The man released her and stepped back. Bruce motioned to the sofa for her to sit. She kept her hand clenched as she perched on the edge of the cushion. She placed her hands in her lap. Her fingers were still tightly clasped around the stone. He sat next to her. How many times had they spent in her flat doing that? She didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
“You have something in your hand, don’t ye?”
“What if I do?” she asked.
“I need ye to give that stone to me. That’s what ye have, isn’t it? A wee stone?” he said.
Her heart pounded harder. She tried to ignore the flat door that was wide open. It was her only escape route and the other man stood between it and her. The chilly night air spilled inside.
“It calls to us,” he said. “We can hear it.”
In her palm, the stone hummed a little louder.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Christ’s sake, Bruce, take the bloody thing from her, will ye?” the second man said, his tone laced with annoyed impatience.
“Don’t be like yer sister, lass,” Bruce said.
She straightened a little. “Where is Evie? What did you to do her?”
He chuckled. “I did nothing to her.”
“Then where is she?”
Now she was convinced Bruce had something to do with Evie’s disappearance. Had he taken her? Or, worse, killed her? Where was she?
“Give me the stone and I’ll tell ye where she is.”
A trade. She clutched her hand tighter around the stone. Did she dare trade the strange looking stone in her hand for Evie? He wasn’t giving her a choice. Likely, he knew she would do anything to get her sister back. She tipped her head down to look at her clenched fist.
“Och, this is taking too bloody long,” the other man snapped.
“Patience,” Bruce replied, his tone hard and unforgiving. Then to Chloe, he said, “I know ye want to know where she is. I can help ye find her.”
She wanted to believe him, but she didn’t.
There are those who would kill for it.
She had to think and quickly. She cut a glance at the other man who was edgy as he stood near the door. If she was fast enough, she could bolt around him and out the door. She still had on her sneakers. She could make a run for it. But then what? Where would she go?
She decided it was worth the risk. One step at a time. She’d jump to her feet, make a mad dash for the open door, and pray she’d make it.
“All right,” she said, as though she were agreeing to hand over the stone.Never let it out of your sight.
She took a deep breath, expelled it, and then gathered all her courage. She shot to her feet and turned in one motion, taking two steps toward the open door. The second man tried to block her but she used her fisted hand to deliver an uppercut. Her hand exploded in pain but she managed to keep her grip on the stone.
He was so surprised by her punch, he stumbled back a step and crashed into the bar, knocking over a vase of flowers. That gave her enough time to go for the door again. But then she was tackled from behind. She lost her balance and started to pitch forward. Bruce had his arms wrapped around her, holding her upper torso in his muscular arms, arms that had once held her with tender care.
She started to go down, taking him with her. She crashed against the floor, narrowly missing the coffee table, jarring her and rattling all her teeth. Her elbow cracked against the floor, the thin carpet not much cushion. He was on top of her now, reaching for her fisted hand and trying to claw her fingers open.
With her other elbow, she jabbed him backward as hard as she could. It connected with him and he emitted a muffled oof. He refused to let go, though.
Bruce flew backward off her. She clawed her way to her feet and glanced back in time to see the second man had had enough of Bruce and was coming after her himself. Bruce shoved him out of the way. He stumbled, fell, landing on the coffee table with an audible crack. Chloe bolted outside, running down the street, her leg muscles screaming in agony. His feet pounded the pavement behind her.
She didn’t understand why he wanted the stone or why it was so important. She didn’t understand why it continued to hum in her hand. Bruce caught up to her, grabbing herfrom behind and dragging her to him. They stumbled backward into the shadowy night, away from prying eyes in case anyone happened to look out their window. He held her against him, his breathing heavy and his heart pounding against her back.
“Give it to me,” he panted, “and I’ll let you go.”
