Page 37 of Midnight Rebel

We enter a larger chamber, moonlight filtering in through a grate high above. Frank pushes me roughly against a wall, finally removing his hand from my mouth.

“Now, Miss Clarke,” he says, his voice dangerously low, “we’re going to figure out how to keep that pretty mouth of yours shut.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep the fear from my voice. “People will come looking for me, Frank. Colt knows I’m here.”

Frank’s eyes gleam in the dim light. “By the time they find you, it’ll be too late. These tunnels can be quite treacherous, you know. Accidents happen all the time down here.”

My heart races as the full gravity of the situation hits me. Frank is desperate, and cornered. There’s no telling what he might do. I need to keep him talking, and buy time.

“Why, Frank?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain steady. “Why go through all this trouble? There has to be more to it than just resentment.”

He regards me suspiciously for a moment, then lets out a bitter laugh. “You want the truth, Miss Clarke? Fine. It’s not like you’ll be sharing this story with anyone else.”

Frank begins to pace, his words spilling out in a torrent of desperation. “I never meant for it to go this far. It started small—a few bets here and there. I thought I could handle it, that I’d quit while I was ahead.”

I listen intently, my mind racing for a way out. As Frank talks, I slowly edge along the wall, my fingers tracing the rough stone behind me.

Every inch of distance I can put between us might be crucial. I keep my eyes on Frank, watching for any sign that he’s noticed my movement.

“But the debts kept piling up,” he continues, his voice cracking with shame and desperation.

Frank runs a hand through his thinning hair, his eyes unfocused as if he’s reliving every bad decision. “I shifted from placing bets at the track to the casino, believing I could win it all back, you know?”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Before I knew it, I was in over my head. The kind of debt you can’t walk away from. I took out loans, thinking I could buy some time, maybe turn things around.”

Frank’s eyes meet mine, and I see a flicker of the man he might have been before greed and desperation took over. “I didn’t know then that the loan sharks were connected to the developers. It was all a setup from the start.”

“The developers?” I prompt, hoping to keep him talking. My hand finds a loose stone in the wall, and I curl my fingers around it, just in case. “How did they get involved?”

Frank’s face twists with relief and disgust, as if finally confessing is a weight off his shoulders and a bitter pill to swallow.

“They approached me out of the blue. Offered to clear all my debts, and make everything go away. All I had to do was help them acquire The Manor.”

“And that’s when the accidents started happening,” I say, my voice carefully neutral.

I need to keep him distracted and keep the information flowing. Every detail could be crucial later—if I make it out of here.

Frank nods, a hint of pride creeping into his voice despite the circumstances. “It was the perfect plan. Make the place look unprofitable, and force a sale. No one would suspect the loyal estate manager, always there to ‘fix’ the problems.”

I continue my slow, careful movement along the wall as he speaks. Freedom is only a few steps away, but one wrong move could spell disaster.

“They forced your hand?” I ask, hoping to keep him talking.

Frank nods, his eyes defiant. “I didn’t have a choice. They threatened to expose me, to ruin me. The ‘accidents,’ the financial manipulation—it was all their idea. I was simply following orders.”

As he speaks, I notice a loose stone in the wall behind me. If I can reach it without him noticing...

“And now?” I ask, inching my hand toward the stone. “What happens now, Frank?”

His face hardens. “Now, I finish the job. Once you’re out of the picture, nothing will stand in the way of the sale. The developers get The Manor, I get my freedom.”

My fingers close around the stone as Frank’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “Enough talk,” he growls, stepping toward me. “It’s time to end this.”

I yank the stone free and hurl it at Frank’s head in one desperate move. It catches him off guard, striking his temple. He staggers back, momentarily stunned.

I seize the opportunity, darting past him toward the tunnel entrance. But in my haste, I misjudge my footing on the uneven ground.

I stumble, my ankle twisting painfully beneath me. I hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of me.

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