Page 158 of D for Dead

The man froze, both he and Amy looking over to where Jake stood; then it happened quick, Troy was behind her, using her as a shield, as he pressed the blade to her throat.

‘Put the knife down, Troy. It’s over.’

‘Fuck you. Drop the gun or I’ll slit her throat.’

Jake hesitated, memories of Denny flashing into his mind.

‘Shoot him,’ Amy urged. ‘He’ll kill me anyway.’

She was being brave, but he heard the edge of fear in her tone. Still she wriggled against Troy, anger flashing into her eyes.

‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘It’s true. And if I’m going to die, I want you to die too. You’re not a man; you’re a worthless, lowlife, pathetic excuse for a human being.’

‘Shut up!’ Troy repeated, pressing the knife tighter, drawing blood.

Jake sucked in a breath, squeezed the trigger.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, opened them to see Troy’s grip slip on Amy as his eyes went wide, blood gushing from the bullet hole in his head as he fell to the floor.

Amy let out a breath.

She was okay. Thank God she was okay.

Relief lit up her face, then her eyes went wide. ‘Oh my God.’ She started screaming.

Jake felt the pain in his back, was aware of the blade twisting inside him. His gun dropped to the floor and, as the room started to swim, he dropped to his knees. Blackness took hold and then he felt nothing.

* * *

Amy continued to scream as Rivers walked slowly towards her, the bloody knife he had used to stab Sullivan, dripping in his hand.

No, he can’t be dead, he can’t be dead. Please no.

Rivers’ focus was on Troy, his face contorted with pain and anger. ‘No!’

As he howled in anguish, sobbing over the body of his dead friend, Amy cried for Jake, wanting to go to him, needing to know if he was still alive.

When Rivers finally calmed, stepping in front of her with red-rimmed eyes, he had regained his composure, his expression cold and calm, his eyes dead.

‘It’s your fault.’

‘Go to hell.’

Amy glanced past him at Sullivan’s body, inwardly cursed herself, as another tear rolled down her cheek. The tears weren’t for Rivers. He could do what he wanted; she no longer cared.

‘I’m gonna cut you up into little pieces.’

‘Do what the hell you want.’ She spat the words in his face. ‘I don’t care.’

He pressed the knife into her cheek, nicked it, drawing blood, and she flinched. ‘I’m going to make you care.’

A shot rang out, making her jump.

Rivers looked at her, the impassive look on his face changing to one of surprise. Blood ran between his lips and he blinked heavily, taking an unsteady step back before dropping forward. As he crashed to the floor, Amy saw blood seeping from his back, and then she saw Boaz, on his knees, one hand clutched at his belly and his gun still aimed.

‘Vic. You’re okay?’