Now she was trapped in a box, waiting for a maniac to come and kill her, her friend, and the man she loved.
Loved?
Did she love Luke?
“Summer?”
She lifted her heavy head and peered out at Luke. He had stretched himself as close to her as possible with his hand nailed to the floor. His blue eyes were anxious, his forehead pinched with concern, and his short black hair was matted with blood from the blow to his head. When she looked at him, she felt such a swell of emotion inside her. There was respect, admiration, and definitely the first inklings of love.
“I'm all right.” She gave him a weak smile.
He relaxed a little and smiled back. “You’re amazing.”
She huffed a small laugh. “You always think that.”
“Because it’s true.” His face grew serious. “Summer, I might not get another chance to say this …”
Luke broke off when the cabin door opened.
Chance stood there, beaming madly, a gun in his hand.
Was he going to shoot them? At least that would be quick and painless. Assuming that hewantedit to be quick and painless. He could shoot them in a place that would lead to a long and slow death. Since he seemed to enjoy inflicting pain and watching people suffer, it was probably a safe bet that he would want to go with long and slow.
“Chance,” Hope tried to draw his attention to her. “Please, I know you love me, and I know you're sick, I know about your tumor.”
His face grew troubled.
“I know this isn’t you,” Hope continued. “It’s the tumor. That’s what's making you do this. You are not this violent, evil man. You are kind and gentle. You help kids that don’t have anyone else stand up for them. You help me. You make me feel special, wanted, loved, and safe. Please. Let’s go home. Together.”
“Together,” Chance scoffed. “There is no together. I'm going to kill your friends while you watch and then I'm going to kill you.” He stalked over to Luke and pressed the barrel of the gun to his forehead.
“Chance, no,” Summer shrieked.
“Summer, don’t watch,” Luke ordered.
But she couldn’t turn her eyes away.
She was about to see someone she thought was a friend blow out the brains of the man she was falling in love with.
“Chance, please,” Hope begged. “You’re scaring me. I want to go home. With you. I love you.”
He hesitated. “You still love me?” Chance asked.
“I don’t like what you’ve done, but I understand it’s not really you. You, the real you, I won't ever stop loving. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”
“Why?” He lowered the gun and turned toward Hope.
Summer let out a sigh of relief and slumped back down. Hope seemed to be getting through to him. If she could just convince him to put the gun down and let her go, then everything would be okay. Hope could call for help, the cops and paramedics would come, and they would all be okay.
Everything would be okay.
She lifted her head again to see what was happening.
“There is no why, Chance,” Hope said quietly. “I just love you.”
“I love you too.” He walked over to the bed and ran a hand over Hope’s hair, then cupped her jaw. “I love you too.”
“Then let’s go home, please, Chance, please,” Hope begged. Tears rolled down her cheeks and Chance reached out and caught them with his fingertips.