“It took you twelve years to realize it was me sabotaging your shady business deals.”He stalks toward her, but she continues as though he isn’t a threat.“For twelve years, you hired countless goons and flooded thousands of ghost email accounts with useless death threats.”Cathy grabs Samuel’s shoulder.“Twelve years of failure because the little girl you turned your back on is now the online powerhouse who steals all your clients just by having a bit of talent and being a decent human being.”Samuel shoves Cathy off him.Rage emanates from his every move.
“The pathetic one is you, Samuel,” Penelope declares.
He lunges for her throat.She throws her head back, slamming her skull into Michael’s nose, and twists to the side.
Michael’s blade sinks into Samuel’s forearm.
I headbutt the guy to my left, burying my skull into his soft middle, and tuck into a roll.My shoulders and bound wrists scream in agony from the concrete floor, but I pop onto my feet and dart toward Penelope.
A gunshot blasts through the room, but I pour on more speed.
In true linebacker style, I duck down, drive my shoulder into Michael’s stomach, lift him off his feet, and send him flying with my momentum.
He lands ass first before the back of his head slams against the floor.Dark crimson pools around his blond hair.
I spin around and stumble at the sight before me but screech to a halt and find my balance.
Penelope straddles Samuel’s chest with Michael’s knife pressed against his throat.
The only reason his head is still attached to his body is because she isn’t pressing her weight down onto it.Yet.
With her eyes locked on the muzzle of the gun Cathy has trained on her, she ignores her adoptive brother’s screaming and writhing.
My heart pounds in my throat and roars in my ears.Every cell in my body demands I attack Cathy, but I don’t dare move for fear of hurting Penelope.
“Look around, Cathy.This isn’t high school.Your posse bailed the moment shit hit the fan,” Penelope taunts.
She’s right.Not a single thug stayed behind.
Cathy’s eyes widen as she looks around the room.
Penelope throws the knife with unexpected swiftness.
The gun retorts.
My shout echoes within the blast.I dart forward.Cathy’s screams are a dull counterpoint.
I dive behind Penelope, buffering her from the concrete with my body.Between Samuel’s knees and her momentum, the air whooshes from my lungs.My diaphragm seizes.
By the time I suck in a breath and shimmy around onto my back, Penelope’s blood coats my torso.
“Fuck, sweet pea, where are you hurt?”
I need to free my wrists but dare not wriggle out from under her.
She sits up on her own and grimaces.Dark red stains her shoulder.
“I’m okay.Phone.Need police.”
She checks Samuel’s pocket, dials nine-one-one on his phone, puts it on speaker, and continues searching him.Her hands shake so badly she drops the keys as she pulls them out of his other pocket, but she responds to the operator with relative calm.Her voice cracks several times from yelling to be heard over Samuel and Cathy’s screams, but she doesn’t miss a beat.
When she tries to crawl around me, I growl and rise onto my knees so she can reach my wrists with as little movement as possible.
The moment she frees my first wrist, I pull my arms in front of me, hissing at the pain in my shoulders, and tug her into my lap.Leaving the cuffs dangling from my wrist, I pull my shirt off over my head and use it to stanch her bleeding.She hisses, inhales, and breaks down into gut-wrenching sobs.
I rock back and forth but hold pressure on her shoulder as I murmur words of praise, adoration, and comfort.By the time the paramedics arrive, she collects herself and leans her head on my arm.
“I’m sorry.That was terrifying,” she murmurs.
