Page 71 of Some Saviors Can Break You

His attention diverted, Florence rolled him to the side and twisted the arm that held the gun up and behind him.

Toby shrieked and lashed out with his free hand connecting with her neck where the bullet had grazed her, and she felt a shaft of pain fly through her body. Blood was flowing from the wound, but she was pretty sure that since she was still capable of moving that it hadn't hit her arteries. She twisted his arm up further and pressed down so he was unable to take another go at her.

“You’re bleeding,” Eli said as he dropped down beside her.

“I’m fine, handcuffs should be on the counter can you get them for me?”

“Let go of me,” Toby growled.

Twisting his arm up further he yelped in pain, and a sense of satisfaction filled her. It wasn't much, but it felt good to be the one inflicting pain on him.

“Here.”

Taking the cuffs from Eli, she snapped one onto the wrist she still held and then maneuvered him onto his stomach and secured the other end of the cuffs to his other wrist.

Then she sank back against the kitchen counter.

This time Toby hadn't won, she had.

He was in cuffs, she’d read him his rights, and she’d do whatever was necessary to keep him locked up.

“He shot you,” Eli sounded outraged as he pressed something to her neck.

“Grazed my neck, if I was bleeding out we’d know. Hey.” She scrambled up onto her knees when she saw blood on his shirt. “He got you too.”

“It’s fine, princess, just grazed my arm.” His hands covered her shoulders, and he eased her back so she was sitting and propped against the counter, then held a towel to her neck.

“I told you to leave, what were you thinking staying in here when that man wanted to kill you?” she said, perhaps a little louder than necessary, but as adrenalin drained from her system, fear of what might have happened was growing.

“You really think I would have left you in here alone with him?” Eli demanded, pressing harder against her wound and making her suck in a pained breath. “Sorry,” he said, lightening his grip. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come back here alone while that man was after you.”

“It’s over now,” she reminded him, glancing at Toby who was still on his stomach on the kitchen floor. The puddle of blood around him was growing, and she didn't want him to bleed out. “We need to try to stop the bleeding, and I need to call Jake, tell him what happened,” she said, moving to stand.

“I don’t want you near him,” Eli said, holding her in place. “You stay here, keep pressure on your wound, call your partner, explain what happened, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t die before you get justice for yourself and those other girls.”

Grateful that Eli understood without her having to explain that she couldn’t risk Toby dying before he was charged and was forced to face what he’d done, she closed her eyes and rested her head back.

It was over.

Never again would she have to go to bed at night knowing that the Coffin Killer might have his next victim in his clutches.

Never again would she have to worry about coming home to find another letter bragging about a child’s murder waiting for her.

“Here, can you hold this with the cast on?” Eli asked as he gently lifted her casted arm and put her fingers on the towel.

“Yeah, I got it.” It was awkward but even with the cast she could use her fingers to put pressure on the wound.

“And here’s your phone.” He pressed her phone into her other hand and then he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You're something else, you know that? Seeing you take down a man twice your size is something I won't ever forget.”

“I had all the motivation in the world,” she said softly, opening her eyes to stare into Eli’s. There wasn't anything she wouldn’t do to make sure nothing happened to him.

11:23 A.M.

“I missed you,” Eli said, walking into Florence’s hospital room, dragging her into his arms, and kissing her.

“I missed you, too,” she said, settling against his chest and tucking her head under his chin.

Because of the shooting and the fact that both of them had heard Toby Lane’s confession, they’d been separated once the cops showed up. He’d been going out of his mind worrying that Florence’s injury was worse than they’d thought, and having to give his statement and answer a million questions was torture. All he’d wanted was to see with his own eyes that she was aliveand okay, to hold her and kiss her, then take her home and try to forget that this nightmare ever happened.

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