Shattered (LOST #3)(62)

The ambulance braked at the ER, and the back doors flew open. As Gabe was wheeled out, Sarah caught a flash of Eve’s face. Eve ran toward the ambulance and grabbed Gabe’s hand. His fingers curled tightly around hers, and then they vanished after passing through the automatic sliding doors.

Sarah jumped out of the ambulance. She’d told her story to the cops at the scene, but she knew there would be more questions. A uniform had followed the ambulance. She could already see the guy heading toward her.

Sarah braced her shoulders. He’d finally put out an APB, but Sarah doubted they’d find the man who did this. Not until he wanted to be found.

Not until he comes for me again.

And who would be in his way the next time? Who would he take down in order to get to her?

HE DROVE THE Mustang into the old building and killed the engine as fast as he could. His arm hurt, but the bullet had just grazed him. Sarah wasn’t as good as he was with a gun.

He heard muffled cries as he approached the back of that building. “Shut the hell up,” he muttered.

But the cries continued. Growling, he kicked open the door and saw the man. Tied to the chair. Eyes wild and angry. The guy was muttering behind his gag. Really pissing him off.

He stalked forward and yanked that gag out of the way.

“You can’t do this!” the man yelled. “You can’t—”

He shot him, right in the shoulder. The bound man howled.

He cocked his head and studied the wound critically. “Do you think she’ll remember exactly where she hit me?”

“You fuckin—”

He put the gun to the guy’s head. That stopped his screams.

“No, I don’t think she will, either.”

Then he laughed. Because he had such grand fucking plans.

INTERROGATION ROOMS SUCKED.

Jax tapped his fingers on the table. Cross was on the opposite side of the table, staring intently at him, but not saying a word. Jax figured that was supposed to be some kind of intimidation bullshit, but it was really just annoying.

If the guy wanted to waste time, that was his deal. But Jax had somewhere he needed to be.

With Sarah.

The door burst open. “Don’t say a word!” Ty told him as he rushed in. The guy’s face was flushed, his blond hair tousled, and he was huffing and puffing. “My client has nothing to say and unless you’re arresting him—”

“He was ID’d by the victim. You’d think he would have plenty to say about that,” Cross drawled.

Jax didn’t move.

“ID’d?” Ty jumped on that. “There was a lineup? Why wasn’t I informed? You can’t do that without—”

“No lineup,” Cross gritted out as his cheeks flushed. “She said his name. She described him. That’s what we call a slam dunk.”

Ty dropped his suitcase on the table. “That’s what I call a confused, injured victim. A woman who isn’t remembering straight.” He nodded his head. “When she’s out of the hospital, let’s see if she still tells the same story, shall we?”

Cross glared. “Jax here won’t give us an alibi, but his girlfriend sure was accommodating. She was trying to say the two of you were screwing at the time of poor Molly’s disappearance, right?” He leaned forward. “Is that what went down? You were screwing the sexy shrink when—”

“Don’t,” Jax warned him. It would be so easy to jump across the table at that guy.

But he was supposed to be playing it cool. Cross was trying to push his buttons. He got that. The guy would love to slap him with an assault charge so that he could hold Jax longer—until the cop found some additional evidence he could use against Jax.

“Don’t what?” Cross taunted. “Don’t ask if you were fucking her then? Because that’s what she said. I mean, hell, you’ve worked some number on her. If she’s willing to lie for you this way . . .”

Jax’s muscles were tight. His body stiff.

“Or maybe . . . maybe what they say about her is true. ’Cause I did some research on her. Some folks think she’s as screwed in the head as her old man. That’s how she understands the killers. She is one of ’em. And she probably wants to screw you because . . . it’s like to like, right, man? One sick, twisted freak to—”

Jax jumped to his feet, his fists ready to swing.

“No!” Ty screamed.

And the door flew open again. Brent was there. Like Ty, he seemed to be a little out of breath, as if he’d been running. His gaze immediately found Jax’s. “She’s okay.”

What?

“Get that in your head first, okay? Sarah is all right.”

Jax shoved the table out of his way.

“This isn’t good,” Ty muttered.

Jax stalked toward Brent. “What are you talking about?”

“There was an . . . incident.”

Jax shook his head.

“She’s all right,” Brent rushed to say again. “But . . . some guy in a Mustang followed Sarah. He shot at her and Gabe, and they—they crashed.”

He could feel all the blood draining from his head. Sarah had been in danger, and he’d just been sitting in that damn room with Cross.

“There was a gun in the car. Sarah fired back and the guy got the hell out of there. Cops are searching for him now.”