Blind: Killer Instincts (27 page)

Emma’s heart hammered against her ribs and she couldn’t get a breath into her lungs. She didn’t want to die. There was a lot left to live for.

Colorado, for one. She wanted to go away with Jacob. Her motocross team had a big championship and she was supposed to lead the training. Thoughts slipped through her fingers like sand. The only thing she could hold onto was the regret that she hadn’t had time to know Jacob better. To tell him she was falling in love with him.

“Let go of my arm,” Max growled.

He’d said he’d come for her, and he had.

Fear and anger mixed. She wanted to punch his lights out, to give him as much pain as he’d given her friends. He pressed the blade against her throat. It was a hunting knife. One of the medium sized ones Simon used during deer season. Max meant business.

She released her grip, balling her hands into fists. Were they wet? No, they were damp and sticky. But not with sweat. Something else. What the hell?

“There are zip ties next to the door. Put those on your wrists, or I’ll start with her throat.” Max’s voice had changed from the gangly teen she remembered. It was deeper and more mature now, but he would have aged.

“Max, you don’t have to do this,” Jacob kept speaking, his voice low, calm. It was crazy how composed he was. One second he’d been her lover, and the next he was the cop.

“Of course I have to do this. The cuffs, or she gets it.” Max pressed the blade to her throat, just a bit.

Think.

She had to use her head.

Emma sucked down a deep breath.

She wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

If Max got his way, she wasn’t going to walk out of this situation. He was only there to complete his ritual. If he were trying to get away, he shouldn’t have come after her. At this point, his end game was their death, probably followed by his own. She’d studied men like him. She knew this. Which meant there was no point in cooperating with him. She was dead one way or the other, which meant going along with what he wanted got her nothing but dead his way.

Those thoughts made her stomach knot up. The adrenaline pounding in her veins made her palms sweat and for a blessed second the clamor of thoughts quietened.

She didn’t run from anything, and she wasn’t about to let this creepadoodle kill her without putting up one hell of a fight. If he killed her, she’d make sure he had to work for it.

But she wasn’t alone, either. She had her cop.

Against Jacob and her, she didn’t think Max had a chance. Not if she could get out of his hold. Until she was free, Jacob would do whatever he asked. It was that damn, rule-following cop part of him. He had to be willing to take a risk, even with her life.

Jacob’s gaze flicked to her. He shook his head slightly, as if he knew she was thinking of doing something. Well, he knew her pretty damn well if he realized that. She nodded, slightly. Max wouldn’t get what he wanted. He wouldn’t get to kill them both.

She sucked in a deep breath, calming herself as much as she could. It was hard to think past the knife slowly sawing at her neck as he shifted behind her.

“I’m going to bend down and get the zip ties, okay buddy?” Jacob said.

“Do it already,” Max snapped. He jabbed the knife toward the ground, where the thick ties lay on the floor, ready for this moment. How long had he been there if he already had this set up?

This was her opening.

Emma slammed her elbow into his ribs and kicked backward. He grunted and stumbled.

She ducked and twisted away from him, striking out again, but he dug a hand into her hair, yanking her back. She shrieked and clawed at him, but his hold was too tight. He brought his knee up and drove her face down into the blow. Pain jolted through her body and she gasped. Her vision swam and hazed to black.

Fuck, that was going to leave a mark.

“No! No, Emma,” Jacob yelled.

The hell she was going down without a fight. She twisted again and felt hair rip from her scalp. She punched Max straight in the junk with everything she had. His grip on her hair loosened and she was free.

Jacob roared as he shouldered past her, slamming into Max. The two men crashed into the boxes, knocking them over as they grappled and struggled with each other. All she could see were legs kicking.

Max came out on top of Jacob. She saw the flash of the knife, heard Jacob cry out, and she screamed. She grabbed the closest thing to her—a broken shovel? What the hell? She swung, hitting Max with everything she had in the back of the head. He slumped forward. Jacob rolled with him. He punched Max a few times. Max’s body was completely limp.

