“Logan.” Reed nodded toward the east. “He’s gone after Bryson.”

  “Good. That’s good. We need to call 911 and let them know we’re out here. They can send in reinforcements.”

  The clouds had finally passed by and the harsh moonlight shone down on the clearing again, giving Reed an excellent view of the marshal. For a hostage, Mike looked pretty damn healthy. Relaxed too, although that could be explained by being rescued. Reed’s gaze wandered down to the marshal’s wrists.

  Not one mark. If he’d been tied up and wriggled out of ropes, then Reed was a monkey’s uncle. Marshall Mike Dayton was the leak.

  Adrenaline rushing through his veins, Reed lifted his gun just as Mike straightened up, holding the dead man’s firearm. It was a standoff and only one of them was going to win.

  “The obvious question. Why?” Reed asked.

  Smirking, Mike lifted the gun higher so it was pointing directly at Reed’s chest. “For the excitement. Do you know how fucking boring my job is?”

  Anger churned in Reed’s gut and he didn’t bother to hold in the snarl that escaped his lips. This asshole was looking for shits and giggles while the body count piled up?

  While the woman Reed loved was lying in a goddamn hospital?

  “For the excitement,” Reed parroted, hardly believing his ears. “That’s some sick shit. People died.”

  Mike shrugged. “People die every day. They probably lived useless lives anyway, going to work every morning and doing some stupid job. Then they go home at night and eat dinner and watch TV, maybe fuck their wife if they’re lucky. But probably not because they’re losers. They’re numb. Completely numb. But not me. I’m wide awake.”

  “This is being wide awake? Following a narcissistic sociopath on a killing spree?”

  Mike smiled and held out his arms wide. “What can I say? I’m living my best life.”

  “How did you even get with Wade? You didn’t work at the prison and you were never on any of his transfer details.”

  “That’s true.” Mike chuckled, clearly enamored by the story. “It’s funny how life works out. I was bored and looking for excitement when I was contacted by a guy who had been in Wade’s cell block. I was in a mentoring program for the guy’s son while he was in prison.”

  “Sounds like you were a lousy mentor.”

  “It’s the luckiest thing I’ve ever done. I’ve never felt more alive than when I was on that roof shooting down at all of you, watching you scurry like rats in a gutter.”

  Mike had been the one that shot Kaylee. Not Wade. Anger and fury rushed through Reed’s veins with a white-hot heat that almost brought him to his knees. He wanted to rip Mike into tiny pieces with his bare hands. He wanted to make the crooked marshal suffer and pay for his crimes. The justice system didn’t have a punishment fit for what Mike had done to Kaylee.

  It was only a split second but that’s all that Reed needed. For a mere moment Mike was distracted with his celebration, reliving his glories as one of Wade’s henchmen and Reed didn’t hesitate. With a roar of pure unadulterated rage Reed tackled the younger man to the ground, knocking the air out of both of them but he didn’t care. The blood rushed in his ears as his world narrowed to the here and now and his vision filled with red, never giving the dirty lawman a chance. Straddling the marshal and pinning him down, Reed landed one punch after another, hearing the cracking of Mike’s nose and feeling the warm spurt of crimson on his hand and sleeve.

  He still didn’t stop, his fists next going after the marshal’s soft gut until all the fight leaked from his adversary and he lay limp on the ground. Mike would live to face the real justice system, of course, but he’d be doing it with a broken nose and a couple of cracked ribs. Retrieving Mike’s gun from where it had been dropped, Reed then reached for the satellite phone to call Tanner and the others.

  “That was for Kaylee.”

  Now he needed to go find Logan and Wade.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Wade might have been an overweight out of shape businessman at one point but that was years ago. He’d slimmed down in prison and in addition to becoming more cold, calculated, and dangerous, had obviously started working out.

  Perhaps in preparation for this moment. Knowing Wade as he did, Logan hadn’t been all that shocked when his so-called brother had broken out of prison. He was never going to live the rest of his life there and he sure as hell didn’t intend to go back.

