Page 59 of Ghost Hunted

I uncuff her wrists and ankle, and then pull her into my lap. I make her straddle me, then wrap my arms around her, hugging her.

“It’s okay, Lia. I’m here. I love you.”

She cuddles closer to me, and my heartbeat steadies. Could her memory have returned? Could she—

“Don’t move.”

Her voice is suddenly steely hard, and I feel the tip of something just as hard against my chest.

I inch back, and realize she took advantage of her position in my arms to grab the gun from my back pocket. Shit.

“Lia.”

“Don’t move.” Her voice is still as hard, as emotionless as before. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

“Okay…”

“I’m going to shoot you in the chest. Right there.” She edges backward until she’s standing up, naked from the waist down, her shirt still pulled up over her breasts. “But first, you’re going to tell me what you did with my Jane.”

“Lia…”

“Don’t say my name!” Her voice comes out high-pitched and unnatural. “Don’t say my name, or I’ll shoot right away! Where’s Jane? What did you do to Jane?”

“Lia, I didn’t do anything to her.” I stand up, flinching as the barrel of the gun follows me and her finger finds the trigger. “But I can tell you where she is. Why don’t you be a good girl and put that gun down?”

She shakes her head. “You’re trying to keep me here. But I’m not a prisoner. I’ve been a prisoner all my life. But not anymore. I’m going to kill you.”

“Right. Okay.”

I hear the soft, distant sound of the front door opening, and beads of sweat pearl at my temples. I don’t care so much about dying. But I don’t want to die at my girl’s hands. Or leave this Earth, knowing she could go after our daughter next. “Okay, Lia. Let me fix this. How can I fix it?”

“You can’t.” Her voice is harsher than ever. “I’m going to kill you. Tell me where my Jane is, or I’ll make it hurt.”

“Fuck…”

“You have three seconds. Three…”

“She’s back in the States,” I tell her, trying hard not to think of the rest of that story. “The Puicin Gang took her back to the States.”

“Two…”

“I don’t know why,” I add. “I promise you, Lia, I don’t know.”

“One…”

“But I’ll help you find out. Let me help you find out.”

“Liar!”

She points the gun at me, her finger against the trigger. I barely have time to take in her glazed-over expression before I see her finger pull it, slowly, very slowly.

Or maybe she’s not being slow at all. Maybe it’s shock that’s making everything happen in slow-motion.

At the same time, or maybe a fraction of a second before, the door swings open, and a large, hoodie-clad shape crosses the room at lightning speed. Then comes the sound of a thunderous explosion, and I fall to my knees in surprise. But I’m not hit.

For once, she hasn’t injured me.

And then I hear the sound of a strangled scream.