Crime & Passion (45 page)

Madeline grabbed her shirt from the ground
and pulled it on. Biting her lip, she walked around the coffee
table and approached Donovan. “I know you’re probably upset, and I
am
sorry.”

This whole scene made no sense. Madeline told
him she loved him last night—agreed to marry him. They shared all
their secrets. They tried to make a baby.

Eric must be Suzie’s accomplice. Somehow he
found a way to force Madeline to do this. That had to be what was
happening...didn’t it? Donovan hated the sliver of doubt tightening
his stomach and making him want to vomit.

He looked past Madeline at Eric. A smirk
lifted the corners of the younger man’s mouth.

“I’m sorry too, partner,” he drawled slowly,
the smirk spreading to a full-blown smile. “I feel bad for you, but
Madeline wants a real man. She wants me.”

Donovan glared at him. “In your dreams.”

“Please don’t fight,” Madeline said softly.
“Don’t make this uglier than it has to be.”

Movement drew Donovan’s eyes back to her.
Madeline twisted the engagement ring on her finger, tugging until
it came off. She took a step toward him and held it out. “Take
this. I wouldn’t feel right keeping it.”

Donovan studied her face. Her eyes were full
of such sorrow, it snuffed out his hope that Eric forced her to do
this. If she was pretending, wouldn’t she try to signal him
somehow?

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again. “I never
meant to hurt you, but I can’t help what I want. You understand,
don’t you? The same thing happened when you planned to marry
Lindsey.”

He cleared his throat. “Don’t do this,
Maddie. Whatever he promised you, you’re confused. I know you love
me.”

She closed her eyes briefly and took another
step forward, still extending the ring. “I’ve been thinking about
that all day. You’re wrong. I
don’t
love you. I made a
mistake.” Madeline looked at his hands, meeting his gaze again
briefly before dipping her attention back to his hands.

Pain ripped through him, feeling as though it
would break him into pieces. She sounded serious. This wasn’t some
sort of twisted prank they had decided to pull or something she’d
been forced into. “Is it that hard to look at me while you break my
heart, Maddie?”

“Maddie?” She snorted. “You know how I feel
about that.” Her brown eyes met his again and she raised her
eyebrows, looking back at his hands yet again. “I do feel bad,
Donovan, but I’m choosing Eric.”

Eric shifted forward on the couch, and
Donovan noticed the man’s gun sitting on the coffee table for the
first time.

“You heard the lady. It’s time for you to
leave,” Eric said.

She didn’t care about being called Maddie
anymore, hadn’t for a long time. He’d been looking for a signal and
she gave him one. Only problem was, he didn’t know if the threat
was only from Eric. If Suzie had planted something in the apartment
that was a bigger threat than Eric’s gun, Donovan had to find it.
He needed to keep Madeline talking, give himself time to figure
things out.

Donovan closed his hand over hers, grabbing
the ring. His best bet was to play along. “Why would you leave me
for him? We’re in love.”

She stroked the inside of his palm when he
pulled his hand away to put the ring in his pocket. Donovan wanted
to sag with relief at that further signal she didn’t mean what she
said.

She stepped back a pace. “There are lots of
reasons I’d rather have Eric.” She turned her head over her
shoulder and made a kissing noise at Eric. “He’s a terrific lover,
for starters.”

It felt like she socked him in the stomach,
but Donovan tried to keep his head on straight. She was acting. Now
was not the time to fly into a jealous rage.

“Madeline, please.” He made his voice high,
pleading. “I need you.”

By the smug look on Eric’s face, Donovan’s
reaction pleased him.

She turned back to look at Donovan, her eyes
falling to his right hip now, where he held his gun loosely. It
finally hit him—she wasn’t looking at his hands. She looked at his
gun. Donovan tried not to react, uncertain what she wanted him to
understand.

“We always fight anyway,” she said. “Like
that trip you want me to go on. Eric promised if I stay with him, I
won’t have to see my twin sister. And I don’t want to go. I wish
you’d stop trying to force me into it.”

What the hell is she talking about?
“Your twin? You don’t...” He trailed off. It would be stupid to
tell Eric she didn’t have a twin.

