Quite the Catch (12 page)

“Stay
fucking down and away from the windows,” he said. “Grab a cushion off the
couch, too.”

Additional
shots blasted through the quiet spring morning. Tina heard more windows break
and a terrible sound as bullets dug deep into the wooden walls of the house. Joshua
returned fire and nailed one of the men—Jim, she thought. He hit the ground
clutching his leg and blood puddled around him. “Throw down your weapons,”
Joshua shouted. “Put your hands in the air!”

Neither
Curley nor Benson obeyed. Instead, they shot back as they moved closer to the
house. Curley fired a pistol from no less than ten feet away and even before
she heard Joshua’s anguished groan, she knew he’d been hit by the sound of a
bullet tearing into flesh. Acting on impulse and with instinct, Tina popped up
and fired the .45 at Curley. Her aim proved true and the slug erased most of
his face. Her stomach sickened and threatened to revolt, although she had no
regrets. He’d been intent on killing her or Joshua, or both of them. She had
killed in self-defense, as her grandfather always taught her. Her concern now was
Joshua.

Tina
called his name twice. After the second time, he grunted. “What?”

“How
badly are you hurt?”

“Who
says I’m hurt?” he said. His effort to sound strong failed. His voice came out
weaker than usual, and harsh with pain.

“I
did,” she said. “Where were you hit?”

“Chest,”
he said and gasped.

Her
clinical training and trauma experience meant she could visualize what he had
suffered.
Think,
she told herself,
think. He’ll be losing a lot of blood, his
lung or lungs may be filling with fluid or on the verge of collapse. Shock will
hit him hard but that’s good, in a way, because for a few minutes he won’t feel
the pain. When it hits, it will be excruciating. He sounds like he’s having
trouble breathing and he probably is.

 
Focused on Joshua, she made a critical error. With
two men down, she forgot about the one still standing. Tina began to crawl
toward the kitchen so she could begin preliminary first aid and use Joshua’s
phone to call an ambulance. Glass crunched beneath her knees and she tried to
avoid cutting her hands as she moved. “Hang on,” she hollered. “I’m coming.”

Joshua
wheezed out the words with effort. “Tina, don’t.”

She
ignored him and crept forward on all fours. A heavy tread on the floorboards
made them creak and she glanced up,
then
shrieked.

“Yeah,
bitch, don’t,” Benson said, mimicking Joshua. His fingers grasped her ponytail
and wound tight against her scalp. He jerked her up to her feet with such force
she thought he would rip out her hair by the roots. “It’s time to say good-bye.”

Tina
struggled and kicked him with her left foot. “I’m not leaving with you, you son
of a bitch. Let me go!”

In
response, he tightened his grasp in her hair and tugged hard. “Yeah, you are.
You’re my fuckin’ insurance. I’m not worried about your lover boy on the floor
in there. He’ll bleed out soon enough, but just in case he called for help,
you’re my human shield.”

Her
fingers clenched into claws and she raked his face, hoping to break the skin.
He yelped and slapped her so hard that her head rang.
“Bitch!”

Although
stars sparkled at the edge of her consciousness, she talked back. “You’re not a
big enough man to take me without a fight.”

Benson
laughed and she shuddered. The sound echoed with evil.

“No,
but I am,” someone said. Tina twisted around to see who spoke. The big man,
broad-shouldered and heavy, stood framed by the open front door. His blue
chambray shirt, complete with a number emblazoned across his left breast,
indicated he must be the fugitive Joshua had been chasing.
What a dumbass,
Tina thought,
too stupid to even change out of the prison uniform.

Grime
coated the shirt with darker streaks and she caught a whiff of a nasty,
unwashed stench. “You can fight me all you want to,
cuntface
,
but I’ll take you with us. And if I want, I’ll enjoy your pussy too. I don’t
usually like no lawman’s leavings, but in this case I got a feeling I’ll enjoy
it a hell of a lot.”

