Ыоуве Been Warned   ::   Patterson James

“Oh, no, you don’t!”

I yank the gun out of Stephen’s cold grip and whip around, fumbling for the trigger. Penley is charging right at me.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” she yells, and she doesn’t sound anything like her old self. Strange, but in a way, I like the new Penley a little better.

She raises her arm high, her elbow cocked and ready to pounce, that is, stab. The blade is covered with Michael’s blood, and now she wants mine on it too.

I close my eyes.

Then immediately open them again.

Don’t think, just shoot.



Chapter 105



PFFTT.

Pfftt.

Those sounds may be strange, but they’re deadly.

Penley folds in two and collapses right in front of me. The knife in her hand slices down inches from my face. The first bullet struck her in the chest; the second, the right side of her forehead.

I look at the knife, wondering how she would have one in her possession.

She didn’t.

It’s a letter opener. Suffice to say, the kind they would never let you bring on an airplane. Long and sharp. On the sleek silver handle I can see engraved lettering: “The Fálcon Hotel.”

Nice touch.

I struggle fiercely to rise to my feet, emptying my lungs with just about the deepest exhale of my life. But the relief is short. I look at Michael, then hurry over to him. He’s facedown. His breath is coming in short gasps that seem very painful.

“Michael, can you hear me?”

He blinks slowly, his eyes searching. “Kris?”

His voice is so weak, and he’s coughing blood onto the rug.

“I’m right here,” I say. “I’m going to get help for you.”

But I think we both know he’s beyond that. Michael’s neck and chest are shredded, a gory multitude of stab wounds. He’s lost so much blood already, it’s a wonder he can speak.

“You have to get out of here,” he says. “The police…”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He’s fading on me, struggling to talk. “No, you need to hurry. Run. Get away from here.”

Where? Where do I go?

Michael spells it out with his last breath, his final words to me.

“The kids,” he whispers.

His eyes go wide.

“Michael!” I yell. “Michael!”

But he’s gone.

Michael’s dead.

And instantly I realize – that makes three bodies.