The gunman looked toward the window, then back at Jake.
“What . . . are you doing?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re putting thoughts in my head.”
“How could I do that?”
“I don’t know.” He raised the gun. “Stop it. Stop it right now or you’re going to be missing a kneecap.”
Fear leaped inside Rachel, and she lost her focus.
The guy’s expression changed. Suddenly he looked more confident. Addressing her, he said, “Finish what you’re doing.”
“I will,” she whispered through gritted teeth as her resolve strengthened. Jake was right. They could do this–because they had to.
Grimly, she poured her will into the picture that Jake had conjured up.
The guy looked from them to the window again. Then he steadied the gun on Jake.
“It’s you. You’re doing this.”
In that terrible moment, Rachel knew he was going to pull the trigger.
CHAPTER SIX
Desperate to get Jake out of the line of fire, Rachel pushed the chair over.
He had caught her intention and rolled away as he hit the floor. She went down too, sprawling on the rug.
But the gun followed Jake.
Rachel struggled with every shred of resolve to make the man aim away.
The window image. The window,Jake shouted in her head.
She was torn, but she did what he asked.
In the next second, the man swung the gun toward the window and fired. She goggled at the unexpected response, but he was already running toward the shattered glass. He crashed against it, screaming as shards tore into his flesh.
Jake scrambled up, charging after the guy, but he was already through the window. They were on the third story, but he fell only half a story–to the roof at the back of the next building.
Rachel saw him hit the roof, then right himself. The gun was still in his hand. Cursing as he turned back toward them, he started to fire, but Jake had already pulled her away and pushed her to the floor.
A stream of bullets whizzed over their heads.
“Stay low.”
They crawled across the floor, toward the opposite side of the room.
“Grab your bag.”
Her bag. She’d forgotten that she’d packed some clothing only an hour before. That seemed like a thousand years ago. Getting out of here alive was the important point, but she snagged the bag as she passed.
The shooting had stopped.
“He could have gone around front,” Jake whispered as they reached the ground floor.