“Get my cuffs,” he yelled at her.

She looked around at the mess. “They’re not here.”

“Zip ties.”

She grabbed them and pushed the boxes away from Max, who was groaning. Any second now he’d come around, and she didn’t want a repeat of what they’d gone through.

“Oh my God.” She shuddered. Max looked completely different. Blond. Clean shaven. There wasn’t anything of the kid she’d met before. In fact. “I know him.”

Max’s hair had been darker a few days ago. He’d made some joke when she was paying for gas that she’d laughed at. He’d been in her life for months.

“Emma. Christ. I can’t let go of him. Put the zip ties around his wrists.”

“Like this?” She bent and did as he asked.

“Yeah, that’s good. Fucking hell. Where’s my phone? Call 9-1-1.” Jacob groaned and sat back on his heels. Blood stained the front of his shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” She stared at the growing stain. She’d seen people bleed plenty. Motocross wasn’t a tame sport, but those people weren’t Jacob.

“Emma, my phone?”

She searched in the area where Jacob had last placed his things, but everything was gone or tossed on the floor except for his keys, which were now by the bed.

“It’s not here, either. There’s nothing. Just your keys. My phone’s gone, too.”

“Oh fucking hell.” Jacob got to his feet and quick stepped out of the way as Max came to and began thrashing around. “Get out of here, Emma.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You aren’t leaving me, you’re letting me do my job.” He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the bedroom.

“But...”

Someone pounded on the front door.

“FBI.”

The boxes tumbled around in the room as Max struggled even more.

“Jacob,” she yelled as Max stood up, his hands free.

Jacob whirled to face the threat. The front door burst open, and officers spilled into the house. Lights from the backyard indicated more coming that way.

Max stepped into the doorway, a smaller knife in his hand.

Blood dripped down his left arm.

He stared straight at Emma and said, “I’ll see you again.”

“Fuck never,” she said before she could think better of it.

Her words turned into a scream as Max plunged the little knife through his ear. He gurgled something and fell forward, landing on the knife.

“Oh my God,” she said over and over again as shudders took her.

A pool of red formed around him in a matter of seconds.

“Emma, Emma, come on.” Jacob wrapped his good arm around her and ushered her out of the house.

The quiet street was alive with people, lights and cars. She blinked around as officers and people rushed past them.

“Don’t you ever do that again.” Jacob pulled her in, hugging her to his side.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. Who cared about a little blood when they were still breathing? She buried her face against his shoulder. He squeezed harder and shifted.

“Fuck,” she bellowed, backing away and cupping her hands over her nose. “That hurts.”

“That’s probably because your nose is broken. Come here.” He took her by the hand. This time, she hugged him and kept her aching face up. “We’re alive.”

Emma sucked in another deep breath and blinked back tears. She was not a girl who cried, but damn if that wasn’t a lot to process.

“We’re alive,” he whispered again and kissed her brow.

She clutched him tighter and rested her forehead on his shoulder. Yup, blood was dripping from her face. Just great. But—she was alive to bleed, and laugh, and love.

Jacob closed the door to his house, flipping the locks into place. He shuddered and twisted the locks once more. Max had to have come in by way of a window at Amanda’s. He’d have to check those as well so he could rest knowing Emma was safe.

Emma had already kicked off her shoes and padded into the kitchen.

The sun was creeping up over the horizon, bathing the room in a warm glow. He still flipped on all the lights. It would be a while before he would be okay walking into a dark room. Those images of Max with a knife, Emma against his chest, would stick with him. He’d almost lost her back there.

How had someone he’d just met come to mean so much to him? The idea of his future without Emma in it made his chest constrict and his stomach tie into knots.

She was alive.

He shook the dark thoughts from his mind and followed her.

“Can I get you anything?” He carried her bag into the den and set it down on the couch.

“Something to make my face stop pounding would be awesome.” She sounded completely congested. Her face had swollen, and dark bruises were forming on her cheek bones.

