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I didn’t know what else to do, this was my last attempt to escape the clutches of another made man.
I couldn’t withstand another marriage to a bastard of a man. I wished my brother saw that.
“Come here, Mia,” my brother said, standing and pulling me with him, “I’m not going to let another man hurt you. Trust me.”
He was so blind. So stupid. He was not my savior; he was my punisher disguised as one. Even after everything I showed him, he still believed this was the best decision for me.
I had to get out of here. However, I could.
I sniffled, and nodded, causing my brother to pull me to his chest and hug me tightly.
At first, my hands remained at my side but the desperation to leave this hell -this country- propelled me to hug him back, slyly checking for the gun, he used not too long ago. It was still warm against his back.
My hand grazed the metal as I hugged my brother and I huffed.
It was now or never. I needed to get out of here. Away from my brother, away from Galdur, away from this shitty family.
Quickly, I pulled the gun from his waist and pushed him away from my body, causing him to stagger a bit before the chair held him by his knees.
My brother looked up at me, his hands raised as I held the gun with shaky hands pointing it squarely at his chest.
I never shot a gun, but I was not opposed to shooting my brother in his ankle or feet- I didn’t want him dead- I just wanted control of my life. Control to choose who I married.
“Mia put down the gun,” he said, his voice sharp as his eyes kept note of my finger hovering over the trigger.
“No,” I said, shaking my head tears freely flowing from my eyes and snot running from my nose, “Get up.”
“What do you expect to happen here, Mia?”
“Whatever I need to get away from you.”
“Mia, I’m trying to protect you.”
“No! No! Get up,” I shouted, my hands trembling as the foreign object began to weigh down my arms.
“Okay, okay... relax,” My brother said, slowly standing.
“Give me your car keys.”
“Mi—”
“Stop talking. Give me your keys.” I repeated, through gritted teeth.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me? Your brother. Mia put--”
Frustrated that he still was not listening to me, I aimed at the wall behind him and pulled the trigger, my arm shifting from its place from the recoil.
Michael ducked and not long after his goons stormed the dining room, their guns pointed at me. My stance began to waver being at the receiving end of multiple guns; it was intimidating and downright fucking scary.
I didn’t want to die. I just wanted a life without pain.
“Put your damn guns down,” my brother yelled at them, which they did slowly, their eyes still on me.
“Mia, you’re not leaving so put down the gun… Please,” my brother said, easing towards me.
I knew I was defeated. There was no way I was getting out of here. There were too many. The helplessness of my situation hit me brutally. As I slowly lowered the gun, my shoulders shook violently as the tears ran steadily down my face, dampening the top I wore.
My only chance to escape had gone.
