Page 77 of Shadow Justice

Allen glared. “I honored her.”

Holly moved. It was small, barely more than a shift against the couch, but Reid saw it, and the relief nearly took his legs out from under him. Blue whined and pressed closer, licking her cheek again. Holly’s eyelids fluttered. Her hand moved weakly against the cushion.

Allen looked down.

Holly drew in a thin breath and opened her eyes halfway. She seemed to fight her way through confusion, pain, and the sight of Allen standing over her with a gun. Her gaze found the cup and napkin, then Hopper in the doorway, then Reid.

“Reid,” she whispered.

“I’m here. Everything is going to be okay.”

She glanced up at Allen. “You murdered innocent people.”

Allen’s attention dropped fully to her, offense and sorrow twisting together across his face. “You just don’t understand.”

Reid dove at him. He hit Allen’s gun arm upward, propelled him backward, and slammed his wrist against the wall. The gun jarred loose, hit the floor, and skidded toward the kitchen.

Blue launched himself with a furious snarl and latched onto Allen’s lower leg.

Allen shouted and buckled. Hopper kicked the gun away, sending it under the breakfast bar, then moved to block Holly with his body. Reid wrenched Allen down, driving him onto his stomach.

Allen fought with more strength than Reid expected, twisting, grabbing for Reid’s shirt, trying to hook a knee beneath him. Reid pinned him with one forearm across the shoulders and trapped his wrist high between his shoulder blades.

Blue shook his head, drawing a cry of pain from Allen.

“Blue, back,” Reid snapped.

Blue released only after Hopper caught his collar and hauled him away from Allen’s legs. The dog strained against Hopper’s grip, barking so hard his whole body shook.

“Keep him back,” Reid said.

“I’ve got him,” Hopper answered, though his voice sounded like gravel scraped raw.

Allen breathed hard, cheek pinned to the floor, anger finally stripped of polish. “Your grandfather caused this—all of this. He let Calvin Dodge walk out of that courtroom, and every one of those jurors carried that verdict like it meant nothing.”

“My grandfather followed the law,” Reid said, tightening his grip when Allen tried to jerk free.

“The law failed.”

“You failed Emma when you made her death about your righteousness.”

Allen went rigid beneath him.

Holly pushed herself up on one elbow. The movement made her sway, and Reid almost let go of Allen to reach for her. He forced himself to hold his position.

“Don’t sit up,” Reid said to her.

She ignored him. Her face had gone pale beneath the blood at her temple, but her eyes stayed on Allen.

“You were one of the people who made me believe Sanctuary could be safe,” she said barely above a whisper.

Allen turned his head enough to look at her. For the first time since Reid had come through the door, his certainty cracked around the edges. “I tried to make it worthy of the name.”

“You turned it into a hunting ground.”

“No.” Allen’s voice roughened. “I gave them a chance to confess what they’d done. None of them understood.”

“They were jurors,” Reid said. “They heard the case put in front of them.”