms.
“Go easy on him, Sloaney,” Nash instructed. “He’s shot.”
“He shot you?” She tried to wriggle free.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded.
“I’m going to kill him,” she announced, heading for the door.
I nipped her around the waist and pulled her back.
“No, you’re not. I don’t want our first time post-vasectomy reversal to be in a conjugal trailer.”
She growled in response. Laughing, I carried her to the porch swing where EMTs converged on us.
“She wouldn’t let us fix her up until you came out,” the first explained as he began to clean Sloane’s wound. She winced and I anchored her to my side.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” I asked gruffly.
“Only when I smile, which is going to suck for tomorrow when two of our best friends get married.”
“I hate when you hurt,” I confessed.
“I’m not too fond of you having a gunshot wound, big guy.”
I dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“I have bad news,” Sloane said, plucking at the skirt of her dress.
“What?”
“Besides my dress being ruined, it looks like one of the shots went through the window in Dad’s study and hit the lower branch of the cherry tree. It broke when I climbed down.”
It looked as though we all would be carrying the scars from this day.