Chapter 9 - The Final Stand
Seeing Grace bruised and tied up shattered every terrible theory I had about her betraying me.
She hadn't abandoned us at all; she had gone out to try and eliminate Vanessa on her own and failed.
"She put up quite a fight for a simple housekeeper," Vanessa mocked, pressing the barrel of a silver gun directly to Grace's head.
"Now, sign the papers, Evan, or I paint this dirt with your sister-in-law's brains."
I looked at the contract on the ground, then up at the dark tree line where I knew snipers were likely waiting.
I slowly lowered the crowbar, raising my hands in a universal gesture of absolute defeat.
"Okay, Vanessa, you win," I said, my voice intentionally hollow and broken.
I took a step forward, dropping to one knee to pick up the expensive pen she had thrown beside the contract.
"That's a good boy," she taunted, her eyes shining with greedy, unchecked triumph.
I touched the pen to the paper, but my eyes flicked up to briefly meet Grace's unwavering gaze.
She gave me a microscopic nod, a silent signal between two people who understood violence perfectly.
Instead of signing my name, I grabbed a huge handful of loose dirt and flung it directly into Vanessa's eyes.
She screamed in sudden pain, firing her gun blindly into the air as she stumbled backward.
I lunged forward, tackling the first thug and driving the heavy crowbar straight into his kneecap.
He went down howling, and I snatched his dropped pistol out of the air before it even hit the ground.
I spun around and fired twice, dropping the second thug before he could raise his automatic weapon.
The deafening cracks of gunfire echoed terribly through the otherwise quiet forest.
Vanessa rubbed furiously at her eyes, finally regaining her vision just as I pointed the gun directly at her chest.
"It's over, Vanessa," I growled, my finger tightening slowly on the trigger.
Suddenly, the deafening sound of a helicopter's rotors chopped through the air, vibrating the very ground beneath our feet.
A heavily armored chopper descended quickly above the clearing, kicking up a massive cloud of dust and debris.
The side door slid open, revealing half a dozen men pointing assault rifles directly at my head.
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A voice boomed over the helicopter's loud speaker, chilling my blood to the bone.
"Drop the weapon, Mr. Whitaker, or we will open fire on the cabin."
