No Control

Kara let out a pained yelp and instinctively curled her arms over her head. The gun went flying, but Lana didn’t bother wasting precious seconds to look for it. Instead, she forced herself to her feet and gathered every scrap of anger and pain and terror Kara had forced on her. She saw the face of every friend she’d lost, heard their pain-filed cries for help. She couldn’t do anything then, but she could now.



Lana shoved al that emotion into a tight bal and let it explode inside her in a frightening rush of strength. The giant bookcase moved easily as she ripped it away from the wal and pushed it over.



The tal furniture toppled and books slid out, landing in a heavy pile over Kara’s torso. Kara let out a high-pitched scream, but Lana could not find even a sliver of pity for the trapped woman. Kara deserved whatever she got.



Al Lana felt was a giddy wave of victory and a terrifying need to finish the job. She wanted to kil Kara—to watch the light of life flicker and die behind her eyes.



The door slammed open and Caleb appeared, his big body outlined in sunlight. He had a gun in his hand, which he carefuly lowered with slow, precise movements. He turned and shouted over his shoulder, “We need an ambulance!”



Caleb stepped inside, his eyes roaming over the scene, taking it in in a split second. He puled her against him in a desperate hug that made breathing even more difficult. It lasted only a heartbeat before he released her and bent his knees, making himself short enough to look right into her face. “You okay?” he asked, his voice even.



Lana was too out of breath to answer, but she gave him an unsteady nod. Kara’s gun lay on the ground at Lana’s feet. She reached down, picked it up, and aimed it at Kara’s head.



Caleb’s voice was low and gentle. “You don’t want to do this, Lana. You don’t want her death on your hands.”



“She tortured and kiled my friends. She tortured me. She ordered my death. She threatened my family. She deserves to die.”



“Yes, but you don’t deserve to be the one to pul the trigger. Kiling someone is a heavy responsibility. You’ve already suffered enough because of her. Don’t let her cause you any more pain.”



“She would have kiled hundreds of people today, and if she lives, she’l try to do it again. She already escaped once.”



“She won’t get away again. Look at her. She can’t move. Her back is probably broken. She’s finished.”



Lana looked down at the woman. Realy looked at her. Her face was bleeding from various scratches Lana had gouged into her skin. Her left eye was sweling shut. Her nose looked crooked and was bleeding heavily. A thick, purple bruise was darkening over her throat where Lana had choked her. Her limbs were unnaturaly stil. She was trapped. Helpless. Broken.



Just like Lana had been in Armenia when Kara had ordered her death.



“Please don’t kil me,” begged Kara.



Lana felt no pity for her. None. She would have kiled those children today if Caleb hadn’t stopped her.



Al Lana had to do was move one finger a scant inch and it would be over. Sure, there were other terrorists out there, but this one would be dead. Lana would know it for a fact. No more worries that Kara would see the fear in her eyes and know. No more nightmares about the elegant voice ordering her death. Al she had to do was pul the trigger and take back a sliver of control. Al she needed was a tiny sliver. It wasn’t asking for much after what she’d been through.



Kara gave Lana a defiant stare burning with hatred. There was no question that Kara would try to kil her if she got the chance—if Lana let her live.



Al she had to do was twitch. Just a little.



Sweat roled down Lana’s temple, stinging the cut there. Her whole body was quivering from the rush of adrenaline, and her breathing seemed too loud.



“You can’t do it,” urged Caleb.



“Yes, I can. Watch me.”



“You’re not a kiler. You’re not like her.”



In that moment, Lana knew exactly what she had to do. She had to take back control of her life—recapture it from those who had tried to steal it away from her. And there was only one true way to do that. She had to let her anger go before she turned into one of them.



Lana lowered the weapon, sliding it back into Caleb’s big hands. “You’re right. I’m not like her.”



She felt Caleb’s muscled body behind her relax fractionaly. He took the weapon from her hands just as Grant came rushing into the apartment.



Kara tried to scream, but it came out as more of a wet gurgle. “You bitch! I should have kiled you a dozen times over. I should have made you watch your family die one by one.”



Lana couldn’t stay here and hear this. She had to get out.



“Grant, stay with Kara until the paramedics arrive, then contact Monroe,” said Caleb.



“I’m on it.”



Lana was halfway down the sidewalk when Caleb caught up to her. He shoved the disk from the video camera into his pocket and puled her to a stop. “Hold on a minute, honey,” he said, his voice so gentle. “You’re in shock,” he said as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms.



Lana couldn’t seem to make sense of his words. She blinked up at him. The sun was behind him, casting his face in shadows, just like it had been that day he’d carried her out of the cave. He’d saved her then, and with a sudden realization, she knew that he’d done it again.



He’d kept her from kiling Kara. Proved to her she was in control of her life. Her decisions. No one could take that away from her, no matter what Kara or anyone else did to try to tear her life apart. It was her life, and no matter how much evil she’d been forced to face in the past months, she couldn’t let it define her. Not anymore.



