Chapter 21

"Jonathan, I know you're angry," David said in a slightly louder than normal voice, hoping he could draw attention away from Erica and speak loudly enough to be heard if anyone had answered the cell phone call. "But you aren't angry with her. You're angry with me. I showed up here and messed up your kidnapping."

Kinder glared at David. "You're right – I am angry with you, but you haven't messed up my plans for Erica. Now - hand over your gun."

David tried to play dumb. "I don't have a gun."

"Don't be stupid, David. You didn't come all the way up here to bust in on a convicted felon and alleged kidnapper without bringing a weapon. Plus I'm sure that wasn't your fist that connected with my head earlier. So unless you want me to take my anger out on Erica, hand it over."

David reluctantly pulled the gun out of the waistband of his pants and held it up. He wanted to shoot the bastard, but he had Erica squarely in front of him, and David wasn't sure if he could hit Kinder without hurting Erica in the process, especially with that needle against her throat.

"Put down the syringe, Kinder," he demanded.

"I don't think so."

"Okay. Can you at least tell me what's in it? Consider it professional curiosity."

Kinder raised an eyebrow at David. "Just one of my special concoctions."

David grasped at straws. If Kinder wanted to kill Erica, he'd have done it already. He'd kept her alive to play out some sick happily ever after fantasy. Surely he didn't intend to kill her now.

"You're a little out of practice," he pointed out. "How do you know it's not going to kill her?"

Erica's eyes widened in fear at David's words, and he felt bad for giving her another reason to be afraid.

"A lower dosage hasn't yet," Kinder said with a slight shrug. "It was very useful in getting her up here to my cabin, and moving forward I believe that cutting the dosage even further may keep her conscious but much easier to handle. After a while even I get tired of listening to her scream."

He smiled sadistically at David. "Then again, as you said, I am a bit out of practice. You'd hate for me to inject all of this into her bloodstream at once, wouldn't you? So put the gun down on the floor and kick it over here to me."

Common sense dictated that he hold onto his weapon, but he didn't dare call Kinder's bluff over what the contents of that syringe could do to Erica. David bent slowly as he placed the gun on the floor and kicked it across the wood floor toward Kinder. He hoped he'd been able to move carefully enough that he didn't disconnect the cell phone.

Kinder moved the syringe to his left hand and attempted to hold onto Erica as he bent to pick up the gun with his right hand. Erica's eyes locked with David's in that moment and she saw the look on his face and understood from his expression that this might be her only chance. She turned her head toward Kinder's left hand and bit down as hard as she could. His hand flexed in response, and the syringe dropped to the floor. She shifted her weight to her left foot, ignoring the pain in her injured ankle, and then she slammed her knee into Kinder's face as he bent to reach for the gun.

He was momentarily stunned by the bite and the blow to the face, but Kinder reacted as quickly as possible. As David ran toward Erica, Kinder reached for the gun, pulled it up and fired.

For David, the scene passed as if in slow motion. He saw Kinder raise the gun, and he tried to move out of the way, but he wasn't fast enough. He felt the sharp searing pain of the bullet as it tore through his left shoulder and knocked him off of his feet.

Erica kicked at Kinder again, and the gun went sliding across the floor as he cursed at her.

"You're going to pay for that!" he snarled at her.

She ignored his threats - she knew David had been hit. He'd come all of this way for her, to try to save her, and he'd been shot because of her. She rushed forward, calling out to David, intending to run toward him when Kinder reached out and grabbed her leg. She fell forward, catching herself on the floor with her injured hands. She yelled at Kinder to let go of her and kicked her legs furiously, trying to break the hold he had on her.

She lay on the floor on her stomach, trying to pull herself forward and fight off Jonathan at the same time. She knew it was likely a hopeless battle and that he'd soon overpower her, but she refused to give up without a fight. She screamed in pain when Kinder's hand caught her injured ankle. He pulled at her, trying to slide her across the floor toward him.

"No!" she ground out, stretching her arms forward, reaching out for anything she could grab to either prevent him from dragging her away or to use as a weapon against him. On the floor, just under the edge of a chair, she saw the gun.

She glanced over her shoulder and realized that Kinder was reaching for something. What the hell was he doing? Oh God, what if he really was going to kill her? What if he'd rather kill her than let David try to leave with her? She looked back at the gun. If she could just move forward a few more inches, she could get her hands on it. The whooshing sound of her heart pounding in her ears blocked out almost everything else. She thought she screamed at him to stop, to let her go, but she couldn't be sure. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. With a strength she didn't know she had, Erica pulled herself forward on the floor until her fingers touched the cold heavy metal of David's gun.

She could feel Jonathan's hands were her as he crawled up the length of her body, pinning her to the floor.

"I am tired of the games and the fighting Erica," Kinder growled at her.

She felt his hands tearing at her sweater and the remnants of her dress underneath it.

"If I have to keep you drugged until you accept the inevitable, so be it. You are mine," he said in a deadly voice.

Erica gripped the gun fully in her hands just as Kinder forcibly rolled her over onto her back. Her heart pounded in her ears and her breathing was labored, but somehow her hands were steady. For a split second, she stared into the eyes of her kidnapper, her attacker, her would-be rapist.

He jabbed the needle of the syringe into her exposed upper arm.

She pointed the gun at him and pulled the trigger.