The girl stared at him. “Who are you, Richard?” she said. “Andrew. Whatever. What the hell is your deal?”
Lind didn’t answer. Her questions made his head hurt. Made the black panic grow colder. The blood pounded in his ears, and he looked away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He could feel her eyes on him. “There’s something wrong with you,” she said. “I can’t be here.”
Lind heard her footsteps and didn’t move to stop her. He knew he should let her leave. The man would want it that way. Pretty soon she’d be gone and everything would be fine.
Except it wouldn’t. The visions would come back. The man would give him more assignments. Somewhere, deep down, he knew he needed her to stay. “Stop,” he said, standing, unsteady. “Please.”
Caity looked back at him from the edge of the living room. “You scare me,” she said. “I’m sorry, Richard. I have to go.”
“Please,” he said. “Don’t.”
She studied his face, her brow furrowed. “You have some issues, man,” she said. “Seriously. I mean—”
There was a knock at the door. One single knock, loud. Caity froze. “You expecting somebody?”
“No,” Lind said. “Never.”
There was another loud knock. Then the door splintered open with a sound like a gunshot. Sagged off its hinges and fell inward. Caity screamed.
There was a man on the other side of the door. Tall and long-haired and lanky. He stared in at Caity and Lind, his eyes cold and emotionless.
Caity screamed again. The man came for her, quickly. Grabbed her by the throat and threw her against the wall. She made a sound like a deflating basketball. Slumped, her eyes lidded. The man came for Lind.
Lind didn’t think. He was trained for this. The attacker came at him, reached for him. Lind swatted him away. Backed up and regrouped. Threw a punch that caught the bigger man in the stomach. The man didn’t flinch. He kept coming.
Lind swung again. The man blocked him. Countered with a punch of his own. Lind saw it coming, tried to duck away. The punch caught his left shoulder and sent him reeling across the room. His shoulder tingled, went dead. The attacker kept coming.
Lind fought with his right hand. Tried to dodge the man’s punches. The man was quick for his size. His punches packed power. Lind caught him once in the jaw. Froze him, momentarily. Then the man countered, an uppercut that knocked Lind off his feet.
The man loomed above him. Lind sat up, breathing heavily, searching for a way out. Across the room, Caity Sherman moaned. Struggled to stand up and collapsed in a heap. The attacker looked at Lind with the hint of a grin. He hadn’t said anything. He’d just come in and destroyed.
He’s going to kill you. He’ll kill you and Caity unless you do something, fast.
There was a gun in the kitchen. The man had given Lind two pistols, SIG Sauer P220s, told him to hide one under the sink and the other in the car. Use only in emergencies. This was an emergency.
The attacker followed Lind’s gaze. Grinned at him, a soulless, evil grin. “Go ahead,” he said. “Get the gun.”
Lind stared at him, his mind struggling to process. The attacker knew about the gun. He leered down at Lind, breathing hard. Leaned down with both hands open and reached for Lind’s throat.
Lind rolled away from him. “Caity.” Caity Sherman looked up at him, slow. Her eyes were dazed, unfocused. “There’s a gun under the sink,” he said. “Get it.”
The attacker laughed in Lind’s face. Crossed the living room toward the kitchen. Lind pushed himself to his feet. Had to move. Bolted across the living room just as the attacker opened the cupboard door and came out with the pistol.
“I was going to kill you slow,” he said. “You had to ruin it.”
Lind flung open a cupboard drawer. Came out with a carving knife. Flung himself at the man as the man turned around, plunged the knife deep into his shoulder. The man screamed. Dropped the gun. Swung at Lind with his free hand and caught him flat in the face, knocking him back across the kitchen floor.
Lind picked himself up. Watched the attacker pull the bloody knife from his shoulder. The gun was five or six feet away. The attacker was still closer. Lind looked at Caity, and then he looked at the door.
Time to go.
He ran to Caity. The attacker dove for the gun. Fumbled with it, his hands slick with fresh blood. Lind pulled Caity to her feet and hurried her out the doorway. “Come on.”
Lind pulled Caity down the hall to the fire escape door and shoved her through. There was a noise behind him, and Lind turned back and saw the attacker in his open doorway, leaning against the ruined frame, clutching his shoulder. In his other hand, he held the gun.
Lind locked eyes with the attacker once more. Felt a chill run through his body. Then the man raised the gun. Lind spun through the doorway, hit the stairs. Heard the door slam shut above him just as the gun went off.