Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
He stares at me for a few more seconds, the flashlight fixed on my face, blinding me.
Please, please believe me.
“I wonder, did he give you this little script?” he asks at last. I want to cry. “Or did you come up with it on the spot? Maybe they should’ve hired you for PR, Miss Blackthorn.”
“This isn’t a stunt—”
“Just shut up. Shut the fuck up, and I won’t need to hurt you. Believe it or not, I don’t want to. I’m not bloodthirsty. I’m a peaceful person. But if you defend Kane Saint one more time—if you keep making excuses—they’ll have to write your obituary next to his.”
I shake my head, feeling my face screw up.
“Please, you don’t have to kill him.”
“I do, I do.” His voice is impassive, freed from the passion from before. “That’s what I came here to do and there’s no turning back. I can’t buy my way out of this like a Blackthorn.”
That’s it then.
The only question is if I die with Kane.
Then the storm door flies open, tossing in the wind.
Lee whips around, gun swinging at the opening.
There’s nothing there.
Just indifferent rain and churning grey clouds and the dull growl of thunder, though the rain looks lighter than before. A faint patter on the steps rather than a death drum.
I press a hand against my chest, trying to breathe.
“Who’s there?” Lee calls, unsure, inching closer to the stairs. He has the gun in both hands now, trained at the patch of restless sky.
The dim light shows off my grandmother’s statue, and I stare at it, grounding myself and trying to breathe.
Lee stays preoccupied with whoever lifted the door.
Someone must’ve yanked it open.
There’s a reason this is a storm shelter. It might be old with rusted hinges, but no wind short of a nor’easter is hauling one of those heavy doors open.
“I’m warning you!” Lee barks at the sky. “I’m armed and I’m not afraid to shoot.”
Come on, think.
Think while he’s distracted.
Could I even lift the statue? What about a lump of little shoes? Or would Lee notice and shoot me first?
A real possibility, but I can’t just stand here.
Especially if Kane’s up there, unarmed.
I can’t bear it if rescuing me gets him shot and killed.
I have to try.
So I peel away from the wall slowly, slinking toward the worktable as Lee treads up the stairs carefully. He’s too high to see me now without looking down, all his attention fixed on whatever’s waiting outside.
But what if it’s not Kane?
The Babins probably aren’t dead.
Lee beaned Viola on the head pretty bad, but how long will she be conked out? Maybe she’s already back on the prowl, lurking with her club and a thirst for revenge.
God, I hope not.
I’m done with this monster of the week thing tonight.
Also, I don’t want her to die, even if she’s an awful, deranged woman.
Lee reaches the top of the stairs and pokes his head up into the night.
I’m closing in, ready to reach for the statue and test its massive weight, when a hammer flies past him and clatters down the stairs, breaking off a chunk of concrete.
I stumble back, narrowly avoiding the impact as it spins by my feet. There’s barely a second to glance at it.
What the—
Lee fires.
“Kane!” I shriek.
Because Viola wouldn’t bring a hammer to a gunfight.
My gut knows.
And if anything happens to that brave man, I’ll never forgive myself.
When he hears my voice, Lee whirls around and sprays hellfire.
But I’m already flat on the ground before the bullets come zinging overhead.
Behind me, there’s a deafening crack. A shot goes bouncing around the room.
The sound of shattered glass.
Fine tinted shards explode like confetti as I scramble to cover my face from getting sliced.
When I open my eyes, I’m still in disbelief.
A blurry shadow cannonballs Lee with a primal roar.
Two men go down like lions, snarling and tossing, two tornadoes of limbs at war.
Kane’s on top—for now—crashing his fists into Lee’s face.
Then Lee flips him over and slams an elbow into Kane’s ribs.
Oh, no.
Kane grunts with pain, and I cover my face again.
Neither of them notice the glass shards under them. There’s a larger fragment by my hand, about the size of a spoon.
I reach out to grab it, but it falls apart in my fingers, the fine cracks split through it giving way.
So much for an easy weapon.
Then Kane levers up and throws Lee into the brick wall with so much force it feels like the whole space trembles.
Lee’s face smacks the wall with a sickening thud, but he pulls back, twisted and bleeding.
Just in time to jab his thumb into Kane’s wrist, breaking his hold.
I can’t stand this.
My fingers tremble over my eyes as I look between them, wondering how I can jump in to help.
But it’s too late.
Lee’s gun swings up, a death promise aimed at Kane.