Page 18 of Betrayed (Alternate Ending)

"I'm leaving!" Jase shouted from downstairs. His voice echoed off the walls and tall ceilings. "You hear me, lady? Don't shoot me. I'm gonna walk to the front door and right outta your life. Say something so I'll know you understand!"

Hope bloomed in Brook. Could it be that easy? Would he just leave? Was he afraid of her? Brook admonished herself. It's a trick. He's just trying to find out where I am. She said nothing and tried to control her breathing, scared he would hear her even this far away.

"Listen! This is the sound of me leaving! We both live another day!" The front door opened and slammed shut.

Brook took a deep ragged breath. Her hands gripped the gun so tightly they felt fused to the weapon. Listening, all she heard was the rush of her own blood in her ears. She put a foot lightly on the top step leading down to the kitchen. Halfway down the stairway was a landing with a turn to the right. Tentatively, Brook edged down, staying close to the wall. She took another few steps; she was almost at the turn. A rectangle of light from the room below reflected on the wall ahead of her. Two more steps. A flitting shadow passed across the light on the wall. He was in the kitchen!

With a short sob, Brook turned and ran back up the stairs, right into Jase's waiting arms.

Brook screamed and tried to point the gun at Jase. As he attempted to wrestle the gun away, a shot flew into the ceiling. He squeezed her wrist, but she held tight to the gun. It waved wildly around as they fought over it. Jase punched her in the gut and Brook doubled over; his other hand still held her wrist in a vice-like grip. She sucked in a painful breath.

The smell of patchouli clawed its way into her nostrils and Brook experienced the beginnings of a flashback. Hate gave her strength. Jase snarled as he manhandled her, flinging her against the wall. Brook kicked and managed to tangle her feet in his. They fell, tumbling over each other, across the landing and down the stairway. And still she gripped the gun.

Her head bumped against the baseboard at the bottom of the stairs, and Jase landed hard on top of her. They both panted as they struggled to recover.

"I'm gonna enjoy the fuck out of killing you," Jase growled in her face. Holding her down with his body, he pinned her arms over her head and banged her hands against the floor. The gun discharged again. The bullet pinged into the refrigerator. With steel fingers, Jase pried the gun from her hands and tossed it away. It skittered across the tile and bumped up against the base of a cabinet.

Brook arched her neck and eyed the weapon. Above that, she noted the open window, bright under the outdoor security lights, curtain blowing in the cool night breeze. It had been the moving curtain that cast the shadow on the stairs, she realized with dismay. She had tricked herself right into the open arms of her enemy.

Jase pulled her to her feet and backhanded her. She stumbled backward and landed hard on the bottom steps. He launched himself onto her, pushing her arms down and pinning them under his knees. She wriggled beneath him, but could gain no purchase. The edge of the stairs dug into her back.

Jase panted, his dark eyes gleaming with malice. Reaching to his right calf, he slid up his jeans and pulled a knife from his boot. Flicking it open, he smiled. "I'm gonna carve you like Thanksgiving turkey, bitch."

Brook closed her eyes. A second later she felt his weight lifted from her.

"You fucking bastard," Lance bellowed as he slammed Jase into the wall. The knife dropped from Jase's hand and Lance kicked it away. He threw Jase across the room. Jase stumbled, trying to maintain his footing, but slipped and slid headfirst into the stove with a loud bang. He struggled awkwardly to his feet and swung a fist at Lance, but he was no match for the larger man. Lance grabbed Jase's hand and bent it back, snapping his left arm like a twig. Jase howled, and doubled over. Clutching his injured arm, he tried to scurry out the door to the garage, but Lance stormed over and dealt him a set of harsh blows to the kidneys. Jase dropped to the floor and squirmed, reaching behind himself with his good arm.

"Lance!" Brook clambered to her feet. "Be careful. He had a gun!" She stepped towards them.

"Get back, Brooklyn." Lance gave her a quick glance, then turned his attention back to Jase.

Jase finally freed his weapon from his waistband and turned it toward Lance. With a speed that belied his size, Lance kicked the gun out of Jase's hand and it slid a few feet away. Then Lance was on him, delivering blow after blow. Jase's head snapped from side to side.

"Freeze! Police!" Randi Conroy, gun drawn, shouted from the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

Without looking behind him, Lance raised his hands. "Okay, okay." He stayed atop Jase, who moaned, mouth bloodied.

"Don't shoot!" Brook dashed toward the detective. "He's the good guy. Don't shoot!"

"Get behind me, Brook," Randi said, her gun still pointed at Lance.

Brook didn't move. "No, that's Lance. That's my friend. Don't shoot!"

"Fine," Randi said as Marco joined her, weapon drawn. "Nobody's going to shoot anyone. Now, get behind me while we get everything under control."

Reluctantly, Brook stepped behind the detective.

"Sir, I want you to get slowly to your feet," Marco told Lance.

Lance rose carefully, breathing hard as the adrenaline gradually drained away. He moved away from Jase.

"Over there." Randi nodded toward the table. “Keep your hands where we can see them.” She moved cautiously forward, slipped on a pair of latex gloves, and snatched Jase's gun from the floor. She emptied the clip and slid the gun into a plastic evidence bag before dropping it into her jacket pocket.

Lance stood at the table and leaned against it with his hands splayed on the surface. Brook hurried to his side and wrapped her arms around him. At a nod from Randi, Lance drew Brook into an embrace, holding her close.

Jase rolled around on the tile, grunting like a wounded animal.

"You got this?” Randi asked her partner before she left the room to radio for assistance.

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