A glint she could easily read.
He knew the two of them were no longer alone, and he knew that if he was caught by Blade and his team, they’d torture him for information before killing him. He also had to know he was going to lose her. Even if he hadn't known before that she had joined up with the team Dr. Gardner was hunting, Blade had just called out her name so now Terry knew that the Delta Team guys knew who she was.
There was no way he was letting her go. He was definitely an “if I can't have her, no one can” kind of guy.
This was it.
This was how she was going to die.
Moments away from rescue.
Ironically enough, if she’d just stayed in that shipping container, she would have lived. The guys would have found her, they would have captured Terry Richards or at least killed him before he could take her out with him. In attempting to save herself, she’d signed her own death warrant.
“Touch her, and you die the most agonizingly painful and excruciating slow death I can give you, Richards,” Blade’s voice screamed.
She could hear everything she needed in it. His fury at the man who had abducted her, his fear for her, his panic at not being able to stop her death from happening, and his growing feelings for her.
At least if she was about to die, she’d gotten this, the love of another person, someone who didn't judge her for what she’d done, and just accepted her for her. She could take her final breath knowing that she mattered to someone and that she’d be missed.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
January 17th
1:01 A.M.
“He’s going to take her down,” Blade roared to no one in particular as he watched Terry Richards rush toward Whitney.
She’d heard him call her name, and she’d turned when he issued a warning, now she was standing there, frozen in fright and he could only imagine what was running through her mind.
He knew what was running through his.
He was too far away.
There was no way he could get to her in time if she went over the edge. He was fast, but he wasn't that fast. Nobody was. Well, nobody except Thunder.
Apparently, Thunder had the same thought he did because his friend suddenly took off at his superhuman speed. There was a chance he could reach her before she hit the ground.
Voodoo also dashed off after Thunder. His near-magic ability to heal might come in handy if the worst happened.
But Blade stopped.
Raised his weapon.
Aimed it at the lunatic preparing to take Whitney over the edge, crashing down onto the concrete below. Taking her to what could be her death. It was a survivable fall. Potentially. But with the weight of Terry Richards’ much larger body following her down, likely landing on top of her, there was every chance she might not survive.
So he forced himself to slow down the beating of his heart, focused on his target, drew in a single, long, slow breath, then on the exhale, he pulled the trigger.
Blade heard the bullet whizz through the air, heard it connect with his target, heard the sound of breaking bone as it tore through the man’s skull, decimating his brain, and ending his life. As much as he’d like to keep Terry Richards alive long enough to exact revenge for everything the man had put Whitney through, and to extract whatever intel they could to find Dr. Gardner, right now the man was a threat to Whitney’s life, one that had to be eliminated quickly and efficiently.
The body went down, hitting the top of the shipping container with a satisfying thud, but Blade’s joy and relief were short-lived, because Terry must have been close enough to Whitney to jostle her as his dead body dropped.
From where he was, Blade heard her gasp, watched in horror as her arms windmilled as she tried to regain her balance, but it was too late to stop gravity.
For a moment, it was like she hung in midair, not fully falling, but without steady footing on the shipping container.
But then she was falling.
