Chapter 8 - The Long Walk Home
Twenty minutes.
That was all the time we had.
The guard shoved me hard against the wooden bannister of the grand staircase, wrapping thick, heavy-duty zip-ties around my wrists, binding them tightly behind the carved mahogany post. He yanked the ties until the plastic bit deep into my skin, cutting off circulation.
“Don't move,” he growled, pressing the cold barrel of his pistol against my temple for a second before turning away to join Celeste down the hall.
I strained against the plastic ties, my fingers frantically searching along the rough wood behind my back. My mind raced at a thousand miles an hour. Gabriel was walking into a slaughterhouse. He was coming back alone, blinded by rage and terror for his daughter, walking straight into an ambush set by a desperate, cornered psychopath.
I couldn't let him die.
I twisted my wrists, ignoring the skin tearing and the sharp pain searing through my forearms. The zip-tie was thick, but it was anchored around a decorative spindle of the bannister that had been loosened during the renovations a month ago.
Come on, I muttered to myself, biting my lower lip until I tasted copper. Think, Claire. Think.
Downstairs, the heavy front doors of the penthouse clicked open.
Heavy, hurried footsteps echoed across the marble foyer.
“Celeste!” Gabriel’s voice roared through the cavernous living room, shaking the glass windows. “I’m here! Show yourself!”
From the upper hallway, Celeste and her guard froze. Celeste stepped out, a smug, victorious grin spreading across her face as she drew her own small revolver from her coat pocket.
“He’s right on time,” she whispered to the guard. “Take the stairwell angle. Make sure he doesn't leave the foyer alive.”
The guard raised his silenced pistol, taking aim over the edge of the second-floor landing down toward the grand staircase where Gabriel was stepping into view.
I threw all my weight backward, screaming in pain as the loosened wooden spindle snapped from the bannister with a loud, echoing crack!
The guard whipped around, startled by the noise.
Before he could raise his weapon toward me, I swung my bound hands—still attached to the broken wooden spindle—like a heavy club, smashing it directly into the side of his knee.
The man howled in agony, his leg buckling beneath him as he crashed hard against the hardwood floor, dropping his gun.
“Shoot her!” Celeste screamed, spinning around and leveling her revolver at my chest.
I didn't hesitate. I threw myself sideways down the steps, dragging the broken wooden post with me just as a bullet shattered the wall directly behind my head, showering me in plaster and splinters.
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Downstairs, Gabriel heard the shot.
The beast was unleashed.
