Page 53 of Burning Justice

“Brown, I think. Some of it was poking out from under his cap.”

“What happened next?” Brett rested his hand on Blaze’s back. It was either that or plow his fist through the wall.

“I racked his balls and got away.”

“You go, girl.” Bonnie wrapped her arm around Gemma’s shoulders and gave a little squeeze.

“He followed me into the living room, and that’s when I fell and hit the table. I started throwing things at him, anything I could get my hands on. A screwdriver. A hammer. I hit him with the screwdriver, but it didn’t stop him. Then I picked up my framing nailer and shot him.” She pointed to where a yellow-and-black nailer lay on the floor. The attached compressor took that moment to kick on, filling the air with a whirring sound.

Penny tipped her head to the other officer guarding the front door, who leaned over and unplugged the compressor from the wall outlet.

“You shot him with the nailer?” Brett asked. “How did you get it to—”

“Go off? Stupidly, I did try shooting it at him from a distance. Of course, it didn’t go off. Then he pinned me against the wall while he rammed his arm into my neck.”

Brett gritted his teeth. He never should have left her alone. The second he and Blaze had been shot at, he should have hauled ass back to her house. Part of this was his fault. He’d failed her, just like he’d failed the teenagers he tried to save.

“The nailer was stuck between us,” Gemma continued, “hard enough that when I pulled the trigger, I made enough contact against his body to set the gun off. I know I hit him, because he screamed and kept holding his hand to his side.”

Brett could swear the sound he heard next was the squeaking of his teeth from clenching them so hard.

“Darn, girl,” Bonnie exclaimed. “I knew you were good with power tools, but seriously. You’re my idol.”

“Where were you standing when you shot him?” Brett asked.

Gemma pointed. “Against that wall.”

Brett stood and did a circuit of the room, searching for a bloody nail embedded in the sheetrock, but there wasn’t one. “It must still be in him.”

“Too bad,” Penny said. “We could have gotten DNA.”

Exactly what Brett had been hoping for. Speaking of which…

Again, he knelt in front of Gemma, taking her by the wrists and turning over her hands so he could look at the undersides of her nails. “Did you scratch him?”

“No.” A corner of her mouth lifted. “But like I said, I did get in a solid kick to his family jewels.”

Brett couldn’t help but smile back. The woman was smart, beautiful, sexy, and a powerhouse. My little Wonder Woman.

Don’t go there. She’s not your woman. She’s not your anything.

“How could he get in?” Gemma asked. “I didn’t hear a thing until he was three feet behind me. Did he break in through the basement door? Did he come in through a window? I know I haven’t installed new window locks yet, but I would have heard him. I’m sure of it. Those windows are old. None of them open quietly.”

“He did come in through a window,” Brett said. “One of the upstairs ones that you left open.”

“But how did he get up—” Gemma clapped a hand to her forehead, then winced again. “The ladder. I forgot about the ladder. God, I feel stupid. I left it leaning against the side of the house so I could replace some rotten siding right below the window. This is all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” Brett insisted, meaning every word.

She leaned forward. “How can you say that? Of course it is.”

“It’s not, dammit.” He took a breath to steady himself. Not only wasn’t this the time for an argument, but they still had an audience. “It’s not your fault someone climbed that ladder, broke into your house, and tried to kill you. It’s mine. I should have been here.”

A mistake he’d never forgive himself for, and one he planned never to repeat.

Chapter Fifteen

A muscle in Brett’s cheek twitched, and he’d clamped his lips together so tightly the skin at the corners had turned white. He looked ready to explode. But there was something else simmering behind that hardened expression, something that touched Gemma’s heart.