DOMINIC 

 

I instinctively reach for my gun, but even after she stabbed me, there's no way I could ever shoot my own sister. But still, I latch onto the gun but I don't hold it for very long before it clatters to the marble surface of the kitchen beneath me.

She steps backwards as the knife shimmers underneath the kitchen lights and my own blood begins to drip onto the floor from both my wound and the knife.

I drop a hand to hold against the open wound in my abdomen. I've suffered enough injuries in my life to know that this doesn't have to be a fatal wound, not if I get to a doctor in time, anyways.

But I have to wonder if this life is even worth living anymore knowing that I've lost my sister. There's no way she's the same girl she used to be. Because the girl I remember couldn't so much as hurt a fly. She most certainly would never stab her own brother under any circumstance.

I crane my head up to get a good look at her glistening eyes. They say that someone's eyes are the windows to their souls. They say the only way to truly reach someone is to look them in the eyes. I can't understand why she'd tried to kill me, but I also know that right now it doesn't matter. What matters is that she's crying, which means she feels remorse. That can only mean one thing. It means that she's not too far gone.

I can still save her but first, I must save myself.

"Why…" I try to ask her but all I can get out is the first word. I try again, "Why did you—?”

She grabs the knife even tighter, straining all of the muscles in her arm and hand. "Because you did this to me!"

"No…" I shake my head gently but it's using too much of my remaining energy. I spent so much of my life blaming what happened to her on myself. To this very minute, I still do. But if I take responsibility right here, right now, it will only give her more ammunition to use against me. If I admit any guilt in any of this right now, she’d probably just finish the job. "I didn't…"

I'm momentarily distracted when the lights above me flicker as if we're about to lose power again. When I drop my eyes back to meet her at eye level, there's a certain kind of storm brewing in her eyes. I glance down at the hand holding the knife and notice that she's gripping it even tighter than before to the point where I’m worried the blade is going to cut into her own flesh.

The lights flicker once more and then the power goes out.

It's the last thing I want to do right now but I know it's the smartest move. While the power is out and before her eyes can adjust to the darkness, I twist around on my feet and cut around the corner of the kitchen to head back into the long hallway that leads to the foyer.

My left hand is occupied holding on to my stab wound as my right hand shuffles against the wall to ensure that I both keep standing up right and end up where I'm trying to go. From behind me, I don't hear anything. I don't hear feet clattering against the marble tiles and I don't hear the sound of anyone trying to follow me.

That's a good thing for right now because I swear to God, I'm not leaving this mansion without my sister. And if I intend to stitch that plan, I need to regain some of my strength and patch up this wound so that I'm able to fight for my family.

I finally manage to make it to the end of the hall and shift across the foyer so that I can push through the first of the two doors of the office. I close the door behind me as gently as I can, but it still manages to creak.

I dig my phone out of my back pocket and use it as a flashlight. And even though I know the light might alert someone to my presence, it's a risk I have to take. I search around the room for anything I could possibly use to help close off the wound. All I can see are the curtains, but then I realize that I can just use my own shirt.

I drop down into the office chair behind the wooden desk and rip my shirt off of my body. It takes everything in me to not scream out in pain as loud as possible as the shirt passes over the open wound.

With my torn shirt in my hand, I began to tear it into long fat strips. I hold my phone that's being used as a flashlight between my teeth as I begin to search through numerous drawers on the desk to find some adhesive. Finally, I manage to locate some duct tape in the bottom drawer. It's a hot pink color, and though that's not my usual choice of color, I'm not about to complain. As if it's the appropriate time to be petty over something so stupid when I face the very real risk of bleeding out.

As quickly and efficiently as I possibly can, I place the fabric over my wound and then tape it in place. Then, I add another layer. And when I rip the tape once more, I swear I can hear someone approaching from the hall.

My heart begins to thump as I reach into the waistband of my jeans to grab the gun I had procured from the dead man outside. I rise to stand, the office chair squeaking beneath me when I release my weight from the leather.

I'm too shaky to aim accurately with just one hand so I use both hands as I point the gun at the office door straight ahead. The lights flicker back on, stealing my attention for a brief moment before I see a shadow pass by the office doors.

