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HE DUCKED JUST IN TIME. Nate’s front windshield splintered in front of him. He didn’t stop.
“Let her go, Gunderson. My brothers are on their way now. So are the Wyoming Highway Patrol.” Nate didn’t take his eyes off Gunderson. Nor did he aim the revolver he’d carried in his glovebox away from the other man. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to talk to her. Find out why.”
“Why what?”
Perci was on her knees now. Staring at him.
Inching her way toward his truck. To him. So that he could keep her safe.
Gunderson reached for her.
Nate almost pulled the trigger, but Perci was too close. It would be too easy to hit her instead.
There was no way he’d ever risk hurting her.
If Gunderson kept going backward, they’d be at the edge of a thirty-foot drop-off.
Wreck Curve Road, County Rd. 480, was one of the worst in this southern part of the county.
More people had died there than he even wanted to think about. He knew.
He’d had so many of them come through his ER.
Including Perci’s mother.
He hadn’t been on shift that night, but he’d looked up her medical records after Joel had gotten with Phoebe. Had compared them with what Joel had found in the original accident reports.
Phoenix’s car had gone over the guardrail when he’d swerved. It had landed on his mother’s side. She’d been in the passenger seat. Perci had been in the rear center. Perci had survived with a concussion, cracked ribs, and the scar on her brow.
The scuff marks were still there on the metal guardrail.
Five feet to the left of where Gunderson stood.