Page 43 of The Gilded Cuff
Nana smoothed her hands over her pants and pointed to the barstools. “Sit, you two.”
“Nana, can I have a Coke?” Fenn asked, crawling up the tall wooden stool to sit at the huge marble island. Emery joined him, so their elbows knocked together. On the verge of scuffling again, they shot each other mutinous looks and simultaneously balled their fists.
“Emery,” Nana warned. She’d knocked their heads together more than once when they stepped out of line.
His cheeks flushed with heat. “Sorry.”
He and Fenn settled down to eat, sipped their sodas from the bottles and watched the guests pass by the kitchen windows. The Lockwood mansion’s kitchen had an ideal and rather unusual location in the house. One entire side of the kitchen had large windows that faced the gardens, giving the cooks something to watch when taking breaks between meals. There was one door that led directly outside to the gardens and it was on the left side of the room, near the walk-in pantry.
Outside, strains of music filtered through the air, mixing with the cicada songs and cricket symphonies. Muted laughter warmed Emery’s ears with the pleasant melody of happiness. Dad. Something was making him laugh.
Fenn’s eyes locked on the windows facing the gardens. “Nana, can we go outside? Puh-lease?”
“No Fenn, sweetheart. You boys ought to be in bed. You have tennis lessons tomorrow at eight-thirty.” Nana ruffled a hand through Fenn’s golden hair. He wrinkled his nose and pulled free of her touch like a disgruntled puppy. Emery snickered at the expression on his brother’s face.
Fenn narrowed his eyes and glared at Nana. “I’m not a sweetheart.” He used the imperious tone their father employed when answering his work phone in the study, sounding very stern, all businesslike and no nonsense.
Nana only grinned. The laugh lines around her mouth and eyes crinkled.
“So like your father. No wonder you drive your mother crazy.” She picked up the plates and set them in the sink before heading to the pantry. Fenn followed her, ready to argue his case.
Emery turned his attention back to the windows facing the gardens. Women danced on the marble patio, their gowns swirling around their ankles in bright colors. Men in suits held them, spinning them around and around, in a whirling world of light and life.
Suddenly the door leading in from the gardens opened and the only warning he had that something was wrong was Nana’s gasp and Fenn’s muffled cry. Emery turned just in time to see three men dressed in black and wearing masks enter the kitchen through the open doorway. The world around him came to a grinding halt. He was suspended in terror as he saw Nana rigid and scared. Fenn, eyes wide, was held prisoner by one of the men. The music from the party muted into near silence; the only sounds were the raging thunder of Emery’s heart and the scuffle of boots behind him. He tried to flee but a gloved hand clamped around his mouth, and an arm curled around his throat in a chokehold as he was hauled back into a huge body.
“Please!” Nana was gasping. “Please don’t hurt them. They’re only children!”
The man holding Emery swung around in the direction of Nana’s voice. Emery glanced wildly about, seeing his brother being held by the scruff of his neck, a hand silencing him too. A third man strode toward Nana, a black gun in his hand.
Cold black eyes, like onyx stones, fixed on Emery. The gun barrel pointed at him for a moment before the man turned back to Nana.
He was going to hurt her. Bile rose in Emery’s throat and he swallowed it down. He had to do something, anything.
An ancient instinct to survive surged through Emery. He clawed, hissed and fought like an angry bobcat. The arm around his neck tightened. Black spots grew in slow increments across his vision until he was on the edge of darkness. Aching pain swept through his arms and legs, then they went numb. Emery had no strength left to fight and only then did the hold on his neck ease. Glorious air flowed back into his lungs, and he gasped like a goldfish that’d accidentally leapt out of the bowl.
“Why are you doing this? What do you want? Money?” Nana’s arms were raised up in surrender, but her gaze kept flashing to the boys, checking to see if they were all right.
Emery wished he could tell her that he loved her too. But the hand around his mouth prevented any sound. Tears stung his eyes, and he blinked them away, his vision blurry.
The armed man strode right up to Nana and without so much as a warning, struck her temple with the butt of his gun. She went down like a rock, blood splattering the white tile floor by her head. Emery’s throat burned as his strangled scream was silenced by the gloved hand.
“Stupid bitch,” the man with the gun muttered. “Come on, we’ve got the brats. Let’s go.”
He flicked the gun barrel toward the back door. Emery was lifted off the ground and held tight. Ahead of him he could see his brother was being carried the same way. They were halfway out the back door when Fenn somehow got loose and dropped to his feet. He scrambled backward and reached the knife block on the counter, pulling a blade out to swing at their attackers.
Fenn didn’t hesitate. He struck, sinking the knife deep in the leg of the man who’d carried him. The man bellowed and swung at him like an enraged man-eating black bear. Fenn ducked, and the man’s hand swiped the soda bottles off the counter.
The sharp explosion of glass made everyone freeze.
Everything happened so fast after that. The man with the gun skirted around the counter, caught Fenn by the throat, and ripped the knife away from his hand.
“You little bastard!” He backhanded Fenn, but didn’t release him. Fenn’s head snapped to the side. A red hand-shaped mark quickly formed across his cheek.
Trapped, immobile, silenced, Emery couldn’t scream, couldn’t move. He was unable to defend his brother. It was, to that point, the single worst moment of his life.
The lively sounds of the party offered a haunting backdrop to the horror before him. Their parents and guests were only a short distance away, yet all were unaware of what was happening. His captor moved outside, walking past the other man, who once again lifted Fenn.
Emery freed one hand, reaching for his brother.
