Read Online Her Risk To Take by Toni Anderson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Toni Anderson
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to keep others safe hadn’t seemed any more reasonable when she’d tried it.
* * *
Spencer Reilly peeled off on the top floor of the building and ran into the pediatric ward, locking the door behind him. She heard him shouting instructions to the people inside. Henriksson was panting heavily in their wake.
“I want my wife back, you lying bitch!” he screamed at her.
Great . The slurred words suggested he’d used the morning to refuel his anger with whiskey.
An armed, drunk, wife-beater at Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
She hit the roof level and said a huge “thank you” to the man upstairs when the door opened easily. She slammed it shut and used the master key to lock it behind her. She needed to buy enough time to get down the fire escape. Hopefully local cops would be in the stairwell making their way up. If they could trap the man there, maybe they could talk him down and no one would get hurt. She ran over to the metal ladder and peered down the five stories, swaying slightly as vertigo hit her. Heights were not her thing.
No time to think. Even over the wind she heard Henriksson pounding on the door. She swung her leg over onto the fire escape and gripped the frigid metal with both hands. The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire had her shaking in fear. As fast as she dared, she descended, rust staining her hands orange as the wind whipped up her dress. She shook from cold and fear, her grip getting weaker as she moved as quickly as she could, desperate for the relative safety of the first landing. Suddenly she was looking along the barrel of a rifle, followed by the angry face of Henry Henriksson as he stared over the parapet.
“Get your ass back up here, bitch, or I’ll shoot you where you are.” His fingers tightened on the trigger and Sarah knew, if she wanted to live, she had to stop running. Dammit . She swallowed and nodded. The chance of making it out of this situation alive had just plummeted.
* * *
Cal sprinted in the other direction with Nat on his heels. The local cops were concentrating on the front of the building and people were pouring out, white-faced with fear. The police didn’t have enough manpower to search the entire hospital, control the crowd, segregate potential bad guys, targets, and innocent bystanders. Trying to locate one doctor in this crazy melee would not be their priority. But it was his. He jumped a low wall and smashed through the shrubbery, slamming to a stop with his arm across Nat’s chest as a flash of color high above them caught his eye. Cal’s brain felt as if someone had plugged him into the mains as he watched a man grab a small blonde figure in a red dress and haul her back onto the roof.
“What was Sarah wearing when she left for work this morning?” he asked.
Nat’s mouth was a stern line. “A red dress. Let’s go.”
As soon as the sonofabitch with the rifle moved away from the wall, Cal ran to the fire escape, leaped the first eight feet to the first rung, and hauled himself up, then started climbing fast. The ladder was noisy, but Cal hoped the wind whipped the sound away. After a few more rungs, he toed off his boots. Nat swore as one hit him, but Cal was able to move with much more stealth in his socks. The ladder squeaked slightly but didn’t groan as he raced up the metal skeleton. When he got to the top, he glanced around but didn’t see any sign of the attacker. He jumped over the ledge and waited for Nat to join him. Nat’s bare feet should have made him smile, but he was too numb inside. He grabbed Nat’s arm, pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear.
The guy needed to know the truth before they got into this. “My stepbrother, Terry, threatened Sarah yesterday. That’s why I pushed her away and told her I didn’t love her. He was standing right behind her at the time.” He’d never forgive himself if Sarah was hurt.
Nat’s eyes flashed. “Terry is an asshole, but this
* * *
Spencer Reilly peeled off on the top floor of the building and ran into the pediatric ward, locking the door behind him. She heard him shouting instructions to the people inside. Henriksson was panting heavily in their wake.
“I want my wife back, you lying bitch!” he screamed at her.
Great . The slurred words suggested he’d used the morning to refuel his anger with whiskey.
An armed, drunk, wife-beater at Christmas. What could possibly go wrong?
She hit the roof level and said a huge “thank you” to the man upstairs when the door opened easily. She slammed it shut and used the master key to lock it behind her. She needed to buy enough time to get down the fire escape. Hopefully local cops would be in the stairwell making their way up. If they could trap the man there, maybe they could talk him down and no one would get hurt. She ran over to the metal ladder and peered down the five stories, swaying slightly as vertigo hit her. Heights were not her thing.
No time to think. Even over the wind she heard Henriksson pounding on the door. She swung her leg over onto the fire escape and gripped the frigid metal with both hands. The rat-tat-tat of automatic gunfire had her shaking in fear. As fast as she dared, she descended, rust staining her hands orange as the wind whipped up her dress. She shook from cold and fear, her grip getting weaker as she moved as quickly as she could, desperate for the relative safety of the first landing. Suddenly she was looking along the barrel of a rifle, followed by the angry face of Henry Henriksson as he stared over the parapet.
“Get your ass back up here, bitch, or I’ll shoot you where you are.” His fingers tightened on the trigger and Sarah knew, if she wanted to live, she had to stop running. Dammit . She swallowed and nodded. The chance of making it out of this situation alive had just plummeted.
* * *
Cal sprinted in the other direction with Nat on his heels. The local cops were concentrating on the front of the building and people were pouring out, white-faced with fear. The police didn’t have enough manpower to search the entire hospital, control the crowd, segregate potential bad guys, targets, and innocent bystanders. Trying to locate one doctor in this crazy melee would not be their priority. But it was his. He jumped a low wall and smashed through the shrubbery, slamming to a stop with his arm across Nat’s chest as a flash of color high above them caught his eye. Cal’s brain felt as if someone had plugged him into the mains as he watched a man grab a small blonde figure in a red dress and haul her back onto the roof.
“What was Sarah wearing when she left for work this morning?” he asked.
Nat’s mouth was a stern line. “A red dress. Let’s go.”
As soon as the sonofabitch with the rifle moved away from the wall, Cal ran to the fire escape, leaped the first eight feet to the first rung, and hauled himself up, then started climbing fast. The ladder was noisy, but Cal hoped the wind whipped the sound away. After a few more rungs, he toed off his boots. Nat swore as one hit him, but Cal was able to move with much more stealth in his socks. The ladder squeaked slightly but didn’t groan as he raced up the metal skeleton. When he got to the top, he glanced around but didn’t see any sign of the attacker. He jumped over the ledge and waited for Nat to join him. Nat’s bare feet should have made him smile, but he was too numb inside. He grabbed Nat’s arm, pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear.
The guy needed to know the truth before they got into this. “My stepbrother, Terry, threatened Sarah yesterday. That’s why I pushed her away and told her I didn’t love her. He was standing right behind her at the time.” He’d never forgive himself if Sarah was hurt.
Nat’s eyes flashed. “Terry is an asshole, but this
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