The New Husband(108)

Nina drew in a breath. She placed her lips against his ear. “Simon,” she whispered, breathing heavily, pushing into him. “Simon,” she said again.

“Yes, yes,” Simon said breathlessly.

“Simon.”

A piercing cry exploded from Simon’s mouth after Nina brought her knee up fast and hard, ramming into his crotch with all her might. Simon’s hand flew up in reflex, and the gun went off—two loud pops that put holes directly in the ceiling, sending bits of plaster raining down on them.

He slumped to the floor, gasping for air. His body lay motionless, blocking the bottom stair—the only way out. Nina had no idea if Simon had managed to hold on to the gun or not as she tried to hurdle him to make her escape. But he seized hold of her ankle as she went up and over and would not let go. Nina hopped awkwardly on one foot to stay upright as Simon managed to slowly get to his knees, still holding her ankle in his viselike grip. With another push and groan, Simon was soon standing. He kicked Nina’s other foot out from under her and she went down, hard, using her hands to break her fall.

Nina spun onto her back. She looked up in horror as Simon loomed over her. Fury pulsated in his face. He began to drag her toward Glen’s room by the ankle, limping to compensate for the pain in his groin. With no balance, no leverage, Nina tried to twist free, but could not. Simon pulled her toward him like a fisherman reeling in his catch. He let go of her leg to take hold of her from behind, wrapping one arm tightly around her chest, lifting her into him as if she weighed nothing. Nina kicked and thrashed to slip free, but it was impossible to break his hold.

Now she got her answer as to what had happened to that gun. With his free hand, he put the weapon back to her head.

“Calm down, Nina,” he said, huffing and hobbling, compensating for his injury. “Just take it easy. Okay? You don’t want this going off accidentally. You don’t want to leave Connor and Maggie without a mother.”

That got Nina to still. Daisy went wild, her barking escalating. Driven by instinct more than anything—fight or flight—Nina snapped her head forward and bit Simon hard on the arm he’d used to wrap around her chest. Simon yowled in pain as he tossed Nina onto the floor. The left side of her skull connected hard with the television. She lay there dazed, her vision blurred. Inching toward her, Simon aimed the gun—a gun she’d never known he owned—at her heart.

“Don’t!” Glen cried out, as loud as his weakened voice could carry. “Leave her alone. Leave her, Simon. Please.”

Coming as far forward as his chain would allow, Glen pawed frantically to get to Simon, but the chain wouldn’t let him go far enough. Simon moved in front of Nina, still pointing the gun at her. As she struggled to stand, Glen made another useless lunge. His chain pulled tight, sending him momentarily airborne. He crash-landed hard to the ground. But he had distracted Simon, enough for Nina to get back to her feet, pick up the television, all sixty-something pounds of it, and fling it at Simon with the adrenaline-fueled angry cry of a shot-putter. Simon easily sidestepped the projectile. Shards of broken glass from the screen exploded on impact, shooting out in all directions. He surveyed the wreckage and made a tsk-tsk sound, like a disappointed parent.

“Well, that’s a waste,” he said, as if it puzzled him that Nina would destroy a perfectly good television. “But I’m thinking in a few minutes nobody will be needing it.”

His threat went unacknowledged, but Nina understood if things didn’t go his way, they would die—perhaps they would all die. She was panting from exertion and terror, standing behind the stairs between Simon, who blocked her only way out, and Glen, trapped in his room.

“Your answer to my question will decide what happens to the children,” Simon told her. “I want you to know that. So, Nina, now it’s the moment of truth for us. I love you. Do you love me, too?”

Simon lowered his weapon. His arms hung at his sides. There was nothing crazed about him. He was calm as could be. He looked to Nina like a teacher standing at the front of his classroom, hoping someone would give the right answer. That someone was her. Nina understood that any other words would bring her a bullet.

“Yes, I—I love you, Simon.” Knowing what he wanted to hear, of course that’s how she’d answer, but why on earth would he believe her?

Her only hope was that desire and obsession would occlude his thinking. Simon closed his eyes and lifted his head to the ceiling as if basking in some hidden glow. “Say it again,” he said, his eyes still closed.

A flash of movement drew Nina’s attention to the space behind him. To her shock and relief, she saw Detective Eric Wheeler quietly descending the slatted basement stairs. She could see him clearly in the open space between each step.

“I love you, Simon,” Nina said, more loudly this time and with feeling, while Wheeler crept panther-like down into the basement. He had his gun drawn as he moved cautiously from stair to stair, motioning with his hand for Nina to keep talking, keep Simon distracted.

“I love you,” Nina said again, her heart racing in terror. “We’ll make it work. Don’t worry about anything, Simon. It’ll be the two of us. I’ll be your second chance with Allison. Just the way you want.”

With that, Simon opened his eyes. He looked hopeful, relieved, somehow at peace. Nina’s body quaked as a faint smile came to his lips.