51. London
It took me a second to realize I was still alive. My eyes flew open just as Nick’s hired thug tumbled down the steps, lifeless.
I whirled back around and saw a police officer lowering her rifle.
She’d just saved my life.
I raised my arms as an officer approached me with his weapon raised. “I didn’t …”
“Stay there, hands up.”
Another officer moved past me to check the bald guy’s pulse. He’d been shot in the head. There was no pulse. “All clear!”
“Is there anyone else on the plane?” the one who held me at gunpoint asked.
“The pilot. He’s unconscious. And Nick. He’s dead. I’m not armed. I’m the one who was kidnapped.”
“London Shaw?”
“Yes.”
The officer lowered his weapon and called out to his colleagues. Armed officers moved past me and up onto the stairs to search the plane. Another approached me. “Are you injured?”
“London!” Murray drew my attention. He looked ready to kill the police officer who blocked his path to me. “That’s my wife!”
I’d never seen him so enraged.
“Please, I’m fine.” I batted away the police officer’s hand as she tried to check my pupils. “I want my husband.”
At that, she guided me away from the plane behind the line of police cars to where Murray was on the verge of being arrested. Seeing me approach, he stopped arguing, his eyes glistening with tears as they roamed over me.
I’d realize later that I not only had Nick’s blood on me, but my face was already swelling from where he’d hit me, and I still had the cut lip from the bald associate. God, the man had tried to kill me, and I didn’t even know his name, I thought distantly.
It was only as Murray wrapped me tightly in his arms and I inhaled the familiar scent of him that shock finally hit. I couldn’t stop shaking. When the ambulances arrived, they insisted I get in one. Murray jumped in with me, not letting go of my hand.
“Where’s Kelly?” I thought to ask as black dots clouded my vision.
“Safe. With Ramsay.”
“That’s good,” I whispered before unconsciousness claimed me.