Chapter 71
Well, shit.
Slowly, Bagsby came to his feet, the weapon never wavering. “You know, I liked you. Had plans for you. Then you went and stabbed me in the back.” He tsked. “Bad move.”
Donovan forced words past the lump in his throat. “You’re the stupid one, coming here.” He sidestepped, trying to put some distance between them while thinking of a way to take Bagsby down without taking a bullet to the heart in the process.
His polar growled furiously, battering to be let free to rip the guy apart. Donovan suppressed him by sheer iron will. Only the understanding that he’d never be able to explain the teeth and claw marks on Bagsby’s body held him in check. The last thing he wanted was to give some investigator an intriguing puzzle to solve and end up disclosing the shifter secret in the process.
Patience. Just wait for it.
The beast was too incensed to answer with more than a flash of teeth.
“I’m surprised you’re bothering to soil your hands with me. Seems like you always had someone else doing your dirty work.” Donovan threw down the question, trying to buy time and rattle Bagsby at the same time.
“This is personal. You double-crossed me. Sent me to prison. Without you, the cops had nothing on me. For that, you’re going to suffer a long, painful death.”
“Keep dreaming, asshole. You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re dealing with.”
“Wrong again. I’m the one with the gun.” Bagsby stepped closer. “No one crosses me. No one.” He stopped and glared at Donovan. “This is how it’s going down. You’re going to walk into the kitchen, nice and slow. I’d hate for my itchy trigger finger to end this far too quickly. I rotted in that hellhole prison because of you. It’s time for you to pay up.”
Donovan sneered. “You’re going to kill me, then do it. I refuse to cooperate and sure as hell am not going to let you torture me first. I’m not that idiotic.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I have a friend outside. Before long he’s going to wonder what’s taking so long and come looking for me.”
Bagsby shrugged. “Then he can die, too.”
The thought of TJ’s life in jeopardy sent chills down Donovan’s spine and strengthened his resolve at the same time. “You’re right, Bagsby. One of us is going to die today.”
“It sure as hell isn’t going to be Donovan.” TJ’s gravely words carried across the room from the front door.
Bagsby took his aim off Donovan and put it directly on TJ.
Donovan reacted instinctively. He threw himself into the path of the bullet, felt fire rip along his side. Instantly, he changed course, using his animal’s power and grace to stop, swing around, and bull rush Bagsby. He snared Bagsby’s wrist with one hand and shoved his forearm under Bagsby’s chin with the other. When Bagsby jerked free, Donovan jammed his own finger in the backside of the trigger guard, preventing another shot. His only concern was to thwart more bullets from cutting through the air and possibly into TJ.
The struggle began in earnest. Donovan seized the advantage of his shifter strength added to a gutful of rage. The combination allowed him to gradually, as if in slow motion, press the muzzle end of the gun backwards. The entire time, he stared into Bagsby’s pinched face, saw the flash of fear, and knew satisfaction. “No one threatens me or the man I love.” Bagsby wasn’t a weakling, but didn’t come close to being able to match the power of a pissed off polar bear shifter in Donovan.
Donovan jerked his finger away from the trigger guard and shoved the gun further around. Bagsby’s finger cracked under the pressure. Bagsby’s face turned from fear to shock.
A loud explosion echoed through the room.
Crimson splashed all over Bagsby’s chest. His mouth opened, his eyes fixed, then his lifeless body crumbled to the ground.
Donovan lifted his gaze to see TJ standing where Bagsby once was, fury written clearly on his face. “You will never do that again.” The command came through loud and clear.
“Do what again?” Pain began to register as well as the feeling of a sticky liquid dripping down his left side.
“Put yourself between a gun and me.”
Donovan managed a small grin. “Let’s hope this isn’t a routine occurrence.” He rolled his shoulder and grimaced.
TJ half-carried, half-dragged Donovan to the bedroom, set him down on the mattress, and started peeling clothes in frantic motions, ripping Donovan’s shirt in his haste. “Sit your ass down before you fall.” He tossed the garment aside. “Son of a bitch.” TJ stared at the wound seeping blood. If possible, his face clouded with even more wrath.