Page 123 of Say You Will

“Give me the gun,” Mom says.

Heart in my throat, I turn my head her way, but her attention isn’t on me. It’s on her boyfriend David, the stuntman who conveniently “saved” me from the supposedly obsessed fan who tried to kidnap me.

He passes his weapon into her waiting hand.

“Get in the car, Franki.” She’s not pointing the gun anywhere in particular. Instead, she waves it around like it’s one of her movie props.

I shake my head slowly. “Just go, and we’ll forget this happened. It’s not too late for you to leave without getting hurt.”

“David, go get the dog. If we have him, Franki will cooperate.”

David shoots her a look that couldn’t more clearly express“Do I have to?”

Her lips tighten. “Do it.”

“Don’t touch him,” I say. “Oliver, run.”

Chaos ensues as Oliver attempts to get to me, David attempts to catch Oliver, and Spencer bravely inserts himself between Oliver and his attempted captor.

“Get out of my way,” David says.

Spencer shakes his head and swallows hard. “I will not. You’re not taking Franki or her dog.”

“How are you going to stop me? Butler me into submission?”

Spencer lifts his fists in a boxer’s stance. David laughs, then throws a punch, but Spencer dodges it and nails him with a right hook.

David’s next strike makes contact in a glancing blow to Spencer’s jaw, but Spencer counters with an uppercut that sends David reeling and punch-drunk into the gravel.

Then Spencer draws a taser from beneath his suit jacket, directs it at David, and lifts his chin. “I’m not a butler. I’m Henry McRae’s personal assistant.”

David scrambles back toward me, and Spencer shocks the shit out of him. When the charge is complete, he says, “Stay away from her.”

For the first time, Nick speaks. “You said this was a rescue mission. I didn’t sign on to be an accessory to kidnapping.”

Mom lifts her hand to her chest. “Itisa rescue mission. She’s confused. Franki, I know you want to come with me. Remember when you were little, and I had to leave, and you cried like your heart was broken? All the cards you’d send me. All the pictures.”

Spencer speaks again, his steps crunching on the pea gravel as he moves closer and closer. “Ms. Jones, you have no idea what a mistake you’re making. If you take her, hewill killyou.”

“Oh,” Henry says coldly from somewhere to my right, “he absolutely will.”

thirty-eight

Henry

Fire on Fire | Sam Smith

Franki leans against theSUV, her right hand hidden under black fleece, but on her gun. A goose egg has risen on her temple, and her cheekbone is swollen. The lurid pink will eventually blossom into a purple bruise and a spectacular black eye.

She turns her head toward me when I speak and nearly collapses against the SUV, relief flaring in her eyes.

I have my Glock trained on Guinevere. Dante came around the other side at an angle and has his weapon trained on thebodyguard. I trust Spencer to handle the unarmed man he’s got a taser directed at.

I’d nearly squeezed the trigger and dropped all three of them before they’d realized Dante and I were here.

I hesitated because of the trauma it would cause Franki. Then the guard had spoken, and, reluctantly, I decided to give them the opportunity to redeem themselves.

A month ago, the question of whether I simply killed Guinevere, the guard, and the driver wouldn’t have been an issue. I’d have evaluated the situation dispassionately and made a choice.

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