He
marched across the room, a great gorilla of a man, and when he came within
range, Tina spit full into his face. The momentary satisfaction faded when he
drew back one arm and hit her with a meaty fist. She stumbled and almost fell
but Benson caught her, laughing.

“Easy,
Tillman, don’t hurt her too bad or she’ll be dying like the dumb fuck Fed in
the kitchen. We need her breathing to get out of here.”

Her
face hurt where he had struck her but Tina rallied. If they took her, she
probably wouldn’t survive, and neither would Joshua. Although she had been
listening, she hadn’t heard any movement from him for a few minutes and she was
worried.
I have to get to him and soon.

She
thrust one elbow hard into Benson’s gut and caught him by surprise. He doubled
over with a moan,
then
cursed. Tillman took two steps
forward with his fists balled and she braced, ready for more blows.

Instead,
a roar echoed through the small house, loud enough that it drowned out
everything else. Tillman stopped short, swayed with an odd expression on his
face,
then
toppled forward like a felled tree. Tina
jumped out of the way so he wouldn’t hit her when he fell. She failed to
understand what had happened until she noticed the stream of blood running from
beneath his body.
 
Joshua had killed him
with a single shot.

Benson
let go of her arm and started for the door. “Take one more step and it’ll be
your last,” Joshua said. “Throw down any weapons you’ve got.” His voice lacked
volume but she had never heard anything as beautiful. He was alive, on his
belly near the kitchen door. He must have crawled there, with incredible
effort.

The
man halted and thrust his arms up into the air. “Okay, okay.”

He
pitched a pistol and two knives to the floor and stood still.

Tina
rushed to Joshua’s side and knelt down. “Where’s your phone? I’ll call an
ambulance.”

Pale-lipped,
face drained of any color, he shook his head. “They’re coming. Don’t you hear
them?”

For
a moment, she thought he must be delirious,
then
the
wail of many sirens reached her. “I thought you might be dead,” she told him. Her
hands trembled as she ripped away his shirt to check the wound. “How bad are
you hit?”

“Could
be worse,” he told her. Then his eyes rolled backward and he slumped,
unconscious.

Chapter Twelve

The
moment the slug hit his chest, he knew he might be a dead man. Joshua had
flirted with death before but so far he’d won. This time he feared he might not
be as fortunate. The impact sent him reeling and he staggered, almost falling
to the floor. Intense pain consumed his chest, a burning, harsh agony almost
unbearable. Blood gushed from his wound. In minutes, he would go into shock and
if he did, his chances of survival went down. If he could hang on, then he
might make it until backup arrived with more firepower and medical support.

Joshua
struggled to focus on basic first aid. He had to slow the bleeding as much as
possible. There were kitchen towels in one of the drawers, he recalled, and if
he could reach them, he could use them. Before he tried to move, he heard
another shot and with effort, he turned to peer through the window. He watched
the man called Curley drop dead to the ground, and knew no one but Tina could
have fired the fatal shot.
What a woman!

Pain
buckled his knees and he half-crawled to retrieve the towels. The faster his
blood flowed from the wound, the more his head whirled and he weakened. His
vision dimmed as he pulled the dishrags out of the drawer and folded several
together to form a thick pad. Joshua pressed it against his chest and scooted
until his back rested against the cabinets. He pressed down hard on the wound
and the cloth turned bright with blood.

Shock
began and the pain lessened but he shivered. His body turned cold and his mind numb.
He concentrated on stopping the blood flow and although he failed, he slowed
it. And he fought against the rising brightness and the swirling dizziness to
hear what happened next. He prayed, not to God but to his spirit kin for help,
and sought the strength of his Cherokee ancestors to keep him functioning. Although
it wasn’t dawn and he wasn’t greeting the morning, he concentrated on the words
of the morning song as a focus.

When
he realized Benson had entered the house, he steeled himself to act. He
listened as Tina lashed out at the man and cringed when he heard the
unmistakable sound of a slap. Tina’s spunk and sass might carry her through, he
thought, but might also enrage Benson into further violence. Joshua wanted to
call out a warning but he saved his failing strength. He would have one chance,
no more, to save her if he could.