Somehow, I need to regain the upper hand. Somehow, I need to find a way to procure the element of surprise. If I have to, I will knock my sister out cold and drag her out of this godforsaken house. I will lock her up in the basement of the factory until she gets her head on straight if I have to. There is no length that I won’t go to save her.

I'm waiting for whoever it is outside the door to burst inside but they don't. Maybe, somehow, they don't know I'm in here. I realize though that that is nothing more than wishful thinking because even though it was dark in the hallway when I fled the kitchen, I'm quite sure there would be a trail of blood leading right to the office.

I swallow a nervous lump in my throat as the power flickers off once more. The first time it had happened, I was quite sure it was on purpose. I figured that someone knew we were here and turned off the power intentionally so that we couldn't make our way through the complex. But the more it happens, the more I'm inclined to believe it's a neighborhood power surge or it's the result of an imminent storm that hasn't quite hit yet.

That's just about the only way this night could get any worse. It never really rains here in Southern California, but when it does, man, does a pour.

Now that it's pitch black again and I'm back at square one, I realize that this is the best opportunity for me to make my move. I step to the door as quietly as I can, trying to make as little noise as possible. And when I pull open the door once more, it doesn't creak like before. Finally, I've caught somewhat of a break no matter how little of a break it may seem. It's still a break when I've had mishap after mishap tonight.

I crane my head both ways, looking ahead at the formal living room first and then the moonlit hallway that leads back to the foyer.

Thinking back on every case I've ever worked on, I try to think about the most likely scenario. I imagine that Shelby will no longer be in the kitchen where I had found her the first time. If she's even in this house at all, I imagine she is somewhere else. That's to say nothing of what happened to Katie. Ever since she took off from the porch, I haven't heard a peep from her. I pray silently and to myself that she is okay wherever she is.

No matter how this ends tonight, I have so much to thank her for. She's made me feel something for someone when I never thought that was going to be possible again. She convinced me that my sister was alive and led me directly here. Once I get both her and my sister out of here safely, I'm going to make it my life's mission to help find her lost brother.

I tilt my head upwards to glance at the pitch-black loft above me. And in the faintest of shadows, I swear I can see a face.

I stick as close to the wall as possible as I began to ascend the steps quietly. With every step I take towards the pitch-black darkness, my heart races faster and faster. Worse though, with every step the aching and stabbing pain—no pun intended—in my stomach becomes more and more severe until I reach the point where I'm grinding my teeth in an attempt to try and hold any audible signs of pain at bay.

The closer I get to the landing of the stairs, the more concerned I get. The face that I could have sworn I saw while standing in the foyer hasn't moved an inch. It's like I'm walking closer and closer to a ghost, or worse yet, a dead body.

I think about calling out to whoever it is but I think better of it. If it's anybody that's an enemy, or if it's my sister, then they might try and stab or shoot me. I've suffered enough abuse today.

I finally reach the landing and a chill runs down my spine when I realize that the face standing there in the pitch-black darkness still hasn't moved. I ready the gun in front of me; have it aimed squarely at the silhouette of the figure before me.

The lights flash on and just as expected, it's my sister. She's staring blankly ahead at the windows that hang above the front door of the foyer. Almost in slow motion, she twists to face me. Her eyes are glassy and bloodshot. I've never seen her look so dead in my entire life, not even when she was plunging a knife into my stomach.

Once more, for whatever stupid reason, I drop my gun to hang at my side. Just up ahead of me, she swallows a gulp and flinches but I can't figure out why.

I feel a sharp kick against the back of my knee before I'm shuffling to the ground to kneel before her. And then before I can do anything about it, my gun is ripped from my holster and I'm whacked in the back of the head with it. I buckle forward until my head bounces against the hard floor. My eyes are blurry and my head is dizzy, but still I force myself to rise back to my knees. And even though my vision is blurred, there's no mistaking that the man who disarmed me is Christopher Lawson himself.

With the gun he has stolen from me pointed at my head, he circles around me to stand side-by-side with my sister. He drops his free hand to grip her at her waist and pulls her into a kiss.

