If she thought he was leaving her, she was nuts. “Can’t. You’re my heart,” he murmured.
An explosion rocked the city.
“No!” Pippa cried out. She tried to move forward and then had to catch herself with a chair.
Isaac lifted his head to listen, delight crossing his expression.
Another explosion detonated.
Mal’s stomach dropped. God. How many people had just died?
Glee had Isaac dancing in an odd parody of celebration. “That’s two. How lovely.But because of your hard and impenitent heart you are storing up wrath for yourself on the day of wrath when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed.”
“Romans 2:5,” Pippa murmured. “You know, Isaac. I don’t think you really understand the Bible.” Her head lolled a little on her neck, and her gun shook wildly.
Mal tried to keep his head. “Pippa? Put down the gun, honey.” If she shot Isaac, there was a good chance the bomb would trigger.
She sighed. “I love you, Malcolm. Please leave.”
“Love?” Isaac spat. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes widened even as her head bobbed. “We’ve had sex. Lots and lots of sex, Isaac. Tell Malcolm to leave, and I’ll tell you all about it. We can die together. See God together. Wouldn’t you like to see me punished?”
Isaac turned beet red. “Malcolm doesn’t get to live on. We will all die. I have done my duty for my God.” His body tensed.
Force’s voice crackled over the line. “Bomb squad here. Have confirmed there is not a dead man’s switch. Repeat. No dead man’s switch.”
Mal fired instantly, hitting Isaac between the eyes. Then he slid forward on his knees and caught the garage door opener before it could hit the floor. Jesus. He froze in place. Pippa still had a bomb on her chest. “Bomb squad to Sam’s Coffee Shop. Now,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
Then he stood and moved toward her.
Force ran inside, out of breath, wire cutters in his hands. “Two of the vests were locked.” He approached Pippa slowly and then snapped the lock.
He and Mal gently slid it free of her arms just as she went down, her eyelids fluttering, her body going still in unconsciousness. Mal caught her, and her gun dropped to the floor.
“Run,” Force ordered, grabbing the door.
Mal tucked her tight and ran as fast as he could away from the backpack.
Chapter Forty-Four
Pippa awoke to the beep of monitors and the vague feeling of aches and pains in her face. She opened her eyes to see a private hospital room with a huge bouquet of vibrant red roses on the counter. Malcolm slept in a chair, his whiskered chin on his chest, his large body hunched. “Mal?” she croaked, her throat dry.
He jerked and opened his stunning green eyes. One side of his lip lifted in a lopsided smile. “Hey, beautiful.”
She blinked several times and tried to remember everything that had happened. Vulnerability swamped her, and she felt exposed. Way too far out in the world. Then she frowned. “My skin itches. Bad.”
He leaned forward and pushed the hair away from her eyes. His touch was gentle and comforting, and this close, his scent of man and forest eased her. “It’s a side effect of heroin. The docs checked your blood, and Isaac shot you up but good.”
“Isaac,” she said, her head aching. “Dead?”
“Very much so.” Mal’s eyes darkened. “So are your mother and the redheaded woman who planned the march. I’m so very sorry, Pippa.”
The words were a blow but not unexpected. “How many people did they kill?” she asked, tears clogging her throat.
Mal shook his head. “None. We had them contained and were working to get them to remove the backpacks. They both decided to detonate instead.” He sighed. “There were some injuries outside the blast area, a couple serious, but everyone is going to live.”
There was at least that. “I wish I could’ve helped her somehow.” Pippa’s chest hurt.
