Clint helped her out of the car, and she was careful not to bump her arm on the door. She fished the keys from her pocket and started toward the house.
“Oh! Clint, could you grab my purse? I forgot it in the floorboard.”
“Sure.”
With a nod, she continued down the concrete path that led from the curb to the front door. She and Cindy had exchanged house keys just in case they ever needed them.
The shrubs lined both sides of the small porch. The porch light wasn’t on, so the only light illuminating the front came from the streetlight two houses down.
Leslie had just registered the smell of kerosene as she reached for the doorknob when someone grabbed her from behind and whipped her around to face the street. Her keys fell and skidded across the porch and into the shrubs.
She barely had time to gasp before cold metal pressed against the side of her head.
“Stay quiet, or I’ll pull the trigger right now.” The voice, low and menacing, spoke next to her right ear.
“Put it down. Now.”
Leslie’s gaze swung to Clint, who was standing in the middle of the pathway, his gun drawn. But her captor washolding her directly in front of him, so there was no way Clint could get a clean shot.
“If you take a step closer, I’ll blow her head off.” The man’s voice dripped with disdain.
Panic flared, and she instinctively tried to move away from the gun. Her captor immediately grabbed her left arm and squeezed against the bullet wound from earlier. She let out a low groan of agony at the white-hot pain.
“You shoot her, and I promise you’ll die.” Clint’s voice was calm. Even.
“I don’t figure I’m walking away from this anyway, so I’m going to finish what I started.” He pressed the muzzle of the gun even harder against her temple.
Leslie flinched. The idea that it could go off at any time sent shivers of fear down her spine. Her brain wanted to shut down with panic, but she needed to stay focused. Calm.
“My wife died because of you,” the man snarled, his warm breath against her ear and neck.
“Jacob Boulder.” The name rumbled from Clint’s chest. “Marissa’s death was not Leslie’s fault.”
His grip on her arm loosened in shock just a moment before tightening again. Leslie gasped, and her knees nearly went out from under her. She prayed Cindy was inside calling the police right now, and that she wouldn’t try to open the door and put herself in Jacob’s crosshairs.
“Don’t even speak her name. You’re not allowed to speak her name!” Jacob nearly shook with rage. “You have no idea what it’s like to stand there and watch, knowing that the person you love more than anything is burning to death. And all because the people who are supposed to be heroes don’t even try to save her.”
“Please.” Leslie flinched when hemoved the muzzle of the gun forward just a little. “We couldn’t go to those apartments on the third floor. They were already fully engulfed. The hallway in front of them was collapsing. I’m sorry, but your wife would’ve already passed before we even arrived on the scene.”
It seemed so cold to say it like that, but it was the truth.
“I don’t believe you. You took my wife from me, and now it’s your turn to know exactly how it feels to lose someone you love to a fire.”
Realization hit Leslie like a truck. It’d been Jacob who’d tried to call and text her, and it was all a ruse to get her here. But that meant he’d been inside the house and used Cindy’s phone…
“What did you do to my sister and her kids?”
Rage dulled the pain in her arm and made her want to whirl around and try to fight back. But as long as he had that gun to her head, she’d be on the losing end of any battle.
“Oh, your nieces are still fast asleep in their little beds. But your sister? She didn’t even know I was in the house. I tied her up and put her in the pantry. Trust me, I made sure she wasn’t going to get out. She’ll be trapped, just like my Marissa.” He dropped her arm and reached into his pocket. He lifted a lighter up in front of her face, produced a flame with a click, and laughed.
Fresh fear surged as she realized he was going to set fire to her sister’s house and then force her to watch it burn with her family inside.
Seeing Leslie held at gunpoint filled Clint with a rage that he struggled to keep in check. He forced himself to breatheevenly and stay focused. He wished he had a way to call in for backup, but if he reached for his phone, then it would agitate Jacob further.
Leslie sagged a little when Jacob stopped squeezing her injured arm and pulled something out of his pocket. With a click, a flame appeared.
Clint tried to grasp what was happening. Jacob had broken into the house, tied up Leslie’s sister, and he knew there were two little girls still in there. Yet, it was clear the deranged man was more than willing to set the whole place on fire and burn them alive.
