No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

cocktail. There’d be zero chance of escape. Darby’s hoodie
was drenched with gasoline, damp and clinging. So was Jay’s
parka. They’d both be burned alive.
Firing the weapon, in here, was suicide.
Darby lowered the pistol. “Shit.”
“But instead, you killed my brother.” Ashley kicked the
table again. An exhaled, wolfish chuff. The table scraped
another inch, bumping Sandi’s limp ankle — he now had
almost enough space to squeeze through.
Darby almost hurled the handgun in rage. “Shit, shit, shit
—”
Jay touched her shoulder. “What?”
“I …” Darby rubbed blood from her eyes, reassessing,
drawing desperate new plans. “You know what? It doesn’t
matter. He’ll never touch you again. I swear to God, Jay, I am
your guardian angel, and Ashley Garver will never hurt you
again, because I will kill him.”
“I’ll kill you.” Ashley kicked again. “You fucking whore
—”
Darby stood up, wiping gasoline off her hands. “Listen to
me, Jay. We’re not waiting for the police. We’re not waiting
for a rescue. I’ve been waiting all damn night and no one’s
rescued me. Almost everyone I’ve trusted tonight has turned
on me. We are the rescue. Say it, Jay — we are the rescue.”
“We are the rescue.”
“Louder.”
“We are the rescue.” Jay stood up on shaky legs.
“Can you run?”
“I think so. Why?”
Darby had one more idea. Last-ditch didn’t even do it
justice. She grabbed a handful of brown napkins from the
counter and mashed them into the bagel toaster. Pressed the