Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,89

me!” Troy yelled. “I didn’t kill Melissa! It was him! Him! Shoot him!” Troy had one arm around Victoria’s neck. The other was around her waist. Was he trying to use her as a human shield or—­

“Don’t listen to North! Shoot him!” Matthew yelled as he lunged to his feet. “He’s the killer! He’s going to kill her!”

“Let me go,” Victoria said at the same time, her voice low and hard. “Wade has the gun. Let me go.” They all needed to calm the hell down. Fast. Before this scene went too far.

But Troy didn’t let her go. He took another step back, pulling her with him. He seemed to be pulling her toward his desk.

“Walker, stay the hell back,” Wade snapped out. “Get your ass under control!”

“It has to be him!” Matthew yelled right back. “He knew—­he knew how I felt about her! He saw us ­together—­I picked her up for lunch one day, right here. I kissed her and he opened the door. Freaking smug bastard . . . smiling the whole time! He took Melissa! He wanted her and he took her!”

Troy wasn’t saying anything. But . . . he took his arm away from her neck. He was just holding Victoria now by the waist. His grip was so tight.

“Victoria.” Wade’s voice was clear in the storm around them. “It’s okay.”

How was this okay?

“Let her go, Dr. North. Now.” Wade was advancing on her and Troy. One step. Another.

And Troy was—­reaching for his desk. For the top drawer. He could almost touch it.

What was in the drawer?

“He won’t do this to me,” Troy said, his words a frantic whisper. “I won’t let him. I won’t let him!”

Matthew was inching toward Wade once again.

Wade—­with Matthew at his back and Troy in front of him. His attention was too divided. This couldn’t work. Wade was too focused on her. Helping her.

When danger was all around him . . .

“No,” Victoria said, voice fierce. “Stop him, Wade! Behind you. Stop him.”

Wade whirled. Matthew had grabbed a letter opener off Melissa’s desk. He was screaming and rushing forward.

Wade fired the gun. The boom of the shot seemed deafening, and Victoria felt Troy jerk behind her. She seized that moment. He was so intent on the drawer—­so shocked by the thundering gunfire—­she drove her elbow back into his side as hard as she could.

He let her go. She lunged forward, her momentum sending her falling to the floor as she stumbled.

“Drop it!” Wade roared.

She looked back.

Troy had fully opened the desk drawer. And he’d taken out the weapon inside. A gun. One that he now held with shaking fingers.

“Have to protect . . .” Troy muttered. “Won’t let him do this . . . I won’t!”

And Matthew was still on his feet, just a small distance away. His shoulder was bleeding and the letter opener had fallen from his fingers.

She glanced back and forth between Matthew and Troy, her eyes wide.

“Put it down,” Wade ordered.

Matthew smiled. Smiled as he stared down Troy’s gun barrel.

Then, with no weapon in his hand, with blood pouring from his shoulder wound, Matthew surged into Troy’s office.

“Victoria, stay down!” Wade roared.

Troy fired.

So did Wade.

The blasts happened so close together—­the retort just seemed like one big explosion.

Her ears rang and she shook her head. She crawled back—­

Wade grabbed her hand. He pulled her up, holding her close to his side. His right hand still gripped the gun. A gun that was trained on Troy.

Troy was on his feet, but blood bloomed on his chest. The gun trembled in his hand and he seemed to be struggling to raise the weapon once more.

“Drop it,” Wade ordered. “Drop the damn thing now!”

“Shoot him!” Matthew yelled at the same instant. “He’s crazy! He’ll kill us all—­shoot him!”

Troy’s gaze jerked to Matthew. Rage and pain burned in his eyes, and he swung the weapon toward Matthew. Victoria had no doubt in her mind . . . he was going to kill Matthew Walker.

“Drop it!” Wade roared again. He hadn’t shot to kill before. Victoria knew he was a good marksman. If he wanted Troy stopped . . .

Troy smiled as he lifted his gun.

“Shoot him!” Matthew screamed. “Help me, help—­”

Troy’s shaking fingers were tightening around the trigger.

But Wade fired before the psychology professor could. The bullet blasted right into Troy’s chest this time. He stumbled back, ramming into the wall. His hand seemed to spasm around the gun and the bullet erupted, flying through the air to slam into the wall