Page 101 of The Masked King

I’m almost there when the hatch closes, plunging me into darkness.

What the fuck! “Gio?” I bang on the hatch with the gun. “Don’t do this! The fucker is mine!”

Nothing.

“Demi? Let me out!”

Seconds pass, and all I can hear is my labored breathing over the continuous gunfire which feels like it’s miles away.

Then Demi calls out, “Enzo? What happened?”

“Gio shut me in! Let me out, Demi.”

There’s a pause, and my fuzzy brain tries to figure out what’s going on up there, what’s taking them so long to open the hatch. Is Demi convincing Gio to get me out? But it feels all wrong; Gio wouldn’t do that to me, not where Demi is concerned. It would be like locking him in a room and expecting him to sit tight while I protect Meggie and the twins.

“It won’t move.” I hear the panic in Demi’s voice through the floor. “It’s stuck, Enzo.”

“It can’t be. I opened it before. Where’s Gio?”

“I’m right here.” My brother’s voice, usually so calm, has a brittle edge that jars my back teeth. “I didn’t shut you in.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

If he didn’t shut the hatch, there’s only one other person it could’ve been. I locate the burner phone in my pocket, fumble with it to switch on the flashlight, and aim it at the hatch above my head. I can’t see a lock from this side, but when I thump it with my fist, it doesn’t budge. It’s solid.

The only way I’m getting out of here is by blowing up the hatch above my head or the door to his secret escape route and risking the house caving in on me.

“This is why you always need a Plan B.” I hear Gio’s voice inside my head.

“Never needed one before,” I think out loud. “Demi, move away from the hatch.”

I pull the explosive device from my inside pocket and shine the flashlight on it as gunshots ring out directly above me.

“Demi!” I bang the hatch with my gun, knowing it’s futile. “Leave her alone, you fucking coward! I’m the one you want.”

Silence.

Then three bangs on the other side of the hatch echo inside my head and send ice slithering down my spine. They sound like someone stomping on it with a heavy boot.

“Sit back, Mr. Sabatelli. I’ll let you out in good time.” It’s Malevsky.

“Where’s Demi? If you’ve touched her⁠—”

“You’ll what? Shoot me through the hatch?” He’s enjoying this. “Why don’t you try it? Give it your best shot, and I’ll tell you when you miss your target.”

I’m not wasting my bullets on a trapdoor; they have his name on them, and I won’t miss when the time is right.

“Where is she?” I demand.

I want him to tell me that he doesn’t know where she is, that she got away, that our little stunt helping her escape won’t cost us; this would be the best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario will be finding out that she’s trapped with him, and I can’t reach her.

On cue, something—or someone—lands on the hatch with a thud that reverberates inside my rib cage.

“Get your hands off me!” Demi yells. “Enzo? Are you⁠—”

Her voice is muffled as though her captor has covered her mouth with his hand, and I instinctively aim the flashlight at the hatch as if it might illuminate her on the other side. Where the fuck is Gio? He was supposed to get her out of here, and I refuse to believe that he’s dead.

“What do you want, Malevsky?” I yell.