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The girls are my top priority. My fingers curl around their bedroom door and I slowly push it open, slipping inside and quickly scanning their room. They’re completely out of sight but their panicked loud breathing coming from inside the closet gives them away, and if I were anybody else, they would have been caught in seconds.
I sneak across the room and slowly push against the closet door, letting it swing open only to find Dominique cowering in the corner, tucked into a tight ball as Danika stands tall, protecting her sister by holding out a gun, aimed straight for my chest. “The fuck?” I grunt, racing forward and taking the gun straight out of her hand as she falls to the ground in relief.
“We … we thought …”
“Shhh,” I soothe, holding out a hand to both the girls and pulling them to their feet. “I know what you thought. You’re both safe. It was just me. Nobody else is in the house. Now, go and sit on your beds and keep the door closed. I will come back for you.”
They both nod, intuitive enough to know that something is about to go down but far too innocent to piece the puzzle together, and just as I requested, they make their way to Dominique’s bed and sit together, both watching intently as I walk out of the room and close the door behind me. I step away from their room, knowing that the fear inside their chests is still there, but at least they know they’re safe.
Making my way down the long hall toward the master bedroom, I ignore the holes in the wall from when Sara decided to help me redecorate. The house still looks like shit, and to be honest, I’m pretty fucking gutted about it. I was positive that my mother would have attempted to fix it up, but the fact that she hasn’t tells me that she never had any intentions to stick around anyway, but I won’t be letting her leave with my sisters again.
Reaching the master bedroom, I silently slip inside the room, and gently close it behind me, not wanting to step deeper into the room, knowing that if I do, she’ll be able to see me from the closet. I need to get the drop on her and I need to make it fast.
I creep across the room, keeping as close to the wall as possible until I’m standing side by side with the closet door. I can hear her labored breath. She hasn’t been in a situation where she’s had to fight for her life in a while, and I can’t wait to make her beg for it.
The alarm turns itself off and I don’t doubt that the relentless screeching has woken up every single person who lives in this estate, and I grin to myself, more than ready to tell anyone who will listen exactly what my mother has been up to. She’ll never be able to show her face here again, but she shouldn’t have to worry about that because I have no intention of allowing her to show her face anywhere ever again.
The softest creak sounds from within her closet and I smile to myself, shaking my head as she begins to move toward the door, assuming the coast is clear. The door slowly peels back, opening the closet but I remain still. After all, why would I go to her when she’s so clearly going to come to me?
I see the gun first as she holds it out in front of her, quickly sweeping the room but failing to look all the way around. She steps out of the closet, silently tiptoeing as she goes to move toward the main bedroom door.
I step in behind her like a silent, deadly shadow and only when she catches my reflection in the dresser mirror does she scream and whirl around, her reflexes far too slow for me.
The gun flies toward my chest and my hand shoots out, gripping it tightly and disarming her before her scream has even completely faded from the room. She shrieks as I take her arms, forcing them behind her back and pushing forward until she slams against her bedroom wall, her face squished against the drywall as I spin her gun in my hand, knowing just how easily I could end this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Dante?” she yells, the disappointment in her voice triggering that lost boy who lives inside of me. But unfortunately for her, I live to disappoint this bitch. “Get off me. This is insane.”
I press into her, my fingers on her wrists, feeling the rapid beat of her pulse and knowing that despite the pissed-off glare on her face, she’s shit scared. “You know what’s insanity?” I question, ignoring her desperate pleas to be released. “A woman who allows a fucking psychopath to kidnap her daughters.”
