Page 135 of Torin

My father draws his gun. “Don’t make me shoot you.”

He fires. The shot hits Torin high in the shoulder.

He jerks with the impact.

And keeps coming.

My father stares at him. Then he grabs me and pulls me in front of him.

I stumble against his chest, and the barrel of the gun presses into my shoulder.

“Hayes.” Dr Whitmore looks aghast. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Stay out of it.”

“Put the gun down.”

My father’s breathing is ragged now. He looks past me at Torin, and his voice changes. “Take her. You wanted her, didn’t you?” he shouts. “Take her!”

My stomach turns.

“Just get her out of here. Keep her quiet. I don’t care how.”

Dr Whitmore goes completely still. My father has forgotten he’s even there.

Dr Whitmore steps towards me.

“Hayes, let Hannah go.”

“Stay back.”

“She’s terrified.”

“I said stay back!”

Dr Whitmore reaches for my arm.

My father jerks me away from him.

The gun goes off.

The shot cracks through the clearing. Dr Whitmore cries out and staggers backwards, one hand flying to his shoulder. Blood appears between his fingers.

Torin charges.

My father shoves me aside and swings the gun towards him.

He doesn’t get the chance to fire again.

Torin hits him with enough force to lift him off his feet. They crash onto the gravel, the gun flying from his hand and skidding beneath the Volvo.

My father tries to scramble away. Torin slams one enormous paw onto his chest and pins him flat.

“Jesus Christ,” Dr Whitmore gasps.

Torin stands over my father, teeth bared, a growl rolling from deep inside his chest.

For the first time, I see terror on my father’s face.