Page 71 of The Secret Librarian
‘Let go!’ she screamed, fighting with everything she had as William hauled her into the room.
But as he pulled her, as Avery frantically looked up for help, screaming, she saw James running towards her.
‘Let go of her!’ James shouted.
William didn’t relent, and when she glanced at him, kicking as hard as she could, she didn’t see the man she’d only an hour earlier been sitting with in the hotel bar: charming, engaging and sophisticated. The man who’d so easily convinced her to come upstairs with him. Now, she saw a man with his hair sticking up and his eyes wide, his mouth pulled back into a sneer. This man was fighting for his life as much as she was fighting for hers.
‘I said let go of her!’ James shouted again, as he grabbed hold of her arms.
But it wasn’t James who stopped William.
A gunshot echoed out, the noise so loud that Avery felt as if the bullet had whirred past her head. It was a bang that reverberated through her and left her ear ringing, her jaw aching as she tried to move it up and down to clear her ear canal; as if she’d travelled up a mountain and it was blocked.
But it was the violent hold on her ankle disappearing that surprised her the most, then the feeling of James pulling her forward, tugging her to the safety of his arms, holding her against his chest.
Avery stared over his shoulder at Camille, who was standing, her arm raised, a pistol held steady in her hand, until her shoulders slumped as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done. Or perhaps she did know, and she was collapsing in relief. It was William she’d shot, and not James.
‘You bitch.’
Avery had just closed her eyes when she was yanked backwards, and she turned in horror to see William, blood soaking through the shoulder of his shirt, trying to pull her away from James. She was flung to the floor when James shoved him, the two of them tumbling backwards into the hotel room, a blur of limbs as punches were thrown and they fought on the ground.
Avery scrambled back on her heels, palms to the floor, scooting close to Camille who had the pistol raised again. But Camille didn’t have a clear line of sight. If she fired, it would be anyone’s guess who she would shoot.
‘Camille, no,’ Avery cried.
But James was on the ground now. William was taller and bigger than him, and even with a gunshot wound to the shoulder, Avery knew there was a chance that he could kill James with his bare hands and then come for her again.
She wanted to run and scream for help, couldn’t stop wondering how no one had come out of their rooms, but it was mostly menstaying here and she could only guess that they were downstairs in the bar.
Avery closed her eyes, too scared to watch, wrapping her arms around her knees and squeezing as hard as she could, trying to ignore the searing pain from where William had grabbed her. The pain in her throat was even worse, on fire from when he’d tried to choke her, and she wondered if her voice would ever return to normal.
But then the pistol fired again. The noise was as loud as the first time, but it sounded different, as if it had been fired at close range. When Avery opened her eyes, she saw William had fallen, blood seeping through his shirt, but he wasn’t the only one bleeding.
Somehow, while Avery’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, he’d turned the gun on Camille. Camille was staggering towards her, her dress pooling with blood, her hands already red from pressing against her wound. William’s eyes were open but vacant, as if they were made of glass, and James was lying on the ground, breathing heavily, a knife beside him.
‘Camille?’ Avery cried, forcing her legs to work as she launched herself forward to catch her, guiding her body to the ground.
‘Shot me,’ she whispered. ‘The bastard shot me.’
Avery placed Camille’s hand firmly over her wound, cradling her for a moment, easing her back so she could lean against the wall. Then she got up and raced over to James, just as he was getting up, his cheek bruised and his eye already swelling over.
‘James?’ she whispered, hovering over him. ‘Where are you hurt?’
‘I’m fine. You?’ He ran his eyes over her, as if to inspect every inch of her to make sure she was intact.
‘Go to her,’ he urged, his fingers against William’s neck.
Avery had to look away. She couldn’t stand to see William’s body like that, his eyes open, the blood pooling on the carpetbeneath him. But she knew she had to have a stronger stomach for Camille – her friend’s life might depend on her being capable, and she had no intention of letting her down.
‘You saved my life back there,’ Avery whispered, scared to see how much blood was trickling through Camille’s fingers as she held her wound.
‘You would have done the same for me,’ Camille whispered back.
Avery didn’t know what to do. She crouched down, her hands fluttering, wanting to take care of her friend but not knowing how. She looked back to James and saw that he was now striding towards them, his face tense, set in a line that told her he was as worried as she was.
‘You need to get Camille out of here,’ James ordered, as he tore off his jacket and shirt, ripping it in half to tie it around her wound, stemming the blood flow. ‘Take her somewhere safe and do everything you can to stop her bleeding.’
Avery could only imagine how helpless she looked as she stared up at James, but he caught her hand in his and stared deep into her eyes.
