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The gate was broken down.
Dead men were on the ground.
Three black SUVs drove up the roundabout to the house.
“Oh my god…”
Did they come because Fender wasn’t here?
Or did they come because they assumed he would be here?
Or…was he dead? “Oh god…”
The door flew open, and I screamed.
“It’s me.” Gilbert rushed to me, holding a handgun. “Come on.” He spoke in loud whispers and waved me toward him.
I ran to him and took his hand. “What’s happening?”
“Be quiet. We have to make it to the safe room. That’s where the staff hides.” He hurried me out the door and peeked down the hallway before he pulled me with him.
I was breathing so hard, I thought I would pass out. I let him drag me along in the dark, heading to the stairs.
Three men were running up, all dressed in black.
Gilbert yanked me back. “Shit.” He moved quicker, hurrying down the hallway and taking a right.
“Where’s the room?”
“Bottom floor.”
Oh no…
We ran as quietly as we could.
“Not here.” A voice drifted out from where we had just escaped. The sounds of doors being thrown open, furniture being pushed aside were so loud, it was as if they were right behind us. “Bitch, we’ll find you.”
They were there for me.
Gilbert took me to another set of stairs, one that the staff used, but it was blocked by guys at the bottom. “Fuck.” He tugged me again, pulling me into a random room where he left the door open. He quickly ushered me around behind the bed, and we both ducked down.
“Did they kill everyone else?”
“They’re already in the safe room.” He held his gun at the ready, ready to turn and shoot someone when they came looking.
Despite my terror, my breathing paused to look at the side of his face, to look at him in a way I never had before. “You came for me…”
He pressed his forefinger to his lips to hush me.
The sounds of the house being ripped apart were audible. Plates shattering. Glass breaking. Men yelling to one another.
Sitting there in the dark and listening to it all made the experience so much worse.
I held on to his arm because I was scared, more scared than I’d ever been. “They’re here for me, which means they probably won’t kill me. Give me your gun and hide under the bed.”
He put his forefinger to his lips again, giving me a fiery look that said, “Shut up now.”
Footsteps grew louder.
They entered the bedroom.
I was so fucking scared, I was about to pass out.
The closet doors were thrown open. The bathroom was checked.
Maybe they wouldn’t look on the other side of the bed.
But they did.
A man stepped around and stilled when he saw us.
Gilbert pulled that trigger, shot him right in the chest, and he went down instantly.
I covered my mouth to stop the scream that wanted to burst out.
The men heard the shot and came running. “She’s here!”
Gilbert moved in front of me, covering me with his body as he prepared to face off against the men who came.
I held on to him, tears streaming down my face.
One man came around the corner of the bed, carrying a shotgun. He pointed it right at Gilbert.
Gilbert was still, staring down that barrel without fear. “He’ll come for you. All of you.”
I was barely coherent because the sobs racked my chest. “I’ll come with you. Just—”
He pulled the trigger.
“Ahh!” My hands immediately released him when the blood hit me.
Gilbert went limp and slid to the floor, his eyes still open, his chest still rising and falling.
“No!” My hand immediately went to his chest to stop the bleeding…even though nothing could be done.
The man grabbed me by the hair and dragged me away. “Come on, bitch.”
I screamed as I was dragged across the floor. “No!” I tried to fight back, but that just hurt my scalp harder.
Gunshots rang out in the house.
The man stilled and looked out the door before he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me to my feet.
The gunshots grew louder, making my ears ring as they echoed down the hallways.
He pulled me into the hallway then abruptly yanked me back like he saw something. He pushed me back and aimed his shotgun, as if expecting someone to round the corner any moment.
It must have been Fender’s men, so I kicked him in the back of the knee so he would falter and drop his aim. “Help!”
A man rounded the corner and moved too quickly for me to see what actually happened. But there was no gunshot. A knife sliced across the man’s throat and made him collapse in front of me.
I crawled backward to get away.
Then I saw Fender standing in front of me.
Covered in blood. Expression maniacal. His breathing fast. His posture still. He took me in with a rage I’d never seen before. He was on his knees instantly, his arms grabbing me and checking me, his hand planting itself on my chest to see if I had a gunshot wound. “Chérie, are you hurt?”
