“What would you know about faith, Polly?”
The rush of the river grew louder, making panic swell in her chest. “I know it doesn’t hurt people. I also know that you killing women doesn’t make you holy. It makes yousmall. Evil. It makes you a murderer.” Another shove against his back. “At least admit the truth of your actions—you don’t do this for God,you do it for control. You can dress it up in scripture, but in the end, it’s just you taking people and hurting them. It’s you committing crimes against women, and those crimes are far greater than anything those women ever did.”
He dropped her, and pain shot through her side as she hit the ground. “Do not presume to know anything about scripture or God or faith.”
She pushed up, refusing to let her elbows give way this time. “How about I presume to know something aboutyou,then? A woman cheated on you, didn’t she? Or she just hurt you. Bruised your ego. And instead of accepting it and walking away, you turned it into a crusade against every woman who reminded you that you’re not the one in control.”
The hit came hard and fast, shooting into her cheek and sending her back to the ground.
“You do not speak to me like that!” he yelled. “You arenotin control here. I am.”
“You can kill me. But first you need to hear me when I say this.” She forced her head up so she could look him dead in the eye. “This isn’t some divine purpose. It’syoubeing a toxic male who can’t stand women thinking for themselves. The moment a woman lives beyond the box you try to shove her in, you call her dangerous. That says everything aboutyou, and nothing abouther.”
Red flushed his cheeks, his chest rising on a deep inhale before he fisted a handful of her hair and dragged her over the rocks bordering the fast-moving river. “I don’t have Jenna anymore, so no drugs. Sorry.”
“Let go of me,” she screamed, reaching up and clawing at his hand.
He plunged her head beneath the surface.
Her lips snapped shut and she held her breath while digging her nails into his forearm above the water.
It did nothing. His grip was too strong.
Suddenly, he tugged her head up, and she gasped for air.
“Lord, I am your instrument. I will correct what has fallen out of your control.” He slammed her head beneath the water again.
Cold water crashed over her face, flooded her mouth. She reached up and attacked his hand, pulling at his fingers, scratching at his skin.
Come on!
Her lungs started to scream, her head feeling so lightheaded she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d remain conscious.
She didn’t want to die. She had too much to live for.
She forced herself to concentrate. To stay awake.
His stance changed, and she quickly rolled her body to the side, tucked up her leg and kicked out. There was little aim involved, but she hit a hard surface.
Cox’s grip on her hair didn’t loosen, but as he fell, she was tugged sideways, up and out of the water.
She gasped in a lungful of air, black dots dancing in her vision.
“Stop fighting this,” he growled, as he pushed back up to his knees.
She threw an elbow into his gut, but he didn’t so much as grunt.
Her head was halfway to the water and she was preparing to hold her breath when the loud report of a bullet cut through the evening air.
Cox grunted, his fingers finally releasing her hair as he fell sideways.
Polly dropped to all fours, her chest heaving as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She shot a glance at Cox.
He grabbed his shoulder. “What the hell?”
She followed his gaze to the figure moving toward them. At first, the woman was a blur.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
