“You let them go, I let you go,” I said simply. “On my honor.”
Chris's knife faltered, and he looked at me in slight distrust. “Why would I trust you?”
I shrugged and sat down on the chair, even though it took everything in my power to do it. “You trusted me, gave me a place to stay. You could have turned me out, let me fucking hang. You didn't. I owe you my life. I think this makes us even.”
Chris's knife faltered, drawing away from Shawnie's throat, which is what I wanted. What I didn't plan on, however, was Shawnie. Seemingly trapped in a drug-induced state, she threw her head back, her skull smashing into Chris's nose and mouth, sending him stumbling backward into the wall.
I was out of the chair and on him in a flash. Driving low, I hit him hard with my shoulder in his stomach, lifting him and bouncing him again off the side of the garage. The knife fell from his hand to clatter on the ground, out of his grasp and temporarily out of my concern.
Not giving him a chance to recover, I threw him to the side, bouncing his body off the floor before nailing him under the chin, snapping his head up and back with a kick that would have put a football through the uprights at a good distance. I stood over him, trembling while the killer inside me warred against the better half of my nature, until finally a compromise was reached.
“Never trust a convicted killer.” I spat at the unconscious body. I kicked him as hard as I could in the ribs, feeling something give way under my foot with a satisfying crunch. “Sick fuck.”
I heard a whimper behind me and I turned, seeing Shawnie's desperate and half-lidded, drugged out eyes. “Sorry, Shawnie. I'll try and be gentle.”
I stood up and looked at the bonds Shawnie was being held with, trying to figure out what to do, when I heard a choked gasp behind me. “Abby?”
Patrick's body hit the floor before I could even get to him, his hands clutching at the left side of his chest. His face was paper white, except for two bright red blotches on his cheeks. He looked like a porcelain doll in a perverse way. “Heart . . .”
“Don't you fucking die on me,” I growled, pulling him up and out of the garage and back into the kitchen. I lifted his feet up and grabbed the other kitchen chair, elevating his legs and hopefully helping his heart. You're supposed to do it for shock, but I had to do something. “Hold on, the cops will be here in a second.”
I could hear the car approaching, far too slow for my taste. “Move it, you fucking Deputy Dawgs!” I screamed before loosening Patrick's clothing. “I can't do all this shit by myself!”
“Abby?” Patrick whispered, reaching up and taking my hand. I squeezed his fingers, staying next to him. “Where's Abby?”
“She's fine,” I said, lying through my teeth. I had no fucking clue how Abby was, except that she was alive. “I don't think Chris touched her.”
“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. His head sagged back, and I leaned down, checking him. No heartbeat.
“Shit!” I grunted, tearing open his shirt to double check. “Don't you fucking die on me, old man!”
I heard Abby stirring in the garage, just as the cop car stopped outside. The doors to the car closed, and I heard the scrape of boots on the dirt. “Move your asses, boys!” I yelled even as I interlaced my hands and looked for the compression point. It’d been years, but the basics of giving CPR were still there in my mind. “I've got a man in cardiac arrest in here!”
Chapter 17
Abby
I came to slowly, groggy from the slap Chris had hit me with. When I did, the first thing I noticed was that I was lying on the ground with a woman kneeling above me. “Miss Rawlings?”
“Who are you?” I muttered, blinking. The light was now dim, but I had a pounding headache. “Where is Shawnie?”
“Your friend is being looked after,” the woman replied. “I'm Debbie Morgan. I'm a cop.”
“What happened?” I asked, rubbing my head.
“Mr. Lake has been arrested. He's in an ambulance as well,” the cop said. She helped me sit up, making sure I kept my head down and between my knees. I noticed that I'd been covered with a blanket, which helped explain why I was so warm. “Your friend and your father are also on the way to the hospital.”
“Daddy?” I asked, jerking my head up and sending a lightning bolt of pain through my head. “Is he all right?”
“Your father was taken to the hospital with chest pains,” the cop replied. “We're going to take you there as soon as a car gets here. We had to get the others out of here first.”
“Dane?” I asked. “I heard him before Chris knocked me out.”
“Mr. Bell?” The cop asked, then pointed. “He's been arrested too. We'll make sure he won’t hurt you again.”