Torch (Take It Off) (24 page)

My only hope was that whomever he was talking to would have enough sense to call the police.

“The papers, Paul! Get the papers!” William said, pointing the gun at the man.

“What papers?” he asked, putting his hands up in the air.

“He wants me to refuse the money,” I explained.

Paul’s eyes widened as he just stood there and stared at the gun.

The blonde stepped between the gun and Mr. Goddard. “Get the papers, old man,” she growled.

He nodded and went across the room to his briefcase, where he shuffled through some papers and pulled out what he was looking for. “This one here is the one you would sign if you did not accept the money,” he said, glancing at me and then at William, his mouth flattening into a straight line.

William shoved me toward Mr. Goddard and the papers. “Sign them.”

“You do realize even if she signs those papers, you still won’t get that money,” Mr. Goddard said, his tone haughty and lawyer-like. If I were being questioned by him, I would totally pee my pants.

“You let me worry about getting the money,” William said, his eyes bulging in anger.

“How do you plan on getting it?” he asked him curiously. I figured he really didn’t care; he was just trying to buy us more time.

I started looking around the room, trying to find something that could potentially be used as a weapon. There wasn’t much. This hotel was clutter free and tidy. The lamps were bolted to the walls, and there weren’t heavy items like a vase sitting around. Even the TV was a flat screen that was also attached to the wall.

“I’m a lawyer,” William bragged. “I’ll tie this money up in court until I can find a loophole to make it mine.”

“And how do you think you’re going to get away with forcing her to sign those papers? For holding us at gunpoint?”

“Let’s not forget arson, kidnapping, hit and run, and attempted murder.”

“Hit and Run?” William said, looking genuinely confused.

“Shut up! Both of you!” the blonde yelled, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me to the desk. “Sign those!”

“He didn’t know you tried to run me over with a car the other day?” I asked her loudly.

“Is that true, Caroline?”

A pretty name for such an ugly person.

“What was I supposed to do, Liam? You were failing miserably. I mean, how hard could it be to kill this mouse of a girl?”

“You didn’t manage it either,” I snapped.

She backhanded me across the face. It was a solid slap, so solid my ears rang and my skin stung. “Shut. Up.”

Dizziness threatened me once again and my stomach churned. I grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself.

She grabbed up a very nice gold pen off the desk and shoved it at me. “Sign. Now.”

I took the pen and spread the papers out on the desk, pretending like I was leaning over them to scrawl my signature.

“I can’t believe you didn’t trust me!” William yelled, sounding like he might come unhinged at any second.

Caroline turned to her head to answer him and I struck out, bringing the pen up near my shoulder and then swinging it down and plunging it into the soft spot just above her collarbone between her shoulder and her neck.

She howled in pain and stumbled to the side. William cried her name and rushed to her side as he stared at the pen still sticking out of her body. Blood spurted out around it, looking like some sick fountain.

“Go!” I told Mr. Goddard, pointing toward the door. I was stuck behind the desk, but he could go for help.

He ran for the door, but William lunged after him, clubbing him over the head with the butt of the gun. Mr. Goddard sprawled forward and face-planted on the floor.

Please don’t let him be dead,
I prayed silently.

Then he turned back, a wild and uncontrolled look in his eyes.

Caroline made a sound and yanked the pen out of her body, holding it up and watching the blood drip off the end. “You little bitch,” she growled, tossing the pen aside. Blood was pouring down her arm and pooling in the low-cut neckline of her black dress.

She ripped the gun out of William’s hands and pointed it steadily at me. “I’m going to kill you.”

“Now, Caroline. Wait. She hasn’t signed the papers yet.”

“I’ll forge her name.”

William came forward, slipping between me and the gun. “Just wait a second, okay, sugar plum?”

Okay, that’s just nasty. He calls that beast of a woman
sugar plum
? The urge to vomit came back full force.

“Hurry up!”

William turned to me.

“I don’t have a pen anymore,” I said sheepishly. Then I looked around William at Caroline. “So tell me, were you sleeping with William before you married Tony or just when you figured out you might get some money out of it?”

