“Let me go!” Evelyn was raving, going completely all-out crazy. He could hear her desperation in the reedy thinness of her voice.

But he didn’t feel any pity. Not after what she’d done to him. He’d been so worried that she’d go into labor, so afraid that the baby would die, and she’d used his fear against him.

The bitch was smart. He’d been careful, thought of everything, and yet he’d fallen right into her trap.

He should’ve told her to shut up. She had him so angry he could kill her. But he didn’t have the voice to yell—or the air. His breathing was so ragged he was getting dizzy.

Using the walls for support, he tried to make his way to the empty store in front, but his legs didn’t want to work, didn’t want to bear his weight. And as he moved, the dizziness grew much worse—until he was afraid he’d black out.

“What … the hell’s … happening?” he gasped.

Barely clinging to consciousness, he tried to take another step. Lyman Bishop was on his way. All Emmett had to do was hold on until he got paid. Then he could blow this joint, be done with the whole sordid mess. Let Lyman Bishop do what he would with the pregnant bitch. She was as vicious as the psychopaths she studied.

Holding one hand to his throat in an attempt to staunch the bleeding, he managed to turn around long enough to double-check that he’d locked the cooler.

Yes, he had. Thank goodness. He could see the closed lock hanging there. He didn’t want to worry about Evelyn Talbot escaping while he was in such a mess.

That she wasn’t going anywhere should’ve brought him some relief, except he was feeling so shitty he wasn’t sure anything would help.

Concentrate! He had to focus if he was ever going to reach the van. And he would reach it. He’d get paid despite what had almost happened. His sister needed Terry’s half of the money in order to move out on her own. That was part of the reason Emmett had decided to see this through. Terry didn’t know she was planning to leave him, of course, but that was what she’d told Emmett in her last text. So what else could he do? She was miserable, and his loyalties would always remain with her. Blood was thicker than water, as they say—and that included cellmates.

He bumped into the walls on either side of him until the short hallway ended and he reached the salesroom. He was tempted to sit down until the room quit spinning and he could catch his breath, but he had a feeling he should keep moving, get to a doctor while he could still drive.

He stepped over the discarded egg crates and other debris he’d been navigating all week to reach the front door.

The wind hit his face as he wrenched it open. He could see a hint of the blue van, sitting in the carport beneath overgrown vines where it was hidden from the road.