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Corey’s hold on my arm tightened as he dragged me away.
They’d all used a separate staircase to come into these underground chambers. This route led to the upper floors of the manor.
I still had no idea how Nick, Corey, and Caleb were here. For a moment, I wondered if I was still bound up in a dark cell and was dreaming of this chaotic rescue.
Caleb’s labored breaths told me this was no dream. Noah’s blood soaking my shirt felt very real. This was truly happening.
Soon, we came up onto a brightly-lit hallway. Nick was already on the far end, giving instructions to someone on the phone.
“The ambulance is on its way,” Nick said when we reached him.
“Are you sure you’ll handle everything here?” Corey asked as Caleb rushed away with Noah on his back.
“Yeah. Just make sure they’re okay.”
“Thanks, man.” Corey gave a grim nod and pulled me alongside him.
I looked all around me, taking in the vast, empty hallways of Beckett Manor. None of the men I’d seen earlier were present. Where’d they all gone?
I found Luke sitting on a plush couch in the entrance hall of the house. His face was beaten up so badly I could barely recognize it.
He lurched to his feet the moment he saw us.
I clutched onto Corey's arm at once.
“Don’t be scared,” he told me in a low, grim tone. “He’ll never lay his hands on you again.”
“What happened?” Luke demanded angrily. He hobbled over to us but maintained a safe distance. “Where’s my dad?”
“He’s dead,” said Corey.
Luke’s eyes widened as he stumbled backward.
Caleb moved over to a couch and dropped Noah on it.
Corey stepped away to help, putting Noah’s feet on the couch. Together, they tore his shirt’s sleeves, revealing an angry, crimson bullet hole in his left shoulder that was slowly but steadily oozing blood.
I stood in the same spot, watching them bind the wound with bits of their torn shirt. Noah lay unconscious, no longer groaning against the pain in his beaten, abused body.
He’s dying, I realized with a painful ache in my chest.
Guilt spread through me. How could I let this happen to him? He was already severely injured. I should’ve been the one to protect him from Bill.
Luke took his chance to get closer to me.
Grabbing my arm in a painful grip, he whirled me around so I was facing him. “What happened down there?” he asked in a hate-filled voice. “There’s no way my dad’s dead.”
“He’s dead,” I said, meeting his angry gaze. “Go check for yourself.”
He grabbed a handful of my hair and tugged hard, forcing me to look up at him. “Who shot him?”
“Does it matter, Luke? He’s dead.”
“Tell me!” he spat.
“I told you from the start,” I continued in a dead tone. “You shouldn’t have listened to your father. How could you think you’d get away with what you’d planned? Kidnapping, assault, murder. Those are all the ways you’ll land in jail.”
I was wrenched away from Luke’s hold.
