Jamie held his pistol firm, its barrel unwavering until he let out a resigned sigh. He tossed the pistol into the room, and it hit the floor with a clunk, sliding almost to Randall’s feet. Randall swiftly picked up the gun. As soon as the knife left her throat, Claire tried to move, but Randall placed a hand on her chest, shoving her down on the table. With one hand holding her down, he aimed the pistol at Jamie, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight.