Chapter Twenty-two

Owen had one thought—to protect Brynn and to make sure he didn't get Ruby killed in the process.

Francine might not have killed Howie, Trent, and McKinney, but she was sure as hell in a killing mood right now. She was firing at both Alice and Brynn, alternating shots between them, and she was smart enough to stay behind the cover of the door.

Alice screamed in pain, and Owen figured that meant she'd been hit. He couldn't see her, though because she had dived to the side of her Jeep. Good. That might keep her from being shot a second time.

Owen moved, trying to put himself in a position to get a clean shot to take out Francine, but then he heard another sound he hadn't wanted to hear.

Brynn.

She gasped in pain, and he saw her fall to the ground next to the van.

Hell.

She was down, and Francine must have realized she could go in for a kill shot now because she started to move out from her SUV. Owen and Ruby moved, too, coming out from cover so they could get the shot they needed to stop her.

Then, the whole sonofabitching situation went south.

The driver's side door opened, and Marlie came out, staying partially hidden behind her door. She had an assault rifle, and she clearly knew how to use it. She started firing toward Ruby and him. They had no choice but to drop to the ground, but Owen wasn't giving up. He began to crawl his way over the broken glass toward Brynn and the van.

"Marlie killed Trent," Ruby shouted. "Did you know that, Francine?"

"Liar," Francine yelled back, totally dismissing that as a possibility.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ruby lever herself up. Putting her head right in the possible line of fire. She sent a shot Francine's way, no doubt to try to prevent the woman from getting any closer to Brynn.

"I'm not lying," Ruby insisted. "I just got the report. Call SAPD for yourself and find out. It was Marlie's DNA on the mask of Brynn that was used when Trent was murdered."

"That's not what happened. She's trying to get you to turn against me," Marlie snapped, yelling to be heard over the gunfire. "Don't listen to her."

"Make the call," Ruby pressed. "She used your credit card to buy that mask to set you up, but she bought others. Maybe even one of Trent so Carlton would think Trent had attacked him. He didn't. It was Marlie."

Owen hoped that Ruby was getting through to the woman, though he had no idea what Francine would do if the truth actually sank in. At the moment, she wasn't his priority, Brynn was. She'd come too far, gone through too damn much to be killed.

"Did you kill Trent?" he heard Francine ask.

"Of course, not," Marlie insisted. "I love him, and despite what that bitch Alice said, he loves me."

"You don't believe that, do you, Francine?" Ruby went on. She was moving, too, coming up behind him, probably to get into position so she could stop Marlie and cover him.

Good. Because Owen needed her help right now.

"You don't believe that," Ruby repeated. "In fact, you ordered Marlie out of your house because you thought she was guilty. What did she say to convince you to come here and try to kill Brynn?"

"She made me see the truth," Francine shouted. "Marlie made me see that Brynn is the enemy, and that we should stop her together."

"Marlie made you see a lie," Ruby countered. "There's proof she killed him."

Francine made a sound of outrage. "Did you kill Trent?" Francine demanded, and there was shock and anger in her tone next. A lethal mix.

Owen kept crawling, kept listening to Marlie deny that she'd been the one to murder Francine's son, and he finally reached the sidewalk next to the van.

And he saw Brynn.

His heart dropped to his knees because she was bleeding. She'd been shot in the shoulder. He hurried to her, but Marlie must have seen him move because some shots came his way.

Ruby dealt with that. She returned fire, and while Owen couldn't see the results of what she'd done, he believed Marlie must have darted back behind cover. There was a pause in her shots before they continued again.

Owen used the voice command on his phone to call for an ambulance, but he knew the EMTs wouldn't be able to approach with an active shooter—correction active shooters on the scene—because at that moment he heard Francine start firing again, too.

"Enough of this shit," Owen muttered. "Hang on, Brynn," he added to his niece.

He darted to the end of the van, dropped down on the ground, and took aim at the only part of Marlie that wasn't protected by the SUV door.

Her legs.

And he fired, sending a double tap of shots right into her.

Marlie's scream was louder than even Francine's gunfire, and she dropped down. So did Francine, and she was howling as well. It took Owen a moment to realize that Ruby had shot her in the legs, too.

Finally, there was no gunfire. That didn't mean it was safe because both Francine and Marlie were still armed, and he had to do something about that.

"Keep your hand clamped on the wound," he told Brynn, and he brushed a kiss on her forehead before he raced to the back of the van. "Ruby," he said through the earbud, "I'll deal with Marlie. Try to do the same for Francine."

"Will do," she assured him. "Oh, and be careful."

It wasn't flippant. In fact, it was damn heartfelt, and it would have made him smile had he not been worried about them getting their asses shot off.

"You be careful, too," he told her, and that was all they had time for. Brynn was bleeding and needed help. Hell, maybe Alice did, too.

His plan to stop Marlie meant he'd no longer have cover, but he had to move out into the opening to get a better aim at her. From the front side of the van, he saw Ruby making the same move to neutralize Francine. She was leaving cover as well, both of them walking straight into potential gunfire.

"Put down your guns so the EMTs can get in here and help you," Ruby shouted.

At least the pair didn't start shooting again. That was something at least so Owen darted out into the opening, automatically taking aim at Marlie. She was on the ground, writhing in pain, but she still had a grip on that blasted assault rifle.

"Marlie, toss that rifle aside," he ordered.

"Fuck you," she snarled, and she moved as if to turn it on him.

Owen fixed that by shooting her in the hand. It wouldn't be fatal, but she wouldn't be pulling that trigger either.