My heart crumbles in an instant. She's far too gone and at this point, I don't know if there's any saving her. I don't know if there's any way to save myself but I can't bring myself to care. The one thing in this world I should have done, protect her, I've failed to do. And no matter the circumstances that have led to this day, I can't bear the sight of watching her kiss someone as crooked and evil as Christopher Lawson. He's nowhere near as bad as Seth Grimm was, but most men aren't capable of that level of maliciousness.

When they finally part ways, it's a sigh of relief. But the relief doesn't last long because it's a visual nightmare I can't unsee. My head is running wild with possibilities and theories, and the worst part of it all is that none of it matters. It doesn't matter why they're embracing or kissing. It only matters that they are.

"You had to have known it would always come to this," she says to me softly, as softly as I remember her voice always being. "From the day you sold me out until today."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I grunt out, half in pain and half in frustration and confusion. "How could you be with someone like that?"

"Someone like me?" Christopher snickers and shakes his head sideways like he doesn't know what I'm talking about. "You mean someone who is loyal and loving and takes care of his wife." His lips hitch into a wild sneer and I know at this point, he's doing nothing but taunting me.

I notice that they're both wearing rings on their left ring fingers. Hers sparkles underneath the lights of a blinding diamond chandelier. I shake my head in disbelief because I can't believe this is happening. There has to be an explanation and even if I die trying to find it, I'm going to figure it out.

"You sold me out, Dominic." Her lips quiver as she bites into her lower lip. "For the longest time, I thought you'd come for me. But the days went by and then the months too. And then years, and I just slowly realized that you weren't coming." She passes Christopher a quick look, almost like she's asking for permission to speak, before she looks back to me with glistening eyes. "I thought you were going to save me because that's what you've always done. Back when we were younger, you saved me. And then you went away to the war and you became an actual hero. But you never came…"

"I woke up every day and tried to find you." I grunt out in pain as I force myself to stand. And just when I have the strength to do so, Christopher lunges forward and kicks me square in the chest so that I am thrown back onto the floor. My back lands with a painful crack against the hard floor. Still, I resist. I force myself back to at least sit on my knees so I can look them both in the eyes. "I never once gave up hope."

"I didn't need your hope," she seethes. "I needed your help like you have helped so many other people before." Christopher, in an effort to taunt me I'm sure, reaches around my sister’s back and holds her close. His eyes bore into mine and I'm sure that I can't hide the disgust written all over my face. "I spent nine years in captivity. I spent nine years hidden in a small room, locked away from the rest of the world. I never thought I was going to live to see a normal life again until this man came and saved me."

I'm starting to get a picture of what's going on and though I don't like it, I can't help but to chuckle lightly. That light chuckle soon turns into all-out laughter and I can no longer control it. Maybe it's because of the blood loss, but I just cannot believe the story Christopher has sold to her. It's no wonder she was ready to kill me because he's probably told her so many damn stories. After Seth was thought to be dead, he swept in and grabbed a few of the people Seth had held captive under the guise of saving them.

I think I'm going to enjoy killing him even more than I enjoyed killing Seth Grimm.

"What the hell is so funny, Dominic?" she screams at me and rips the gun out of Christopher's hands. She stretches out her arm and points the gun rights at my face.

I don't laugh anymore. I wipe away all hints of finding this funny in an instant. "He's sold you lies." I shrug because there's not much else I can say. "That man used to work for the very man that had you kidnapped." I know I have to tell her as much of the truth as I possibly can and I have to do it fast. I know that I have to make her understand and believe my side of the story. I know that I have to get her to turn on the man who is apparently her husband in just a few short seconds. "I'm sorry, Shelby," I cry out to her but it's more of a plea for her to listen to me. "I'm sorry because you were taken because of me. You were taken as leverage to be used against me by Christopher's employer."

"No…" She shakes her head furiously. "You're lying." She passes a quick glance to Christopher. "He said you would do this." She looks back to me and takes another step towards me, her finger dancing along the trigger as if she's about to pull the trigger at any second. "He said that you would try to blame anyone else."

