Page 66 of Hidden Shadows
These desks wouldn’t do shit to protect them. A bullet would go straight fucking through the wood. He had to get Finley out of here,now.
He pulled his gun from the holster, then shifted his body to the side, making sure he positioned himself between her and the shooter. “You need to run, Finley!”
It was like she didn’t hear him. Her attention was focused on something across the room. He followed her gaze, cursing at the sight of the dead uniformed officers.
He grabbed her shoulder firmly. “Finley! Look at me.” When she finally did, her eyes were unfocused. “I’m giving you the keys. I want you to run to the car, lock yourself inside, and get away.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “No. I’m not leaving you.”
“Youare. Because I’m gonna end this asshole.”
“Nixon—”
He pushed the car keys into her hand. “Go!”
She gave him one last look before rising to her hands and knees and crawling back to the stairs. The second she started moving, he rose slightly and started firing at the back corner of the room.
Nixon rushed to the next desk. He kept firing as he moved, creeping from desk to desk to close the space between them.
He wasn’t letting this guy go. He’d follow her back to the States. Torment her further. And she’d forever be looking over her shoulder.
Hell no. That wasn’t happening. This was ending today.
When the return fire came, Nixon took cover, dropping flat to his stomach behind a desk.
He took a moment to breathe. To let the rage flow through his blood like fast-moving acid.
He shuffled to the other side of the table, then rose and fired, aiming at the hand. A loud curse sounded, but the gun didn’t drop.
He’d only nicked him.
Nixon rushed to the next desk. He was so fucking close now. He waited for that arm to pop out again, and the second it did, he fired—this time getting a clean shot of the forearm.
The guy howled, the gun dropping to the floor. Nixon raced forward and lunged, grabbing him around the middle and sending him crashing to the floor.
He wore a balaclava over his head, and Nixon shoved a gun to his temple.
Immediately, the guy lifted his hands. “Don’t shoot! Please!”
Nixon’s brows tugged together. That voice…it was familiar. And his eyes…
He grabbed the balaclava and pulled it over his head.
The fury inside Nixon grew, threatening to erupt.
“Rad?” Nixon growled. “It was you? All this fucking time, it was you!”
Rad shook his head vigorously. “No! No, please! I was here with police! We were waiting for you and this guy came up here and shot the cops!”
“What are you talking about?”
“He killed them and told me he had Beth. That if I didn’t kill you when you got here, he’d kill herandme!”
“Why the fuck would I believe that? You could have waited for us to get here and asked for our help. You could have called police. Hell, there are a million things you could have done other than shooting at me.”
The man started to shake, tears running down his face in a fast stream. “It’s true. I swear, it’s true. I just did what he said because I didn’t want to die.”
Ice started to filter into Nixon’s limbs…at the way this man was breaking down below him. It wasn’t fake. Rad was a decoy…the stalker had known that Nixon would stay to end him. That he’d send Finley away to safety…