“Sit down.” He guided her to a step and lowered her to the warm concrete. “Give yourself a minute to let the adrenaline wear off. I can hear an ambulance now, and they can take a look at your head.”



“My head?” Somewhere in the dim haze of crazy signals her body was giving out, she realized that her head hurt. She reached her hand up to that spot, and it came away red with blood. “She hit me with her gun.”



“You stil took her down.” She heard the pride in Caleb’s deep voice.



“I didn’t kil her,” stated Lana, as if he hadn’t been right there.



“I knew you wouldn’t.”



His faith in her was humbling.



The ambulance puled into the parking lot, the siren making Lana’s head feel like it was going to split open. A young EMT hurried to her side and started poking at her, flashing a light in her eyes, pressing a bandage over the wound. She wanted to leave, but Caleb held her in place while they patched her up.



“We should take her to the hospital,” said the EMT.



“No hospital!” said Lana, feeling panic rise up inside her. She couldn’t stand the thought of being confined in a stark room that reeked of death and hopelessness.



“I’l look out for her,” said Caleb.



The EMT gave Caleb a strange look she couldn’t understand—some sort of silent male communication. “Keep an eye on her, and if she gets worse, bring her in.”



“The woman inside needs your attention more than Lana,” Caleb told the man.



The EMT left to go inside, and Lana needed to get away before he came back and changed his mind. If he tried to take her to a hospital, she might just find a use for a gun.



She tried to get to her feet, but her legs were too weak.



“Just sit. I won’t let them take you to the hospital. You’l feel better once you give yourself a few minutes to let the shock wear off.”



“I’l feel better when this is over. Realy over.”



Marcus shoved the limp, nearly naked body of the paramedic into the ambulance. The man’s clothes were a little snug, but they would have to do. Cleaning up this mess wouldn’t take long if he hurried. Doubtlessly, police would be arriving soon, but they were a bit occupied with the recent bomb scare at First Light Foundation.



Thank you, Kara.



He grabbed what looked like a tackle box to complete his disguise and headed toward the apartment building.



Caleb held Lana close, thanking God she was stil alive.



Grant was on the far side of the parking lot, where Lana couldn’t hear what he was saying to Monroe. It was probably best that she had as little involvement with Kara as possible. Until the trial.



That wasn’t going to be any fun, but Caleb was going to be right there by her side the whole time, supporting her. No matter what it took.



The second paramedic came up the sidewalk.



“Your partner’s inside,” Caleb told him, motioning toward Lana’s apartment.



“Thanks.”



He veered around them. Sunlight bounced off his highly polished shoes, revealing a few drops of blood.



“You’ve got some blood on your shoe,” said Caleb.



The man didn’t even slow down enough to look. “Last cal was messy. Hazard of the job.”



Caleb didn’t want to know. He puled Lana closer, ready to interrupt him if he decided to share any stories.



Lana clung to him, and it felt good. He wasn’t sure how he was ever going to let her go.



She looked up at him, her eyes a bright, sorrowful blue. “Can we go?”



The apartment door clicked shut behind them.



Why would they have done that? Her apartment was dark. Wouldn’t they want the extra light?



Caleb turned around and looked at the closed door, and a feeling of dread started to swel. Something was wrong here.



The shoes.



Since when did EMTs wear expensive dress shoes on the job?



They didn’t. That man wasn’t an EMT.



Caleb prayed he was a reporter hunting for the inside scoop, but he didn’t think he’d get that lucky.



Two muffled pops sounded from the apartment, folowed by one more. Silenced shots.



No luck today.



“Get in the car,” Caleb told Lana.



“What’s wrong?” she asked.



Caleb didn’t have time to explain. “Grant!” he belowed as he charged up the sidewalk, drawing his weapon.



Grant looked up from his conversation, saw there was a problem, and started toward them.



Caleb couldn’t wait for him to catch up. Lana was stil too close.



The apartment door flew open. The imposter EMT held a Sig Sauer like he knew how to use it. He fired.



Caleb’s body jerked, and he spun to the left. He felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer, and he had to struggle to stay on his feet.



The man leveled his weapon, but this time he wasn’t aiming at Caleb. He was aiming for Lana. And she wasn’t wearing a buletproof vest like he was.



Caleb was not going to let her get hurt again. Never again.



Rage filed him up, making him stronger, faster. He forced his body to move despite the pain in his chest. He fired his weapon, even though he knew he’d have to get lucky to hit anything while at a dead run. The man flinched, distracting him for a split second. It was al the time Caleb needed.



He lunged at the man, putting the ful force of his anger into the motion. He slammed the man into the wal of the building with a satisfying thud.



Another sledgehammer drove the breath from his body. His arm went numb for a moment, and he heard his weapon clatter to the ground. In the back of his mind, he recognized he’d taken another round.