THE CHOICE

NINE

JACK'S HEART SKIPPED A BEAT when Tim pulled the thick-bladed hunting knife out of his back pocket. The man unsheathed the weapon and polished steel shimmered, even in the dimness of the half-lit living room. What was Tim planning to do?

"Don't move," Tim ordered.

Jack didn't dare move. Whatever Tim was going to do with that knife would just have to be done. Jack's feet were duct-taped together. He couldn't run away. And even if he could, he wouldn't. He wouldn't leave his family to the whims of a madman. He closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for whatever might be coming-the searing pain of the blade being plunged, handle-deep, into his stomach, or opening his throat in a single, stinging razor-sharp slit.

Tim did neither.

Jack was a little puzzled, watching as Tim bent down and ran the edge of the knife through the duct tape around Jack's feet. What was the point in doing that? Jack didn't believe for one second that Tim was ending whatever it was he was doing that night. Jack wouldn't give himself even a glimmer of hope that everything was going to be okay.

A man had broken into their home-a man that Jack had done horribly wrong, a man that had a sour enough taste in his mouth for Jack that he might just kill everyone in the room, including himself by the time it was all said and done. And it was more than obvious that this guy was off his rocker. What little control he had over his emotions was tainted and weakened by the deepest hatred and loathing for someone who used to be his boss and someone who had cost him everything, including, it seemed, his sanity.

That's why Jack wouldn't allow himself to hope. He wasn't sure what Tim had planned, but whatever it was, it wouldn't end well. It wouldn't be a good plan. There would be pain. There might even be blood. And in the end, if Madison and Connor walked out of this with their lives (and hopefully unhurt and untouched) then that's all that mattered to Jack. He wasn't worried about his own wellbeing. And to hell with Tim Hullander. Madison and Connor were his only concerns.

"Okay," Tim began. "I want you to walk in front of me to your bedroom-nice and easy. And no funny business either." Tim raised his handgun at Jack to prove his point that this was not the time to try anything stupid.

Jack did as he was told, not exactly sure what Tim had up his sleeve, but complying, nonetheless. If Jack or his family had a prayer of making it out of this alive, he would have to do everything in his power to not aggravate their attacker any further.

Tim followed not even a full pace behind Jack, with the muzzle of his gun pressed against Jack's lower back. One wrong move and Jack's spine would splinter, and what pieces didn't escape through the blowout on the other side would pepper his internal organs like shrapnel.

Tim led him over to the bed.

"Lay down on your stomach," Tim demanded.

Once again, Jack did as he was told. But now even more disturbing thoughts raced through his mind. Surely, Tim wasn't about to do what Jack was afraid he was about to do. He thought back to every prison movie he'd ever seen. Prison was notorious for abhorrent sexual encounters-forced and violent. And one factor that stood out in Jack's mind, now more than ever, is that these unwanted encounters were not about pleasure, but dominance-a way of getting revenge or showing superiority in the most humiliating way imaginable. Was that what Tim had planned-show his superiority? Jack could hear a rustling coming from behind him but couldn't make out what it was.

He heard Tim moan.

"You about kicked this damn thing too far under the bed to reach," Tim said. He groaned again, getting back on his feet. "Turn around."

Jack's hands were still restrained, so he had to flop like a fish a few times to get his body situated enough to sit up. He was more than relieved that it didn't look like Tim was going to try anything sick. His pants were still up.

Tim motioned a "come on" gesture with Jack's pistol in his left hand. "Let's go, Thompson."

A dark and sinister expression washed over Tim's face. "It's time."