Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,108

you?” Flynn whispered to him. “Bet you didn’t even see me pull it from my boot. Fatal mistake, letting that rage take over.” He twisted the blade. “Now you’re going to die, that fool hero wanna-­be on the ground will die, and Victoria—­”

He broke off, choking. Gasping.

Wade wrenched his body away from Flynn, feeling the slide of the blade as it cut him on its damn way out. He staggered back and blood pumped from him. Then he braced his body, ready to attack that bastard again.

But Flynn stumbled forward. The knife fell to the ground as he lifted his hands and swatted at his back. He made a drunken circle as he tried to look behind him . . .

Victoria was behind him. Standing there, with her hands still up.

And when Wade saw Flynn’s back, he realized just why the other man had stopped his attack. Victoria had driven a knife into Flynn’s back, one that was buried hilt-­deep.

“I never slept when we were together,” Victoria rasped out. “You didn’t matter enough for me to stay. So I know I didn’t talk to you.”

She’d had nightmares—­she’d spoken in her sleep to him, Wade thought. Not to you, asshole.

“You bugged my place, didn’t you?” Victoria continued. Red had streamed down her shirtfront, a red that terrified him when she stepped forward into the faint light cast from the club. But her voice grew stronger with every word. “That’s how you knew my secrets. You’ve been watching me all this time, stalking me, and I didn’t know it.”

Wade wrenched forward and grabbed the knife that Flynn had dropped. The bastard was still alive, and that meant he was still a threat.

“You don’t know me,” Victoria said as Flynn fell to his knees before her. “You know nothing . . .”

Flynn was still trying to swat at his back in a vain effort to pull out that knife.

A groan came from Wade’s right. He looked over to see Asher rising—­a bit wobbly—­to his feet. “Told you . . .” Asher muttered. “Got your . . . back . . . for now on . . . Said you could . . . count on me.”

Asher Young had sure as hell been a man of his word.

Wade ignored the burning pain in his belly and closed in on Flynn. He put the knife to the asshole’s throat.

Flynn’s hand dropped. His head tilted back as he stared up at Wade.

Wade’s fingers were trembling. He’d never wanted to take another man’s life more . . . Never wanted to yank that knife so hard and cut so deep . . .

“Do it,” Flynn taunted, breath heaving out. “Show her . . . who you . . . are . . .”

His hold tightened on the knife. This freak had wanted to kidnap Victoria. He would have hurt her, again and again, and then, when he was done . . . he would have killed her.

“How many others?” Wade demanded.

Flynn’s eyes closed. “Just one. Melissa . . . she was fun. Buddy of mine introduced me . . .” He swayed. “But she was no . . . Viki . . . So dark and twisted up inside . . . perfect out, evil in . . . made for me . . .”

“No, she wasn’t.” The SOB truly knew nothing about Victoria.

“We should call the police,” Victoria said. “Get help . . . an ambulance . . .”

Wade pulled the knife away from Flynn’s throat. “They’re going to . . . lock you up. If there are more missing, we’ll . . . find them. You’ll . . . never be free.”

“Neither will she . . .” Flynn gave a gruff laugh. “I’ll make sure . . . neither . . . will . . . she . . .”

And he lunged up. He came at Wade with a desperate heave of strength.

Wade didn’t hesitate. The knife went straight into Flynn’s chest. Slid in like cutting into butter . . .

Flynn’s eyes were open and . . . satisfied.

“Now . . . she sees,” he whispered.

Someone screamed. Wade’s head snapped to the right and he saw that—­finally—­someone else had come into the alley. A woman and man stood there. The woman screamed again—­even louder as Flynn’s body fell to the ground.

“Call the police!” Wade shouted. He took a step, wanting to get to Victoria, needing to help her—­and Asher. “Call—­”

He fell. Why had he fallen?

Wade tried to get up, but his hands weren’t working right.