Marlie made another of those deafening screams. And she let go of the rifle.

"Don't shoot me," Francine yelled. "I'm throwing out my gun. Don't shoot me," she repeated.

Owen kept moving toward Marlie, but he saw Francine toss out her gun. That didn't mean she didn't have another one though, and he hoped like the devil that Ruby realized that as she approached the woman.

She did.

"Francine, put your hands in the air so I can see them," Ruby ordered, sounding very much like a woman in charge.

Francine did, and Owen hurried toward Marlie. He kicked the rifle out of her reach. Ruby did the same to Francine's gun.

Marlie was bleeding from both her hands and legs, but they weren't serious wounds. They'd been just enough to stop her. Enough to put an end to this.

But the moment that thought crossed his mind, Owen got a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Then, he heard Brynn gasp.

There were also sounds of some kind of struggle. He reeled around and saw her. Not on the ground where he'd left her but upright, and she was trying to get away from someone. Someone pointing a gun at her.

Owen bolted toward her, but he had to skid to a stop when her attacker grabbed hold of her by the hair and dragged her in front of him, using her as a human shield.

Trent .

He was behind her, and he locked her into a chokehold, jamming the barrel of a gun to her right temple.

"Surprise, surprise," Trent taunted.

Well, it was indeed that. And more. So much more. The shock and the rage ripped through Owen, and more than anything he wanted to put a bullet between the asshole's eyes. But he couldn't do that. Not with Brynn's life at stake.

"Kind of easy to park up the road and sneak up on all of you what with this…shitshow going on," Trent drawled. "What kind of fucked up mess is this?"

A bad one, Owen decided. He hadn't heard the vehicle. Hadn't heard Trent. Hell, he hadn't heard much of anything with all the gunfire.

"I told you I didn't kill Trent," Marlie shouted. "It was fake, all a set up so that Trent and I could have a fresh start. I killed those others so there'd be no one alive who could ever put Trent behind bars. This way, we can have a new life together. A life where Brynn would have been blamed for all this shit, and Trent and I could walk away."

Later, Owen would want to know the details of how they'd managed to set that up, but Heather or some other cop or CSI must have helped. Must have. Because the DNA and fingerprint records had been altered to convince everyone that Trent was indeed dead.

"Who's body did the cops find in Trent's place?" Owen had to ask.

"Some loser I picked up in a bar," Marlie proudly admitted. "He was close enough to Trent's height and weight to stand in as his body double."

Yeah, stand in and be murdered in a very brutal way.

"You're alive," Francine blurted, and she would have gone running toward Trent if Ruby hadn't held her back. Despite Francine being shot in the legs, Ruby had to practically muscle the woman to the ground.

"How good is your aim?" Owen heard Ruby mutter through the earpiece.

"Good," he verified. In fact, if this had been an assignment, involving someone he didn't love, he would have already taken the shot.

Owen moved to take aim now, but the sound of a gunshot stopped him cold. For one horrifying moment, he thought that Trent had pulled the trigger. But it wasn't him.

It was Alice.

She'd shot Marlie. Not in the hand or legs either. But in the chest. Marlie slumped over.

Dead.

Trent looked at the lifeless woman who'd killed for him. The woman who'd helped him with this sick plan. And he shrugged.

"Ruby, deal with Alice for me, please," Owen said, not wanting Alice to start firing at Trent and end up hitting Brynn instead.

"Stay put," Ruby warned Francine.

Owen saw Ruby hurry over to Alice, snatching the gun from her hand, and Owen pinned his attention to the abusing asshole. An asshole who had a trigger-quick temper, and Owen needed to push that a bit.

"Hiding behind a woman," Owen taunted, making a tsk-tsk sound. "You must have marble-sized balls to do a stunt like that."

"And a tiny dick," Ruby supplied, aiming for the same banter they'd used on Rocco and his comrades.

"I've had my dick in her," Trent fired back, licking Brynn's cheek.

She cringed, but she wasn't crying. In fact, she'd probably be fighting right about now if she wasn't bleeding.

"And your fists on her face," Owen replied. "Yeah, it takes a little dick coward to punch someone smaller than you. Then, what did you do? You beat her to hell and back, and afterward you ran like a scared little boy, crying and whining to Mama to help you. Please, Mama, please ," he mocked.

That lit some angry fires in Trent's eyes.

Good.

Owen kept pushing.

"You could always point that gun at me," Owen said. "Man to man." He forced himself to chuckle. "Yeah, it sounds sexist, doesn't it, especially with Ruby Maverick right here? She wouldn't hide behind anybody, but then, she's not a mama-whining, sniveling piece of chicken shit coward either. She's everything that you're not."

Trent tried to laugh, but Owen could tell that the dig had gotten to the asshole. So, he continued.

"Man to man," Owen repeated, waggling his free fingers in invitation. "Fist to fist. I'll give you the first three punches. Hell, I'll even tie one hand behind my back, and I'll still manage to kick every inch of your sorry ass. Well, I would if you weren't too much of a coward to try to take me on." Owen laughed. "Too much of a wimp to try to beat up a man old enough to be your dad. That's got to jam up the ego. Oh, wait. No one with a dick as small as yours can have much of an ego."

That did it. The dick insults were usually the straw to break an asshole's back. Trent moved, shifting his position just a fraction so he could point the gun at Owen.

But Owen was ready.

And he fired.

Not one bullet, but two. Right between the asshole's eyes. Owen watched the life drain right out of the sonofabitch, and he crumpled to a heap on the ground.

Owen was certain of one thing: This time Trent Barber was one hundred percent dead.