  Sprinting after Wade in the dark, Logan grunted with the effort as branches smacked at his arms, legs, and head. He’d be scratched and bruised when the sun came up in a little while. Or he’d be dead. That was a possibility, although Logan had – as Reed had said earlier – a hell of a lot to live for. What did Wade have? Nothing. No one loved him and he didn’t give a shit about anyone but himself. That was no way to live.

  That gave Logan the advantage. His will to survive. He wouldn’t give up but Wade wasn’t a man that liked struggle. Even his kills had been relatively easy with victims that wouldn’t put up much of a fight. Wade liked the simple targets and Logan wasn’t one of them.

  Stopping abruptly in a small clearing circled by pine trees, Wade turned around to face Logan. The son of a bitch pointed his gun at Logan. And smiled. Because this was all a fucking game to the bastard.

  So Logan would play. For a little while. Just to see what Wade had planned.

  There the two of them stood about twenty feet apart, moonlight glinting off the barrels of their guns pointed at one another. The clouds had cleared and it was as bright as day. Logan could clearly see Wade’s jubilant expression. The son of a bitch was happy.

  Wade cackled, his grin spreading across his face. “I knew it would be you.”

  I’ll just humor him.

  “Of course, you did.”

  They were both breathing heavily, puffs of steam appearing when they spoke. Wade wasn’t wearing a coat, only a flannel button down over a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He’d either been sleeping in his boots or he’d stopped to put them on when the smoke grenade went off.

  “I did. I knew it would be you coming after me. You know this is between us. We’ve both always known that even when we were kids.”

  Logan doubted that as a child he’d known that he’d be standing here pointing a gun at one of his friends and he also doubted that Wade knew that.

  “We were friends back then. Not enemies.”

  “We’re not enemies now. We’re brothers, Logan. We’re more alike than different.”

  More of this bullshit.

  “That seems to be a subject you’re stuck on, Wade. You want us to be the same but we’re not. I’m not a cold-blooded killer.”

  “Then you’re not going to shoot me? How disappointing. I was sure you would. You’re a Bryson, after all.”

  “I’m not a Bryson. You’re a Bryson. Who killed his own brothers. Why, Wade?”

  “They were evil just like Dad was. It’s in the Bryson blood, brother. You can’t escape it.”

  Wade had become slightly nuttier in the last few days on the run.

  “How were they evil? They didn’t kill anyone. You did that.”

  Wade shrugged. “They might as well have. They lied, cheated, and stole. They were only a fraction of the way from taking a life. I just stopped them before they did.”

  “No one is completely innocent, but I don’t think Lyle would have ever killed someone. He was your little brother, man, and you shot him in the head. That’s some cold shit. Lyle loved you.”

  Keep him talking. Get into his psyche.

  “He hated me for what I did to the Bryson family name.” Wade laughed again. “Can you imagine that? The Bryson family name. As if that’s anything to be proud of. Dad and Uncle George made sure that we would always be keeping our head down, didn’t they?”

  “It’s one thing to be dishonest in business but that’s not equal to taking a life, Wade. What you’ve done is evil. What they did was bad. But there’s no moral equivalence there. One is far worse than the other. You’ve killed innocent people for fun. Because you enjoy it. You’re not killing criminals anymore that slipped through the justice system. You’re doing it because it excites you. Isn’t that right?”

  Wade didn’t argue, instead nodding in agreement. “Yes, the Bryson blood is evil. That’s why you’re here, Logan. To kill me.”

  “I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to take you in. You’re going back to prison.”

  “I don’t think so. Next stop for me is Florence. I won’t go. You’ll have to kill me or I’ll kill you. You’re more like me than you know, my brother. Everyone thinks that you’re a hero but you like killing just as much as I do. You only pretend that you don’t. You’ve wrapped up your murder in righteousness but you and I know the truth, don’t we? You like it. I like it.”

  Logan wasn’t going to argue with Wade about whether he enjoyed killing. He didn’t but his half-brother would never believe it. Even now Logan didn’t want to kill Wade, but he would if he had to.

