Bonnie - Iris Johansen [111]
“I know. I know. I won’t let it happen.”
* * *
HOW TO DO IT? SHE HAD no weapon.
He was blocking the way that led to the passage that had brought her here.
No choice. She’d have to take the path that led to the top of the canyon. Perhaps she could find a rock or branch up there to use to defend herself.
“Come here,” Danner said. “Don’t make me come to you. Show me that you understand. It will only be a second, and it will be over.”
Get past him, feint to the left, then run for the passage leading to the top of the canyon.
“I’m coming.” She held his gaze as she took a step forward. “You won’t hurt me? You promise?”
He smiled. “I promise. I’m like you. I only want to make her happy.”
And she believed him, she realized with a wrench of pure pain. Through all his torment and fear, he only wanted Bonnie to be safe in body and spirit. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, too. To bring her home.”
He looked at her in wondering surprise. “But she is home. Who could ever want a more beautiful home? Don’t you see the flowers? You said she— No!” She had ducked under his left arm, bringing her heel up to kick his left kneecap. His leg buckled, and he staggered.
She heard him cursing as she ran toward the path leading up the cliff.
“You’re not supposed to do this. I don’t want you to fight me. Can’t you see I’m doing what’s best for her?”
“No, all I can see is that you’re the demon trying to rob my daughter of what she wants to happen. You’re wrong, dammit.” She had reached the cliff and was tearing up the path.
He was right behind her.
Faster.
She had to go faster.
The wind was tearing at her hair.
The top of the canyon. How far was it, dammit?
She could hear his steps pounding on the stones.
Faster.
Then she had reached the summit.
Weapon. Find a weapon.
A loose rock?
No, there was a branch underneath a scrawny pine tree that was balanced precariously at the top of the summit.
She could hear Danner’s strained breathing behind her.
She grabbed up the branch and whirled to face him.
“Eve!”
Joe was at the top of the trail, running toward Danner, a gun in his hand. A sandy-haired boy was close behind him. “Get away from him, Eve. You’re in the way of my shot.”
But Danner was turning, drawing his own gun, pointing.
“No!” She threw herself forward to grab his gun.
Too late.
“Joe!” she screamed.
Everything seemed to occur in slow motion.
Joe running toward them.
Danner’s finger squeezing the trigger.
And the boy who had been following Joe was suddenly even with him.
“Get away, Ben,” Joe shouted.
But the boy dove in front of Joe, knocking him to the ground.
A bright blossom of blood appeared on the boy’s white shirt.
Dead?
“Ben!” Danner’s voice was hoarse with agony, his gaze on the boy. “Stupid kid. I never meant— Why did you—”
“But you did,” Eve said fiercely. “You probably killed him, Danner.”
“No. No.” He was staggering backward, dropping the gun, his gaze on the boy. Then he whirled and was running toward the trail.
Let him go.
Eve ran toward Joe. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Joe was rolling over and lifting the boy off him. “But Ben’s not. Why the hell did he—” He carefully laid the kid on the ground, his gaze on the blood on the boy’s shirt. “Shit.”
“Who is he?” Eve whispered as she fell to her knees beside them. The boy was pale, and that horrible wound …
“Ben Hudson. He told me where to find you.” He was opening the boy’s shirt and examining the wound. “Dammit, I shouldn’t have brought him.”
“Is he going to die?”
“I don’t know.” He took out his handkerchief and folded it. “I don’t have any idea about his internal injuries. All I can do is try to stop the blood.”
“I’ll do it.” She took the handkerchief and pressed it above the wound. “You call 911 for medical help, then go after Danner.”
“I should—”
“No.” She didn’t lift her eyes from the wound. “Stop Danner. It has to end, Joe. He’s like a wounded animal who will keep striking out and killing until he’s put away. He can’t do anything else.”
“No.” The