Chapter 9 - The Final Strike
It was Lena.
Her clothes were torn, and she had a frantic, deranged look in her eyes.
She pointed the hitman's gun directly at my chest.
"Put the kid down," she ordered, her hands shaking wildly.
"Where is Derek?" I demanded, shielding Noah with my body.
"He's busy taking a nap with my useless boyfriend and the masked idiot," she sneered.
"Now put him down, or I swear I'll shoot you both."
Red and blue police lights suddenly flashed through the bedroom window.
The piercing sound of sirens filled the entire neighborhood.
"It's over, Lena," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"The police are outside."
"There's nowhere to go."
"I can use the kid as a shield to get to my car," she said frantically.
"They won't shoot if I have him."
She took a step closer, raising the gun to aim at Noah.
My muscles tensed, preparing to rush her and take the bullet if I had to.
But Lena had made one massive miscalculation.
She forgot to check her corners.
A bruised and bloody hand shot out from the darkness of the adjacent bathroom.
Derek stepped out, grabbing Lena's wrist with one hand and her throat with the other.
He twisted her arm violently.
Lena screamed as the gun fired a wild shot straight into the ceiling.
Derek didn't stop.
He swept her legs out from under her and slammed her hard into the floorboards.
The gun skittered across the hallway, safely out of reach.
Derek placed his heavy knee on her chest, completely pinning her down.
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"I told you," Derek breathed heavily, looking at me.
"I've got your back."
