necessary.
I hold up my gun, showing it to Dixon, and set it down on the ground. Dakota’s eyes are huge, pleading with me to stop, but my choice is made. I love Dakota more than anything, including my life. It shouldn’t come down to that, not with my brothers and my dad hiding in the woods, waiting, but it’s the truth. I stride ten feet into the clearing and sink to my knees. “Take me instead, Dixon.”
He’s unsure, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind. His gaze wanders around the perimeter of the tree line, then falls back to me. “I know Wyatt is drunk at a poker game, but where’s your old man?”
“He just had heart surgery. Coming out here would kill him. It’s just me, Dixon. And we both know it’s not Dakota you want. It’s me.”
Dakota whimpers, and the sound might as well have a blade attached to it because it slices through me. I want to look at her, reassure her with my gaze, but I don’t dare break Dixon’s stare. I need him to believe me and step away from Dakota.
“Say I decide to let you switch with her, what happens to the bomb?”
“I disarm it.”
Dixon laughs. “I’m not stupid.”
“I’ve told you before, I don’t think you’re stupid. You keep the gun on me while I disarm it. Then Dakota goes free and I’m yours.”
Dixon fixes a long, hard stare at me, then steps out from behind Dakota. My tense, coiled muscles relax a fraction, and my knees bear the weight of my relief.
He pauses on the top step, then keeps going.
One.
Two.
Three.
He’s clear of the house, almost dead center between me and Dakota.
Three shots ring out.
Dixon falls.
I’m up off my knees, running for Dakota. I thunder up the steps and sink to my knees before her. Her sobs are muffled, and it tears me apart.
“I’m here baby, I’m here. It’s all going to be okay now.” I look into her eyes briefly, then study the bomb taped to her chest. Just as I thought, it’s rudimentary. Day one of EOD training taught me—
Dakota makes a noise like a strangled cry, and I look up. Her terrified gaze is trained behind me.
Another crack fills the air and Dakota releases a muffled scream.
My ears ring. I blink against the sound and look quickly. Dixon is crumpled at the base of the stairs.
I turn my attention back to Dakota. “Just hold still,” I instruct. When I ran to my cabin earlier, I’d grabbed everything from the bag I keep in the top of my closet, the same bag I haven’t touched in five years. My flashlight, my binoculars, and my clippers. I reach into my pocket and pull out the clippers.
I know this is the moment when I’m supposed to think of the woman and her child. The nightmare I’ve been having for years should be replaying front and center in my mind.
And maybe I’m thinking of them a little. But really, all I see is Dakota. My inability to save the others has no bearing on this moment. Maybe, if I hadn’t gone to the meeting, I’d be reliving my nightmare. But I’m not.
I snip the correct wire cleanly, and without hesitation. The clippers slice through the duct tape and I remove the deactivated bomb.
Warner appears beside me. He takes the bomb from my hands without a word and walks into the ramshackle home.
I reach around Dakota, untying the gag and flinging it aside.
Her relieved sobs fill the night air. I hold her face, press my cheek to hers, and rock with her. Her tears mix with my own. The adrenaline that fueled me slowly subsides, and I feel crushing exhaustion.
“Wes.” My dad’s voice sounds like gravel. “Cut her free and get her away from here. Take her to the house and let Mom look her over.”
I turn to look at him. He’s standing beside Dixon.
“But what about—”
His face is hard. “Do as I say, Son.”
I understand. Whatever is about to happen next, he doesn’t want Dakota around for it. I follow his instructions, cutting the tape at her ankles and ripping it off her jeans. Her wrists are trickier, because he taped her skin. I cut it, but leave the tape on her skin. When she’s free of the binding, she throws her arms around me. She rubs my neck, the back of my head, her fingers trickling over my face and chest.
“I know, I know,” I soothe her, wrapping an arm