Page 109 of Locked In Ice

Lane pulled Ophelia with him, and he tucked her behind his body.She damn well was not being some human shield for him.

“Shit.”Shay kicked the scalpel across the room and crouched beside Benedict.“It’s going to be okay.”

“Don’t do that,” Lane advised her.“Don’t get closer—”

Her head wrenched toward them.“I’m trying to save a good man!”

“He’s not good,” Ophelia rasped.“He locked me in cold…body storage.”

“What?”Shay’s eyes widened.

Benedict grabbed for the gun in her hand.He yanked it toward him.

Should have gone for the jugular.

A bullet blasted, and Lane whirled instinctively.He wrapped his body around Ophelia.

“Don’t…do this!”Ophelia punched at him.A half-strength punch because something was still wrong with his Ophelia.

Another bullet thundered.

The bullets hadn’t hit him or her, but he’d heard a weird, metallic bang when the second one lodged in one of the body storage cabinets.Lane looked back over his shoulder.

Benedict and Shay were still struggling over the gun.

“You’renot…good,” Benedict gasped at the detective.“You…let them go…over and over…”

Hell, seemed like he wanted to kill the cop, too.

Benedict heaved back with the gun gripped in his hands.

Time to go for the jugular.Lane dove for the scalpel that Shay had kicked aside.

“Benedict, don’t!”Shay pleaded.She scuttled back.“I’m your friend!I’m a cop!”

Lane didn’t think it mattered.To Benedict, all that mattered was the guilt he thought Shay carried.

Benedict had full possession of her weapon.Blood soaked him.He was totally focused on Shay right then as he huddled on the floor with the detective’s gun.

Mistake, asshole.

Lane grabbed the scalpel.He leapt toward Benedict.

But, still on the floor, body heaving, Benedict turned toward him.Still grinning with the wild smile on his face.Scalpel versus gun was the worst choice ever, but Lane was out of options and time.

He was—

Ophelia slammed the surgical instrument tray into the side of Benedict’s head.It hit with a clang.Then she hit him again.A third time.

On the fourth hit, Ophelia’s legs gave way, and she sprawled on the floor.But she’d done the job.

The gun fell from Benedict’s fingers as blood streamed from his head.Then he fell back, too.

Shay leapt to grab the gun that had just dropped from Benedict’s fingers.

And Lane—Lane brought the scalpel down over the bastard’s throat.

“Lane?”Ophelia’s voice.Soft.

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