CHAPTER 7: HE TOOK THE SECOND BULLET
757 Words
The second shot tore through the room before I could breathe.
The sound hit hard, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs as it echoed against the walls, leaving a ringing silence behind it that felt worse than the noise itself.
Kessler did not fall. For a second, I thought he had. His body jerked, his shoulders tightening from the impact, but he forced himself upright, refusing to give in as blood spread faster across his shirt, darker now, heavier, marking a second wound.
“Kessler, stay back,” he said. The man with the gun lowered it slightly, watching him with quiet focus, as if measuring how much longer he could remain standing.
“You should have stepped aside,” he said. Kessler did not answer. He shifted forward instead, placing himself fully between me and the gun, his stance unsteady for only a second before locking into place again.
“You are done here,” he said. The words came out quiet, but final. The man’s expression did not change. “No,” he replied. “You are.”
Something inside me snapped. “Stop talking like I am not here,” I said, “Tell me what is going on.”
Neither of them moved. Neither of them looked at me. Why me? I demanded. Why is this happening to me?
The man’s eye shifted slowly. “You really do not know,” he said. Then tell me, I shot back. “No,” Kessler said immediately.
The force in his voice stopped me cold. I turned toward him, anger rising fast. “You do not get to decide that.” “I do,” he replied, his jaw tightening. “Because I am the reason you are still alive.”
The words hit harder than I expected. Before I could respond, the man spoke again. “He cannot protect you from this.” My eye snapped back.
From what? “From what you are.” What does that mean? Kessler stepped forward, “That is enough.” The man ignored him.
“You think this ends with your father’s death,” he said. “You think this is about inheritance, or control.”Then what is it about? He held my gaze.
“It is about you.” Kessler moved without warning. His hand locked around the man’s wrist, forcing the gun away from me with sudden, brutal precision.
The shift was immediate. The gun jerked sideways as they collided, bodies slamming into each other as Kessler drove him back a step.
“Run,” Kessler said. I did not move. “I said run.” I am not leaving you, I snapped. That earned a look.
You are not staying, he said. The man twisted against his grip, forcing the gun upward, fighting for control. You are wasting time, he said.
“I am buying it,” Kessler replied. Another shot is fired. The bullet slammed into the wall. The sound forced a flinch out of me.
Kessler, “Go!” he shouted. This time, something in his voice broke through everything else.
I moved towards the wall in the hidden passage. My hands found the edge of the panel, pushing, forcing it open as the struggle behind me intensified, the sound of impact and movement colliding in sharp bursts.
Another shot rang out but I did not turn. I forced myself through the opening, slipping into the narrow darkness beyond as cold air pressed in around me.
The passage was tight. Every step felt louder than it should have as I moved forward, one hand against the wall, the other bracing against the uneven surface as I pushed deeper inside.
My pulse spiked. I moved faster, ignoring the way the narrow space fought against me, forcing my body through it as the darkness shifted ahead, hinting at an opening.
I reached it. A door. My hands hit it immediately, forcing it open with all the strength I had left. I stumbled forward into another room, catching myself just before I fell, my breath coming sharp as I turned, ready to shut the door behind me, and I froze.
Someone was already there. Standing in the center of the room. Waiting, watching me like they knew exactly where I would come out.
My heart slammed hard against my ribs. They lifted the gun slowly. And this time, I saw their face. Because it was someone I knew.
Someone who should not have been here.
Someone who should have been… Dead.
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