Page 171 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

"A suicide note might fool the police," I continued. "It won’t fool the mating bond."

Lia’s face stayed blank. Naomi looked a fraction less sure.

"He won’t know where you are," Lia said.

"Probably not," I agreed. My gaze settled on her. "But he’ll know I didn’t leave him voluntary."

Something flickered across her eyes. Just for a second. Then it was gone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lia said. “We’re still going through with it.”

She turned to Naomi. “Untie her right hand.”

Naomi hesitated. "Seriously?"

"Just do it." She raised the gun again and pointed it at my chest. "Don’t try anything stupid. One bullet is all it takes."

Naomi muttered under her breath and moved behind me. Her claws dug into my wrists as she grabbed them, sharp enough to draw blood.

"I can’t free just one hand," she growled. "You zip-tied them together."

Lia sighed, irritated. "Then cut them loose and tie one back up after."

Naomi pulled out a knife. I stayed perfectly still, heart pounding, mind racing. I had one shot at this. But not yet. Timing was everything.

"What’s in this for you, Naomi?" I asked as the blade sawed through the plastic.

“Thomas is going to make Jackson take me as his mate,” she said. “I’ll be the future Luna.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure your psycho friend has other plans for that spot.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lia hissed. “Naomi, she’s just trying to distract you. Ignore her.”

I exhaled slowly, already tired of the whole damn circus.

Then everything exploded at once.

The warehouse door slammed open with a deafening crash.

I threw my weight sideways, tipping the chair hard. Naomi lurched forward, still gripping my arms. A gunshot cracked through the air. White-hot pain tore through my right shoulder. I barely registered the spray of blood on my neck before I hit the concrete, the impact knocking the breath out of me.

“Harper!” Jackson’s panicked voice roared through the chaos.

A second later strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me slightly. My legs were still bound to the damn chair. Clawed fingers made quick work of the restraints before I was pulled into Jackson’s lap, him cradling me as if I might disappear.

A strangled gurgle caught my attention.

Naomi was on her knees, both hands clawing at her throat, blood pulsing thick between her fingers. The same bullet that had grazed my shoulder had found her neck. Carotid. Nothing was stopping that.

Her mouth opened and closed, a silent, desperate plea, before her knees buckled.

Jackson held me tighter, rocking me, his voice a desperate chant against my temple.

“Thank fuck. Thank fuck. Thank fuck.”

A few feet away, Jason dropped to his knees beside Naomi, pressing down on the wound with both hands, but it was useless. The blood wouldn’t stop. Her eyes went glassy, her hands twitching before falling limp at her sides.

Lia screeched from the floor. “Get your hands off me!”