Page 75 of Not This Night

Rachel lay motionless on the car roof, the metal having warmed beneath her. She held her breath, the scope a narrow window into the unfolding terror. Her finger hovered over the trigger, the rifle an extension of her will.

"Ranger Blackwood," she said, her tone stripped of warmth, every syllable a leaden weight. "I'm right here. I know what they did to Lucy. I know they sterilized her.”

Miguel was staring at the radio now, but with a sudden violent twist, he looked and his eyes found her across the parking lot.

She didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But she could feel his eyes on her, those cold, mad eyes.

Suddenly he was shouting again, his voice bouncing off the walls of the clinic, a ricocheting bullet of rage and despair. "She was innocent! She was just a girl!" His strangled cry pierced the quiet, sobbing followed, echoing from the radio in Rachel's hand.

Rachel froze, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. This was it. She could see him clearly now. His face contorted in rage. His body rigid with aggression. She swallowed hard, gripping her rifle tighter.

He kept the trembling hostage in front of him, his gun pressed against her head.

His face was gaunt, sweat slipping down the scar on his chin. His bristly, dark black hair jutted erratically, only adding to the appearance of madness.

Miguel’s scream echoed through her earpiece, a guttural roar that sent chills racing down her spine. She saw him yank the woman closer, her terror-stricken face covered in tears. He pressed the gun harder against her temple as if to punctuate his threat. The woman's muffled cries rose in pitch and intensity.

“She was scared, wasn’t she?” Rachel said. “For you. You were older than her. She was underage.”

“It wasn’t like that! We were in love. None of that mattered. We were both teenagers.”

“But she was trying to protect you, Miguel, don’t you see?” Rachel insisted, trying to keep her voice level, calm. “You’re throwing it away.”

“She slit her throat,” he whimpered. “She did it. I didn’t even know. He… that bastard came to our house. To blackmail us! To blackmail her! I could see her break. I didn’t know!” he screamed. “I didn’t know what had happened to her. Didn’t know. I thought we were trying to have kids. She didn’t tell me! He broke her! He did! They all did!”

“And your friends?” Rachel said, trying to keep him talking. Backup had to arrive soon. “They helped hide it?”

“They lied to me. For years. They lied. They signed off on it. They ruined her. Broke her. Killed her! I didn’t know,” he whimpered. “I… I didn’t know.”

She heard the crack in his voice, a perceptible sign of his crumbling resolve. Her eyes scanned the scene, the potential variables. The hostages were motionless, frozen by fear. But Miguel was stalled, his rage momentarily replaced by the gnawing pain of betrayal.

He had loved Lucy, and she had loved him. And now he was here, driven to the brink by his own guilt and despair.

Rachel felt the weight of her duty pressing against her chest. As a Texas Ranger, she was sworn to uphold justice—to protect innocent lives at any cost. And right now, that cost seemed all too steep.

Rachel let out a slow breath, trying to steady her nerves. Her gaze remained resolute on Miguel, her finger twitching against the cold metal of the rifle's trigger.

“Miguel,” she said softly into her earpiece. “I understand your pain. What happened to Lucy... It’s not fair. It’s not right. But this? Hurting these people won’t bring Lucy back.”

His lip twitched slightly as he snarled at the radio, a low growl rumbling from his chest.

“No! You don't understand!” he roared back at her through gritted teeth. His hold tightened on the hostage, sending another wave of terror through the other prisoners. “You can't understand what they did!"

Rachel kept her voice steady despite the rising tension knotting her stomach.

"I don't claim to," she said truthfully. "But these aren’t the doctors who hurt her. They’re not the ones who did it.”

“They’re all the same!”

"Your friends were just trying to help a scared young girl."

“It doesn’t matter.”

Rachel felt herself willing Miguel to lower the gun. She didn’t want to.

“Don’t make me,” she whispered.

He let out a faint sniff. “Lucy… I’m coming…”

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