Protocol.
Shoot the hostage. Always call their bluff and then attack.
“I warned you, Jones.”
“Are you willing to die for her?”
“Yes.”
The target didn’t get any easier. Luke stood completely still, a red dot marked the spot where the bullet would end his life. Jackson took a slow breath. Claire’s dead body flashed in his head.
“Let it go,” he whispered. A bead of sweat rolled down his face.
Luke closed his eyes, a complete surrender.
“Are you willing to die for her?”
“Yes.”
Jackson wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm then repositioned, the laser finding its target again.
“Take the shot.”
Jessica in her wedding dress.
“I’m just a girl with Luke. I know it sounds crazy, but I feel safe with him … when we’re not together I don’t feel alive. It’s like I’m holding my breath.”
AJ.
“I need some time alone to figure out if I can forgive you, because right now what you did feels unforgivable.”
Ryn.
“There’s nothing about you I couldn’t love … if you just let me.”
“Fuck!” Jackson pulled back, the rifle falling to his lap as he tried to catch his breath.
He tossed it aside and got out. With each step he felt his pulse thundering in every single vein. As he crossed the street he unfastened his vest and tossed it in the yard a few feet from Luke, followed by his weapons belt.
“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
Luke opened his eyes. “Why?”
“I’d rather she love me in Hell than hate me on Earth.”
*
“Move your arms and legs.”
Jillian blinked. Cobwebs under the bottom stair came into focus.
“I beat you. I raped you. I sodomized you. I stole your innocence. But. You. Fucking. Survived. Move your arms and legs, goddammit.”
She grunted and her arms moved, a lot.
“You don’t have much time. Get yourself free. Kill or be killed.”
Jillian rolled to her back and wriggled, tugged, and pulled in every direction. Weight loss plus daily drenching had loosened the duct tape. Her legs were still zip-tied but her wrists were not. Irene had to tape them to her sides in order to get the IV in.
“They’re coming.”
“I can’t,” she whispered.
“They’re going to kill everyone. Do it for Luke. Do it for Jude. Do it for Claire.”
Knox had always been ruthless with his motivation. Mentioning Claire was a low blow.
She freed one arm and then the other, ripping out the IV. She was too weak to break the ties around her ankles.
“Take out the guy first.”
She glared at him, waiting for him to acknowledge that she was naked, bound at the ankles, battered, bleeding, and strong as a corpse.
“But Irene—” She coughed, not sure if he could hear her voice that was non-existent.
“No. The guy. She won’t kill you. She doesn’t have it in her, that’s why he’s here. He’ll kill you. The arrows.” He nodded to the table. “They’re razor tips.”
Jillian dragged her body along the concrete floor. Even using the arrow to cut the ties proved to be difficult. She had no strength. Once her legs were free, Knox nodded to the table. “Drink.”
Jillian grabbed the half-empty bottle of water and drank it down, burning the whole way.
Just as she moved to help free Knox, footsteps neared the door.
He shook his head. “Leave me.”
She hated him and the pictures were still on the floor to remind her why, but for a brief moment she felt the unwelcome emotion of sorrow. “You…” she swallowed, even whispering hurt “…confessed.” Her reference was to his admitting that he raped her.
Knox shrugged. “When I see my angel, I want to be able to tell her I tried to right my wrongs. I’m sorry, Jessica.”
The door opened. Jillian pulled herself to standing, three razor-tipped arrows fisted in her right hand. She held her head high and took slow, deep breaths to keep from passing out as she hid around the corner. Everything felt weak, including her pulse. She didn’t know if she had the strength to kill him. Either way, she’d die trying.
“My eyes.”
Jessica nodded.
Four blinks. Her target would be the fourth one to come down the stairs. Knowing where Irene fell in the lineup would have been nice, but she’d improvise. Her heart found some life, pumping blood to her extremities. Four blinks. Four people. Luke was alive.
He rounded the corner first, stopping when his eyes met the empty spot where she had been. Knox shook his head a fraction. Luke didn’t speak. Irene shoved him, sending him to the floor before Jillian’s absence came into her line of sight.
“Where the hell—”
Jackson saw Jillian first. His eyes made a quick scan of her body. The master at showing no emotion had murder in his dark eyes.
Knight met Day.
The gravity of her time in captivity mixed with AJ, Luke, Knox, and their parents—it was too much.