Crossing the Line (34 page)

She didn’t quite manage to completely flip him—he was a big guy, after all—but her move landed him on his back. 

Not giving him time to recover, Megan made a beeline for the back door. Unfortunately, he caught up to her before she was able to step outside. 

Jay pulled her kicking and screaming by the ankles back into the main part of the kitchen. She no longer had the element of surprise, so she knew anything she tried he would be anticipating. Megan couldn’t stop fighting, however. It wasn’t in her nature.

Once he got her back near the table, Megan saw what she’d missed before. A knife. It was small, maybe six or seven inches in total. The small metal blade reflected the sunlight, almost as if taunting her.

The wheels began turning in Megan’s head, and she remembered the bits and pieces she’d seen on the news about the serial killer—how the women’s throats and wrists had been cut. 

And then there was what Jay had said before about the other women. 

“You’re him. The serial killer.”

He grinned, and it sent a chill up her spine.

She swallowed. Jay had pulled her arms above her head and held her wrists captive with a single hand. He straddled her waist, putting pressure on her hipbones, making it almost impossible to move. Her only hope was to get him talking. Megan had to either reason with him or get him to drop his guard again. Given he’d killed four women already, she didn’t put much stock in the former, so she was hoping for the latter. 

“Figured that out, did you?” he asked.

He picked up the knife and held it mere inches from her neck. She tried not to move. “I don’t understand. Why? I mean . . . you’re a cop.”

To her dismay, Jay pressed the blade against her throat. He didn’t puncture the skin, but she got the message loud and clear. 

“Sometimes people need to be punished. And if the law won’t do it, then someone has to.” 

Every word coming out of his mouth was making her skin crawl. How could she have missed this side of his personality? Surely there had to have been a sign. Something. 

All she knew was she had to keep him talking. That’s what Rebecca always told her. Even if there was no way to talk the person down, buying time was always the best option. Megan only hoped it was Paul who’d tried to call her and he’d realize something was wrong when she didn’t answer. 

“What did the other women do wrong, then?” Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t help it.

“Ah, ah, ah. No more questions. I promised to make things quick if you didn’t struggle. Now I’m going to have to make you pay.”

She gasped as he ran the knife blade along the width of her neck. It cut into her skin, and a few moments later she felt blood trickling down to stain her shirt. 

He chuckled as she struggled against his hold. She opened her mouth and was surprised she was still able to speak. The cut must not be that deep. He was toying with her. “Please, don’t do this, Jay. Please.”

With the back of his hand, he slapped her across the face. “I said be quiet!”

His eyes were blazing with fury, and Megan knew the end was coming. There was nothing she could do to stop him, and talking only seemed to make it worse.

He ran his nose along the edge of her face. In another circumstance, it would have been rather intimate. As it was, bile rose in Megan’s throat. She closed her eyes and prepared herself to die. 

She yelled out in pain as the knife sliced through one of her wrists.

Paul and Janey drove straight from the library to Rollins’ house. Neither he nor his vehicle was there. Normally, Paul would begin tracking down the suspect’s friends in an attempt to narrow down his whereabouts. That didn’t sit well with him as an option. If he was right, Rollins was their serial killer. He was also a cop, which meant he had advantages above that of the average criminal. 

When Paul was unable to reach Megan, he began to get a sickening feeling in his gut. Megan always answered her phone when he called. He’d known her to climb out of the shower when her phone rang. This wasn’t like her. He wanted to warn her about Rollins. Although Paul knew that wasn’t standard protocol, he didn’t care. Megan had become extremely important to him, and he didn’t know if he’d be able to stand it if something happened to her. 

Especially since it would be all his fault. He’d introduced her to Rollins, after all.

“Do you want me to keep trying?” Janey asked, sensing his worry.

Paul shook his head. “If she hasn’t answered by now, she isn’t going to.”

“You don’t think . . .”

“I don’t know. Do you mind if we—”

“Of course not. Let’s go.”

Turning around in the nearest driveway, Paul worked his way through traffic as quickly as he could to get to his neighborhood. Rollins only lived about ten minutes from Paul’s house. Paul made it there in six.

The minute they turned onto Paul’s street, they spotted Rollins’ car. It wasn’t parked in front of the house, but it was well within easy walking distance. Any optimism Paul had felt before went out the window. If Megan was hurt . . . 

He didn’t even want to think of the other possibility.

Paul pulled up along the curb. He jumped out, not bothering to turn off the engine, and sprinted toward the house. 

He was almost to the garage when he heard Megan scream. If there’d been any doubt Rollins was inside the house before then, it was entirely gone. Releasing his gun from its holster, Paul raced toward the back of the house where he’d heard her scream originate. 

Janey was hot on his heels. He knew she’d heard Megan as well. 

The scene that greeted them when they burst through the back door turned his stomach. Megan was laid out on the floor with Rollins on top of her. There was blood coming from her wrist, and from her neck. 

Without thinking, Paul launched himself across the room, and knocked Rollins back. They both went tumbling and hit the tile floor hard. Paul’s gun went flying, but that was the least of his worries. Rollins recovered quickly from the unexpected hit, and Paul felt something sharp puncture his leg. Without seeing what it was, he knew it had to be whatever Rollins had used on Megan and the other women he’d killed. 

The struggle seemed to last forever, but in reality it was probably only a few minutes. Rollins was younger, and stronger, but Paul was driven by rage. He hadn’t been able to take out his anger on the drunk driver who’d killed Melissa, but Rollins was there in the flesh in front of him. 

Somewhere along the line, Rollins wiggled his way free, and Paul had to tackle him again. They ended up in the hallway, rolling around on the floor grasping for the knife. Rollins managed to get the blade between them, and Paul used all the strength he had to kick Rollins away. If he was able to stab something vital, Paul knew it would be all over for him. 