My entire body grows tense with anger and rage, but it’s not directed at her. It's directed at the man who I will kill even if it takes my last dying breath. "Why do you think I'm here?" I ask her, because I need her to understand this one simple question. I need her to think about why I would be here if I really did give her up.

"You know, when he first told me that you were responsible for my kidnapping, I didn't believe it. You were my older brother and protector, so I didn't want to believe it." She's shaking now too. She's unable to control her wildly changing emotions and that's something that's always been hard for her. "It wasn't until another man he rescued described to me in complete detail about the man that had kidnapped him." With her free hand, she wipes away tears that are now streaming down her face. "He described you, Dominic. You kidnapped him for that man, Seth Grimm. The same man you gave me away to."

"He's full of shit," I grind out. "Seriously, Shelby! Just ask yourself this one damn question. If I gave you away then why the hell am I standing here today trying to get you back?" I have to scream at her because I don't know any other way to get her to hear what I'm saying. It shakes me to my very core to have to talk to her like this, but it's the only way I'm going to be able to get through to her. "Think about it!" I demand with another shout.

She cocks her head sideways and her eyes flicker once and then twice. Tears that are heavier than the ones before begin dripping down her cheeks. And we make eye contact, perfect eye contact for probably the first time. Our eyes linger on each other for a while before Christopher is marching forward to try to take the gun from her hands.

"I know this is hard for you…" He drops a palm against her back while he reaches for the gun with his free hand. "Let me do this for you so this nightmare can finally be over."

I don't say anything because this is the choice she has to make. Katie was right; at the end of the day, we always have to make choices.

She raises her head and her eyes to meet his. And then her eyes twist sideways to meet mine. That's when I give her the nod of approval and I think she finally understands me. She takes two steps back from both Christopher and I and in the blink of an eye, she raises the gun at Christopher. He tries to protest, throws his hands in front of his face, but it's too late.

She pulls the trigger and this nightmare is finally over.

I sit there on my knees motionless as I watch the scene playing out before me. It's almost in slow motion as his body collapses dead to the floor, landing with a hard thud against the marble surface.

She drops the gun and it clatters against the floor, it bounces a few times before it finally comes to a rest. And she twists slowly to look at me and I can see the hesitation in her eyes.

"It's okay…" I nod at her, signifying that I hold no grudges against her for stabbing me. I can't imagine what she's been through these last ten years so I'm willing to give her a free pass even as my body is screaming out in pain. "It's over now."

She stands in front of me, her lips trembling and she's unsure of how to proceed. There's a look of utter confusion on her face because she doesn't know how to put all the pieces back together again. She glances back to Christopher's dead body and begins to shake uncontrollably. On some level, I feel bad for her that Christopher is dead. I feel bad for her that she had to be the one to pull the trigger. As much as I hate that man and as much as he deserved to die, he tricked her into believing that he loved her. And she loved him back and she had to put a bullet through his head.

She's already lost too much in this life and now I make her one last promise that I plan to uphold for the rest of mine, "I will never let you go again."

She grunts as she rips the diamond ring from her finger and throws it onto Christopher’s still warm but dead body.

She passes me a solemn nod as I slowly and painfully climb to my feet. I close the distance between us and throw my arms around her back to pull her into a tight embrace. The weight of her body crushing against mine is enough to send me into an unbearable painful state, but I wouldn't trade this hug for the world. I've been waiting for this embrace for ten years. I just hope it doesn't end this time with a knife in my gut.

I'm joking.

Sort of.

"I'm so sorry…" she cries against my shoulder and I hold her even tighter.

"I'm never letting you go again," I whisper to her, my words slipping past my lips through gritted teeth. "But I should probably get to a hospital."

She stumbles backwards, realizing that she had been pressing her body against the wound she gave me. "I'm so sorry."

"I told you it's okay…" I force a smile through the pain, because even though it hurts like hell, I haven't been this happy in ten damn years. The nightmare is finally over. "I'm taking you home now."

"You're not going anywhere," Katie says from behind me. And when I crane my head over my shoulder, I see her standing right behind me with her gun aimed at my head…