Page 107 of Devil's Riches

22

Alexis

Edward pattedthe top of my head like I was a small child. “It won’t be long now,” he said. “In a minute you’ll get a sedative to put you in a twilight state, and then you’ll get the full dose of anesthesia once we’re in the theater. I promise you won’t feel a thing.”

His lips were still twisted in a cruel smile, but it was his eyes that scared me the most. Flat, unblinking, and staring right at me.

The nurse on the other side of the room stuck a needle in an ampule and started heading back over to us, gaze focused on my IV stand. At the same time, Dr. Redstone opened the door and stepped into the room. “The surgical suite is ready,” she said, smiling faintly at Edward.

As she spoke, a masculine shout from somewhere outside made my ears prick up. The door was still partially open, and an arm shot through it a second later, preventing it from closing again.

A man stepped inside, jaw clenched and hands bunched into fists at his side.

Nate.

Dark spots appeared in the corners of my vision, and I lost the ability to hear everyone’s voices over the sudden thunderous rush in my ears.

It couldn’t be Nate standing in the doorway. It was just a dream, or a hallucination caused by a flood of adrenaline.

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I saw Nate’s mouth open as he stared at me. He seemed to be shouting my name, but I still couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in my ears.

The nurse passed the ampule to Dr. Redstone and charged at Nate. Nate swung a fist at him and clocked him in the jaw and throat in quick succession, sending him to his knees. Then he grabbed him by the shoulders and smashed him into the wall, eyes burning with fury. The back of the nurse’s head took the brunt of the impact, and he slumped onto the floor, eyelids fluttering shut.

My fuzzy brain finally started to register sounds again. I heard Edward barking orders at Dr. Redstone. I also heard more shouting from somewhere outside the room.

Dr. Redstone pulled the syringe out of the ampule and ran toward Nate, holding it high in the air. He twisted her arm, took the syringe, and jammed it into the side of her neck before pushing down on the plunger. She screamed and pulled the needle out, but it was too late. Her legs were already wobbling. Soon, she’d be slumped on the floor, out cold.

“Help!” Edward shouted as a security guard rushed into the room. “This man is attacking us!”

The guard glared at Nate and drew a pistol from his belt. He stepped forward, holding it in front of his barrel-like chest. “Stop right there, or I’ll shoot,” he said, aiming the gun right at Nate’s heart.

The two men were only a foot apart. If the guard fired, Nate would be shot at point blank range. He wouldn’t survive that.

No one would.

Nate didn’t lift his palms in surrender like the guard obviously expected him to do. Instead he steeled his jaw and brought his hands together from opposite sides, almost like a clap. One hand grabbed the barrel of the gun and twisted it to aim diagonally upwards while the other struck the guard’s right wrist in a chopping motion. The guard let out a grunt of pain, and the gun popped right out of his hand and flew onto the squeaky-clean vinyl floor, skidding along until it came to rest beside the coffee table on the other side of the room.

Edward hurried toward it. For an old man, he was surprisingly sprightly, and within seconds he was crouching on the floor to retrieve the gun.

“Nate!” I weakly called out, struggling to sit up. “Watch out!”

He didn’t seem to hear me. He was too busy fighting with the security guard now that he was disarmed. He punched him in the jaw, sending him flying backward, and then he grabbed his head on either side and smashed it into the door, making him crumple to the floor.

“Nate!” I screamed again, wildly flailing my right arm to get his attention. Edward had risen to his feet now, gun clutched in both hands.

He aimed it right at Nate, who noticed a split-second too late. He was too far away to disarm him. If he tried to rush toward us, Edward would pull the trigger and blow a hole right through his chest.

“Well, what do you know, Alexis? Looks like your knight in shining armor showed up after all,” Edward said, smiling thinly. He cocked the trigger. “It was a mistake, though,” he went on, aiming his stony gaze at Nate. “As soon as I’ve killed you, we’ll proceed with the surgery. I’m getting that liver for Deborah, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

Nate’s shoulders tightened like they always did when they were tense, but his expression remained calm. “You can shoot me if you want,” he said. “But there’s something you should know first.”

Edward scoffed. “What?”

Nate patted his jacket pocket. “See my phone?” he said, raising his brows. “It’s live-streaming everything that’s happening. I have a lot of people on my friends list, and I bet they’re all watching and linking it to their friends as we speak.”

Edward’s face remained impassive. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“I can prove it.” Nate slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed us the screen. It was too far away for me to make out any details, but I could see emojis flying up the side of the screen as people reacted to the stream. “Most of the viewers probably think it’s some sort of joke, but I bet a few of them are taking it seriously. Some of them might’ve even called the police.”

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