man showed no reaction. At the third floor, the stairs ended in an open-air balcony with pitched ceilings and a skylight. To Jack’s left was an office. To the right was a large, unfurnished room. Although he couldn’t see it from his position, he knew there was a door on the north wall that led out onto the rooftop deck.
Without hesitating, the masked man pulled Cameron into the room on Jack’s right. Jack followed, realizing that however long the man had been inside the house, waiting, it had been long enough to familiarize himself with the layout.
The man headed to the door that led outside. There was a moment’s pause as he shifted his position, then, reaching around Cameron’s neck, he pinned her against his body with his elbow and forearm. He pointed the gun upward, bracing the muzzle right underneath her chin. He reached his free hand behind him to unlock the door.
So precarious was Cameron’s position at that moment, Jack couldn’t contemplate taking a shot—one slip of the intruder’s arm and it would all be over.
He needed to say something, anything to reach out to her. “Cameron—look at me.”
“Jack,” she whispered, her eyes holding his and pleading.
He heard a crash downstairs, the sound of wood splintering—a breaking door—just as the masked man pushed open the door to the deck and pulled Cameron outside. With two hands on his gun, Jack followed them across the rooftop. Behind them, the pitched walls of the house and the room they had exited blocked the view of the street, which meant it was impossible for Jack to see what was happening with the police officers below.
The man moved steadily and quickly to the far wall of the rooftop. He kept Cameron in front of him at all times, never giving Jack any opening. Without saying a word, he backed against the wall that overlooked the backyard. He glanced sideways, and Jack assumed he was searching for the fire escape one story below them.
Then he turned and looked at Jack.
Everything happened in an instant—the man suddenly took his gun off Cameron, pointed it at Jack, and pulled back the trigger.
“No!” Cameron shouted. She grabbed for the gun as it fired and the bullet splintered the wood of the deck mere inches from Jack’s feet. Cameron faced the man as they struggled. Jack didn’t have a shot with her between them, so he lunged for them instead.
The gun went off again and Cameron stumbled back.
“Cameron!” Jack yelled.
He caught her as she sank to the deck. He saw blood spreading over her blazer. While he held her, the man bolted and dove over the side of the roof, onto the fire escape.
“He’s getting away,” Cameron muttered with a stunned, pale look. “Just leave me.”
Like hell he would.
Harper and Regan burst through the doorway with their guns drawn.
“He ran down the fire escape,” Jack shouted as he eased Cameron down to get a better look at the gunshot wound.
The cops moved instantly toward the fire escape, then ducked for cover as shots rang out from below. There was a pause, presumably as the killer ran, and the cops took off in pursuit.
Jack focused on Cameron. He reached into his blazer for his cell phone and called for the paramedics and backup.
“Is Collin okay?” she asked when he hung up the phone.
“An ambulance is on the way. Everything’s okay now.” Jack pushed her blazer off. “Jesus, Cameron—what were you thinking?”
“I couldn’t just let him shoot you.”
“Wouldn’t have been the first time for me.” Jack saw that the blood was coming from her shoulder. Not wasting a moment, he yanked open the top two buttons of her shirt and pushed it aside to get a better look.
Cameron closed her eyes. “Tell me the truth—how bad is it?”
Jack hesitated.
She panicked. “Oh God—that bad?”
He decided it would be best to just lay it on the line. “So on a scale of one to ten of all the gunshot wounds I’ve seen, this is . . .”
Her eyes widened.
“. . . about a point two.”
She sat up. “A point two? I bled through my blazer. Don’t tell me that’s a measly point two.”
“Admittedly, I’ve seen a lot of gunshot wounds, so my curve may be steeper than most,” Jack said, blotting her shoulder with the blazer. “But the point is, you’re going to be fine.” His throat tightened—he’d seen a lot of things between the FBI and Army Special Forces, but he doubted he’d ever be able to forget the image