Chapter 7
“NO!”
I screamed and raised the gun Jake had given me.
BANG.
The shot was deafening in the enclosed space.
Marcus stumbled back, clutching his shoulder.
His gun went off, the bullet ricocheting off the metal ceiling.
“GET DOWN!” Jake’s voice boomed from the catwalk above.
More shots rang out.
Two of Marcus’s men dropped.
Chaos erupted.
The man holding Anna released her to fire at Jake.
Anna dove to the floor.
I ran toward her.
“ANNA!”
Another shot.
I felt something zip past my ear so close I could feel the wind.
Marcus was on his feet now, his left arm hanging useless, his right hand still holding his gun.
He saw me running for Anna.
He turned and aimed.
“CHARLOTTE, LOOK OUT!” Richard screamed.
I dove sideways just as Marcus fired.
The bullet hit the concrete where my head had been a split second before.
Jake dropped from the catwalk, landing on the remaining guard with a sickening crunch.
He rolled, came up firing, and the last of Marcus’s men went down.
Now it was just Marcus.
Bleeding.
Trapped.
But still holding a gun.
Still dangerous.
“Enough!” Marcus screamed, backing away toward the back of the cannery. “ENOUGH! I’LL KILL HER! I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL KILL HER!”
He’d grabbed Anna in the confusion.
His gun was pressed hard against her temple.
“Let her go, Marcus,” Jake said calmly, his own weapon trained on Marcus’s chest. “It’s over. Your men are dead. There’s nowhere to run.”
“I’LL KILL HER!” Marcus repeated, his voice rising. “I DON’T CARE IF I DIE! AS LONG AS I TAKE HER WITH ME!”
Anna was crying now, but her eyes were locked on mine.
She was trying to tell me something.
A tiny movement of her head.
Almost imperceptible.
Down.
She was telling me to get down.
Why?
Then I saw it.
Behind Marcus, half-hidden in shadow.
Richard.
He’d crawled across the floor while we were distracted.
He was holding a long piece of rusted pipe in his good hand.
He was three feet from Marcus.
Two.
One.
“NOW!” Richard roared.
I dropped.
Jake fired.
But Marcus, reacting to Richard’s shout, jerked sideways.
The bullet hit him in the shoulder again instead of the chest.
He roared in pain and rage.
He turned his gun toward Richard.
“YOU LITTLE BASTARD—”
CRACK.
Richard swung the pipe with every ounce of strength he had left.
It connected with Marcus’s head with a sickening, wet sound.
Marcus’s eyes rolled back.
His gun clattered to the floor.
He collapsed like a sack of potatoes.
Dead.
Or close enough to it.
Silence.
Heavy, ringing silence.
Then Anna was in my arms.
We were both sobbing, holding each other so tight it hurt.
Richard was on his hands and knees, gasping for breath, the pipe still clutched in his hand.
Jake kicked Marcus’s gun away and knelt to check his pulse.
“He’s alive,” he said. “But just barely. Cops are on their way. I called them on the way in. Told them there was an attempted kidnapping and shots fired. Gave them Marcus’s name. By morning, every cop in the state will know who he is and what he’s done. His empire is over.”
He looked at Anna.
And for the first time since we’d arrived, his hard expression softened.
“Hey, you.”
Anna looked up, tears still streaming down her face.
“Hey, Jake.”
“You okay?”
She nodded.
“I am now.”
Jake helped Richard to his feet.
Richard winced in pain.
“Think my arm’s broken,” he said.
“Ambulance is coming too,” Jake said. “You two are going to the hospital. Get checked out. Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
I looked around the cannery.
At the bodies.
At the blood.
At Marcus, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Eight years of fear.
Eight years of running.
Eight years of secrets.
It was finally over.
“Charlotte?” Anna said softly.
“Yeah?”
“Lily. Is she okay?”
I smiled through my tears.
“She’s perfect. Safe with two of Jake’s guys. Waiting for us.”
May you like
Anna closed her eyes and let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for eight years.
“Good. That’s all that matters.”
