“Peri!” Jack shouted in anger as his shot went wild.
A low, guttural snarl rumbled through her. Grit pinching her palms, she rose. Jack turned at the sound of her boots scraping on the pavement, but it was too late as she launched herself at him.
They crashed into the car and went down; Jack’s face was awash with surprise. “You didn’t draft! How!”
“I didn’t have to,” she snarled, then head-butted him to get him to let go of her.
He cried out and her hands were free.
Grabbing her head, he slammed it into the concrete dock.
Stars blotted her sight. Gasping for breath, she hit his face with her elbow, and he shoved her away as his nose gushed bright red blood.
She rolled, cursing herself. She’d lost the advantage of surprise, and with it, her chance at the handgun. Pages from her diary were slipping from her, and Jack’s expression became ugly as he realized why his shot hadn’t done anything. “That is so clichéd,” he said as he staggered to his feet and brought up his handgun.
“It goes with the joke you made of my life,” she said, then dove to the pavement when he pulled the trigger.
The bullet winged away and Peri came up into a fighting stance, staggering when her wounded leg gave out. Jack followed her down, pinning her to the pavement, and she stopped, feeling the hard blunt end of a pistol against her kidney. He was inches away, feeling both familiar and threatening atop her.
How many times have we played this out? she wondered, then gasped when chunks of concrete peppered them, cutting her face and making Jack look up.
“Why do you care!” Jack shouted, and the pistol lifted from her to point at Silas.
Peri jerked her arm free and smashed her palm into his already broken nose.
Jack screamed. His fist lashed out. She couldn’t move to escape it, and it hit her full-on.
Pain exploded in her face. She couldn’t see. She struggled to keep from vomiting as vertigo swamped her.
And then she could breathe as Jack was ripped off her.
Bleary, she rolled to her stomach. Silas and Jack fought hand-to-hand on the concrete. Gasping, she sat up and looked for the gun, spotting it flung off to the side. Holding her stomach, she pushed herself up and staggered toward it. He’d hit her so hard she couldn’t walk straight.
“Silas, get clear!” she shouted, and he howled, getting in one last punch before he rolled to his feet and away.
Jack lurched upright. Expression wild, he didn’t see her as he screamed and went for Silas. Her hand trembled, and she shot at the ground at his feet. Shrapnel sprayed up, and Jack halted, his head snapping around. Arms held out before her, Peri pointed the gun and shook. She had him!
“Peri?” Silas shouted, hunched and afraid to move. “Oh God. Don’t kill him. He’s your past. You need him to tell you your past!”
“I don’t need him!” she raged. She wasn’t scared. She was angry with herself for being tempted, knowing that it would always be there. The cracks would never mend. She wanted what only Jack could give her, and she hated that part of herself, even as it kept her alive.
Slowly Jack pulled himself to his full height, his eyes going from her to Silas. “You’re not going to shoot me, babe.”
Her arms shook, but her gaze never left him. “Stop calling me that!” she shouted, her throat going raw. “And why not? You killed me first.” The words were hard as they fell from her. Hands quivering, she said, “Silas? Will you take this for me?”
Silas eased up beside her, and the muzzle of the weapon steadied as he took it. Jack’s expression went grim. Being careful to stay out of Silas’s line of sight, Peri eased up to Jack. She was almost light-headed from spent adrenaline. It would pass. Grunting, she kicked the back of his legs to make him kneel, and he hit the pavement hard. “I want very much to shoot you,” she said from behind him, her words hardly above a whisper. “But Silas is right. You’re useful.” Reaching behind her coat, she brought out the damaged diary and tapped it against his bloody face. “One way or the other.”
Jack clenched his teeth, and she backed up, not trusting that his desire to remain unshot was stronger than his desire to throttle her. “If he moves, shoot him,” she said, retreating to stand with Silas. “Can I use your phone?”
“Back pocket.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she gave Jack a smile as she fished it out. “You knew Jack was alive, didn’t you?” she asked Silas.
“I didn’t know he was in Allen’s car,” he said, and Peri made a sad laugh. “Fran wouldn’t trust you until you settled it with Jack. Peri. It’s truly over. Are you mad at me?”
Over? It wasn’t over. She’d almost said yes to Jack. She’d wanted to say yes, and even though she had said no, it sickened her. She couldn’t go back to the alliance now. She didn’t trust herself—and they would never trust her.