Page 157 of D for Dead

He flicked the knife down, ripping open the neckline of her T-shirt to her bra, grinning when she sucked in a breath.

Don’t react. He wants you to show fear.

‘You won’t get away with it. They’ll figure it out.’

The sound of footsteps on the staircase had them both looking at the door.

Troy entered, sounding out of breath.

‘He’s gone.’

Amy’s heartbeat quickened. Was he talking about Boaz? ‘What the fuck do you mean, he’s gone?’ Rivers snapped, slamming the knife to the floor in a rage. ‘I thought you said he was dead.’

‘I thought he was. He wasn’t breathing.’

‘For fuck’s sake, Troy.’

‘He can’t have gotten far. We’ll find him.’

Shaking his head, Rivers followed Troy to the door. Before he disappeared he turned back to Amy, twisting his lips. ‘Don’t go anywhere.’

* * *

Hidden in the safety of the bushes, Vic had watched Troy go back into the house.

He had no idea where the hell he was, knew only he had woken in a van, pain shooting through his belly and his mouth drier than the Sahara.

He had groaned, tried to move his head, was hit by a bout of dizziness and had to wait a couple of minutes before trying again to sit up. There was blood all sticky over his shirt and then he had remembered – being in the parking lot at the church, Troy Cunningham attacking him with a knife.

And Amy. Where the fuck was Amy? She had been inside with Pastor Ralph. Was she still at the church or had she left and been attacked too? It made no sense for Troy to just attack Vic. Amy was the one he was protecting. She was the one most likely to be in danger.

Where was she?

He had felt for his sidearm, unsurprised to find his holster empty, and grimacing in pain, forced his hand down to his ankle, felt for the second smaller gun he kept as backup, relieved when his fingers touched metal. Fucker hadn’t thought to check for a backup weapon.

Grumbling and swearing at the pain, angry at being caught out and taken for a fool and not wanting to admit he was a little bit scared right now, he had pushed himself out of the van, sucking in the scream as he hit against the ground. He wheezed out a breath, took a moment to overcome the wave of nausea and looked around before forcing himself to crawl for the safety of the bushes. From there he had watched Troy come out of the house and go to the van. Heard him curse when he found it empty. A couple of minutes passed before he headed back inside and Vic let go of the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He bit down on the pain as he forced himself to his feet.

It was time to find out where the hell Amy was.

* * *

Amy waited for several long, agonising minutes, her arms aching and her face pounding where Rivers had hit her. She was desperate to know if Boaz was okay, hoping against hope he was and had managed to get help. She knew it was a long shot. He had bled pretty bad and been unconscious for a long time.

The metal dug into her wrists and she knew there was no way to escape this time. Boaz was her only hope.

Eventually she heard the sound of footsteps, her heart sinking when Troy entered the room. He looked mad as hell and she tried to shrink away as he approached.

He skimmed his fingers down her face, into her hair and Amy jerked back as he caught hold of a handful of her hair, forcing her forward and pressing his mouth hard against hers.

No.

In a gut reaction she brought up her knee, caught him sharp in the balls. He groaned, falling back, took a moment to recover, cursing and swearing at her. Managing to get himself upright, he pulled out a pocket knife, flicked open the blade, and took a step towards her.

* * *

Jake stepped into the basement room, saw Amy chained up and Troy heading towards her, the glint of a blade in his hand, and his heart almost stopped.

‘Stop where you are. Put the knife down, Troy.’