Rollins hit the wall, jarring the knife from his hand. 

Paul went for it. So did Rollins.

One minute they were fighting over the knife, and then the next, Rollins gasped and went limp. Paul pushed him away, and saw the blade of the knife sticking out of Rollins chest. 

Before he could check to see if Rollins was still alive, Janey yelled from the other room. “Paul, you need to get in here.”

Scrambling to his feet, Paul ran back into the kitchen. Janey was sitting at Megan’s head with a kitchen towel wrapped tight around her wrist.

“I called for backup and an ambulance. She’s losing a lot of blood. He only got one wrist, but it’s deep and right along the vein,” Janey said.

Paul lifted Megan onto his lap, and took over holding her wrist above her head to slow down the blood loss while Janey went out to meet the paramedics. 

The cut along her neck didn’t look deep. He wasn’t a doctor, but he could tell there wasn’t any immediate danger there. Her wrist, however, was another matter. The towel was drenched in blood, and if they didn’t get it to stop soon, Megan would die.

He brushed his lips along her hairline. Megan was pale, and her eyes were closed. “Hold on, all right? You’re going to be okay.”

A minute later, Janey clamored back through the door followed by two paramedics. He knew he should move out of the way and allow them to do their job, but he couldn’t let Megan go.

Janey put a hand on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “It’s okay, Paul. Let them do their job. They’ll take care of her.”

Reluctantly, he surrendered her to the paramedics, and let them load her onto a stretcher. 

“I’m going with her,” he said to no one in particular.

Janey answered him. “Go. I’ll take care of things here, and keep you informed.”

Paul was grateful the paramedics didn’t give him a hard time about riding in the ambulance with Megan. He and Megan weren’t family—not in the way that would normally make any difference to medical personnel. Whether it was because he was a cop, or because they knew him, he couldn’t say, but either way he would owe them. Letting Megan out of his sight wasn’t an option. 

The ambulance ride was short. On the way to the hospital, they’d been able to stop most of the bleeding at her wrist. They’d cleaned up the cut on her neck as well. It would need to be bandaged, but Paul thought it would eventually heal completely. He didn’t even think there would be a scar. 

When they arrived at the ER, it was a slightly different story. At first, they weren’t going to allow him to go with her, but the paramedic said something to the nurse and she waved Paul back.

He stood off to the side while the nurses worked to hook Megan up to all the necessary monitors. It was almost comforting when he saw her steady heartbeat on the screen. 

They gave her an IV and took a sample of her blood. Everything happened extremely fast. 

As the nurses were finishing up, a doctor appeared and began taking stock of her injuries. He asked Paul a few questions, and he answered them. At least, he thought he did. There was only one other time in his life when he’d felt this helpless. He’d hoped he’d never feel that way again, but here he was.

Before the doctor finished bandaging up her wrist, a nurse he’d seen before reentered the room, this time with a pint of blood. She hung it behind Megan’s hospital bed and attached it to the IV tubes already in the uninjured arm. 

The doctor turned to Paul. “She’s lost at least a couple pints of blood, so we’re giving her some O negative until we get the test results back on her blood type.”

“Will she be all right?” Megan still hadn’t regained consciousness, but her heartbeat was steady. He knew that was a good sign, but Paul needed reassurance.

“She’s stable, and after we get some blood back into her system, she should wake up. After that, we’ll have a better gauge of her condition.”

Paul nodded.

“Is there someone you can call for her? Family?”

He blinked several times, staring at the doctor as if he were speaking a foreign language.

“Mr. Daniels?”

The doctor clearly thought Paul was losing his mind. Maybe he was. “Yeah. Her sister. I-I’ll call her as soon as she wakes up.”

“Mr. Daniels, we really like to have . . .”

Paul looked the doctor in the eye and lowered his voice. “I’m not leaving her side until she wakes up.”

Sighing, the doctor lowered his gaze to Paul’s leg. “We should probably take a look at that.”

He looked down at the dark stain on his pants. Paul had completely forgotten about being stabbed. “I’m fine.”

The doctor ignored him and waved one of the nurses over.

The wound wasn’t deep and it was clean. They disinfected and cleaned the area, and the doctor sewed him up with five stitches before he backed out of the room. The nurse finished bandaging Paul up and then left him alone with Megan. 

He scooted his chair closer and took hold of her hand. It was tricky with the IV and all the other tubes, but he worked around them. Paul needed to touch her. He needed that connection. 

“I’m so sorry, Megan. I would never have introduced the two of you if I . . . if I . . .” A sob caught in his throat. He’d warned her that he feared he’d mess up again—that he didn’t deserve her. 

Paul rested his head beside her on the mattress, stroking her fingers. He would make sure she was okay and then send her back to Nashville with her sister. It was the only way. The only way to keep her safe. 

He didn’t know how he’d make it no longer having her in his life, but he didn’t have a choice. There was no way he could lose her like he had Melissa. He’d rather she lived a long and happy life without him than have her life end prematurely. Rebecca would help Megan move on and see that she was taken care of. 

It was the only way.

Chapter 27

Megan’s head was pounding. There was also this buzzing sound that wouldn’t seem to go away. Her arm felt unusually heavy, and it ached.

She tried to lift it, but a hand stopped her. 

“You need to lie still.” The voice was firm, yet gentle—and one Megan recognized immediately.

“Paul?”

He squeezed the fingers of her other hand. “I’m right here.”

“My arm . . .”

“Is it hurting you? I can ask them to get you some medicine.” There was something in Paul’s voice she didn’t understand.