  “What would killing me accomplish? You’d still be alive. The Bryson evil would still be in the world.”

  Was this some sort of murder-suicide thing? Was that what Wade had in mind?

  “Did you ever hear that story about the scorpion and the frog? The scorpion asks the frog for a ride across the pond and the frog of course says no. He’s afraid of getting stung. But the scorpion assures the frog that he won’t do that. If he did then they would both drown and that doesn’t make any sense. So the frog gives the scorpion a ride and halfway across the pond, he feels a sting on his back. He asks the scorpion why he did it because now they’re both going to drown. The scorpion says, ‘It’s in my nature to sting’.”

  “It’s in your nature to sting,” Logan repeated, his arm getting tired. Wade’s had to be getting tired, too. “That’s the stupidest story I’ve ever heard in my fucking life. Where did you hear that?”

  “Marilyn told me in one of my therapy sessions. I miss her sometimes.”

  “You killed her when she wasn’t any use to you anymore. Which reminds me, is Marshal Amy Sinclair alive?”

  “Sadly no, but she put up more of a fight than the other ones.”

  Jesus, Logan would never get used to the death and destruction this one man wreaked upon the planet. How on earth could they share the same blood and DNA?

  Snapping his teeth together, Logan’s jaw hurt where he gritted them together. “Where is her body, Wade? We have to notify her next of kin.”

  “I don’t remember exactly. Somewhere near your safe house. Strange name…safe house. You were never safe there. I always knew where you were.”

  Now they were getting somewhere.

  “We assumed you had someone inside the marshal service.”

  “I certainly did. Mike has been invaluable letting me know all of your movements.”

  Mike Dayton? Wade spoke of him as if he was still alive. Where in the hell was he?

  Can’t worry about that. Focus on Wade. Reed will deal with the others.

  “Mike can’t help you now. It’s just you and me.”

  “That’s right, it is.” Wade held up his gun, waving it around. “And this is a horrible way to go out of the world. It needs to be you and me. Brother against brother. Fists against fists. What do you say? On three, we both toss these guns aside and duke it out like we used to when we were kids. What did we used to say? Fair and square. Winner take all, Logan.”

  Wade might have been honing his badass routine in prison for the last few years, but Logan hadn’t exactly gone soft during the same time period.

  “We both know who would win. I’m a decorated war hero who has been trained to kill in hand to hand combat in the Army Rangers. You’re some guy that acts tough around the prison yard. The odds are definitely not in your favor, Wade.”

  “I don’t think they’re as bad as you say. Maybe you’re afraid?”

  Logan snorted. “Next you’re going to double dog dare me. We’re not ten anymore.”

  Wade’s smile widened on his face. At that moment he looked more like that man that Logan had known all those years ago, boyish and innocent. “No, we’re not. We’re grown men. Brothers. You’re just like me, Logan. You’re a Bryson.”

  “The last fucking thing I am is a Bryson.”

  Logan’s declaration was like a starter’s pistol at the beginning of a race. It set Wade off roaring like a bear. His gun pointed straight at Logan’s chest, he barreled toward him screaming like a banshee. No actual words. Just a war cry that could be heard for miles.

  With reflexes that had been honed in battle, Logan didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger twice, hitting Wade both times. One in the head and one in the heart.

  Wade Bryson, vigilante serial killer, seemed to waver on his feet after the first bullet but his legs gave out when hit the second time. His expression wasn’t one of shock or surprise but happiness.

  Happy that Logan had shot and killed him.

  In his mind, that makes us the same. We’re not. The difference between Wade and me? I didn’t want to do it and he did.

  Wade didn’t want to go back to prison so he’d made what looked like the ultimate sacrifice. Himself. Logan knew it was bullshit. This was all to prove a point.

  Wade had failed spectacularly. There were too many ways to count in which they were different. He never did understand it because he wasn’t capable.