Her
defiance pleased him and scared the holy bejesus out of him too. He thought she
might hold her own, until he heard Tillman’s voice. His heart faltered and he
feared more for Tina than his own ebbing life. He knew the fugitive’s history,
had read every detail of the multiple murders the man had committed, and he’d
tracked him. Tillman’s size alone would defeat Tina and if they took her, he
would kill her the moment she wasn’t useful any longer.

Darkness
threatened to consume him, to jerk him into its silent depths, but he resisted.
Joshua shut his eyes and summoned every ounce of strength, each scrap of
fortitude he could. He drew on his ancestors and swore he heard one of the old
ones whisper the truth into his ear.

He
loved Tina, cared for her far beyond the passion they had shared. He connected
with her and would do anything for her sake.
Love is a power, too,
the voice in his head told him. So Joshua
tapped into it, his last desperate attempt to garner enough strength to act.

A
rush of adrenalin roared through his body and fueled it. Joshua’s fingers
tightened around the butt of his
Glock
. He hadn’t
lost his grip on the gun, not even when he got shot, and with a superhuman
endurance, he shifted position. He crawled the few feet to the doorway without
notice. None of them, including Tina, expected him to be able enough to act. She
bought him the moment he needed when she elbowed Benson and he managed to hold
the pistol steady as he aimed, then fired.

Years
of training, an inherent gift for marksmanship, and pure need came together. He
didn’t miss. The shot pierced Tillman’s heart and the man died on impact. Benson
stared at him and he used his last reserves to order him to halt. If Benson
didn’t obey, Joshua had no idea what they would do because he clung to
consciousness with effort. But the criminal reacted as he’d hoped and shot his
hands high into the air.

Everything
wavered around him but Joshua held on, waiting for Tina. When she reached his
side, he tried to lift his hand to take hers but he failed to move it. She
spoke and he answered, although he wasn’t sure what he said. He struggled to
see through the blinding white consuming his vision. He wanted her face to be
the last thing he saw because he figured he’d die now. She babbled something
about calling an ambulance and he opened his mouth to tell her it was too late
and that he loved her, but he heard the sirens.

“They’re
coming,” he told her.

Her
voice reached his ears, words of concern, and he managed to tell her it could’ve
been worse, when the darkness won. He slid into it, unwilling, and still
struggling. Joshua tried to tell her that he loved her but he couldn’t. His
hand found hers in the last seconds of awareness and he gripped tight.

“Don’t
die,” he heard her say. “Joshua, hang on. I love you, you stupid, brave,
wonderful man. I love you.”

I love you too
, he thought, and nothing more.

Time
ceased to matter and he drifted through the midnight blackness. There was
nothing, and then mist appeared. Grey and thick, it surrounded and enveloped
Joshua. He sensed comfort in it and realized after the first moments that he
had no pain. He could walk and move, so he did. He walked through the fog and
emerged into a familiar place, the stomp dance grounds near Tahlequah.

The
familiar cadence of the ancient songs soothed him and he yearned for more, so
he came closer. Most of the mist evaporated and he saw the line of dancers. His
grandfather, younger than Joshua could remember, led them and sang the chant. Behind
him, her hands resting on Grandpa Lost Deer’s waist, was his grandmother. Joshua
smiled, his heart glad at seeing them again, their faces calm and pain free. He
watched as the dancers snaked around in the patterns of the dance, and heard
the unmistakable sound of the turtle shell rattles the women wore attached to
their ankles.

Each
dancer was someone he knew who had died. Two of his uncles, an aunt, his cousin
Benny who died in a fiery car wreck when he was sixteen, his father, a
great-uncle, and his great-grandmother were all present. Tribal elders had a
presence too, and one of his favorite high school teachers, Miss Gary, was
among the dancers. They were in the classic man-woman-man-woman order and he
wanted to join them.