Tiffany Snow - Point of No Return

Relief that James hadn’t killed Kade was followed by more fear as he turned the gun on me.

“Your turn,” he said.

Kade was yelling around the gag, but James ignored him, his entire focus on me. He placed the barrel of the gun between my breasts, then drew it down through the blood he’d spilled on my skin.

“Don’t do this, James,” I said. “You don’t want to hurt me. I’m your angel, remember?” I was babbling, trying to figure out anything I could say that would end this nightmare.

James’s finger tightened on the trigger and my muscles tensed, as though I was bracing myself. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Another click of an empty chamber.

My breath let out in a loud gasp and I snapped my eyes open. James looked pleased.

He reached out again, and I had to steel my resolve as he began to touch me, his hand painting blood over my breasts and stomach. Bile rose in my throat and each second that passed felt like an eternity.

“You should untie me,” I managed to choke out. “So I can . . . touch you, too.”

But James just shook his head. “You’re an angel,” he murmured. “You’ll disappear if I untie you.” His words were nonsensical and I began to fear that he was on some kind of drug, which meant reasoning with him was going to be impossible.

“The last test,” he murmured.

My arms strained at the ties holding me as James reached for the knife again. To my surprise, he sliced through the bonds holding my wrists, then carelessly tossed the knife away. Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulled me up so our chests were pressed together. He placed his head alongside mine and held the muzzle of the gun to my ear.

“Decide our fate, angel,” he said. “I’ll pull the trigger and we’ll see if we die together, or not at all.”

The blood slickened our bodies and my ankles were still tied, preventing me from getting away. My hands were free now, but his hold was too tight, the muzzle of the gun pressed painfully hard against my head.

“Decide our fate,” he repeated. “Decide . . .”

He had already pulled the trigger twice. With a six-round chamber, my chances didn’t look good.

I didn’t want to die.

The sharp click of the hammer falling made me flinch, a whimper escaping from between my lips. Three pulls. Three empty chambers.

I had no idea why James had decided to free my arms, but now that I could move, a blood lust like I’d never felt before rose in me. He’d pulled that trigger one too many times. A haze of red filled my eyes as rage consumed me—and if I’d never before slept in Blane’s bed, I wouldn’t have known how to save myself.

Blane was an extremely cautious man who’d spent too much time in a war zone, sleeping in places that could go from relatively safe to highly dangerous in minutes. It was the ingrained SEAL in him that had made him hide a knife behind the center of the headboard. The first time I’d spotted it, he’d been up-front and unapologetic about why it was there, acknowledging that while it didn’t make a lot of sense outside a war zone, it helped him sleep better at night.

I reached up, my hand unerringly finding the knife and pulling it from its sheath. I didn’t hesitate, despite the gun still held to my head, and put all my strength into driving the blade down, straight into James’s chest.

James froze. His face was creased in lines of pain as he looked down at the knife protruding from his chest. His fingers seemed to go numb, the gun falling from his hand. I grabbed it, pointing it at him.

As he looked at me, his face cleared. “How can I hate you and love you at the same time?” he asked.

“You don’t love me,” I hissed. “You’re a monster. You don’t know what love is.”

Suddenly, Kade was there, beside me. I had no idea how he’d gotten free, but his hand settled over mine.

“Don’t kill him,” Kade said. “You can’t take something like that back. I’ll do it.”

“No,” I said, pushing his hand away. “He would’ve killed you, me, and our baby. He deserves to die.” Hatred coursed through my veins and I didn’t take my eyes off James.

“Yes, he does, but you don’t need to be the one to do it,” Kade insisted.

“In this case, yes, I do.”

James closed his eyes, raising his face heavenward. “I’m ready. Kill me, my angel.”

“Go to hell.” I pulled the trigger, the report of the one bullet left in the chamber reverberating through the room. The aim couldn’t be off, not this close, and the wound was dead center in his chest.

James’s body collapsed.

Kade lifted me bodily from the bed, holding me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn’t mind. Shock was setting in and my skin felt ice-cold.

“How did you get free?” I asked, twisting to look at the chair he’d been taped to.

“James tossed that knife and it landed near me,” Kade said. “He hadn’t taped my legs, so I got bendy and managed to get the knife up to my hand.”

“I want the blood off,” I said.

It took three washings before I felt clean, Kade grabbing Blane’s robe and wrapping me in its depths once I was through.

“Come on,” he said, helping me from the room.

My gaze caught on James’s body lying on Blane’s bed, blood pooling underneath him, his sightless eyes staring. Never again would he be able to terrorize me or the ones I loved. I didn’t have an ounce of regret for killing him.

From the den, Kade called Chance. It took him less than fifteen minutes to get there, and he brought Lucy, too.

Lucy sat with me on the couch, holding my hand, while Kade took Chance upstairs and explained what had happened. The kitchen door had been the one James had broken in through, then hitting Kade with a stun gun before searching the house for me.

It took a couple of hours for Chance to call it in, the ME to come collect the body, and for Kade and me to give our statements. Chance looked grim as he took my statement, giving me a long hug when I was through.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said roughly, his eyes wet.

“Me too.”

Mona and Gerard came to see what the fuss was about, alarmed that the police had come to the house in the middle of the night. I kept things vague. No need for Mona to know the details of what had transpired in Blane’s bedroom. She made me a cup of tea, which helped warm me up.

I refused to go to the hospital. I was all right. Nothing damaged that wouldn’t heal. I just wanted to be alone with Kade. I kept looking at him as he handled the police and the questions and the paramedics.

James could so easily have killed Kade. I knew that if he had, I wouldn’t have been able to fight James off. I’d have made him keep pulling that trigger until both of us had a hole in our heads.

Finally, Kade was bundling me into his car. I think we both knew we didn’t want to stay at the house tonight. He drove us to a hotel, and not one that rented rooms by the hour.

The guy at the desk didn’t bat an eye at the robe I was wearing, and soon Kade had whisked me up the elevator. I wanted another shower—I still felt like James’s blood was on me. Kade set me gently on the bed in the suite before running a bath. He helped me into the steaming water, then sank to his knees on the floor next to the tub. His hands dipped into the water as he tenderly washed me, his touch so careful, as though he thought I would break apart.

Afterward, he lifted me from the tub, the water soaking his shirt, then patted my skin dry with a towel and wrapped a hotel robe around me. He carried me to the bed and tucked me against him as he sat with his back to the headboard. I noticed that his free hand, resting on the mattress, held a gun.

“Put that away,” I said quietly. “Rest with me.”