Dance With Me - By Hayden Braeburn Page 0,29

giggles. “I love him, but I still don't trust him with coffee.” She slumped. “God, I hope he's okay.”

Carolyn and Charles scooted over to flank Kat. “He's strong, that boy,” Charles told her. “He played his championship tennis match with broken ribs, he—”

Carolyn grinned as she cut her husband off mid sentence, “Tell her why his ribs were broken, Charlie.”

This was a story she hadn't heard. “What happened?”

“It seems he forgot he was a tennis player, and ended up in a not-so-touch football game. They were down a player, and Mase stepped right up without even thinking.” He slapped his knee. “Played good, too, till he was thrown to the ground by Tanner Jamieson.” He shook his head. “Our Mason is tough, I tell ya.”

“You've been friends with the Jamiesons for years, haven't you?”

“Sure have. Booker and I play poker once a month, and Juliette and Carolyn used to watch each others kids.” He chuckled. “'We lucked out there, with four kids to their six.”

The Jamieson talk had her thinking about Carter, which made her think about her trial. She turned to Cassidy. “I know it doesn't matter, and we have more important things on the table right now, but please know I love your brother and I don't deal drugs.”

Cassidy sucked on her teeth for a second while she contemplated her brother's fiancee. “I have to remain impartial, Kat. The evidence is the evidence, and Carter is a great attorney.”

“We believe you, dear, even if Cassidy isn't allowed to,” Carolyn assured with a squeeze of Kat's shoulder.

“Thank you. I appreciate the support,” she told Mason's mother with a grateful smile.

Alec interrupted the cozy picture they made, phone in hand. “Sean and Dylan are there, and they've just reported gunshots.”

~*~

Dylan recognized Priscilla's screaming from his position outside. How did so much noise come from from such a small person? The good news about her tirade was she likely hadn't killed Everett—otherwise, she'd have no one to shriek at.

Sean crept toward the window. He had to see what was going on before he could do anything. Briefly he wondered what Black was doing on the other side of the cabin and dismissed it. Black could handle himself and had proven to be very useful. The crunching of gravel pulled his attention. The detectives were headed their way.

~*~

Priscilla stopped mid-sentence in disbelief. She swore she heard a car coming down the gravel road. Tightening her grip on her pistol, she turned her head and heard nothing. Her ears had to still be ringing from shooting. There was just no way anyone could have found them—she had planned so well, so meticulously. She gave her body a shake. No one had found them, she was just paranoid and mad as hell at Mason. She could wait. She'd waited sixteen years, she could wait a little while longer.

Mason didn't know how much time passed as he watched Priscilla's heels pace back and forth in front of the bed. When she finally stood still, it was his only chance. He exploded beneath the bed, hurling it at Priscilla. It caught her in the middle, sending her flying and knocking her on her ass. He wasted no time bolting for the door. He didn't know where he was going, but he sure as shit wasn't staying where he was.

He was getting away! All the waiting, all the plans; everything was falling apart! She didn't think, just pulled the trigger over and over until she was slammed into the ground by a large, hard body. It couldn't be Mason, she had shot Mason, he had to be dead. She fought against her attacker but it was no use. She had failed. Her life was ruined. Her life was over.

Sean pinned the woman to the floor while he wrestled the gun from her grasp. He'd counted four shots she had discharged before he could tackle her, and with her shaky shooting he wasn't sure where any had landed. Finally, he was able to wrench her arm behind her and plant a knee in her back, subduing her until the police could arrive on scene. He wondered if Dylan had caught up with Everett in the woods, and what was taking them so long. It sounded like the detectives had been only minutes away before all hell broke loose.

~*~

Dylan's side burned where the bullets had penetrated. He wished he'd worn kevlar, but he hadn't expected to be shot at when he'd dressed that morning. He let out a low