But she was alive.

“I could give you some of my drugs.” He pulled the pharmacy bag out of the pocket he’d stuffed it in and rattled it at her.

“You need that more than I do.”

He’d popped one pill on the doctor’s orders after getting the stab wounds looked at and hadn’t been able to walk a straight line. Between them, they needed a ride from the hospital to his house. It was a pretty pathetic situation, but
they were alive.

“Want something to eat?” he asked.

She shook her head and glanced away, through the back doors into the yard. The officers had shown him the set-up at the house behind Amanda’s. It had appeared as though Max’s plan was to force them from the duplex to the house and go through the ritual there. They’d even found Max’s laptop with the surveillance running. He’d left out all except the most necessary details when filling Emma in on things. She didn’t need to know. Because while she was tough, she wasn’t unbreakable.

He went to her, pulling her into another hug. She might not need it, but he did. For the span of a few minutes, he’d been certain she was going to die. A hundred outcomes had flashed through his head, all of which resulted in her death.

She clenched him tight, proof he wasn’t the only one who needed support.

Losing her would be losing part of himself. At some point she’d stolen his heart, and he didn’t have a hope or a prayer at getting it back, not that he wanted it. His heart was better left in her hands. So long as she stayed among the land of the living.

The words, those three little words, stuck in his throat.

They’d faced death and lived; yet admitting how he felt still scared him.

Emma stared up at him with a very serious, somber expression. There was no light, no laughter. She’d pulled her hair into a knot on top of her head, tendrils hanging around her face. His heart clenched at the thought of the pain she had to be feeling and the torment she’d been through tonight.

If only he’d been a better protector...

“I love you,” she said.

He stared at her. Had he passed out? Was this a dream?

“I know it’s stupid, and fast, and you’re probably going to read me some psycho-analyzing bullshit, but I love you. And I could have died tonight without telling you that.” Her voice trembled and her gaze dropped to his chest. A fat tear rolled down her cheek, the first he’d seen.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry.” He could handle anything—except her tears. And her death. So two things.

“Look, don’t make this awkward, okay?” She sniffled but allowed him to lift her chin. He hadn’t really thought a tough, independent woman like Emma, who had to have a line of guys waiting for their chance, would tell him she loved him.

“It’s only awkward if you don’t mean it.”

She glared at him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” she said.

“I’m not. I’m just saying...I was standing here thinking how much...how much I love you too, and that it scared the shit out of me to think about saying it.”

Her glare lost its heat, her eyes widening and jaw dropping.

“I thought it would be too much to put that on you, but—”

“Say it again.”

He took a deep breath and the last bit of tension left his body.

“I love you.”

She blinked at him, as if she wasn’t sure he was serious.

“I went to meet you expecting you to be something you weren’t. You’ve surprised me, pissed me off, made me laugh, and more than anything, you make me want you. So yeah, I was too scared to tell you I loved you first.”

Her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She relaxed, leaning into him. “It’s not weird?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of people who will call us crazy.” He shrugged and tried to keep his gaze away from her mouth.

“Kiss me—gently, okay?”

He chuckled at her insistence and, very carefully, pressed his mouth to hers. The things he wanted to do to her would have to wait. She lifted up on tip-toes.

“Ouch.” She twisted away, cupping her hands over her face. “Not fair!

She laughed despite the pain.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she grumbled.

“Come here.” He gathered her to his chest and squeezed her as tight as he could without aggravating his shoulder or her broken nose.

There would be a Colorado in their future, and much, much more.

Black Widow threw the remote across the room. “No! God damn it.”

The top story was about the TBK copycat’s suicide.

Max hadn’t run, he hadn’t done the honorable thing and taken his own life
before
there was a scene. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to clean this mess up.

She paced the length of her living room, seething. She’d planned for an instance like this, but this was too early. There were still plans in the works. Max’s shortcomings could seriously fuck up the chances for the rest of them to succeed.