“Don’t say I don’t have to go now,” she said,
covering up his silence. “You’re only saying that to get me back.
Sometimes I wonder if she’s really the person you want to be with.
You’re always asking if she makes better bacon. I don’t want to see
her and I’m tired of having that discussion with you every
day.”

Bacon...her twin. She meant Madison.
Donovan’s eyebrows rose in surprise before he could stop himself.
Her actions made sense now. Eric wouldn’t make her take a trip to
see Madison if she broke up with Donovan.

“No one’s sending you to Madison,” he
said.

Madeline’s eyes closed and she gave a tiny
nod. “Eric is the
only
person I trust to keep his word about
that.”

She must mean Suzie hadn’t done anything
here. Eric was the only threat.

“I don’t know how to argue against that.”
Donovan gripped his gun tighter. First step, he had to get Madeline
out of the room and to safety. “This is my house now too, though,
so I guess you’re the one who will be leaving. Go pack a bag, while
I chat with your boyfriend.”

“You’re giving up just like that?” Eric leapt
from the couch, grabbing his gun in a fluid motion and pointing it
at Madeline’s back. “He knows somehow. You bitch! You
double-crossed me!”

Donovan shoved Madeline onto the ground as
Eric fired. The bullet tore into Donovan’s stomach, hot lava
ripping through his abdomen.

As he fell to the ground, Donovan raised his
weapon, though he hesitated to open fire on Eric. The last time he
fired his weapon at a person, he’d killed Benny Stark.

Eric turned toward Madeline where she lay on
the ground, his finger on the trigger of his weapon. “You’re dead,
Madeline.”

“No!” The cry ripped from Donovan’s throat as
he fired two bullets in rapid succession.

The force of the bullets knocked Eric onto
the couch. Knowing he probably hit the vest and didn’t actually
hurt Eric, Donovan propped himself up on his left elbow. The pain
from the wound in his stomach grayed out his vision, but he raised
his gun in his right hand. Once his vision cleared, he aimed and
fired again. His bullet tore through the couch right next to Eric’s
head.

The man rolled to the ground. He flipped the
coffee table on its side, concealing most of his body behind it.
“You deserve to rot in hell,” Eric screamed. He sat up behind the
table, pointing his gun at Donovan. “And I’m going to send you
there.”

Donovan took a deep breath and let his
instincts take over. He fired off five shots, aiming for Eric’s
upper chest and right shoulder.

Some bullets hit their mark, ripping through
Eric’s shoulder. His gun fell from his grasp, thudding against the
carpet on Donovan’s side of the coffee table.

A scream tore from Eric’s throat and he made
a grab for his gun with his left hand.

“Freeze!” Donovan yelled, training his gun on
the man’s head. “You move one muscle and my next bullet goes
between your eyes. You know what a good shot I am.”

Eric glared at Donovan, but didn’t move.

Donovan sat up, clasping his left hand over
the hole in his stomach. He tried to ignore the immense pain
tearing through his body as sticky blood coated his hand. He
couldn’t afford to lose the upper hand now.

Next to him, Madeline sat up too. “I don’t
have my phone to call 9-1-1,” she said. “I think Eric did something
to it.”

Donovan shook his head. “First things first,
get his gun and bring it over here.”

“I can’t. I’m afraid of guns.”

“Maddie, we don’t have time—”

“Oh, alright.” She got on her hands and knees
and crawled across the floor.

Donovan held his breath as she neared Eric,
praying he didn’t do anything stupid and force Donovan to fire with
Madeline in the area.

She snatched the gun and backed up quickly,
placing it on the floor by Donovan’s thigh as she visibly
shuddered.

“Good job. Now, get his handcuffs off his
belt and put them on him.”

Madeline nodded her understanding and walked
toward the couch slowly. She stooped down, hidden behind the coffee
table. “I found them.”

Relief flooded through Donovan and he
steadied his aim. Pain caused his hand to tremble as his breath
came out in short gasps. Only a few more seconds and it would be
over. “Put your hands behind your back, Eric.”

Eric moaned as Madeline cuffed him. “You’re
the murdering bastard,” he said through gritted teeth, “yet I’m the
bad guy.”

Donovan didn’t know what he meant and didn’t
care. “Maddie, make sure you get those cuffs tight.”

“That hurts, you bitch,” Eric roared.

