Shattered (LOST #3)(93)

“He won’t hurt you.” The wood creaked beneath his footsteps. “Not ever again.”

Sarah’s shaking fingers touched Jax’s face. “I love him.”

“Wh-What?”

“He never hurt me.” Jax’s eyes were open and on hers. “He was protecting me.”

“Sarah . . .” Jax whispered. “Please, go . . .”

“Not without you.” Her fingers squeezed his. “I came for you and I won’t leave without you.”

“Fucking bastard!”

That yell had Sarah’s head whipping up and she saw Mitch pushing to his feet. He was glaring at Murphy, hate twisting his face. “You’re not getting out . . . you’re not!” Then he pulled a phone from his pocket. No, not a phone exactly . . . “No one is getting out!”

Mitch smiled and pressed a button.

Sarah felt the whole house shake when the bomb went off. She threw her body over Jax’s, trying to protect him as best she could. Then she felt the rush of fire . . . all around her. “I love you,” she whispered.

DEAN WAS RUNNING toward the house—and it exploded. Fire burst from the front door, sending that wood flying back and into him. Dean was thrown to the ground. He shoved the door off him, stared at the fire, and bellowed, “Sarah!”





Chapter 18

SOMEONE WAS HUMMING. SARAH OPENED HER eyes, coughed, choked, and tasted . . . smoke?

And someone was humming . . . she could hear the tune even above the crackle of the flames. Sarah sat up, shoving aside a chunk of wood that had fallen on her. Fire was streaking up the wall, but she wasn’t burned. She wasn’t, and— “Jax!” He was beside her, his hand reaching out, as if he’d touch her. She grabbed his hand, holding tightly to him. “Jax, please!”

His eyes opened. “Sarah . . .”

Her breath heaved out. He’s still alive!

“Was dreaming of you . . .” Jax said. “We were on an island . . . the beach was so hot, it burned you when we walked . . . I picked you up . . .” His fingers tightened on hers. “I took you away . . .”

“Jax, we have to get out of here.” The smoke was so thick and—where was her father? Was he the one humming?

Or was that Mitch?

Didn’t matter. Jax was the reason she was there.

“My heart’s . . . still beating . . .”

Her father hadn’t shot him in the heart. She’d realized that. The entry wound was too low, but it could still be a shot that would kill him, if Jax didn’t get help soon.

“We’re going to stand up, and we’re getting out of here.” Even if they had to walk through the fire. “Do this for me, Jax. For me.”

His gaze held hers. “I’d do anything . . . for you, Sarah.” Then he pushed up. He moved slowly, and she knew every moment was agony for him. But he rose, and she slid her shoulder under his arm. They started heading for the door. For the flames.

“You aren’t getting away!”

And Mitch was there. Appearing out of that smoke. Blocking their path. And he still had that trigger in his hand. “That was just the start . . .” He laughed. “That one sealed off the exit downstairs . . . there’s more . . . more . . .” He was about to press that trigger again.

Her father appeared behind him. Murphy had a knife in his hand and he just slipped that knife right up to Mitch’s throat. In a flash, he’d cut Mitch’s throat. From ear to ear.

Mitch gurgled . . . then fell. The trigger dropped from his hands.

And her father started humming again.

Jax pushed Sarah behind him. “Stay away . . . from her . . .”

Murphy shook his head. “You’re a dead man walking. You won’t get out. You’ll just slow my daughter down.”

That humming . . . such a familiar song . . .

She could almost hear him sing . . .

Hush little Sarah, don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird.

If that mockingbird won’t sing . . . Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring.

He’d sung his slightly altered version of that song to her for years . . . then he’d started humming it, humming it whenever he seemed stressed. Humming it . . .

Hush little Sarah, don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna teach you to hunt and kill.

By the time we’re done, the bodies will be still.

The lyrics had twisted over the years, just as he’d become twisted and evil. He’d stopped being her father and become . . .

The Monster.

And I’m like him.

“Will you . . . let Sarah pass?” Jax asked.

Mitch was still moving, grabbing at his throat. With all the smoke, she couldn’t tell how deeply her father had cut him.

“I’m here to save Sarah,” Murphy said. “I love her.”

The fire crackled louder.

“So . . . do I . . .” And Jax stepped aside. “Go . . . Sarah . . .” He pushed her toward the door. Toward Murphy.

Sarah grabbed Jax. “I’m not leaving you!” The smoke thickened even more. She coughed, but clutched tightly to him. “I won’t!” There was no way she’d leave him to the fire.

Her father locked his hand around her arm. “There’s no time, Sarah! Go out the window! Climb down—” He coughed, too. “Go!”