Bree was slipping out of her T-shirt and sticking her head under the running water while we stared helplessly at each other.

“Be right there!” she called back.

I turned to face Kyle again. He was still holding on to Ali.

Jannie was sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, but now she was watching me intently. I think she had started to sense that something was wrong.

“She’ll be right out,” I said, as naturally as I could.

“Good,” Kyle said. “Then I’m going to take you all for a drive. Kids, you up for a little adventure?”

“Sure!” Ali said. Jannie stayed quiet. The whole time, Kyle kept his right hand covered with that towel, his gun out of sight.

When Bree came into the room, she was in bare feet and wearing one of the resort’s robes. You’d never know from watching her that she was just as scared and pumped up as I was.

“Max, good to see you,” she said, and extended a hand as she came toward him.

“Not as good as it is to see you,” he said, without hiding his pleasure anymore.

But then as they went to shake, Bree’s free hand whipped a small canister out of the pocket in her robe — the hair spray from the complimentary kit in the bathroom. She sprayed it in Kyle’s eyes. He yelled in pain, and with a second fluid motion, Bree kneed him in the groin.

At the same time, I took a glass decanter off the bar, where I’d positioned myself. I crossed the floor in three fast steps and swung as hard as I could. The heavy container smashed into Kyle’s jaw and nose. He crumpled to the floor. Shards of glass flew everywhere.

Ali screamed, but there was no time for explanation or soothing. Bree scooped him up as if he were weightless, grabbed Jannie’s arm, and got them out the door.

And I fell onto Kyle with everything I had.

Chapter 114

KYLE SWUNG HIS fist and caught me square in the jaw. A shock ran through my head, but I couldn’t swing back. I now had one hand on his wrist and the other on the gun he’d carried in.

I head-butted him instead, hard, where he’d already been cut. It was enough to wrench the weapon free. A Beretta nine millimeter. Max Siegel’s gun.

I scrambled backward on the floor, aiming it between his eyes, which he was rubbing at furiously, trying to see.

“Roll over!” I told him, getting to my feet. “Face down on the floor, hands away from your body!”

Kyle smiled. His eyes were practically bloodred, running with tears, but I knew that he could see me again.

“This is ironic,” he said. “I could have sworn you were lying that night in the car, but you really can’t pull that trigger, can you?”