In two labored motions, he cut deep parallel channels along the top of Montez’s head that connected to the slit across his forehead. He could now tear a huge rectangular piece of Montez’s scalp back.
Grangeland took a step a forward. “I don’t blame you for wanting to hurt him, but let us prosecute him for murder.”
“This doesn’t concern the FBI.”
“Is that all I am to you now? The FBI?”
“Grangeland, no, I–I didn’t mean it like that.”
Holly softened her tone. “She’s right, Nathan.”
“Don’t-”
“Don’t what? Deny you your revenge?”
“This isn’t about revenge. It’s about justice.”
“You’ve never lied to me. Are you going to start now?”
He squinted, but said nothing. The truth? Was it absolute? Black or white? Where did it blur?
“So that’s it,” she continued. “I’m too late. You made up your mind a week ago. Then, go ahead. I won’t stop you. But you’ll have to kill him in front of me and Grangeland.”
He clenched his teeth.
“Go ahead. I want to see it. All of it. I want to see you tear his scalp back. I want to see you cut his throat. Listen to the gurgling of his lungs. Everything. I want to see the
“Holly,
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth?”
“What do
Her voice softened. “I know that giving into hatred won’t heal you. Just the opposite.”
“You know what he did to me.”
“Yes, I do.”
The temptation to tear Montez’s scalp back and slit his throat overpowered all else. It raged like a thirst, a thirst he knew well. He would’ve sold his soul for a drink of water during his crucifixion. With every crack of the whip, every jolt of electricity, and every slice of his flesh, he’d sworn to get revenge some day. He’d dreamed of this moment thousands of times. That day had arrived. Montez must die. And why shouldn’t he? After what he’d done to Kramer. The Dalton family. The bastard tried to kill Harv. Shot him when he was defenseless. Human life had no value to Montez. None.
He gripped the knife tighter.
It would be so easy. So satisfying.
But what about Holly and the life they’d started together? Was he going to throw that away? Was killing Montez worth sacrificing that future? Her future?
He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Nathan, love is stronger than hate.”
Conflicting emotions assaulted him again. His desire to kill Montez had never burned so strongly. How could they blame him? How could anyone on the planet blame him? He thought back to Director Cantrell’s visit to his hospital room. She’d asked him to consider the bigger picture when and if the time ever came. He owned Montez’s life. Was it satisfying enough to know he
He could almost hear Harvey telling him this wasn’t a CIA sanctioned mission and he didn’t have a green light to take out the target. Thorny would say the same thing.
And what if Montez
The fork in the road branched in two directions.
One toward light.
The other toward darkness.
With clenched teeth, he tilted his head up, closed his eyes.…
And asked God for help.
He saw them then, in his mind’s eye. Autumn colored leaves. Descending like harbingers of truth. The leaves fell by the hundreds. Then by the thousands. Surrounding him in random but beautiful patterns. They brushed his skin, healing savaged flesh from a past that no longer controlled him, no longer held his fate.
He loosened his grip on the knife.
A lot stronger. He’d been so misguided all these years. Bitterness? Hatred? Revenge? Deep down, where only the truth lived, he knew they weren’t just words. They’d become prison bars. He thought about the words inscribed on the FBI seal-words that Holly honored. Fidelity. Bravery. Integrity. And they weren’t merely words. They were tenets of the truth, a truth he’d lost sight of. He could never face Holly again if he gave into his dark nature. Hatred and rage might be permanent parts of his soul, but they didn’t have to control him.
He slammed the door on the
“You’re a coward, McBride.”
Grangeland stepped forward, brushing Nathan aside with her body, and delivered a solid haymaker to Montez’s bloody jaw. “And you’re unconscious.”
Nathan backed away, allowing Grangeland to take over.
Holly hugged him. “It’s over, Nathan,” she whispered in his ear. “You don’t have to fear him anymore.”
“I didn’t mean the things I said. I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t.”
Her words echoed again.
Holding Holly, he sensed something he hadn’t felt in a long time.…
He felt safe.
Chapter 48
Nichole Dalton heard a voice. A man’s voice.
For a split second she saw Montez’s grinning face and bloody gloves.
She remembered being rescued by a tall man with long scars on his face and body.
She opened her eyes but couldn’t focus. Her chest and stomach stung. Where was she?
The plastic surgeon. She’d been taken to a plastic surgeon’s office. She remembered lying on her back and feeling cold, remembered feeling an IV inserted into her arm. There’d been classical music in the background. And some kind of chemical smell, alcohol maybe? She couldn’t remember anything beyond that.
“Nichole, can you hear me?”
She turned her head and saw Dr. Reavie.
He took her hand. “I’ve got a couple of girls who want see their mother.”
“You found them! They’re safe?” She tried to sit up. Fiery pain made her wince. She didn’t care.
“Don’t sit up. I’ll elevate the bed for you. You’re recovering from anesthesia. Everything went well. You have more than a thousand sutures, though.”
“My girls!”
“They’re right here.”
Nathan felt insecure in a wheelchair, but it beat the alternative-a pine box. He watched the two girls rush to their mother’s bedside and hug each other. Nichole’s joy overpowered her pain. She closed her eyes to the tears
