Page 16 of Betrayed (Alternate Ending)

"Ah, shit! Benny!" Pete shoved past Jase and knelt beside his friend. He sobbed at the sight of Benny's mangled, bloody head. Carefully, Pete rolled Benny over. He tentatively reached toward Benny's face, then pulled his hand away. Benny's eyes were rolled back and his breathing was raspy and erratic. Pete looked up at Jase, eyes full of anguish. "He's still alive! We've gotta get him to a hospital!"

"Fuck! Everything’s going wrong.” Jase shouted “Well, we can’t worry about Benny right now! Just go get that bitch, and bring her ass to me!" He used his gun to indicate the direction Brook had fled.

Still crying, Pete rose to his feet, looked uncertainly at Benny, and then pounded up the stairs.

In the bedroom, Brook fumbled with the drawer on the nightstand, knocking the lamp off in her haste. Grabbing the gun, she checked to be sure it was loaded and released the safety. She frantically searched the drawer for extra ammunition, but didn’t find any. She heard Pete’s labored breaths as he ran up the stairs and could tell when he stopped at the top as if to get his bearings. After that, she lost track of him as the thick carpet muffled his footsteps.

Brook held still, listening with all her might. She was taking a step towards the hallway door when Pete’s voice sounded near the stairway. “I don't know where she is," Pete shouted in panic. "There's all kinds of fucking rooms up here."

"Why don’t you just advertise your fucking position, dumbass? If I can hear you, she can hear you.” Jase's curse was followed by something crashing into a wall. “Use your fucking brain, man, check every fucking room ‘til you fucking find her!” There was a slight pause before Jase hollered, “Listen, man. She ain’t on the rear steps so she’s still up there somewhere. You find her. I’m gonna ransack the place. Make it look like a burglary gone wrong.”

“Fine, fine,” Pete mumbled. “I’ll do all the dirty work.” He kept his voice down but Brook heard him and knew he was getting closer.

Brook ran to the far side of the bed and dropped to the floor, eyes wild. Reaching up, she lifted the receiver to the bedroom phone, its gentle light illuminating the numbers. She dialed 911 and put the phone to her ear. Nothing. The phone line had been disabled. Cursing softly, she raised her head above the bed and watched a shadow pass by the door.

“Dear God, please help me,” she prayed through her tears, and ducked back down. Brook heard the door across the hallway open and sounds of someone tossing the room.

Her mind searched frantically for an escape. Her cell phone was charging in the downstairs den, out of reach. If she jumped out a window, she would surely kill herself upon the stone patio below. She wondered briefly if she could slip out of the bedroom while Pete was searching one of the other rooms and sneak down the servants’ stairs to the back door. No. He was too close. He'd be here any second.

Down below, Jase began his search for valuables in the den. He figured he'd find a safe here. His eyes scanned the room and settled on a flashy piece of modern art in an expensive frame. Looks like somebody puked on a canvas. His mouth twisted in a derisive sneer as he pulled on the edge of the painting. It swung out easily on silent hinges, revealing a recessed safe. Damn, now I need the combination. Maybe my old boss has it in his wallet.

Jase stepped through some of the crap he’d tossed onto the floor as he made his way back into the living room. “What the fuck!” he bellowed.

Clark had crawled to the front entrance, pulled himself upright, and was just opening the door when Jase grabbed him from behind, and pushed the door closed once more. “No,” Clark hollered. “No, let me go!”

“Man-up, you fucking pussy.” Jase yanked on Clark's arm and Clark fell to the floor. He howled as pain ripped through his bullet-torn shoulder. Grabbing him by the other arm, Jase dragged Clark across the living room and into the den, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Jase dropped Clark’s arm and walked to the safe. “What’s the combo?”

Clark stared with glassy eyes. Comprehension dawned. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I think I’d rather fuck your wife. She’s really good, ya know?”

“You bastard," Clark panted weakly. "Leave Brook alone. I’ll tell you what you want to know. It’s 19-5-3-29-2-6-7. Start to the left."

Jase entered the number, turned the handle and nothing happened. He turned to find Clark crawling from the room and strode to stand over him. "You cocksucker! I'll give you one more chance." He ground his heel into Clark's wounded shoulder.

"Arrrgh! God!" Clark writhed under Jase's boot. His vision swam as he fought unconsciousness.

"The combination, asshole." Jase pulled his foot back.

Gasping, Clark cried, "I gave you the right numbers. I swear to God!" He struggled to rise from the floor, using his good arm, but was barely able to lift his torso.

"You better not be fucking with me." Jase wiped his boot on the carpet, leaving a smear of Clark's blood. He returned to the safe and looked over his shoulder. "Give me the numbers again, real slow."

Through a haze of agony, Clark uttered the combination. This time the safe opened and Jase's eyes widened at the piles of cash within. Smiling, he aimed a kick at Clark's damaged shoulder. Clark's screams echoed through the house. "Thanks, man!" Jase said, pressed the gun to Clark's temple, and pulled the trigger. Clark collapsed.

Jase stuck the gun in his waistband and knelt to rifle Clark's corpse. He pocketed Clark's wallet, watch, and rings.

Upstairs, Brook heard Clark's cries, followed by the shot, and then silence. She stifled a sob. I'm on my own now.

Still fighting tears over Benny's condition, Pete sniffed as he entered the room and spotted the toppled lamp. Brook tensed, crouching low in the crook formed by the nightstand and the mattress. She raised her weapon with trembling hands, and aimed it toward the foot of the bed.

"You find her yet?" Jase called from below. Dumping the papers and files from Clark's briefcase, Jase filled it with the contents of the safe. He then hauled the case from the room and set it beside Benny’s limp form. There must be a million big ones in there, Jase thought before turning his face upwards once more. “Hey, Pete!”

But, Pete didn't answer. He was closing in on his prey. He flipped the switch, turning on the overhead light, and Brook blinked from her hiding place between the bed and the wall. Pete was tall enough to see over the mattress to where she huddled against the wall. Her eyes met his.

Chapter 64

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