She could stand with his arm around her. Her stomach heaved. He waited until the spasm passed.
“Up the ramp. Do you remember where you are?”
She nodded.
“Take the key out of the door, Reba. Come inside. Now lock it and put the key around my neck. Hang it around my neck. Good. Let’s just be sure it’s locked.”
She heard the knob rattle.
“That’s good. Now go in the bedroom, you know the way.”
She stumbled and went down on her knees, her head bowed. He lifted her by the arms and supported her into the bedroom.
“Sit in this chair.”
She sat.
“GIVE HER TO ME NOW.”
She struggled to rise; big hands on her shoulders held her down.
“Sit still or I can’t keep Him off you,” Dolarhyde said.
Her mind was coming back. It didn’t want to.
“Please try,” she said.
“Reba, it’s all over for me.”
He was up, doing something. The odor of gasoline was very strong.
“Put out your hand. Feel this. Don’t grab it, feel it.”
She felt something like steel nostrils, slick inside. The muzzle of a gun.
“That’s a shotgun, Reba. A twelve-gauge magnum. Do you know what it will do?”
She nodded.
“Take your hand down.” The cold muzzle rested in the hollow of her throat.
“Reba, I wish I could have trusted you. I wanted to trust you.”
He sounded like he was crying.
“You felt so good.”
He was crying.
“So did you, D. I love it. Please don’t hurt me now.”
“It’s all over for me. I can’t leave you to Him. You know what He’ll do?”
Bawling now.
“Do you know what He’ll do? He’ll bite you to death. Better you go with me.”
She heard a match struck, smelled sulfur, heard a whoosh. Heat in the room. Smoke. Fire. The thing she feared most in the world. Fire. Anything was better than that. She hoped the first shot killed her. She tensed her legs to run.