Sworn To Protect

Just like he had commanded. Everything in her focused on keeping the baby alive.

“That’s better. You wouldn’t want the baby to get hurt in the scuffle,” he growled, yanking her away from the office. Several nurses were racing toward them, one of them yelling into a cell phone. A doctor barreled around the corner, eyes wide with shock as she saw what the commotion was about.

“Everyone just stay cool,” Martin said, the gun still pressed into Katie’s abdomen. “I’m not here to hurt anyone. I’m just here for my wife.”

She stiffened at the word but was too afraid to argue.

“I’ve called the police,” the nurse with the cell phone said. “They’ll be here any minute.”

“Good for them,” Martin responded. “Everyone get out of our way.” He pushed open the stairwell door and dragged Katie down two flights of steps. She was stumbling, trying to keep her feet under her, terrified that she’d fall and hurt the baby, that the gun would go off, that he’d get her outside and take her wherever he intended.

“Stop.” She gasped, panicking as they rushed into the lobby on the lower level of the building. “I can’t breathe.”

“You’re breathing just fine, my love,” he murmured, smiling tenderly into her face as he pressed the gun more deeply into her stomach.

“Martin, really. I can’t.”

There were people all around, shocked, afraid. Watching but not intervening, and she couldn’t blame them. Martin was armed and obviously dangerous, his eyes gleaming with the fire of his delusions.

“Hey! You! Let her go!” A security guard raced toward them. No gun. Nothing but a radio and a desire to help.

Martin moved the gun, and Katie had seconds to shove him sideways, to try to ruin his aim, save the guard and free herself.

The bullet slammed into the wall, and a woman shrieked.

For a split second, Katie was free, running back to the stairwell, clawing at the doorknob, trying to get back up the stairs and away from Martin.

He grabbed her jacket and dragged her backward, nearly unbalancing her. She felt the barrel of the gun against the side of her neck.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Katie,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She froze again.

“That’s my girl. Now, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand, the gun slipping away from her neck, and dragged her outside.

Tony Knight had been a police officer for enough years to know how to stay calm in the most challenging of circumstances.

The current situation demanded every bit of the discipline he had learned during his years on the force.

He watched as Martin Fisher dragged Katie across the crowded parking lot. She wasn’t fighting or protesting, and Tony couldn’t blame her. Martin was swinging the firearm in the direction of anyone who dared to call for him to stop.

Katie had to be terrified.

Katie.

His best friend’s widow.

The word still made his chest tight and his jaw clench. Jordan should be alive, getting ready to celebrate the birth of his first child.

Martin Fisher was responsible for his death.

That was reason enough to take him down.

But, Tony came from a long line of police officers. He believed in the criminal justice system. He believed in due process and trial by jury. He did not believe in vigilantism. To get Katie safely away from Martin, Tony would use whatever force was required. But, he also didn’t believe in risking the lives of innocent civilians—Katie and the big crowd watching. The moment Tony pulled the trigger, so would Martin—with the gun pointed at Katie’s heart.

Tony also didn’t like the idea of firing his weapon when he was aiming at a target so close to Katie.

“Let her go, Martin,” he called, his service weapon aimed at the killer’s head, his police dog, Rusty, by his side. The chocolate-colored Lab growled quietly. Trained in search and rescue, he had a powerful build and split-second reaction time. If asked to, he’d go after the perp and attempt to take him down.

Tony didn’t want to ask him to. Martin would shoot Rusty and have the gun aimed back at Katie in a heartbeat.

“Or what?” Martin asked, his yellow-green eyes focused on Tony.

“I don’t think you want to find out,” Tony responded, trying to keep him talking and buy some time. Backup was on the way. A 911 call had been placed moments before he had arrived at the medical center. He had been running his regular patrol route through Queens, detouring past the four-story brick building every few minutes. Worried, because he knew that none of Jordan’s brothers had been available to accompany Katie to her appointment.

“You’re a big talker, Knight,” Martin snapped, yanking Katie backward. Of course, he knew Tony’s name. He was obsessed with everyone and everything that had anything to do with Katie’s life.

“I’m also big on action. Let her go.”

Martin scowled. He was moving Katie to the edge of the paved lot. A few feet of lush grass separated the medical clinic’s property from the edge of Forest Park. Tall oak trees marked the eastern edge of the public area.

“But, you won’t risk Katie’s or the baby’s life,” Martin said. “For the sake of your buddy Jordan, if nothing else.”

He was right.

Tony couldn’t take a chance. He was confident in his ability to hit his mark, but if Katie moved, if Martin yanked her at just the wrong moment, she or the baby could be injured.

Or, worse.

He couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Put your gun down, Martin. Let her go. We’ll get you the help you need.”

“I don’t need help. I need my family.” He pulled Katie into his chest, pressing the gun against her side. The barrel was hidden by the soft swell of her abdomen, but Tony could see her face, her blue eyes and her blond ponytail snaking over her shoulder.

“Please, Martin,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just let me go. We can talk things out after you’ve gotten treatment.”

“Treatment for what?” Martin asked coldly, his eyes blazing hot in his impassive face.

He was delusional and dangerous, and he was stepping into the grass, dragging Katie with him.

Tony needed to stop him before he made it into the park.

“You were in the hospital,” Tony pointed out, stepping closer, his gun dropping to his side. He wanted Martin to be off guard and vulnerable, unprepared for what was going to happen. “And, from what I heard, you were doing well there.”

He hadn’t actually heard much, but Martin would do just fine locked up in a mental health facility for the remainder of his life.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. Or, the opinion of anyone else,” Martin snapped, but the gun had fallen away from Katie’s side, and he was glancing back, eyeing the sparse growth of oaks that heralded the beginning of parkland.