“Good.” Madeline stepped back. “Must be tight
enough.”

Donovan set his gun next to him, collapsing
against the floor. Biting back a moan of pain, he placed both hands
over his stomach, alarmed by the amount of blood soaking his
shirt.

Madeline stared at Eric. Blood gushed from
the wounds in his shoulder and he leaned against the couch
awkwardly with his hands bound behind him. Madeline needed to call
911, but she’d have to find a phone first. She was
always
calling 911 these days, it seemed.

“Maddie.” Donovan groaned. “I could use some
help over here.”

She whirled around to see Donovan clutching
his side, red oozing from between his fingers. “You’re hit?”

“He did shoot me.” His voice had a bite of
anger overlying the pain. “What did you think happened?”

“I thought you had a vest on and it just
knocked you down!” She rushed to his side, pulling his cell phone
from his pocket. “I’ll call 9-1-1.”

His face twisted with pain and he groaned,
rocking side to side. “Put the phone on speaker. I’ll talk to them.
You go grab something to hold over the wound.”

Madeline did as he asked, dialing 911 and
setting the phone on the ground next to his head. She raced to the
bedroom door just as she heard dispatch answer the line.

Passing into the bathroom, Madeline hurried
to the sink and grabbed a handful of towels from beneath it. By the
time she made it back to Donovan, he must have finished explaining
the situation because he’d stopped talking and the screen on his
phone was dark. Eric sat moaning, but Madeline didn’t spare a
glance for him. Donovan was all that mattered.

She dropped to her knees beside him. “What
should I do?”

“Get my shirt and vest off and get more
pressure on the wound.” He sucked in shallow breaths. “Hurts like
hell.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he actually hit
you.” Madeline went to work undoing the buttons on his shirt,
though tears blurred her vision. She opened his shirt to reveal his
vest beneath it. Blood soaked the tan material. “How did he shoot
you through this?”

“Only covers vital organs.” Sweat broke out
on Donovan’s forehead and his face turned chalky white. “He hit
below the plate.” His voice seemed to be weakening.

Madeline choked back a sob and wiped his brow
with a clean towel. It didn’t matter how he was hit—he was hit.
“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart. Let’s get this off you.”

With shaking hands, she struggled to unfasten
the Velcro straps at the top of his vest. She forced herself to
stay detached, concentrate on that task itself, not his wound. If
she let herself think Donovan might be seriously injured, she’d
fall apart and be no help to him.

His pupils constricted and he hissed in pain
when she peeled the bloody shirt away from his stomach and yanked
the body armor out of the way. Red leaked from a tiny hole, though
Madeline feared the small wound didn’t reflect the damage he
suffered on the inside.

She grabbed a towel and placed it over his
side, pressing down as hard as she could.

Donovan grimaced and moaned. His entire body
trembled beneath her fingers and his skin turned even pastier.
“God, Maddie! That hurts!”

“Everything’ll be fine.” She tried to keep
her voice soothing, though terror threatened to overwhelm her.
“You’re going to be okay, sweetheart.”

Someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she yelled. “I need help!”

The door creaked open and men filled the
living room, hauling a stretcher with them.

Eric turned toward them. “I’m bleeding. Get
your assess over here.”

Oh, no you don’t!

“No!” She caught the eye of the medic who had
turned toward Eric. “Help Donovan, not him!”

At her words, Donovan’s eyes rolled up into
the back of his head and his body shook uncontrollably.

Two men pushed her out of the way and kneeled
by Donovan’s side.

“Damn, a gut wound,” the one who took over
her position at the towel said. “He might be turning septic. Get
the gurney over here, stat.”

Activity swirled around the room as they
loaded Donovan and raised the gurney.

One of the medics spared a glance for her.
“We’ll do our best.”

His words penetrated the shocked fog in her
brain, destroying the fragile calm she’d maintained. She shoved her
way past the men surrounding Donovan and pressed a kiss to his
feverish lips.

“I love you, Donovan Andrews. Don’t you dare
leave me!”

***

Voices penetrated the darkness. Donovan tried
to open his eyes, but they felt glued shut. A dull ache throbbed in
his side. Though his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth, Donovan
made the effort. “Maddie.” His voice came out hoarse, hardly
sounding like his own.