  So many deaths, so many lives ripped apart because Wade had so many things to prove. In the end, he only proved that he didn’t care about anyone but himself. Now he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

  Sucking oxygen into his starved lungs, Logan stared down at Wade’s prone body. In the end, Wade had received what he’d wanted. He’d gone out in blaze of gunfire. This would make the papers and then, God willing, Wade and his reign of terror would be forgotten.

  “I called Tanner. The team will be here soon. Cops too, I would imagine.”

  Reed.

  Logan turned to see his friend, looking alive and well.

  “How long were you standing there?”

  “Long enough.”

  “You had every reason to kill him and you had the shot.”

  “I did,” Reed agreed as the sound of a chopper filled the air. The cavalry was here. “But you had things in hand. Mike was the leak, by the way. He’ll definitely live to make a statement.”

  Logan felt tired. Exhausted. He wanted to curl up with Ava and sleep for days. He wanted to kiss her and hold her and tell her he loved her. He wanted to hold Colt and Brianna and then watch them grow up. He wanted to hold Ava’s hand for the rest of his life.

  “I could use a beer. How about it?”

  Reed chuckled and rubbed his jaw. “Naw, I think I’ll head back to the hospital. Kaylee’s going to need me. As it is I’m going to have to explain this bruise.”

  And Ava would need Logan. That’s how he was different than Wade. He was loved and he loved in return. There was nothing better.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kaylee leaned heavily on Reed’s arm as he helped her into the front door of Ava and Logan’s home in a quiet suburb outside of Seattle. The location was ideal for her long recovery – close to hospitals and doctors but not smack dab in the middle of the bustling city.

  Ava hovered nearby, her arms outstretched in case Kaylee decided to do a somersault or something crazy like that. “We can set you up in the guest bedroom or in the living room on the recliner. Are you thirsty? I can get you some food. Or hungry? I can fix something.”

  Colt and Brianna were looking at their mother as if she’d lost her marbles babbling that way. Kaylee, for her part, thought that her friend was being very sweet if a tad too overwrought.

  “I think I’d like to sit in the living room if you don’t mind. I’ve been lying down far too much these last few weeks.”

  Although the hospital hadn’t coddled Kaylee for long. As soon as they could, they’d had her up and walking the halls of the hospital even when she still had her IV in. She hadn’t been too happy about it, either. It had taken so much effort to take even a few steps that she’d be exhausted and hurting for a long time afterward. Her new reality was that every little action took effort and would for awhile longer. The doctors said she was healing quickly but it was still going to take some time before she was one hundred percent.

  Her husband’s strong arms helped lower her slowly into the soft leather chair. A sheen of sweat had popped out on her upper lip and the back of her neck and her abdomen was sore. It had been a long drive from the rural hospital she’d been in originally to Seattle. Reed had made her as comfortable as he could, but she hurt and needed a couple of ibuprofen. The pillow that had become a much-needed accessory was placed on her stomach. She used it when she needed to cough, sneeze, or even just turn over in bed. Reed had dubbed it her teddy bear. Today she’d used it as a buffer between herself and the seatbelt.

  Hovering. Everyone hovered around her as she was going to explode into a million little pieces at any moment.

  Heck, maybe I will and the doctors just didn’t warn me.

  Dropping a kiss on her forehead before straightening, Reed turned to help Logan with the luggage.

  “Do you need anything?” Ava asked again, anxiety in her voice. “Anything at all?”

  “Just to sit and relax a bit. Why don’t you sit down, too?”

  “Easy, baby,” Reed said, reaching down for the lever on the side of the recliner. “I’m going to help you stretch out a little, okay?”

  Kaylee nodded gratefully and almost sighed audibly in relief as her legs were lifted and her torso angled back. Being folded up was the worst thing for her surgery incision but every day she was getting better. It hadn’t hurt that this handsome son of a gun had been there by her side twenty-four-seven. He’d been her rock and she’d clung to him. Funny how now she could hardly believe that she’d doubted his love or commitment. He’d shown it in so many ways these last few weeks.

  The living room and kitchen were one big room and the island was covered with flowers and plants, balloons, and actual teddy bears, not just soft pillows. Ava followed Kaylee’s gaze and smiled.