The air had filled with five shots. Josey knew she’d had only four in the gun she was holding. That meant RJ had gotten a round off. Her heart leaped into her throat at the thought that Jack might have been hit. If the blow to the head from the butt of the gun hadn’t killed him, then the shot could have.
“Jack?” For a moment, the silence was deafening. Then a chill skittered over her skin as she heard RJ chuckle. He knew there had only been six shots in the pistol. He knew she was no longer armed.
She could hear him feeling around in the dark for something. His gun? Had he lost it? Then her heart began to pound wildly as she heard him crawling toward her. “Jack?” No answer.
She was filled with agony and terror that Jack was dead. Her plan had backfired. Somehow Jack had gotten in the line of fire.
She scuttled backward from her sitting position on the floor until she hit the rock wall. Her fingers felt rocks and dried mortar. She felt around frantically for a rock small enough that she could use as a weapon, but found nothing.
Remembering the hole Jack had made in the wall, she felt around for it, thinking that if she could get through it—
As she tried to scramble to her feet, disoriented by the blackness, RJ’s hand closed like a vise around her ankle. She screamed, grabbing a handful of dried mortar from the floor and throwing it where she thought his face should be.
He let out a scream of his own, clawing at her now with both hands as she tried to fight him off. But RJ had always been too strong for her.
MCCALL HAD JUST stepped through the doorway and had started down the hall when she heard the five shots. She snapped on her flashlight. With her weapon drawn, she hurried down the hall.
She couldn’t tell where the shots had come from. The sound had echoed through the wing. So she was forced to stop at each door, before moving forward again.
Behind her she heard a door open and spun around to see her grandmother standing in it, wide-eyed. Damn the stubborn woman. Hiding behind her was Enid.
McCall couldn’t take the time to argue with them. She waved for them to stay back, knowing the effort was useless, as she moved forward down the hallway.
She hadn’t gone far when the hallway light switched on. She swore. Her grandmother or Enid had just alerted whoever had fired those shots that they were no longer alone.
IN THE SUDDEN LIGHT, Josey saw that at least some of the four shots she’d fired had hit their mark. RJ had left a wide smear of blood on the floor as he’d crawled after her. He had pulled himself up into a sitting position and managed to get hold of her wrist, twisting it until she was sure he was going to break it, then pulled her facedown in front of him.
But when the lights had come on, her gaze had gone instantly to where she’d heard Jack fall. He lay just feet away. His eyes were closed and she could see that his shirt was soaked with blood. She stared at his chest, praying to see the rise and fall of his breath.
Please, God, let him be alive.
RJ let go of her wrist to grab a handful of her hair. He jerked her head up and slapped her almost senseless. “I’m talking to you, bitch. Look at me when I talk to you. I want you to be gazing into my eyes when I rip your heart out.”
He’d already ripped her heart out if he’d killed Jack. She had fought RJ until he’d gotten her down on the floor. His face was scratched where she’d made contact, his eyes red and running tears, his cheeks gritty with mortar. He kept blinking and swearing as he tried to clear them.
But it was the way the front of his shirt blossomed with blood that gave her hope. “You’re in no shape to rip my heart out,” she said, meeting his gaze. She would fight this bastard to the death. “You’re going to bleed to death on this dirty floor.”
He laughed, a gurgling sound coming from his throat, that even gave him pause. A new cruelty came into his eyes. He wasn’t going to die alone, the look said. He let go of her long enough to pull the knife from the sheath strapped to his leg.
Out of the corner of her eye, Josey caught movement. She wanted to cry in relief. She wanted to look in Jack’s direction to make sure she hadn’t just imagined it. But she did neither. She kept her gaze locked with RJ’s, afraid of what he would do if he knew that Jack was alive.
Josey didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as RJ put the knife to her throat.
JACK CAME TO SLOWLY. The blow to his head had knocked him senseless. He lay perfectly still, listening to RJ threatening Josey. It was all he could do not to leap up and attack the man.
But first he had to be sure that RJ wasn’t still holding a gun on her.
He moved his head as quietly as he could until he could see RJ sitting, leaning against the stack of rocks Jack had removed from the wall. He was turned slightly, so he wasn’t facing Jack, but he didn’t have his back to him, either.
Jack saw that RJ’s shirt was soaked with blood. There was a wide trail of blood on the floor where it appeared RJ had crawled over to Josey. He now had hold of Josey’s hair and was holding her in front of him at an odd angle.
The last thing Jack remembered was the sound of gunfire. At first he’d thought RJ had unloaded his weapon on Josey. But now he could see Josey’s gun lying
