Chapter Twenty-Six

At Jo Jo’s second bloodcurdling scream, Ryker pushed himself up to a sitting position to get better leverage on the cord and pulled until he thought he’d pass out. Seconds later, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was free.

Hands trembling from the pain and efforts to escape, he made a mad dash for the gun on his hip. And then remembered Keith had it.

Damn it.

Scanning for another weapon, he tore through the living room on his way toward the bedroom. As he passed the roll top desk in the corner by the kitchen, an odd shaped box caught his attention. A gun case? Could he get that lucky?

His leg pounded from the overexertion, his shoulder in serious need of adjustment. Rolling his arm forward, he ground his teeth against the pain and heard a pop. Pain radiated down to his toes. Breathe in. Breathe out. It’ll pass.

Seconds later the pain subsided, and he turned his attention to the metal box. He picked it up. Shit. Locked. With a digital combination lock.

Taking a deep breath, he fumbled with the front of the box, spinning the numbered dial. He only had seconds. Figure out the combo and then move. On a whim, he punched in Jo Jo’s birthday. A date he’d remembered for some reason despite all the years that passed.

Well, son of a bitch. The lip popped open, exposing a 9mm Berretta. Wicked anxiety washed over him.

Yanking the gun from the case, he checked to make sure it was loaded. Then he headed down the hallway for some serious payback. What the hell was this Sam chick doing with a gun? He shook his head, making a silent promise to kiss her. And then make damn sure she knew how to use the weapon before giving it back.

Gun aimed and ready, he maneuvered his sore body down the two steps and prepared for what he’d find. Keith’s strained voice filtered through the door.

“Crawl to me.”

What the hell?

Reaching for the doorknob, he slowly twisted it, listening to the sounds on the opposite side.

“That’s better. Let’s do it the easy way.”

Ryker shoved the door open. Keith sat on the edge of the bed, his gun trained on Jo Jo as she crouched on the floor mere inches from him.

“Well, hello, lover boy. Come on in, join us.” Keith glared him down, pure hatred spiking the taut air. “Time for you to choose, Joanna. Me or him?” he asked, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her off the floor as he stood. He held her tight in front of him, the gun poking into her ribcage and killing any chance Ryker might get off a clean shot.

“Put the gun down, Keith. It’s over. You have nowhere to go.”

Keith walked backward toward the French doors behind them. He unlatched the lock, keeping Jo Jo’s body between him and Ryker. He then used his weight to shove them open, dragging her out with him as she fought to get free.

“Stop, Keith. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Shut up and be still, Joanna.” He looked over his shoulder, adjusting his direction.

All Ryker could do was follow. Pray he found a way to distract him, get the upper hand. But it didn’t look promising. Keith was moving toward the edge of the deck Sam was having built. Toward the twenty-foot drop off.

Shit!

Joanna’s heart raced. Keith meant to kill them both. That was evident the minute he crossed through the yellow caution tape strung across the opening where the boards had yet to be laid.

“What kind of man uses a woman as a shield?” Ryker followed, his gun aimed and ready.

“What do you see in him, Joanna?” Keith stopped mere feet away from the uneven ledge. So close he sent tiny pebbles cascading down over the side.

She drew in a deep breath, her gaze locked on the short distance between them and the abyss, her irregular breaths increasing as the magnitude of the situation took hold.

His warped features pained, Keith took a few more steps back. “I never meant to hurt you, Joanna. I only wanted to love you.” With her next jerk, he wrenched her hard, and she yelped. Keith raised his weapon to Ryker. “Wrong choice, Joanna. But I forgive you.”

She fought to find a way out, a way to defuse the situation. “You say you love me. But how can you love someone and hurt them like this?”

Keith’s composure wavered. His deformed features softened and he stilled, thinking. Blinking. As if trying to make a decision.

He then leaned down and kissed her cheek, the feel and thick, putrid smell of his burned skin so strong she could almost taste it, stirring up another bout of nausea. “My dad said he loved my mom. Look what he did. Had an affair with the first slut that crossed his path.”

She ignored the vulgar quip about her mother. “He made a mistake. We all make mistakes. Truly loving someone means having the courage to admit you’re wrong.”

Keith’s fingers twitched on the gun.

“Don’t you see? You can’t make someone love you. It doesn’t work that way.” Her entire body shook as she spoke, her scattered emotions getting the best of her.

Keith shifted his weight, the painful ordeal and her constant struggling obviously getting to him. Several bigger rocks broke free behind them and crashed against the narrow bank then splashed into the water.

Eyeing the work area, the numerous holes dug for the corner posts to support the decking and the cleared brush beyond, she realized the weakened ground wasn’t going to hold their weight much longer.

Ryker worked his way around the decking, getting closer to them. “If you love her, put the damn gun down. Get away from the cliff. Let her go.”

“I never meant to hurt you. Honest. Or your father.” Keith’s voice wavered.

Death danced dangerously within Keith’s wicked soul.

Ryker yelled, “Jo Jo, don’t move!”

The eerie sound of cracking and shifting earth froze them all to the spot.

Her right foot slipped on the now rutted ground. Keith caught her just before the earth fell out beneath her, pulling her up beside him.

More cracking, a visible line forming on the ground mere inches in front of where Keith and Joanna stood. She needed to make a decision.

“Damn it! The whole thing’s gonna go. Get her out of there!” Ryker took a step forward, reaching out his hand.

But it was too late. The ground shook, a loud sound echoing through the trees and cool air—a warning of the violence to come.

“I’m sorry, Joanna,” Keith said, the gun dropping to the unstable dirt.

Joanna didn’t hesitate. Both hands on his upper torso, she shoved hard, the momentum sending Keith backward over the ledge and helping push her in the opposite direction toward Ryker’s outstretched hand. Seconds later the entire ledge gave way.

“Ryker!” Her high-pitched scream mingled with the crashing of rock and debris as it pummeled to the huge jagged sandstone rocks and lake below. “Oh, God, no!” She’d almost made it, but only managed to hit the stable part of the ground at waist level.

“Grab my hand!” The panic in Ryker’s tone said it all.

She was going to die.