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This really was Meghan. And Nicky wasn't too late.
But something was wrong.
Meghan looked like she was in an awful lot of pain. Her face was covered in bruises, and her eyes sunken. She looked like hell. Nicky gritted her teeth. But before Nicky could make a clear shot at him, he spun Meghan in front of him, still holding her throat with his hand.
"You wouldn't shoot my bride," the man said. "If you do that, you'll kill her."
Meghan made a gurgling noise as he clamped harder on her throat.
"That's enough," Nicky screamed. "I'll shoot you!"
But he was using Meghan as a human shield. That damn coward.
"If you kill me," he said, "you'll kill her too. That isn’t what you want, is it?”
Nicky kept her gun aimed at him, but she couldn't pull the trigger. She was frozen, too afraid of what would happen if she shot--and missed. It was too risky. She had to buy time for Ken to get in here with backup. She had to keep this guy talking.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
"Because..." He sniggered, making Nicky's skin crawl. "Because I needed a bride. You know, you aren't so bad yourself... why don't you step into the light?"
Nicky's eyes squinted as she looked at him. "I'm not a bride," she said. "What are you talking about?" This man was a lunatic.
"I know you," he said, his eyes wandering over her body in a pervy way. "You look perfect..."
Sufficiently creeped out, Nicky prayed Ken would show up soon.
"Let her go or I'll put you down," Nicky said.
"You won't," he taunted. "If you do, I'll snap her neck."
Damn it. He had her pinned. Nicky had dealt with many intense situations in her life—but none had been as disturbing and nerve-wracking as anything she’d seen on this case. She just wanted it all to be over. She wanted everyone to walk away with their lives.
"Who are you?" she said, "and why do you want her?"
"I'll tell you," he said. "My name is Roy. You know, the way I see it, I'll get you to love me. And I'll get you to stay by my side. You'll have your family. And I'll have my bride. And we'll have a happy, simple life together."
So, this was his schtick. Based on the dress, he was obsessed with marriage. It looked like every time a bride "let him down," he put her down, replacing her with a new one. Nicky's stomach rolled. But something in his speech stood out of her. He didn't speak of vile acts--he spoke of a happy life.
"Is that what you want, Roy?" she asked. "To be a good husband, to have a nice family?"
"Yes," he said. "And if you shoot me, I'll snap your bride's neck too."
Nicky looked at the wedding dress, back at Roy's face.
This guy was deranged. He must have been seriously messed up to search for a bride in the first place, to think he could find someone who would fit his stereotype of what a bride was supposed to look like.
"You wouldn't hurt your bride," Nicky said. She needed to get in his head. "No. You'll do anything to keep her alive, just like a real groom would."
"You're right," he said.
"She's a good woman," Nicky said. "She doesn't deserve this. You need help. You need someone who can help you."
"She's a cold little bitch," the man said. "She messed up our vows. Something as important as our vows, and she messed it all up!"
"If you let her go," Nicky said, "I can do something for you."
"I don't need help," he said. "I'm better off without her. She's always wanting more and more. She wants everything--"
