Page 43 of View from Above

Metal scraped loud in his ears as Joy collected the revolver. Digging her hand into that signature blue blazer, she produced several rounds and shoved them into the chamber. With a flick of her wrist, she took aim. “I must’ve forgotten to load it after I put a round through Mallory. It’s a shame, really. From what I’ve read about you and your involvement in these past serial cases, I thought you’d hold out longer. Turns out, I was wrong.”

He’d let Joy overcompensate. He’d let her gain confidence. Because, in the end, that pride would force her to make a mistake. Just as he had. A single glimpse of the therapist he’d sworn he’d never let in his head released a dose of adrenaline he’d need to see this through. “You’re going to pay for that.”

Payton ducked one shoulder lower than the other and sprinted right at her. He struck her in the stomach and hauled her off the ground. The gun discharged a few inches from his right ear, but he wouldn’t stop. Not until Joy was in cuffs. He slammed her into the wall beside the rooftop door.

The gun fell from her grasp.

A hard exhale chased across the sweat and drying blood. Letting go, he let her drop. Fisting that damn blazer in both hands, he hauled his knee into her stomach and let go.

Joy collapsed, her head angling back into the wall. A high-pitched laugh tendrilled through the waterfall of hair falling in front of her face. “Is that the best you’ve got, Detective?” Her ear-piercing scream echoed off the surrounding buildings as she shoved to her feet.

He caught her right hook and twisted her around. Her face met the very wall she’d used for balance. “You have the right to remain silent—”

She pushed out from under him, ducking a split second before he could get another hand on her. Her fist collided with his already-sore ribs, and Payton rounded to protect himself from another strike. Precision training. Forensic knowledge. Killer instincts and an unpredictable motive. Joy swiped at the line of blood sliding down her chin. “I’ve been silent long enough, I think.”

The collision from the back of her hand twisted him to one side but wasn’t enough to knock him down. Payton grabbed for the killer again. She crushed both fists into the creases of his elbows and brought his face to her knee.

White lights exploded across his vision as the last of his adrenaline drained. Pain spread from his nose and across his cheeks. Blood gushed down the back of his throat and out his nose as he hit the ground.

A solid kick to his gut rolled him to one side and stole what little oxygen he’d been holding onto. “You just don’t know when to quit, do you? No matter. By the time I’m finished with her, you’ll wish you were dead.”

“Get the hell away from him.” Mallory penetrated his peripheral vision. Sunlight and trauma blacked out distinct features, but not enough to confuse the promised violence in her expression. Mallory shook out her injured arm, barely showing signs of pain. “This is between you and me, Joy. You want that inheritance? Come and get it.”

“Mallory, no.” Payton spit a mouthful of blood to the pavement but collapsed back to the ground.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this.” Joy moved in.

One punch. Two. Mallory struck a third time and snapped her sister’s head back on her shoulders. The killer fisted a chunk of Mallory’s hair and pulled hard, exposing her throat. Joy returned the assault as Payton rolled to his hands and knees. Mallory wasn’t law enforcement. She wasn’t trained to defend herself. She was going to get herself killed. For him. Joy swept Mallory’s legs out from under her and threw his partner to the pavement.

The woman he’d fallen for rolled but didn’t stay down. Blood cascaded down her face and neck as she rocketed her heel into Joy’s stomach. Grunts and a scream filled his ears as Mallory brought her sister in close. She aimed for Joy’s ribs, strike after strike as though she’d been possessed. As though she were paying her half-sister back for every hurt, every broken bone, every bullet. She buried her knee in Joy’s gut.

Blood exploded across the cement as Payton stumbled forward. Mallory was going to kill her. “Mallory, stop.”

Two more strikes to the bridge of Joy’s nose distorted the killer’s once beautiful face.

“Mallory, stop. I was wrong. You’re not that person. You’re not like him. Stop. You need to stop.” He stretched his hand out for her. Joy struggled to stand as the love of his life arched bloody knuckles back. Payton stepped between the two women and framed her face with both hands. “Mallory, stop!”

Awareness bled into those warm brown eyes that’d always regarded him with a sense of playfulness and curiosity. Mallory released her hold on her sister, and Joy collapsed at their feet. Unconscious. Coming back to herself, Mallory looked at him as though she’d just realized what she’d done. “Payton, I—”

“I know, but it’s over. Okay? She can’t hurt anyone else.” He slipped his hands down her neck, careful of the bullet wound in her shoulder, and she visibly tightened in front of him. The conversation that’d driven her from the precinct played across his mind, and Payton added another foot of distance between them. “We need to get the EMTs to look at that shoulder. I’ll have Wells escort you downstairs while we—”

“I can take myself. You should stay here with her.” She nodded to Joy still unconscious on the ground.

Right. Because he’d been the one to end things between them. He deserved every ounce of wariness and distance in her voice. “Mallory, I…” He didn’t know what to say, what to do next or how to fix this. He wasn’t good at relationships, but after all these years alone, isolated, and miserable, he knew exactly what he wanted. Her. “I’m sorry about what I said. All those hurtful things. I was angry you’d looked into my father’s disappearance, but what I was most angry about was that I wasn’t the one to solve the case. It was my pride that got the better of me. It’s destroyed every relationship I’ve been in up to this point in my life, but I don’t want it to be the reason I lose you. Because, as much as I’ve tried to deny it, I love you, damn it. And I will do whatever it takes to prove it.”

Her lacerated mouth parted on a strong exhale. Mallory clutched her shoulder, moving around him. “You should make a visit to the EMTs yourself, Detective. I think she may have hit you one too many times.”

Detective. His heart squeezed in his chest as she turned away from him. “Mallory, please—”

The bullet pierced through his jacket and straight into his chest.

Echoes of Mallory’s scream perforated his ears, and Payton watched the blood spread with every exaggerated beat of his heart. Dizziness set in as he tried to come to terms with Joy Leonard lowering the revolver. His lower back hit the retainer wall surrounding the rooftop, and he lost control of his limbs. The face he never wanted to forget bled into focus as time seemed to slow, and he reached to keep her with him. “Mallory.”

Payton fell.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“No!” Mallory rushed forward as Payton went over the roof.

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