The cop spotted the weapon and pulled his. “Gun! Put the gun down!” He waved the paramedics back while he ducked out of sight against the siding. “Put the weapon down! Put it down!”

A chorus of the same words from other out-of-sight officers echoed around her. How many were there? A lot, please be a lot.

Gavin hovered in the doorway, watching, his hand gripping his weapon at his side.

“Stop! Stay there!” The man shook, his fear strong. “Nobody come any closer!”

Her eyes caught Gavin’s once more. He needed to stay with the wounded woman inside and keep pressure on her wound and he knew it but was torn.

“Go,” she mouthed. “Go.”

He frowned, looked over his shoulder, then back to her.

“Gotta get out of here,” the man behind her muttered. “Gotta get out of here.”

“Calm down,” she whispered.

“What? What’d you say?”

“Please. Calm down.” If he jerked or twitched or fell, she was dead. Don’t think about that. Just breathe. “I’ll help you.” Sarah continued to focus on breathing while dark spots danced in front of her eyes. Her captor kept her between himself and the officers he could see. “What’s . . . ,” Sarah wheezed, “. . . your name?”

“Shut up. Oh man, this is crazy. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Please, tell me your name.”

“Sam! My name’s Sam, now shut it. I need to think. Why can’t I think?”

His panicked breaths echoed in her ear and his grip slipped a fraction. Just enough to let her drag in a lungful of much-needed air before his hold tightened again.

Escape scenarios zipped through her mind. Unfortunately, all of them ended with her dead.

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

As soon as Gavin saw the officers had their weapons trained on the man called Sam, he put his own weapon away. He didn’t need them worried about him and his gun too.

Sarah had told him to go to the woman, make sure she was okay, but he couldn’t leave. A glance back told him the wounded woman was still breathing. Barely.

Right now, he was just inside the door, trying to avoid being a target should someone decide to start shooting, but close enough to keep Sarah in his sight. However . . .

He raced to the front door and threw it open. At least the paramedics could come in and take care of the woman. He knelt next to her to check her pulse. Slow and thready. Faint. And the blood flow had slowed. He bolted back to the door onto the deck—and Sarah—and stepped outside onto the wood.

“You!”

Gavin turned. Two officers had entered the doorway Gavin had broken through. Both cops held their weapons steady and trained on Gavin.

“I’m one of the good guys. My ID is in my back pocket.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”