Page 243 of Whisper

“We were nevertogether, Dan! I fucked you, like I fucked a lot of men! But only one man has ever had my love!”

“Fuck you!” Dan roared. “What the fuck did you tell George?”

“Panicking?” Kris shifted, sliding across the seat, moving his legs. “Worried your lies are about to be exposed? Worried that everyone is going to know it was you?”

“What thefuckdid you tell George?” Dan bellowed. Gone was the controlled, rational man Kris had known for years. Dan punched the steering wheel again, seething as he glowered at Kris in the rearview mirror. The car jumped ahead again, rocking over the uneven ground.

“He geotracked the phone you used to text Dawood to the warehouse. “I was closest, but the entire FBI was swooping in. Did they make you run and hide? Did you panic and flee? Is that what this is about? You on the run?”

“The FBI never showed up,” Dan spat. “No one showed up.” His hands clenched on the steering wheel, leather squeaking, groaning. “You’re lying. You didn’t call him.”

“I did. How do you think I knew where to go, asshole?”

“What the fuck did you tell him?”

“Enough that he knows the mole was meeting Dawood at that location, in the warehouse.” He kicked the back of Dan’s seat again, shifting quickly. “And who did Dawood meet? You. The game’s up! Everyone knows you’re the traitor!”

“No…” Dan’s lips thinned. “No, only you know. Only you were there.”

“You’re so fucked, Dan. Betraying your country. Giving intel to al-Qaeda. You’re going into a black hole so deep, no one will ever fucking see you again. You’re going to disappear. I almost hope they fucking waterboard you, you son of a bitch. For what you’ve done.”

“You know,” Dan growled, reaching into the passenger seat again. “I thought it would be hard, blowing your fucking brains out. I did love you, you know.” He gripped his gun as he slammed on the brakes. “But it’s not going to be hard at all.” He twisted, gun in hand, aiming for Kris—

Kris lunged, throwing his cuffed hands over Dan’s seat back and around Dan’s neck, yanking hard. He’d slipped his handcuffs around his legs while Dan wasn’t looking, bringing his arms in front of him.

Dan squawked, gasping, gagging as he tried to grab Kris’s handcuff chain and shoot at the same time. He fired, aiming wildly, and two bullets shot holes in the roof of the car. Another shot. The back window exploded.

Kris yanked harder, digging the chain into Dan’s throat. Dan thrashed. Dropped his gun, both hands rising to the handcuffs. He gagged, mouth open as he struggled to breathe. In the rearview mirror, Kris saw panic race through his eyes. Saw his face twist, grimacing, desperate.

“I hope you burn in hell,” Kris hissed. “I hope you suffer a fraction of the anguish I suffered! I hope you feel one tenth of what I felt, losing the love of my life!”

Dan’s hands scrabbled at Kris’s face, fingers trying to gouge his eyes, grab his hair. The car fishtailed, veering left and right.

Grunting, Kris heaved, jerking his handcuffs back and up, trying to snap Dan’s neck, collapse his trachea. Kill him, destroy him.

Dan’s foot slammed on the gas as he grabbed Kris’s hair and yanked, tried to haul him off, throw him sideways.

Kris screamed through clenched teeth, his arms shaking as he pulled and he pulled, and he felt Dan’s bones crunching, the delicate cartilage in his neck bending, snapping. Felt Dan’s body tremble and seize, watched his mouth gape open and close.

The car accelerated, weaving across the dirt track and heading for an open space, a break in the trees. Kris saw a sign flash by. They were headed for a ravine, a drop off the track, a hundred feet down to the bottom of a wooded gully, coming up fast.

“Shit!” Unhooking his hands from around Dan’s neck, Kris threw himself into the rear passenger seat. He grabbed his seat belt in both hands and yanked, rolling into it.

Dan gasped, a ragged, choking inhale. His hands flew forward—

The car raced off the edge of the track, hanging for a split second before tilting, twisting, tumbling in midair as it plunged toward the ravine.

Crunch.The bone-shuddering crash of impact, the car slamming into tree trunks as it careened downhill. Airbags deployed with a bang. Glass shattered, showering Kris in a million tiny fragments.

They tumbled, rolling end over end, jerking left and right, ricocheting and skidding through underbrush and dirt.

A long creak and a slow slide gave way to the bottom of the ravine, a gully tangled with vines and dead branches and a trickle of runoff in the bottom of a creek bed. The car groaned, wheels spinning as it lay on its roof.

Kris let go of his death grip on the seat belt he’d wrapped himself in. He fell to the roof, landing on his side in a puddle of broken windshield shards. Winded, wincing, he tried to breathe, tried to stop the shaking in his arms. Tried to make sense of the images, the voices, the whispers, roiling through his mind.

It all coalesced into sudden, startling clarity as he spotted Dan’s gun lying in a mess of dirt and shattered glass.

He lunged, scooping the gun up in both hands, and twisted, landing on his side as he aimed for Dan’s head.