CHAPTER 18
My eyes bulged both from the shock and the pressure on my throat. I gasped for air, and got nothing. My nails dug into his arms, drawing blood, but his grip never loosened. His lips were tight with exertion as he squeezed. There was no question he was trying to kill me…and would kill me.
“Everyone wants you dead,” he grunted, his voice cold and alien.
I didn’t have time to dwell on what was wrong with him or why everyone, including him, wanted me dead. Spots filled my vision as the blackness closed in. This time, Nathan wouldn’t save me.
Desperation kicked in. I dug my nails deeper, and hit him when that didn’t work. I kicked his shin and stomped on his feet. His response was to coolly press his thumb into my windpipe so hard I feared he would snap it in half.
There was no use trying any of the self-defense moves he had shown me. He had control now and beat me ninety-nine percent of the time anyway, in practice, when he wasn’t trying. He was definitely trying now.
I was seconds from unconsciousness and death—at the hands of the one I had come to count on. This time, my life was in my own hands. It was up to me, and there was only one thing I thought of that might work.
I packed as much force as I could behind my knee as I drove it up and into his groin. His grip loosened as he doubled over, allowing me to slip from his grasp and take a ragged breath.
He reached for me, but I dodged him and brought my knee up again. It connected with his face, and sent him stumbling back as blood spurted from his nose. I didn’t stop to admire my accomplishment this time.
I ran.
He wouldn’t stay down long and, when he recovered, I would need a weapon. My only chance was to make it to the shed. I glanced over my shoulder as I jumped off the porch, and saw him coming fast behind me. I put my head down and pumped my arms and legs harder.
I reached the shed, scrambled through the door, and picked up the first weapon I found. I spun around, lifting a pistol, as Nathan appeared in the doorway.
He cocked his head to the side like he was amused to see me armed, but didn’t come any closer. I backed up, putting as much distance between myself and him as I could, until I bumped into the counter behind me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I shouted at him.
Something had to be wrong. It was like he was possessed.
He grinned wickedly and took a menacing step forward. His eyes shifted to the counter to his right, to the weapons just out of his reach. Only two swift steps separated him from them.
“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. My hands shook so hard I was in danger of dropping the gun, but I kept it trained on him. If he lunged for the weapons, I would have to shoot him. Otherwise, I would be dead the moment he had something in his hands.
It was me or him.
He took a step to his right.
I wondered if the gun had coated or regular bullets. If I knew it was loaded with non-coated bullets, I could wound him and buy myself some time to determine what was wrong him. If they were coated, and I was forced to shoot him, I would kill him.
I wasn’t sure I was prepared to do that. Not to anyone. Especially him.
“Don’t make me shoot you,” I pleaded.
He lifted a foot to take another step, and his callous grin dared me to pull the trigger. I had a second to convince myself to shoot. I pointed the gun at his knee and prayed the bullets weren’t coated.
A thunderous shot rang out. He fell forward, face down and motionless. And then he was gone.
“No!” I screamed.
No, no, no, no.
I stared in disbelief at the spot on the floor where he had fallen. I had adjusted my aim, I knew I had. I didn’t even remember pulling the trigger, but I must have because Nathan was gone. Dead and gone.
And then he wasn’t.
He rounded the corner of the shed frantically, concern etched all over his face. I automatically lifted the gun rattling in my hands and pointed it at him. Again.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he shouted. He threw his arms out in front of him, with the gun in his hands held out to me in a nonthreatening way. His eyes raked over me anxiously. “Are you hurt?”
What? I grimaced at him. I couldn’t have imagined it. My throat was still raw from being strangled, nearly to death. “You j—you just tried to kill me.” My wail sounded like a question because I had no idea what was happening.
His eyes lowered to the crimson spot on the floor. It was evidence that I had not imagined the body that had fallen there a moment ago. So how was he standing in front of me now?
“It wasn’t me, Kris,” Nathan said slowly.
“What?” I half choked, half whimpered.
“It was a mirror image of me,” he explained as he edged closer, and motioned over his shoulder. “I killed two of his buddies behind the cabin. I saw him chasing you in here, and I shot him. It was me who shot.”
I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t wrap my head around what he was telling me. I wasn’t capable of computing two plus two. “You can create mirror images of each other?”
He nodded. “Some can.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“I didn’t think that was something you would need to know yet.” He visibly regretted omitting that tidbit of information now.
“Everybody wants me dead.” I kept the gun raised, shakily fixed on him.
“I don’t,” he said softly. “I’ve invested way too much time and energy into keeping you safe all this time to want you dead now, don’t you think?”
“Don’t over explain things. Just say what you mean!”
“I thought I did.” He took a careful step toward me, holding his hands out like I was an escaped circus animal he was attempting to tame. His eyes held mine unflinchingly. He looked sincere, and I wanted to believe him. I really did.
He took another step. Too close. “Stop!” I yelled.
He straightened, and his eyes lowered to the gun as it rattled in my hands. We both knew it was more likely that I would unintentionally pull the trigger from shaking so hard than on purpose.
“Kris,” he said gently. “Give me the gun.”
He took another step forward. From this close range, if I pulled the trigger, I would kill him. I wanted to trust him, because I didn’t think I could ever kill him. Not really. Just thinking about those few seconds when I thought I had, I wanted to cry.
I wanted the gun out of my hands now.
“Nathan…”
“It’s okay.” He reached slowly and grabbed the barrel. “Let me take it.”
I released my grip and let him pull it from my grasp. My hands dropped to my sides numbly as he engaged the safety and placed the gun on the counter behind me. His hands gripped my shoulders tightly. I expected a shake and a good tongue lashing, but got neither. He must have been more afraid I was going to shoot him than I thought.
He was too stunned to yell at me. That was a new one.
His eyes lowered to my neck and hardened at what he saw there. One hand moved from my shoulder and followed the path of his gaze. Goose bumps prickled under his fingers as they skimmed over my skin. It was a little embarrassing what his simple touch did to me. I hoped he didn’t notice. When his eyes rose to mine again, I had a difficult time meeting them. His hand fisted and dropped to his side.
“Kris,” he said gently. “I would never do anything to harm you. You know that, right?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. He was standing so close, and my skin still tingled from where he had touched me. As if noticing our proximity for the first time, he straightened and backed up a step, enough for me to breath normally again.
His lips lifted into a ghost of a smile. “If I do, you have my permission to shoot me.”
I finally met his eyes and smiled. “I’ll remember that.”
He nodded. Behind his clouded eyes, I saw the silent promise he made himself. When he said he would never harm me, he meant it. Nor woul
d he let anyone else harm me.
My hero was back, with a newfound determination.