Page 29 of Careless Whisper

What the hell?

With full sedation, he should’ve been out cold. Either he missed part of the dose, or he metabolized it like a junkyard dog. That…or adrenaline was doing what Midazolam couldn’t.

“Back the fuck up!” he bellowed, grabbing me and yanking me close. His grip was iron. Too strong. Adrenaline was flooding his system, or the meds hadn’t touched him at all.

“I swear to God, I’ll shoot her!” he shouted, jamming the gun against my temple.

Behind him, Nina tried to back out. She was too slow.

Crack.

The butt of the gun connected with her temple. She crumpled with a cry, blood streaking her cheek. There hadn’t been enough time for me to use that as a distraction to get away—and his hold was steel.

“Put that down!” he shouted at the resident with the scalpel—who, stupidly, still continued to hold it.

Shell shocked!

“I’m not armed,” I said quickly, trying to shift the focus. “Let’s not escalate this. Owen—you’re in control.”

His eyes snapped to mine, unfocused but alert. “You bet your sweet ass I am.”

I nodded slowly, reading the monitors. BP still dropping. HR erratic.

The monitor blared its angry rhythm—hemodynamics tanking, maybe tamponade, maybe vasovagal, maybe just the end.

I could see it in his skin, his breath, the tremor in his limbs—he wasn’t long for this world, even with the goddamn gun in his hand.

“You’re going into shock,” I warned him softly. “You’re pale, diaphoretic. The wound’s too close to the heart. You’re going to pass out soon.”

Actually, your MAP is basically zero; you should be face-first on the linoleum, not delivering threats like a Bond villain.

“Shut the hell up!” he snarled.

I felt the gun twitch.

Stay alive long enough to be dangerous—that’s what he was thinking. I decided to use that. “You want leverage? Then, stay conscious. Let me assess you.”

He was swaying now; his ankle bracelets weren’t going to help the asshole run, so I didn’t know what the hell he was trying to do except hurt some people before he died. I could feel it—his knees buckled. I caught part of his weight.

“You’ve got three minutes, max,” I spoke calmly. “After that, you’re not walking anywhere. You’ll be a dead man with a hostage no one can negotiate for.”

He blinked, uncertain now.

I kept my voice low and steady. “Let me help you. Keep the gun on me if you have to. But let me save your life.”

The room was still. The monitors beeped their slow warning.

Then—

The overhead lights flickered. Hauser flinched. The gun jerked sideways, and a single shot rang out.

A scream.

The smell of ozone.

Then silence.

CHAPTER 10

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