Page 91 of Sweet Lies

“I’ll double whatever he’s paying you. Kill him,” I order, hoping it works—or at the very least that it gets them thinking.

I’m expecting the blow this time and let myself fly into the wall. I need to buy as much time as I can.

Then the air around us changes, as if something is about to happen. There’s electricity. There’s no sound to alert us we have company; it’s simply a feeling—a feeling that comes after years of trusting one’s gut.

Sebastian meets my gaze, and I know he’s realized it too. His eyes narrow, and I know he realizes his time is coming to an end. No matter what he does to me now, his end is here. The only thing to consider is how long it takes that fate to come.

He sends the men out to take a look, but we both know he’s sending them to their deaths. They’re no match for who’s come.

“This isn’t how it ends,” he mutters to himself.

“It is. Let me go, and it will end quickly,” I lie, knowing that won’t be my choice.

“No. I can still end this the way I want. I can make it out of here. I can do this.” He sounds like a madman, growing more deluded with each word.

“It’s over. Logan is here with Alex, I’m sure of it. Let’s make this easy. It will end quickly,” I attempt, hoping he takes the offer.

His eyes are getting wider, and I sense madness taking hold. It’s the insanity of a dead man walking, and that makes him dangerous.

I try again to reason with him. “It’s over. Please let this end with as little blood as possible.”

“Blood.” His eyes widen, and I know I’ve said the wrong thing.

I step away, but my back hits the wall and I know I’m trapped.

“This all started because of blood. You three couldn’t die like you were supposed to. Then you couldn’t simply kill them! For what, blood? Who cares about blood? My brothers and father hated me. Blood? That’s a joke.”

Looking down at the table, I eye the lamp that’s sitting there. It’s heavy—just what I need. I grab the base, wait the two seconds it takes for him to be a breath away, then yank it forward, ripping the plug from the socket, and slam it against his head.

Then I race toward the door.

I’m almost in the hall when I feel his hand around my ankle, pulling me back. I float in the air for a moment before my body slams into the floor. I kick out, hoping to make contact with something, as my nails dig into the floor in a useless attempt to drag myself forward.

His iron grip yanks me back, then his upper body is over mine, pinning me in place, and my mind flashes back to being stuck in the trunk all those years ago. The feeling of being trapped is overwhelming, and panic sets in. My eyes widen, and my breath comes out in sharp pants as I continue trying to wiggle away.

The familiar pop of gunshots reaches us and I know they’re close.

The pressure builds as his weight becomes overwhelming. His hand digs into my hair and he slams my head into the floor. My vision swims, but I need to stay conscious. I can buy time for the others. They’ll be here soon—I can feel it. They’ll come for me. They won’t leave me behind. It won’t be like last time because they know I’m here.

His weight disappears and then he pulls me off the floor. My eyes try to stay open. I scrape my nails across his arm. He howls, and I know I left a mark. Hopefully, the noise will alert the others.

“Bitch,” he hisses in my ear.

“Let me go, and this will end quickly.”

He laughs. “We both know it won’t matter now. They all want me dead. You’re my ticket out of here.” The cold metal of the gun pushes into my side.

“You thought Claire was your ticket last time. Yeah, I heard about that. You truly think this time around is going to end any better? You have time. Run. Leave me here and run. Hide.”

The gun digs in deeper, confirming his answer.

Shots ring out, the sound drawing closer. Everything goes silent before the bedroom door slams open.

Andre is the first one to enter the room, his gun drawn. He meets my eyes briefly before turning his full attention to Sebastian. Elijah and Logan enter next, followed by Alex. Each one appears determined—Sebastian won’t be leaving this room alive. Death hangs in the air, the Grim Reaper preparing to take his next victim.

“Let her go.” Andre’s voice is cold and brutal.

Sebastian’s laughter suggests insanity. It’s high in pitch, and I don’t need to face him to know his eyes are crazed. His fingers digs into my arm, and I can feel bruises forming beneath them. The air is thick with tension. Holding Andre’s gaze, I try to convey everything I can with a look.

---