Private Royals (Private 12.50) - Page 32

Knight’s eyes went wide as they fixed onto the blade in the man’s hand, the hunting knife looming as large as a samurai sword. Despite the burning agony of his wounds, Knight tried to stand, desperate to fight no matter how doomed his cause.

Shaw saw his struggle and hissed, ‘Stop moving! You want to go out in pain, or you want it quick? Just shut your eyes and I’ll make it quick!’

But Knight had no desire to go quietly. The thought of never seeing his children again was enough to give him the energy to rock back onto his shoulders and propel himself forwards, his feet connecting with Shaw’s chest.

‘You stupid arsehole!’ Shaw raged. ‘For that, you can bleed out slow!’ He took hold of Knight’s struggling legs in one hand and prepared to drive home his blade with the other.

And then the window shattered.

CHAPTER 41

MORGAN PUT EVERY ounce of his strength into hurling the rubbish bin at the dirt-covered window. The metal smashed the single glazing with ease. Knowing that his moment of surprise would be measured in milliseconds, he was already throwing himself through the opening before the dust had settled, shards of glass tearing at his clothing and skin.

He hit the floor and went into a shoulder roll. He instantly took in the room at a glance, seeing Abbie bound but unharmed on an old sofa and Knight a moment away from death at the hands of the wild-eyed Shaw.

But Morgan wasn’t the only trained killer in the room, and the disgraced bodyguard jumped away from Knight, knowing that this new threat must be dealt with immediately. Shaw was fast, and before Morgan could fully recover from his explosive entrance a powerful swing of Shaw’s blade sliced across the flesh of his upper arm.

‘Drop the knife!’ Morgan ordered as he sidestepped a thrust. ‘The police are on their way, Shaw! Don’t make it worse for yourself!’

‘Yank bastard!’ the man spat, thrusting again. ‘Let me past or I’ll kill you!’ he threatened.

‘I’m not letting you leave,’ Morgan warned.

‘Then you’re dead!’ Shaw promised, and stabbed forwards again.

This time, as he stepped backwards to avoid the strike, Morgan pulled a blade from behind his back. Shaw eyed the KA-BAR knife, recognising it.

‘I know Waldron killed Grace Beckit,’ Morgan said, wanting to avoid further bloodshed. ‘You’re not a murderer, Shaw. You’ve seen what this blade can do. Don’t make me use it on you.’

Shaw laughed at the threat. ‘Come and try then, Yank!’

Morgan thrust forward with the blade, finding flesh and grazing Shaw’s ribcage.

‘Flesh wound!’ Shaw beamed, rapidly losing his grip on reality. ‘Flesh wound!’ he laughed again, before launching a series of rapid thrusts at Morgan’s face and neck. Morgan avoided them, but then Shaw let loose a brutal kick. The steel toecap of his boot connected with Morgan’s ankle. ‘Ha!’ Shaw shouted in triumph, seeing his adversary stumble. Pressing home the attack, he aimed the blade at Morgan’s neck.

Morgan raised his arm as a shield and howled in agony as the blade pierced flesh and scraped bone. The pain was almost unbearable, but he fought through it, knowing this was his moment. His only chance. Either he would end it now, or Shaw would work his blade free and kill him.

Teeth gritted, Morgan pushed his wounded arm upwards so that Shaw’s blade dug deeper until it was trapped. Roaring a challenge against the pain, he thrust his own blade into the kidnapper’s left ankle, and before Shaw could even scream, Morgan thrust it again into his right.

Hamstrung, the disgraced bodyguard collapsed wailing to the floor, leaving his blade embedded in Morgan’s arm. Morgan sat back heavily, his vision narrowing, body singing in pain, but with both blades in his possession.

Fighting against the whiteness that threatened to overcome his sight, Morgan saw Shaw struggle to get to his feet, but the man was as helpless as a newborn foal. Eventually he realised it, and turned his pleading eyes to Morgan.

‘I don’t want to go to prison.’

Morgan said nothing.

‘Please,’ the man begged. ‘Finish me. Just finish me.’

The sound of sirens began to echo through the smashed window.

‘You had an honourable life,’ Morgan managed, teeth gritted against the pain. ‘You could have lived it. I’m not going to give you an easy way out, now that you know what you really are.’

‘Just kill me!’ Shaw screamed, bursting into tears.

Morgan’s sympathy had run dry.

‘You killed yourself.’

Tags: James Patterson Private Mystery
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