Her paintings were behind Susan. They’d been slashed.
“Run...”
A whisper. So faint she almost didn’t hear it, but Juliana’s gaze jerked toward that hoarse sound.
Gunner. On the floor. Covered in blood.
But then Susan leaped toward her and grabbed her hand. “You’re not running anywhere.” That knife flashed toward Juliana.
When you attack, use the strongest part of your body.
Juliana grabbed for the knife with her right hand even as she slammed her left elbow into Susan’s stomach. Susan stumbled back and grunted in pain.
The knife skittered across the floor.
“What the hell are you doing?” Juliana screamed because she didn’t want to believe what she was seeing. Susan couldn’t be in on this mess.
But then Susan yelled and launched herself at Juliana. The two women hit the floor, rolling in a tangle of limbs. Susan was the same size as Juliana, and the woman was fighting with a wild, furious desperation.
But she wasn’t the only one desperate to win this battle. Juliana felt more than a little desperate, too.
“Should have...died at the...cemetery...” Susan snarled as she slammed Juliana’s head into the floor. “Should have...”
Juliana shoved her fingers toward the other woman’s eyes. Susan shrieked and leaped back.
“You set the car bomb?” Juliana lurched to her feet as she tried to prepare for another attack.
Only, Susan wasn’t advancing on her. Instead, she’d run toward her father’s open safe. As far as Juliana knew, the only thing her father had ever kept in that bedside safe was a gun.
Juliana dived for the knife. It was close. She could get it and attack—
“Don’t move.” Too late. Susan had the gun. She had it aimed at Juliana. And the woman was...smiling.
Gunfire echoed from outside and Juliana tensed, but Susan just kept staring at her. “I went to so much trouble...had everything timed perfectly. But you wouldn’t get in the car.”
Juliana licked her lips. Susan’s back was to the large picture window in her father’s room. Gunner was to the right, lying in a growing pool of blood. The knife was a light weight in Juliana’s hand, but what good would it do against a gun?
Not much.
“Why?” Juliana asked with a shake of her head. “Why are you doing this?”
More gunfire erupted from below. A man’s pain-filled cry was abruptly cut off.
“Is Guerrero forcing you to help him?” Juliana pressed. She lowered the knife to her side, wanting Susan’s attention to shift away from the weapon.
But Susan just laughed. “The bomb was me. You think you know me? You don’t know anything about me or where I come from. Aaron didn’t know, either. He thought I was just another one of the brainless whores who’d be happy jumping at his beck and call.”
From the corner of her eye, Juliana thought she saw Gunner shift just a bit.
“I’ve seen things...done things...” Now Susan’s laugh held a desperate edge, but the gun in her hand never wavered. “I’m not going back to nothing because of you!”
“Susan, I haven’t done anything—”
“It all goes to you! The money. The house. Everything. He promised, but I saw the will—it’s all yours.”
Was this what it was about? Money? “Charles died in that bomb blast.”
“Am I supposed to care?” Susan lifted the gun. “I have to look out for myself. If I don’t...who will?”
There was no more gunfire from below. Was that good? Or bad? Logan, be safe. “I don’t care about the money. Take it.”
“I will.” Susan’s smile was grim. “When you’re dead. When everyone thinks that Guerrero took you out, I’ll take the money.” Now Susan did glance back over her shoulder toward that big window.
Susan had led Guerrero’s men to the house. The woman might have even given them security codes to get past the gate and inside the house. She had access to everything there, so getting those codes would have been easy for her.
“Guerrero wanted the evidence....” Susan’s gaze flickered back to the slashed paintings and hardened. “I thought I could give it to him.”
Juliana was guessing she’d thought wrong.
“Doesn’t matter,” Susan muttered. “He can still take you. Take you, kill you, and this mess will be over!”
Juliana inched forward. Slowly. Carefully. “You think he’s going to just let you walk away? That’s not how he works. No one walks away from him and survives.”
Susan’s smile twisted her lips. “That’s okay. Susan Walker was never meant to live forever.”
The woman was insane. How had she hidden this craziness for so long?
“Susan never existed, but Becky Sue Morris...Becky Sue existed—and she’ll keep existing. Becky Sue is going to wire the money to her accounts. She’s going to take all the jewelry. Take everything she can.” She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip and glanced back at the window. “Becky Sue...knows how to survive. How to wire a bomb. How to put a price on someone’s head so they get taken out.” Her breath heaved. “She learned early how to do all of those things.”
And she learned how to blend in and become someone else. Juliana stared at the gun and realized she didn’t have a choice. Susan or Becky Sue or whoever the hell the woman really was—she wasn’t going to let her escape.
Death wasn’t an option. Juliana wasn’t ready to die. She had too much to live for.
She took another step forward. Susan didn’t even seem to notice that only a few precious feet separated them now.
Can I move fast enough?
She’d have to because there wasn’t another option.
But first, Juliana knew she had to distract the other woman. “He’s going to torture you before he kills you. Just like he did with Ben.”
Susan was sweating. “Shut up.”
“That’s what he does. Sure, he’ll kill me. That’s a given, but he’ll kill you, too. You won’t get the money or the house or anything because you’ll be rotting in the ground with me.”
Another step.
Susan’s eyes were wild. “Shut...up!”
“Why? I’m already dead, right? What more are you going to do to me?”
“I’ll kill your Logan.”
No, you won’t.
“Some men just don’t see the attack coming. They think we’re weak, helpless...all because of some tears and a little blood.”