Chapter 11：The Whirlpool of Choices and the Twist No One Asked For
713 Words
Raymond’s hand wouldn’t stop shaking. Not the polite kind of tremble—more like he’d stuck his fingers in a socket. Sweat dripped off his jawline, falling onto the metal floor with little ticks that somehow made the vault feel even quieter. His aim wandered from Sebastian… to Jack… to me… to the giant wolf breathing like a furnace at my side.
Great. A room full of people who either want me dead or might accidentally make it happen.
Sebastian snapped first, his voice slicing through the silence.
“Raymond! Don’t let them mess with your head. Shoot. The money’s yours.”
Jack blurted over him, practically climbing the metal bars.
“Man, think! He’ll kill you the second you’re done. Work with us, at least you stay alive.”
“Alive” suddenly sounded like a luxury item.
I hugged the box tighter—my knuckles looked like someone had painted them white.
“Raymond… don’t throw your life away. You don’t want to spend the next twenty years living in a motel under someone else’s name.”
Lucas stayed planted in front of me, fur bristling, a low rumble vibrating out of him.
Honestly? If I hadn't known him, I’d shoot first too.
Raymond’s lips moved. Nothing came out. Then—
His gun swung. Not at me.
Right at Sebastian.
“I’m done being your pawn,” Raymond croaked.
Sebastian’s expression cracked for the first time.
“You i***t. You think turning on me ends well?”
For half a second, we all thought Raymond was about to blow a neat hole in Sebastian’s designer suit.
But no.
He spun around so fast he almost tripped, and the gun snapped toward Lucas.
“I’m not letting a mutt walk out alive,” he hissed. “His body plus that box? ‘The Judicators’ will pay triple.”
I felt my stomach drop through the floor.
Of all the directions that could’ve gone…
“Raymond, don’t—!”
It came out embarrassingly squeaky.
Lucas moved first. A black blur.
Raymond pulled the trigger in pure panic.
“Bang!”
Blood sprayed—Lucas’s shoulder caught the graze—but he didn’t even stagger. He slammed Raymond to the ground with a heavy, meaty thud. Teeth closed around Raymond’s gun arm. Raymond shrieked and clawed at the floor tiles, boots skidding.
The gun clattered away.
Jack, now pale as old bread, reached through the bars and snatched it.
He pointed it squarely at Sebastian.
“Time to settle things.”
Sebastian lifted his hands slowly, but that smug little tilt never left his mouth.
“Jack. Listen. The Judicators will hunt you. And your sweet little sister—”
Jack’s hand trembled.
“Shut up. Just shut your—”
Footsteps. Dozens of them. Rushing.
“Oh no,” I whispered. “That’s police. Rosalind must’ve—she must’ve sent backup!”
My heart leaped. For once, something going right.
Except—
When the vault doors burst open, the man leading the officers was the deputy chief.
The same deputy chief who had whispered with Sebastian behind the station earlier.
He raised a hand, and the officers fanned out like they’d rehearsed it.
His smirk was thin, razor-like.
“Nobody moves. Unless you want a hole somewhere important.”
I stared. I actually forgot to breathe.
“You… you were working with them too?”
He gave a half-shrug, like he was admitting he’d eaten someone else’s sandwich in the fridge.
“Since the beginning. You really thought you could slip through the Judicators’ fingers?”
Officers leveled their guns at me, Jack, Lucas—everyone except Sebastian.
Even Raymond, bleeding all over the floor, looked offended.
So much for hope.
It fizzled out like someone had blown out the last candle.
And then—because this night wasn’t ridiculous enough—one of the officers looked at Lucas, swallowed hard, and muttered,
“Uh… sir? The wolf is staring at me.”
The deputy chief rolled his eyes.
“He’s not going to jump at you—unless you give him a—”
Lucas growled, long and low.
The officer yelped and nearly dropped his rifle.
Not the twist we needed. But absolutely the one this cursed night deserved.
- Writer
