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He smirks.
“I was going to push him into a position where he had no choice but to hand you to me on a platter.”
My heart races at his words, waves of hot anger beating at me as he continues. “All I had to do was tell him that I’d stop your father’s treatment if he didn’t do as I say, so he did exactly as I expected he would. He was introducing you to me, defending me to you.” He steps closer until I can feel his breath on my face. “Did you think repaying off the loan would make me back off?”
He lifts one hand to brush the hair off my face, then, in a deceptively gentle voice, says, “I invested years in you, Lana. I know your type so well—proud, stubborn. Breaking you would be so much fun.”
My body trembles with disgust as he trails his fingers down my jaw and neck until his hand circles my neck. I bite out, “That sounds like a personal problem to me. Get your hands off me!”
I try to push him off me, but he digs the gun in deeper. Again, I freeze.
“Let’s go inside where we have more privacy.”
Oliver’s inside!
“I’m not opening the door,” I growl. He tightens his hand on my throat just as I hear a shout from the fire escape exit.
“Get away from her!” Fred rushes toward us, his face taut with anger. I use Matt’s distraction to push the gun away.
Matt’s face is cold. He raises his gun in Fred’s direction, calmly saying, “You’ve outlived your usefulness.”
I throw myself at him as the loud shot rings throughout the hallway.
“Fred,” I scream. He’s holding his arm, blood spreading over the pale white of his shirt. I try to rush toward him, but Matt pulls me back and tosses me onto the ground as he aims at my brother again. Overcome with fear and adrenaline, I grab Matt’s leg and yank, making fall down on his face. The gun goes off, ricocheting off the wall, only to hit the carpet at Fred’s feet.
Matt snarls, trying to grab me, just as the door opens and Oliver steps on his hand. He looks down, his tone mild. “The police are on their way. Terribly unfortunate how you broke so many bones while falling down the stairs.”
“W-what?” Matt’s confidence wavers. Oliver grinds his foot down on Matt’s hand, making him whimper. Before I can open my mouth, he says, “Go tend your brother.” And then he hauls Matt up by the back of his shirt and throws him inside the apartment, the door slamming shut behind them.
I blink in shock at the sudden proceedings. But then, hearing Fred’s pained moan, I scramble to my feet and rush over to him. “Are you— How badly are you hurt?”
“The bullet went through,” he whispers, his face pale. “Are you okay?”
I swallow, ignoring the way my dress is torn from my shoulder, not remembering when it happened. “I’m fine. We need to call an ambulance.” I frantically fumble for my phone, my eyes burning and my face hot.
“It’s just a flesh wound, Lana,” Fred tries to reassure me.
I shake off his words. “Then why are you bleeding?”
After I manage to call an ambulance, the wait is terrible.
“What were you thinking?” I scold him. “What if he actually managed to kill you?”
“What did you expect me to do?” he growls back. “Let him hurt you?”
“You were willing to let him do that before,” I quietly point out.
Fred’s face blanches. He shakes his head, his voice small. “I would have stopped him. Even if something were to happen to Dad, I would have stopped him. I never meant—Lana, I never meant for any of this to happen.”
My shoulders droop. “Well, it did.”
I have my scarf pressed against his wound. The bleeding has slowed. Fred is looking worse for the wear, and he doesn’t seem to be able to talk much. He’s leaning against me, face wan. Barely ten minutes have passed until the door to my apartment opens. Oliver steps out, tossing an unconscious Matt on the floor. The man is bruised up, having been beaten so brutally that my mouth goes dry.
“What did you do to him?” I gasp out, and Oliver raises a brow. “I taught him not to mess with what’s mine. You all right there, Fred?”
Weakly, Fred nods.
I finally hear the sirens, relief filling me.
