Chapter Seventeen
She coughed, blood peppering her lips. The force of it shook her body, making her head bump off the floor. A fine layer of perspiration covered her skin, making her shiver in the light breeze.
Raylan shifted his hand, pressing down on the wound as hard as he dared. Bone shifted under his palm. Warm blood trickled over his fingers. She moaned, twisting away from the pressure.
"I'm sorry. I know it hurts," he murmured. He reached around her with his other arm and tugged her onto his lap, sitting her up a little. It eased her breathing a tiny bit. "Talk to me."
"I'm dying. Drowning in my own blood." She smiled and sniffed away tears.
Raylan opened his mouth to speak. She held up a blood stained hand.
"Don't try to deny it. I'm a coroner. I know a fatal wound when I see one." The effort of saying so much made her cough again. "You you think doing bad things makes you a bad person?"
"No," he said hoarsely and bit his lip. "No. I think sometimes good people do bad things because they have no other choice."
Her breath hitched in her chest. "Do think that's what I did?" she whispered.
He brushed his thumb over her pale cheek, smoothing her hair back. "Yes. I think you did what you had to do."
"I'm sorry. I never wanted any of this to happen."
A fresh tear rolled down her cheek. The clouds broke apart outside, sending a beam of sunlight into the room. It brushed across her face, warming her skin for a few short seconds before the clouds blocked the sun again.
Distant footsteps drew his attention, but he kept his eyes on her face. The shadows under her eyes looked like bruises against the paleness of her skin. She reached for his hand, grabbing it desperately.
"I'm cold." Her eyes fluttered closed. She jerked them open after a second, gasping. "I'm scared... I'm so scared."
He clamped down hard on his own emotions, keeping his voice steady with sheer force of will. "I know. It's okay... You're okay."
She blinked, struggling to keep her eyes open. "Tell... tell my mom I'm sorry, and that I love her. Tell her I hope she was proud..."
He smiled sadly, sensing that she was fading fast. "I'll tell her. I promise."
She nodded, eyes closing. "Thank you, Raylan... You're a good ma..." she sighed, body falling limp as she died.
Raylan eased the body off his legs, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. He stared at the half-open doorway with rage in his eyes. "You might as well come in. I know you're there, Chief."
The stocky man stepped around the door. "Aw, such a shame she's dead. She was fantastic in the sack."
Raylan grabbed the gun from the floor, pointing it at the Chief's gut. The other man stared at the gun and laughed. "Are you going to kill me, Raylan?" The chief asked.
"Nope." The taller man shook his head. "Where you're going, you'll just wish I'd killed you."
"Put that thing down. There's no way they'll find you if I'm dead." The Chief turned his back, walking towards the window.
"You killed her, you know." Raylan sighed. "Oh, you might not have put one in her chest yourself, but you killed her all the same."
The Chief leaned on the windowsill, flicking a shard of broken glass outside. "Oh, don't be so melodramatic, son. I didn't do anything. She had a choice, same as anyone."
"That so?" Raylan asked, his voice deceptively soft.
The Chief turned and leaned against the wall. "Yup. I didn't make her do anything."
"So the fact that you're holding her mother hostage has nothing to do with it?" Raylan lifted his eyebrows, daring the Chief to lie.
"She told you about that?" The Chief pursed his lips. "She could've been lying."
"She could've..." Raylan allowed. "But I don't think so. Here's what we're going to do." He pointed at the Chief. "You're going to come over here and open this lock. Then we're gonna walk out of this cabin, nice and slow."
The Chief scuffed his toe across the floor. "And if I don't?"
Raylan laughed darkly. "Oh, there at lots of places I can shoot you where you won't die. How many bullets can you take, Chief?"
The stocky man swallowed hard. "I could just walk out of here."
"You could," Raylan said. "Think you can get across the room before I can put a bullet in you?" He laughed again. "'Cause I know there's no way you're gonna fit out of that window."
"Fine!" the Chief snarled. "Fine. I'll unlock you."
He stomped across the room, dropping to one knee as he slipped the key into the lock on the chain around Raylan's wrist. It dropped to the floor with a heavy clunk.
"Very good." Raylan stood. "Drop your guns on the floor and kick them away." He kept his own gun trained steadily on the Chief's chest. "Back-ups too."
The Chief pulled the shiny revolver from the back of his belt, tossing it across the room. His semi-automatic went next, landing with a thunk somewhere next to the wall.
"Now what?" the stocky man asked.
"Now you cuff yourself and start walking. I'll be right behind you. Don't try anything. I'll put a bullet in you before you even turn around."
The Chief pulled his handcuffs from his belt, securing them around his own wrists. He walked towards the door, pausing before stepping into the hallway. "You gonna walk the whole way back to the city?" he asked.
Raylan shook his head. "Nope. Just to the road. I figure you've got a cell phone on you somewhere."
The left the house in silence. Raylan studied the area as he walked, surprised by the size of the clearing around the house.
"Gonna be a long damn walk if you don't say anything the whole way," the Chief grumbled.
Raylan leaned closer to him. "You don't want me to talk. I might just convince myself to shoot you in the gut and leave you for dead."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The Chief asked slyly, pausing to look over his shoulder at Raylan.
The taller man gave him a shove. "Keep walking."
"You'd enjoy it though, wouldn't you?"
Raylan bit his lip, stifling a dark chuckle. "Not as much as I'm going to enjoy seeing you locked away for what you did. How long do you think you're gonna last in the big house, huh?"