Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [195]
Shay arched her back. Fingers clawed Jules’s scalp, twisting her hair, and pulling up, stretching Jules’s neck. Shay’s free hand became a weapon. Fingers glued tightly together and stiff, as if she intended to give Jules a karate chop to her exposed throat!
“God, I hate you!” Shay said, raising her hand, taking aim.
Jules couldn’t move.
She watched in horror as Shay swung down.
Instantly, she let go of Shay’s leg and threw up a hand to deflect the blow.
Too late!
Shay’s hand sliced against her throat.
Jules went limp. Coughed. Blinked as the world spun. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Blackness closed in around her as Shay stripped her fingers from Jules’s hair and, breathing hard, rolled away. “Die, you miserable bitch,” she said as Jules dragged in a breath with difficulty, one hand at her throat, the other on the floor where the towel still stretched across the floor. “I talked to Wolf. He’s going to help me. All I have to do is jack one of the snowmobiles that Nell told me about and I’m home free.” She reached into her pocket and showed off the keys, letting them dangle from her fingers as Jules tried desperately to drag in a breath. Shay’s eyes glowed triumphantly. “I took these from that bitch Missy when I cuffed her. Things are gonna be different now. You’ll see!”
She straightened, satisfied that her job was done, then, as Jules watched helplessly, snagged her backpack from the corner of the desk and started for the door.
Jules’s fingers tightened on the towel as she gasped for breath.
Shay didn’t notice. She had to step over Jules before she got there, and she couldn’t resist. Standing with one foot on the damned towel, she aimed the toe of her other boot so that it would smash into Jules’s face.
“If you can find your voice, say ‘hello’ to Rip for me,” Shay taunted with a nasty laugh and swung her leg backward.
Closing her eyes, Jules yanked hard on the towel.
With all her strength, throwing her weight backward, she pulled, dragging the soggy terry cloth toward her.
Shay teetered. Her mask of hatred gave way to surprise. “Shit!” Flailing, arms finding nothing to grab onto, Shay lost her balance and fell, hitting the floor hard, her backpack flying.
More footsteps on the other side of the door!
Shay landed. Hard!
“Help!” Jules tried to cry, but had no voice.
The door banged open.
“Hold it right there!” a male voice commanded.
From the floor, Shay, looking over Jules’s shoulder, scrambled to her feet, not ready to give up. Her teeth were bared, her lips pulled back into an awful grimace.
Trent threw himself into the room. He tackled Shay. She went down again! Jules scooted away, trembling, the demons of the past becoming the present, morphing into one body, that of her little sister.
“Let go of me!” Shay was kicking wildly, trying to roll away as Trent pinned her down.
“Not on your life.” His body was stretched over hers, his hands trying to grab her wrists. But she was quick and determined, fists flying, booted feet striking out!
“Bastard!” she cried.
He caught one wrist and she bucked up, trying to kick him.
“Get off of me or I’ll scream rape!”
He grabbed her second wrist. She spat upward, spittle hitting him between the eyes.
He growled, “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Cocksucker! No good fucking cowboy!” she raged and Jules curdled inside. This shrieking, struggling psycho was her sister?
“You okay?” Trent asked, looking over his shoulder as Shay fought and snarled, beneath him.
Jules could only nod. Of course she wasn’t okay. She never would be. Spying her sister like this was killing her.
“Stop! Now!” Father Jake, weapon drawn, strode into the room. “Let her go!” he ordered, pistol trained on Shaylee.
Trent, looking as if he were making the worst mistake of his life, breathed hard and rolled away from Jules’s sister. “Careful,” he warned the preacher as he swiped a sleeve over his face.
“I will be.” Father Jake’s eyes were steady, his face set as he hauled Shaylee to her feet, then forced