She made a cry of outrage and re-aimed the gun. I saw the decision in her eyes the split second she decided to kill me. In a final attempt to save myself, I leapt to the side as the gun went off, grabbing William around the waist and using him as a shield.

I felt his body jerk as we both landed hard on the floor with him on top of me. He was heavy like a huge block of cement.

“Liam!” Caroline cried, rushing over just as I managed to push him off and roll from beneath him.

He groaned and fell onto his back. His midsection was drenched in blood. “You shot me.”

“Oh my God!” she cried and leaned over his body, weeping.

I took the chance to vault myself over the desk, grabbing the papers and rushing toward the door.

“Not so fast,” came a voice behind me along with the telltale cocking of the gun.

I froze.

“Turn around,” she ordered.

I did, pivoting around and looking at her. She was pale, and the gun wasn’t as steady in her hand as it was before. She was still pouring blood and now it coated her hands, but I couldn’t tell if it was hers or William’s.

“All you had to do was sign one little piece of paper,” she said, her voice deadly calm. “We would have let you live. But now… now I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

Please. She was such a liar. She and I both knew that they never had any intention of letting me live. Her words were a colossal waste of breath.

“Grab that pen,” she gestured to one lying on the nightstand by the bed.

I did as she asked.

“Sign the papers.”

I leaned down and used the top of the nightstand to write. When I was finished, I slapped the pen on top of the paper and stood. “There. Money’s all yours.”

She smiled with satisfaction as I picked up the alarm clock near my hand and threw it at her. It knocked the gun out of her hand, and I leapt at her, shoving her to the floor.

She screamed as I made a run for it, but she caught me around the ankle and yanked, causing me to lurch forward. Mr. Goddard broke my fall. I rolled, trying to kick at her so I could get up. But she outweighed me by at least thirty pounds and she was able to pin me to the floor easily by straddling my waist and using her body weight.

She wrapped her hands around my neck and applied pressure, cutting of my oxygen supply and making my lungs seize with panic.

Calm down,
I told myself.
Think!

I gripped her wrists, trying to pry them off me, but when spots began swimming before my eyes, I decided to try something else. Instead, I reached up and dug my nails into the hole in her shoulder. Her blood was sticky and hot.

She howled in pain, her grip slipping, and I gulped in air greedily. Then I rolled, knocking her off of me and pinning her to the ground. She clawed at me, scraping my arms and pinching my skin. I yanked her hair and drew my fist back to punch her.

But she caught my wrist and squeezed.

I screamed, pain burning up my arm and giving her the advantage of pushing me off her. As I rolled, my head hit the dresser and I gagged from the pain.

My vision got fuzzy around the edges and she leaned over me, her mouth moving as she spoke, but I didn’t hear any of it.

This was it.

I was going to pass out and then she would shoot me.

At least I wouldn’t be awake when I died.

My eyes began to feel heavy and as they closed, I thought of Holt. Of the future we would never have.

I heard him talking to me, asking me to wake up.

I smiled at the way my brain remembered the exact sound of his voice.

Cold water splashed over my face and my eyes sprang open as I gasped at the icy droplets hitting my skin.

“Katie!” Holt yelled, sliding his hand beneath my head and leaning over me. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t my imagination. He was here!

“Holt?” I said, my voice sounding far away.

“Everything’s okay now. You’re safe.”

“You’re here,” I said.

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m here.”

The fog in my brain cleared away and my eyes focused on his face. The cut above his eyebrow was swollen and oozing. He had blood smeared all over his face and his eye was turning a nasty shade of purple.

“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” I demanded, trying to sit up but groaning and falling back down.

“Easy,” he murmured.

“Hospital,” I reminded him.

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Someone groaned inside the room. It sounded like Caroline, and I gripped Holt’s arm. “She has a gun!”

“Not anymore,” he said, grim, anger playing across his features.

And then the room was swarmed by police officers and EMTs. Holt picked me up and cradled me against his chest. He sat down on the bed, keeping me in his lap.