Summer gasped.
Was she really seeing what she thought she was seeing, or was she hallucinating?
She blinked, rubbed her eyes with her good hand, and looked again.
She still saw the same thing.
It couldn’t be but apparently it was.
“Luke,” she whispered.
No, no, no.
Why was he here? She had thought he was at the police station. How had Chance managed to abduct him from there? For the first time she wished he was back at the police station, safely in custody. She couldn’t bear to watch Chance kill him.
“Chance, don’t do this please,” she begged. She had tried to heed his earlier warning to keep her mouth shut, but she couldn’t let him hurt Luke and do nothing to try and stop it. “Take us home, let us get you help, you're sick, but you can get better.”
He ignored her.
He left Luke’s limp body on the floor and walked to the table.
Summer panicked. Was Luke already dead? No, Chance had picked up a hammer and a long nail. He was going to restrain Luke. He wouldn’t do that if he’d already killed him.
“Chance, don’t, don’t hurt him, please. I'm begging you.”
Again, he ignored her. He knelt by Luke, who made no move to defend himself, grabbed one arm, and held it steady while he positioned the nail.
Summer scrunched her eyes closed.
She couldn’t watch this.
Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t reason with Chance. Whatever had happened to him to make him start murdering people had turned him evil. Hewantedto kill them, and hewantedit to be as painful as possible. It was hopeless. They were all going to die, her and Luke and Hope.
“What did I say about screaming?” an angry voice demanded as the box was shaken violently.
She sucked her bottom lip inside her mouth and clamped her teeth down on it so hard she tasted blood.
She wouldn’t scream.
She wouldn’t.
“I told you to be a good girl, but you weren’t. Now you have to be punished.”
Chance began to roll her box over and over around the room.
Although she didn’t want to make him any angrier than he already was, Summer couldn’t help but cry out in agony as her body crashed down on her broken arm with each bounce of the box.
By the time he stopped, she was crying uncontrollably. She was on the edge of blacking out. Pain pulsed in her ears drowning out everything else. Why couldn’t he just kill her and get it over with? Why did he get such pleasure from torturing them?
“Summer. Summer.”
Someone was insistently calling her name.
It didn’t sound like Chance.
“Summer. Baby, answer me.”
It was Luke.