Something dark flickers in his expression. He glances down at the gun still aimed at me, moved farther out in the open now. “If I had come prepared that night like I am today, we would already be together, Eve. But the key was a bad copy. It stuck in the lock, made too much noise. I knew you’d hear. I worried that you would call the police.”
That’s exactly what I should have done. Instead, I dismissed the noise, too afraid to rouse my brother’s overbearingly protective instincts, should he learn I’d panicked and called for help. I was stubborn and defensive of his concern—and now I’m paying the steepest price.
Hennings steps closer to me, forcing me to either step back or let him come nearer. I know the edge of the platform is somewhere behind me. I can only hope my choices don’t boil down to facing off against a bullet or the third rail of the subway tracks.
Absurdly, I pray if I die here today, that Gabe won’t hear about this and blame himself.
I balked at his protection too. Now, I would give anything to be safe in his arms.
“My luck took a turn a few minutes later,” Henningssays. “I considered it fate when the device in your utility room shorted out completely and the power cut off. I waited outside the back door for a while, hoping the darkness would drive you out to me. But then a vehicle approached, and I had no choice but to run back to my car a few streets away.”
Thank God, Gabe had come that night. He is all that saved me from Hennings’ sick plans.
I swallow a cold knot of horror to hear him breezily recount everything. And he hadn’t stopped with just those acts, either. “You followed me to the zoo. You slashed my tires.”
“Yes, I did,” he says, ice moving into his eyes. “You disappointed me, Eve. I never took you for a slut, not until you started spending time with that other man. That cripple.”
I flinch at the awful word, and the venom with which he speaks it. What’s also disturbing is that he talks about Gabe as if he is rival for my affection.
He straightens, eyeing me with a new resolve under the glare of the station lights. “I’m glad to see the message I delivered today served its purpose. I wanted the interloper to see the real you, Eve. Not the mask you’ve been wearing for him. I knew if he saw who you truly are, he wouldn’t stay. And, yes, I wanted to punish you, too.”
As he speaks, a pair of rushing footsteps sound on the stairs leading down to the platform. I recognize the gait. I swivel my head at the same time Gabe comes into view.
“Gabe, stop!”
He hesitates, his face the grimmest I’ve ever seen it. “Evelyn. Ah, Christ.”
In that same instant, Hennings snags me with his free hand, yanking me against him. The nose of the pistol jams coldly into my temple.
35
~ Gabriel ~
It is as if my entire body freezes in the space of a moment.
Like the instant between the first firecracker pop of a triggered IED and the explosion that will send twisted metal and body parts flying in all directions, I stand in a brief state of stunned incredulity as my mind tries to process the sight of Evelyn caught at the end of a madman’s gun.
My heart halts, giving my brain a chance to formulate a plan.
Without a weapon of my own, I don’t have a lot of choice.
“Let her go.”
I take a step down the stairs, moving by degrees while looking for ways to disarm her assailant. The man is shorter than her and sturdy. He is notyoung, in his sixties by my guess. Dressed well, he’s obviously a man of some means in his tailored suit and polished shoes.
But he is crazy. I can see the wildness of insanity in his eyes.
“Put the gun down. You don’t want to do this.”
He sneers at me. “She’s mine. Tell him, Eve.”
A strangled cry leaks from her. Her eyes are rounded, her breath panting shallowly through her trembling lips. “Mr. Hennings . . . Walter, please don’t do this.”
I flick a glance at Evelyn, a silent acknowledgment of her courage in giving me the bastard’s name. Not that I’m going to need it. By the time I get her out of here, Walter Hennings will be dead—or wishing like hell he was.
“Stay back,” he growls at me. “I’m going to take Eve out of here now.”
There is a stairwell on both ends of the station; the one I’m standing at the bottom of, and another one about a hundred feet in the opposite direction. I hear other people’s voices and footsteps approaching. Any second now, the station is going to begin filling with commuters.
