“Why Lucy?”
“Why not?”
“You had to have picked her for a reason.”
“You are so transparent! Buying time, trying to get me to talk. Do you think I’m going to break down and spill my guts and tell you what a miserable childhood I had and how I want you to stop me? I like my life just the way it is. And there are a lot more people out there like me than you think. I put up the disclaimer, but do you really think those people don’t know what they’re watching? Ha! They know, and they love it. I’m just better than them, better because I act out their fantasies. They want to be me.
“I’m rich. Even with your pathetic attempts to seize my accounts, I have millions all over the world. You’ll never find it all. This glitch is just that: a temporary lull in the action.
“Don’t ever think for one minute that I don’t love every minute of what I do.” He stared at her. “When I took Paige, it was you I wanted. But you know what?” He leaned forward, inches from her face. “She gave me the only thing a woman is good for, sex.”
Kate’s booted foot kicked up between his legs, connecting squarely with his balls. The pain that crossed his face was real, but he recovered quickly. As she rolled away, trying to get up off the couch, he grabbed her, threw her to the floor. Her head hit the hardwood floor and that stunned her long enough for him to climb on top of her. She was on her stomach, and he pinned her down. His arm came around her neck and he held her.
“Maybe not such a willing participant, after all,” he growled into her ear. “Too bad I can’t take both you and your boyfriend with me. I’d like him to watch.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He laughed in her ear, then bit her neck so hard she screamed. “I was surprised, too, but Dr. Kincaid doesn’t have a very good poker face.”
Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement in the kitchen.
Scott saw it, too.
He pulled her up, produced a knife in his hand. It was at her throat.
Jack stood in the threshold between kitchen and dining room, gun drawn.
“I’ll kill her,” Scott said calmly. “Don’t move.”
“Give it up now, Scott.”
“Trask! My name is Trask!” He held Kate close to him. “I think I’m holding the cards.”
Scott took a step toward Jack dragging Kate with him. She provided him with a shield, dammit! She squirmed and felt the knife cut into her throat.
“Get out,” Scott told Jack.
Jack didn’t back off.
Scott pushed the knife deeper into her throat. Kate tried not to make a sound, but a cry escaped her lips.
Go, she mouthed to Jack. Now.
It was obvious he was torn, but he backed out of the kitchen.
“Out the door, soldier,” Scott ordered.
Jack complied, a tight anger across his face. Scott bolted the door.
He bolted the door, Kate thought. That meant Jack had a key. Had Colonel Kincaid given him one? Or had he gotten it from Dillon? Was Dillon safe?
He had to be. Jack wouldn’t have left the house with his brother still in danger. Would he?
With Jack gone he pulled Kate back over to the computer in the next room. “I set the next bomb to blow up in five minutes. Whoops, three minutes, ten seconds. Unless I stop it, it’ll blow. You destroy my computer, it will blow. You hinder my escape, it will blow. Hell, I might just let it blow for fun.”
“Doesn’t give me the incentive to let you escape.”
“Hmm, probably not. Except that it’s this house that’s the next to go. And your doctor friend is bleeding to death in the next room.”
“Not anymore.”
Dillon’s voice to their right startled Scott for only a fraction of a second. But that was long enough for Kate to take advantage of him dropping his arm just a hair. She brought her arms up between his knife arm and her neck, pushing them back. The sting of another cut to her throat didn’t slow her; they didn’t have time. She whirled around, kicked him square in the chest.
Scott threw the knife at Dillon who anticipated the move and turned back into the hallway. The knife hit the wall inches from where Dillon had been.
Scott turned back to Kate, her gun in his hand. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, especially since he had an ace in the hole: bombs.
Kate dove at the same time Scott fired, seeing movement from the hall.
Dillon tackled Scott from behind and they both hit the floor hard.
“He has a gun!” Kate shouted.
Dillon grabbed his hand as Scott tried to turn the gun toward him. He slammed it against the wood floor. Once, twice. The gun fell from Scott’s grasp and Kate retrieved it. Scott reached down and twisted his fingers into the hole in Dillon’s hand.
Dillon cried out, tried to regain his hold on Scott, but the killer kicked him and jumped up. He glanced at his computer and laughed. “One minute forty-five seconds and it blows.”
He opened the front door.
“Get the computer!” Dillon shouted at Kate. “Stop the bomb.”
Kate grabbed the computer while Dillon went after Scott. He lunged forward, knocking Scott off balance and causing both of them to roll down the porch stairs. Dillon landed on his back, winded. Scott clambered up and Dillon grabbed his foot, pulled him back down.
Scott grunted, but he wasn’t seriously hurt or bleeding. He had an edge over Dillon whose wounds had started bleeding freely again.
He heard a shout from the side of the house. Sounded like Jack.
Dillon tried to climb on top of Scott, to keep him on the ground until Jack arrived. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark-haired woman run across the lawn.
Lucy.
“Get out of here!” he shouted.
Scott kicked Dillon in the head and got up. He staggered forward, saw Lucy only feet from him. Monique. She’d returned for him.
He smiled. “You’re late.”
He took a step toward her.
She pulled a gun from under her sweater. Aimed it at Scott.
“Monique, you won’t kill me.”
She stared at him as if he were insane. That angered Adam more than anything. “Monique!” he said sharply.
“My name is Lucy Kincaid.”
“Monique, it’s me. Adam. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”
She pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced him in the chest. His mouth dropped open.
“Why, sweetheart. Why?”
She pulled the trigger again. Again.
Adam dropped to his knees. He was dead before he fell face first into the dirt.
“Lucy, stop!” Dillon called, stumbling up. Jack ran at him, held out his hand to pull Dillon up. “Thanks, bro,” Dillon said. Jack nodded curtly, then turned to where Lucy had her empty gun pointed at Adam Scott’s dead body.
Kate ran from the house. She had Scott’s laptop.
“Run!” she yelled. “I can’t stop the bomb!”
Jack removed the gun from Lucy’s hand, grabbed her around the waist, then started for the street.
Local and federal police were pulling up in front of the house. Kate waved them off.
“There’s a bomb! Get away!”
The explosion lifted them all off the ground as they ran. They hit the lawn across the street.
No one moved.
Slowly, Kate rose to her knees, shaking her head to get rid of the ringing, but it stayed with her.
Dillon. Where was Dillon?
Sirens, shouts, and screams filled the air. The last time Kate had seen Dillon was in the front yard. Had he heard her? Had he run far enough? Had he even been able to run?
“Dillon!” she shouted, her voice hoarse from Adam Scott’s hands. She cleared her throat, coughed. The crackle of fire consumed the house that had been Dillon’s. The firefighters were frantically setting up to try to save the neighboring homes.