Page 100 of The Masked King

It’s a trapdoor.

It opens easily when I go inside and lift the wooden hatch to reveal a stone staircase leading down to pitch blackness and silence.

I don’t hesitate. Gesturing at Gio to cover me, I place my foot on the top step, waiting for the first bullet to find its mark.

It doesn’t.

Another step, and I hold onto the edge of the gap in the floor to keep my balance.

“I’m coming with you.” Demi is behind me, and I realize there’s no point arguing with her. She never listened once she’d set her mind to something, and I’m glad nothing has changed. “Hand me your cell phone, Enzo.”

I don’t question it. I hand over the device, and a small arc of white light lands at my feet, highlighting the blood spatters on my boots and pants, and the sheen of moisture on the steps. The light sways, or maybe it’s me, but I lean against the wall for support and focus on putting one step in front of the other.

Malevsky and his men are not down here. It’s immediately apparent that there’s nowhere for them to hide. The containers are too small to hold an adult, and when Demi shines the flashlight around the basement, it’s neat as a pin, everything stacked against the wall, no half-used paint tins, no cartons of unwanted kitchen appliances, no garden hoses or shovels or spare motor engine parts.

“What have you found?” Gio is down here too.

It niggles away at the back of my mind that we shouldn’t both be down here because this must be part of Malevsky’s plan, but his men are guarding the trapdoor above our heads, and I’ve spotted a heavy door on the other side of the basement.

“A way out,” I say.

I try the door, but it’s locked.

“Or a way in,” Demi adds.

“She’s right. We should get out of here.” Gio’s eyes scan mine for signs that I’m holding up, then he glances back towards the trap door.

“Do you think this is a trap?” Demi asks.

I can smell the gasoline clinging to her sneakers and running tights. The cartons lining the walls, I realize now, are cardboard. One tiny spark from his lighter, and a fire would spread around the basement before we could take a breath.

“Go!” I’m running out of words, and the concussion is jumbling my thoughts and making it hard to concentrate. “I’m right behind you.”

Demi makes it to the bottom of the stone staircase first. One step, and we hear gunfire from inside the house.

“Stay with Gio and his men.” I don’t want her waiting around for me. “Gio, you need to get her out of here.”

Gio goes next. I can see two of his men waiting by the trapdoor above our heads, but the gunfire is getting closer; Malevsky was tracking our movements and choosing his moment. While we’ve been underground, it sounds like he and his men circled back on themselves and invaded the house one step behind Gio, and one step ahead at the same time.

My legs feel like they’re made of wood. My breaths feel like I’m underwater, and I’m starting to shiver.

“Not fucking now,” I mutter to myself as I watch Demi leave the basement behind.

Gio hesitates when he reaches the top step, and I can’t fathom how he got so far ahead of me. “Enzo, talk to me.”

“I’m fine. Keep Demi safe.”

More gunfire. Malevsky and his men have found Gio’s foot soldiers.

“He’s mine,” I remind my brother.

But he’s gone.

Fuck! I need to snap out of this, fuck the pain off, and get the job done. I promised to protect her with my life, and it all comes down to this moment, right here, right now.

Deep breath.

I don’t see them, but I trust Gio to protect Demi the way I would protect Meggie and the children if the roles were reversed. I raise my gun as I approach the top of the staircase, gripping it tightly when I notice it shaking in my hand.