An Honest Lie(82)

For the first time, she considered that this might not work. He might not—

Suddenly, there was a noise at the door. She heard the whoosh of air that left Ginger’s lungs as he heard the noise, too. He walked backward, keeping his eyes on the door. He lifted the hammer, swinging it around expertly. He looked sharp, tactical. Flattening himself behind the door, he waited, gun up near his face and ready.

Then door opened and she saw him. The man from her nightmares.

“Taured!” Rainy cried out. “He’s behind the door!”

As the hammer came down, Taured turned sideways, raising his arm to cover his face. He was taller than Ginger, larger. Rainy’s neck was turned as far as it would go as they struggled in and out of her line of sight. Their bodies twisted and she saw the look of shock on Ginger’s face when he saw Taured. It stalled him. The hammer caught Taured’s forearm and Rainy heard him grunt in surprise. His reflexes were fast, and he grabbed for the hammer with his other hand, but Ginger had already lifted it, ready to strike again, and it was coming down like an ax. Rainy waited for the crunch of metal on bone, but again Taured was too fast. Throwing himself backward, he hit the wall and the hammer swung through the empty air. Using the wall as leverage, Taured threw himself at Ginger, grabbing the hammer with one hand and Ginger’s throat with the other. They swung in a circle like they were dancing, the hammer still clutched between them as they stumbled out of her vision toward Braithe. Ginger had a gun; where was it now? If he used it to shoot Taured, someone would likely hear the gunshot in the hotel, even though this wing was under construction.

And then what, you dummy? He turns the gun on you and Braithe. She clanked her handcuffs against the table leg in a fruitless attempt to move the bolted-down table.

“Wake up, Braithe!” she shouted. Was it possible she was still alive?

Braithe was stirring, her head bobbing. And then she looked semialert, holding her head at a steady-ish angle.

Open your eyes, open your eyes! Rainy had a purely comical thought: The boys are fighting!

Braithe, who had her knees pulled up to her chest, straightened one leg.

As they grappled, they lost their balance, and Ginger took the brunt of the fall, hitting the ground and staying there, pinned by Taured’s weight. They’d collapsed just beyond where Braithe sat against her own table leg, struggling.

Rainy couldn’t see what happened next. The men’s feet were kicking, and she saw flashes of gray boots. Ginger tried to reach for his gun, but Taured was a bigger man with longer arms, and he got there first. She braced herself for a gunshot, her vision swimming as the grunting continued, but the only sound that came was two dull thumps. Braithe was watching, she had a better view than Rainy, and she was trying to keep out of their way, pulling her legs up to her chest. As Taured stood, Braithe’s head followed him, tilting all the way back.

Everything felt perfectly still in those moments, and the light from the high window was shining directly on Rainy’s face, bright white and blinding. She blinked once...twice...and then Taured rose from the ground, a disoriented victor. Rainy could just see Ginger’s boots, unmoving, beyond Braithe.

Taured stumbled back into Rainy’s view, glancing at Braithe and stepping into the greater part of the room. There was blood on his hands and shirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was looking for her. It was her turn to tremble, the weight of her stupid, ridiculous plan crashing down on her. Handcuffed to a table leg on an abandoned floor of a hotel, at the mercy not only of a would-be killer but her worst enemy. She started laughing at the absurdity of it: How had she thought she should deal with a kidnapper herself?

She couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled from her lips. All because she grew up in a cult and had a lot of great therapy, she’d thought she could outsmart a sociopath. Her laughter was almost beautiful even to her own ears, illogical yet melodious in this impossible situation.

“Hello, Taured,” she said, and as he crouched down in front of her, he was grinning. Blood was running steadily from his nose where Ginger had got him good. She wondered if Ginger were still alive. The light wasn’t good, but it looked like there was a lot of blood on that side of the room.

“You’re not so different,” she said.

He grabbed her chin and turned her head from side to side.

“You’re very different.”

When he let her go, her skin tingled where his fingers had been.

“That’s good. Want to let me out of these handcuffs? My wrists are killing me.”

Taured made a face like, Wow, okay, and stood up.

“Who’s your friend?” He glanced back at Braithe, who was sitting very still.

“Her name is Braithe. Who’s yours? Do you remember him?”

Taured looked over to where Ginger lay motionless. “Ginger. Of course I remember him. I got your email. You can imagine how shocked I was, Summer, to see your name pop up from that old email address.”

She’d used the email he’d had them send their daily journals to, knowing he would still have access to it, would look at it, even after all these years. He needed those trophies.

“The subject line got me.” He pushed off from the wall and took the few steps needed to reach her. Then, like he’d done a moment ago, he lowered himself in front of her, eyes sparkling. She was in kicking distance of his crotch, the arrogant bastard. She could see the pores on his face, the individual hairs that grew down his neck. The freckle on his earlobe that looked like the tiny stud of an earring. She remembered noticing that as a child. She’d thought, when she’d first met him, that the illusion of an earring made him look cooler.