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“Any chance he’ll negotiate this, let it end any other way?”
“No, sir.”
The call ended.
Whittaker grabbed the phone. “What did he say?”
“He’s working on it. He wants to save me.”
“Of course he does. He’s smart enough to know what’s of value. That the corrupt must die. That the world must be purged.”
Jenna’s arm was a few inches too short to reach Gray’s backup weapon from her position. She wiggled, trying to scoot across on the floor. The sound drew Whittaker’s attention.
He turned and saw her trying to get to the gun. He kicked out and Gray heard the crunch of Jenna’s ribs. As Jenna curled in on herself, Whittaker grabbed for the gun. Gray watched as though time had slowed down. Whittaker fingers closed around the metal and then his brains splattered on the floor and he collapsed.
Jenna screamed.
Gray turned to the window, where a neat hole from a sniper’s rifle had punctured the glass. Thornton’s team had come through. It was over.
For several seconds Gray remained frozen, staring at Whittaker’s corpse. Then the world seemed to move again. He struggled against his bonds.
“It’s okay,” he said as much to himself as to Jenna. “He’s dead. It’s going to be okay.”
He didn’t know if she could hear him over her own screaming. The sound would stay with him forever.
Cops rushed the room. Gray didn’t know when he’d ever been happier to see someone he could trust. An officer cut him loose and another bent over Jenna, loosening her bonds and trying to calm her.
Gray moved to her side as soon as he was free. “It’s okay. I’m here to help. I’m going to take you to the paramedics.”
Despite his soothing tone, she fought the officer’s efforts to lift her.
“Let me take her. She knows me,” Gray said.
The officer nodded and backed away.
“Jenna, it’s Gray. You’re safe now. I swear it.”
She struggled for a few more seconds, then relaxed against him, finally seeming to accept that she was safe. He vaguely registered that one of the officers was checking Whittaker for a pulse. No way in hell did he have one, not when he was missing a good part of his head.
Gray just hoped to God he wouldn’t keep seeing Whittaker die again and again in his dreams. He remained kneeling by Jenna.
She glanced up at him. “You’re shaking too.”
Was he? Yeah, he guessed he was. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak right then. He needed someone to hold him, to comfort him, but it would be hours before he could get home to Jack and Mason. He hoped he could hold it together until then. He should let them know he was okay before they saw all this on the news, but he didn’t know where his phone was and Jenna was bleeding on him.
Jenna whimpered when he lifted her to carry her to where the paramedics were waiting. She clung to him, tears streaking her bloodstained face, when he tried to set her down.
“Stay with me. Please,” she begged.
“Of course.” Gray sat her down and held her hand, nodding to the paramedics. “Multiple stab wounds and broken ribs. I’m not sure about anything else.”
A few minutes later, they had her hooked up to an IV to replenish her fluids and a woman was stitching up the wound in her side, the worst of the gashes he’d seen. The paramedics determined she’d lost a lot of blood, but she didn’t have any serious damage. Whittaker had been careful, working her over in a way that wouldn’t kill her before he was ready.
But if Gray hadn’t found her… The world wavered before him. Fuck. Even sitting down he was dizzy.
One of the paramedics laid a hand on his shoulder. “We should take a look at you.”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. He didn’t touch me.”
