“If there’s anything you need, all you have to do is ask. Anything. Even money.”
“I know. Thanks, man.” He pushed off from the wall and adjusted his duty belt. “I’d better get a move on. I’m on patrol, and I’ve been here a while. Thanks again, and anything you need, let me know.”
“Will do.”
When he disappeared down the hall, Luke rested his head back and sent his gaze skyward.
Lord, help Brent and his mom. Cancer’s a hard thing. Also, Lord, please give Megan comfort and help June heal. Give me the strength to find this killer and protect the innocent.
Luke continued his conversation with God while he waited. There was so much going on, not just with the case but also in his personal life. He didn’t know where the relationship with Megan was going. He cared about her, but could they really get beyond their past? Wouldn’t his actions—keeping the truth of Wade’s struggles from her and his role in handing over the evidence to the sheriff—always linger between them?
In his mind, the answers were obvious. Yes. His own relationship with his father was proof that second chances never provided a fresh slate. But his heart…his heart longed to ignore his common sense.
Megan emerged from the hospital room. Her shoulders were curved inward, and she looked pale. Luke closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. There wasn’t much he could do to ease her burden, except provide comfort and prayers. He intended to do both.
She rested her head against his chest and sighed. “I can’t control it, but I want to will her into getting well. Does that sound strange?”
“No. You’re a fixer. You see something wrong and you want to make it better. It’s frustrating when you can’t. I struggle with the same thing. But, Megs, you’re doing everything you can.”
“I know. The rest is up to God.” She tightened her arms around his waist. “If I haven’t said it enough, thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through all of this without you.”
The woman made him feel ten feet tall. If he could prevent an ounce of hurt coming her direction, he would do it.
“I’m your friend. It’s my job to hold you up.” He shifted, reaching into the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a package of jelly beans. “And provide comfort snacks.”
Her eyes lit up, just as he’d hoped, and she surprised him with a quick kiss. Luke’s heart took off like a racehorse. He was tempted to lean in for another, but they were standing in the middle of the hospital hallway.
She narrowed her gaze at him, and her gorgeous mouth twitched. “Did you buy these for me, or were you craving the red ones and I’m the only person you know who will eat the rest?”
He groaned. “You always uncover my plan.”
They both laughed, and she opened the package. “We make a good team, Luke.”
“We do, Megs. We definitely do.”
He wrapped an arm around her neck and snuck a red jelly bean out of her bag. She protested and slapped his hand away but was grinning from ear to ear. The elevator ride was short, and as they approached the main exit, Luke swept his gaze over the parking lot. It was late and darkness had fallen swiftly.
Megan’s hand wrapped around his elbow, and she slid up close to him. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just being cautious. Keep holding on to me and let’s move quickly to the vehicle.”
Several of the parking-lot lights were out, casting deeper shadows in certain areas. Luke had specifically parked close to the front. As they passed a couple on the sidewalk, he gave them a nod of his head. Cold wind rattled the awning.
He halted. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and he scanned the parking lot again. There. A man sitting in a truck. Barely more than a shadow, but he was there. Luke’s fingers drifted toward his gun.
The driver must’ve realized he’d been made because the truck’s engine revved and the headlights flipped on. No, not headlights. His brights. They were designed to blind Luke, but he’d anticipated the action and averted his gaze in time. He pushed Megan behind him, keeping his body between her and the truck, even as his feet propelled them backward toward the safety of the hospital.
What was the plan? To run over them? Or to shoot at them?
Luke kept his breathing steady as he unsnapped his holster. His gaze flickered from the truck to assess the parking lot in quick snaps. No one else was there, thank goodness. He didn’t want innocent bystanders caught in the middle.
Tires squealed as the truck bolted out of the parking spot. It was black. Clean, but the same style and design as the one that the shooter had used this morning. Luke noted the license plate and looked for any decals.
His heart jumped as the truck whipped through the parking lot. He pushed Megan harder toward the corner of the building and they took cover as the vehicle passed them. Luke got a clear view of the driver.
Chad Dickerson.
Fifteen
Every day since Megan had arrived in town, the need for her blood pulsed through him. He’d almost had it today.
Almost.
He parked the truck in the garage and went inside, shrugging off his jacket before pouring a glass of whiskey. The liquid burned a path down his throat. Alcohol numbed the urges and took off the edge. The rifle sat on the table, ready to be cleaned. His fingers followed the line of the barrel. The cool metal chilled his skin. Megan’s face had been in his scope, his laser guiding the perfect path to take her out.
And then he’d missed.
His hand tightened around the glass, the jagged edges of the crystal biting into the soft flesh of his palm. Some of the best hunters in the world missed shots, but these stakes were so much higher. For the first
