I hit the corner…and found no corner to turn. What I’d thought was the junction of another alley was a doorway—with a recess so shallow I couldn’t even duck in and hide. As I slowed, my gaze swung forward again, looking for a second option. Ahead, less than a dozen feet away, a real alley intersection, one I could see from this angle wasn’t another dead end. But Wilkes was too close. He’d never let me get that far. My only option was to break into a run and escape.

Run and he’d know he’d been made. And, like any good hitman, he would back off.

Run and I’d lose him.

I stared at that intersection and knew I should do it. Escape and try again later. But everything in me rebelled at the very thought.

Run like a coward? Like a helpless thirteen-year-old girl? Run and let him kill someone else, sacrifice another life for mine? Never again.

I saw my chances, knew they were far from perfect, maybe even far from good, and I made the only choice I could.

I slowed down.

Gravel crunched behind me. Right behind me. I spun and saw Wilkes closer than I’d expected. Saw the wire raised above my head. My gaze met his and, for a split second, I saw his surprise and dismay.

He twisted behind me again, and the wire swung down. For one second, as the metal flashed, something inside me went wild with fear, seeing not a wire, but a knife. Then my hand tightened around the Glock and the feel of it jolted me back. I started to raise the gun, but my brain screamed “too late,” and I let it drop inside my pocket. Both my hands shot up, palms up, just in time to block my throat as the wire came down.

The wire sliced into my palms and I let out a soft gasp. Instinctively I pushed it away, but it only bit in harder. For a second, we just stood locked in indecision, our hands occupied, unable to let go. My first urge was to kick backward. But I stopped myself before my foot left the ground. Kick and I’d lose my balance. Lose my balance, and I risked letting go of this wire, and the second I did that, it was through my windpipe and into my carotid artery.

I unclenched my right, releasing a stream of blood down the inside of my wrist. With the slick blood, my hand slid free. Then the wire jerked up. If I wasn’t going to lose my balance, he’d do it for me. I swung my hand forward, then drove my elbow into his gut.