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“Give us the guns, and we’ll let you leave with your old man. No further harm will come to either of you,” Leone offers, but the glint in his eye tells me he is lying.
“Nice try, but I’ve played enough games for one lifetime.”
“Or maybe…” Leone’s words trail off as he takes a calculated step closer, clearly trying to unsettle me.
“Stay back!” I warn, tightening my grip on the weapons. My heart hammers against my rib cage, each beat palpitating erratically.
Leone’s lips curl into a smirk. “Do you really have it in you, Fallon? To pull that trigger? To take a life?”
“Better question,” I counter, my mind racing with adrenaline. “Do you have it in you to doubt I will?”
My finger twitches on the trigger, a hair’s breadth from unleashing chaos. I could almost see the headlines now: “Dealer Dead in Basement Showdown” or worse, “Father Killed, Daughter Follows.”
In the thick silence, the drip of my blood seems as loud as gunfire, and Leone’s eyes never leave mine, calculating, predatory, waiting for that moment of doubt, that flicker of fear.
I won’t give it to him.
“Dad, get up. I need you to get to Emma!” I tell him while kicking the dropped gun toward him. Hearing her name snaps him out of his shock, and he looks up at me, but then quickly averts his gaze.
“What happened to Emma?” he murmurs, ripping off the blindfold before horror washes over him at seeing me bleeding, only to realize I’m naked. He averts his gaze.
“I’m fine, but Emma won’t be if you don’t get up!”
“She can have her surgery. They found a heart. But you need to get up.” My father glances at me, then Milo and Leone.
“Take the money, Dad. Just take it and go,” I snap. My hand trembles, betraying the facade of control I am desperate to maintain.
The familiar ache in my chest flares as I think of my sister lying on a hospital bed, fighting for her life—my younger, innocent sister who knows nothing of the danger we are in or the dangerous men we’ve found ourselves associated with.
“I’m not leaving you here with them,” Dad manages to choke out.
“Yes, you are. Emma needs that surgery; it’s her only chance. So you need to take the money and go!” I tell him with finality in my voice. I’m good as dead anyway, and if I break my promise to Emma, it will be for a good reason, not just me not showing up.
He doesn’t move to take the bag. He stands frozen, caught between Leone’s looming figure and the exit that promises escape.
“Listen to your daughter, old man,” Milo interjects, his voice a blade cutting through the tension. “She’s offering you a way out. Be smart.”
“Fallon, please,” my father finally says, his voice strained.
“Go!”
My father swallows but snatches the bag and gun, then rushes for the door. Leone doesn’t stop him, but he laughs like he thinks this entire ordeal is funny. “Ring your men and tell them to let him pass. I’m not stupid; I know they’ll grab him when he steps out those doors,” I tell him.
“For entertainment purposes, sure thing,” Leone answers. My brows furrow, and Leone does what I say. If I don’t get a call saying Emma has gone in for surgery, I will shoot them.
NINE
FALLON
I’m barely conscious when my father calls me about an hour later. I jolt at the sound of the phone, my head had been resting on the wall where I sit, struggling to keep my eyes open.
“Fallon,” my father says.
“What?” I groan in agony as the adrenaline wears off.
“They said her surgery was already paid for,” I sputter at his words.
“Payment was processed an hour after Dr. Stevens called you last night, here I’m waiting for them to finish up.”
