Samantha rose to her feet behind Quinlan. She dove into the car, and Max knew that she was going for the other gun.
“You weren’t always like this,” Max whispered, wishing it had been different, wishing everything had just been different. “You weren’t a killer—”
“But you were.” The knife glinted. “And Frank thought you were perfect.” The blade was inches from Max’s face.
Max shoved up and managed to heave his brother back.
“You won’t be perfect when I’m finished,” Quinlan promised as he launched himself at Max. They slammed onto the earth.
Max tried to hold his brother tight but his hands were slick with blood, and Quinlan was twisting and fighting beneath him. Rolling, Quinlan rose with the blade.
Quinlan’s gaze met Max’s. Then his stepbrother smiled and thrust the knife into Max’s stomach.
“No!” Samantha screamed.
Max slumped back on the ground, and a cold wind touched his skin.
“Max!” Samantha’s desperate voice rose above Quinlan’s laughter.
Max could have sworn that he heard the wail of sirens in the distance.
Quinlan licked his lips. “It’s mine—every bit was mine… and I was sick of waiting for that bastard to die.”
Max shook his head and gathered his strength. The blade would be coming at him again, and he had to be ready.
“Drop it,” came Samantha’s furious, shaking voice. “Drop it, Quinlan, or I swear I’ll put a bullet through your heart.”
CHAPTER Eighteen
Fear shook her body, but Sam held the gun rock steady. Max was barely moving. So much blood. And that prick with the knife wasn’t going to hurt him again. He wasn’t going to hurt anyone.
“It’s over,” Sam said, creeping closer.
“No…” Quinlan’s voice was soft. “It’s just beginning.”
Not for you. Because this gun wouldn’t jam. Sam took another cautious step forward. “You hear those sirens?”
And his head snapped up as he actually seemed to hear their wails for the first time.
“It’s the SSD. They’re coming for you.”
Quinlan rose and faced her head on. That’s right. Step away from Max. The sirens were so close. Hurry.
Max pushed up to his knees. She didn’t let her gaze dart to him because Quinlan still had a knife, and he was edging closer to her. “It’s over,” Sam said again.
“Bitch!” Then Quinlan seemed to crack right before her eyes. He screamed and lunged at her with fingers tight around the knife.
“Samantha!” Max’s shout. Her gaze flew to him. His eyes were full of terror and fury. As he struggled to his feet, Sam saw that his lips were moving but she couldn’t clearly hear what he was yelling because the sirens were screeching so loudly now and Quinlan was screaming as he—
“It’s over,” she whispered and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into Quinlan—not his heart but his arm, the arm that held the knife. He howled in pain as the knife flew from his fingers and slid down the embankment.
“No!” he bellowed.
Sam watched as he wrapped his fingers around the wound.
Brakes squealed as the squad cars and unmarked SSD vehicles swarmed into the area. Backup had arrived.
She didn’t lower her gun, though. She kept it aimed right at Quinlan. “It’s not going to be that easy,” she told him, her voice soft. No death by cop for him. He’d pay for his crimes.
“Sam!” Hyde’s yell, and she’d never been so happy to hear that man’s voice in her whole life.
“Get an ambulance,” she called, trembling. The icy water had robbed her of every last bit of warmth, and each time she spoke, puffs of white appeared before her mouth.
Quinlan’s head dropped. “Not ending like this! Not ending like—”
The agents closed in on him. “Quinlan Malone,” Luke Dante’s voice snapped out, “you’re under arrest.”
Sam’s breath expelled in a hard rush. Max. She lowered the gun and tried to force her fingers to ease their too-tight grip on the weapon. They hurt. Every part of her hurt. And Max, oh, God, Max, all that blood—
“Easy.” Hyde was there, standing right in front of her. He pried the gun from her fingers. “Agent Kennedy… Sam, are you all right?”
Her teeth were chattering. The bone-deep cold shook every part of her body. “M-Max…” He was the only thing that mattered to her right then. He’d gone into the water for her. He’d actually used his own body as a shield to protect her.
Been willing to die, for me.
And she’d been more than willing to kill for him.
She hurried over and fell to her knees beside him. His eyes were open. So blue.
She touched his cheek.
“Get the EMTs over here now!” Hyde barked.
“You can’t do this!” Quinlan yelled. “I’m the victim, I’m—”
“You’re a killer,” Dante said, the words drifting to her.
Sam leaned in close to Max. His skin was so pale, and the same shudders that shook her body were shaking his. Too cold. “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’re safe now.”
Safe. But death had come so close.
Hands pulled at her, trying to tug her away from Max. The EMTs. She let him go even as tears tracked down her cheeks.
Then she was being guided to a stretcher. One of the EMTs started probing her wounds, and lights flashed in a red-and-blue whirl around her.
Voices droned on, but she could only clearly hear the chatter of her teeth and the fast beat of her heart.
They loaded her into the ambulance, covered her in blankets and secured her in the back. The EMTs pushed Max in next to her. Max’s head turned, and his gaze met hers.
Someone slammed the back doors.
Max’s hand lifted and reached for her. She caught his fingers, held tight. When the ambulance lurched forward, she didn’t let go.
She never wanted to let go.
“M-Max, I love you,” she whispered, needing to say the words, desperate to say them. But his lashes had fallen shut, and she knew he hadn’t heard her.
Patching Sam up was easy. The cuts on her face just needed cleaning and bandages. Her right wrist was set and put in a splint, and the docs put fifteen stitches in her left arm. They bundled her up, got her body temperature back on track, and she finally managed to stop shaking.
And started demanding to see Max.
But it wasn’t as easy to patch him back up. Two hours later, Sam was still waiting to see him. Fear tightened her insides. Be all right. You have to be—