She Can Hide (She Can #4)(81)

In his peripheral vision, Ethan could see Krista lying on the floor. She wasn’t moving.

“Put the knife down, Joe,” Ethan said.

“No fucking way.” Joe’s hands shook. His eyes were the unnatural black of a meth addict. “You put your gun down or the kid never talks again.” Joe demonstrated his willingness with a poke at Derek’s tongue. The boy’s whimper was distorted by the hard grip on his lower jaw. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

But if Ethan put down his gun, what would stop Joe from doing anything he wanted to Derek? Absolutely nothing.

Ethan needed to stall. Surely backup would be here any minute. “I’ll lower the gun if you take the knife away from his face.”

“Fuck you.”

“I think what we have here is a stalemate.”

“Bullshit. You can’t shoot me without hitting the kid, and you know it.” Joe’s eyes gleamed. He was enjoying the power and control. “Drop the gun or I start cutting bits of the kid off.”

A thin line of blood trickled from the edge of Derek’s mouth. Ethan’s body tensed.

“Don’t come any closer.” Joe slid the knife out of Derek’s mouth. More blood welled. The blade must have sliced the boy’s tongue. Joe lifted the kid’s jaw, stretching his neck out and positioning the sharp edge of the weapon along the jugular vein.

Ethan didn’t move.

“Drop the gun and kick it over here.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Terror had cranked Derek’s eyes wide open.

But Ethan knew that dropping his gun meant they were helpless. “I can’t do that, Joe.” The situation had gone from bad to worst-case scenario. Where was his backup? And what were they going to do when they got here? Joe was an alarming mix of cunning and meth-addict crazy. “Look, why don’t you let the kid go? I’ll let you have me instead.”

“As long as I have this kid, I have you. But I’m sure you called for backup. Two hostages are better than one.” Joe grinned and nicked Derek’s neck.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Don’t think about it. People could be dying. No time for a panic attack.

But Abby’s belly cramped and her pulse went into overdrive as she stepped down again. The steps were wooden and rickety. The third tread squeaked. Abby moved to the side to minimize any more sound. Descending to the bottom, Abby squinted into the darkness. Six steps led to the basement floor. Her boots scuffed on the dusty cement. The scant gray light from the open door ended two feet in front of her. Her next step would take her into total darkness.

Murmured voices drew Abby into the basement shadows. She shook ice crystals from her jacket and pushed her dripping hood off her head. Her outerwear was waterproof. The beads of moisture running between her shoulder blades and pooling at the base of her spine were pure sweat. Her eyes adjusted to the reduced light. A large angular shape loomed on the other side of the room. She shuffled across the slab. Stairs.

Abby crept up. At the top, the door was open. Staying low, she peered over the top step. At the end of a short, dim corridor, Ethan’s back was to her. He was pointing his gun forward. Eight or so feet in front of him, she could see Derek in a chair and Joe using the boy as a shield. Derek’s face and mouth were bleeding, his neck and light gray jacket wet and red. Anger and pity burned in Abby’s chest as Joe made a shallow cut in the boy’s neck.

A low moan came from Derek.

And suddenly Abby wasn’t afraid for herself anymore. Nothing that could happen to her could be worse than Joe hurting Derek.

“Put the gun down, cop,” Joe said.

No! A fresh burst of fear coursed through Abby.

Ethan and Joe were at a standoff, but Joe would win because Ethan’s heart must be twisting as hard as Abby’s at the sight of the bleeding, terrified child. Once Ethan put his gun down, he’d be in danger too.

“Come on, Joe. Take me instead of the kid,” Ethan offered.

Oh my God. Not Ethan. He’d taught her to trust, to be a part of a relationship rather than a separate and lost soul. She couldn’t let anything happen to him.

She loved him.

Joe shook his head. “Do I look stupid? There’s no way I’m taking a cop hostage.”

The answer brought calm to Abby’s trembling limbs. Joe didn’t want Ethan. Joe wanted Abby. She could feel it in the marrow of her bones. There was only one solution to the problem, something Joe wouldn’t be able to turn down—her. She was a twofer: contract completion and get-out-of-jail-free card.

Abby tucked the gun securely in the back of her jeans and pulled her wet jacket down over it. Then she walked out of the basement, hands up, palms facing Joe in a submissive position. “You don’t really want him, do you, Joe?”

“Look who it is, the bitch who wouldn’t die.” Joe’s eyes brightened. “You have more lives than a fucking cat.”

“Abby, what are you doing?” Ethan yelled. “Get out of here.”

She ignored him and kept her eyes focused on Joe. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll trade me for them. It’s your only chance of getting out of here, and you know it. The police will be here in a couple of minutes.”

Hope gleamed in Joe’s eyes.

Abby pressed forward another step. “Come on. Let’s go. You and I can drive out of here right now. Everyone else stays.”