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I closed my eyes, tuned out the sounds to background noise, and calmed my breathing.
The fog cleared, and I’d made up my mind.
I gripped the gun and stood on my feet.
Viktor had said he would be here shortly, but I knew a life could be taken in just a matter of seconds. Ilias wasn’t going to be the one whose life would be wasted tonight.
Like Martin, he shouldn’t be the one to take a bullet or death when it was meant for me.
Silent tears ran down my cheeks, but they felt hollow. I numbed the fears for my life, and they now shouted for Ilias’s. I shook the trembles away from my hand to place it firmly on the knob.
I walked silently out of the closet.
His struggles were loud, and I wondered if the neighbors could hear, if they would call for help. But even if they had heard, I was all he had at this moment inside this house.
I denied the terror with each step, deprived my feelings to only the ones I had for him, and rejected any sense of humanity.
I cleared my head, hearing sounds coming down the hall. As my hand twisted the knob, pulling it ajar, I wondered If I could even pull the trigger. If I would hesitate.
A body with eyes wide open stared up to the ceiling in a pool of blood. His hand laid awkwardly over his chest where a wound bled close to the one that took his life. A knife was etched onto his shoulder blade, straight and deep into his skin.
The sight halted my movements, and I trapped my gasp with the palm of my hand. Tears blurred my sight, and before I hid back into safety with the screams in my head, I looked past it.
Ilias, Ilias, Ilias, I chanted in my head to keep me from thinking.
The house was pitch black compared to before, and I had no doubt it was their doing.
I urged my feet to move past the dead body, but before I got the chance, two large frames tumbled out of the opposite bedroom. I hid back in the shadows, wanting the element of surprise if given.
Fists met flesh, and cries that weren’t Ilias’s roared in the hall.
I took that as a good sign, a sign that maybe we had a chance.
But how many were here?
I peeked around the door frame, and Ilias pounded on the guy’s stomach. The figure tried blocking him, but he was no match to the ire Ilias was under. His eyes were dark and not a glimpse of mercy showed in their depths.
His blows kept coming, his face was bloody, and his hair was wet from sweat and blood as it dripped down his neck.
Then his eyes looked up. They locked on mine, and he hesitated his next punch.
It was a mistake. Ilias had wanted me away, not only to keep me safe, but from the distraction I could cause.
And I'd failed.
His opponent took his halt for his own gain, and I watched as it was too late for Ilias to react to the jab of the guy's fists before connecting to his chin. The force took Ilias by surprise, and his head shot backward with a loud thud vibrating in my ears. His head hit the wall, his body slumping down.
I kept my cry deep in my throat as I watched the guy stand before him.
My heart screamed in agony at the sight.
The dark frame whistled mockingly. My brows furrowed at the sound, how could he find such joy?
My palm sweat with the tight grip on the gun. If I had wondered if I had the guts to shoot someone in cold blood, at this moment, I had the answer.
I would when it meant Ilias was in danger.
With both hands, I raised the weapon straight out in front of me.
