Page 54 of Damian
“But—”
“Now.”
Her door clicked shut again, the lock snicking into place, but I knew she was pressed up against it, listening. She’d always been like that—braver than she realized, but not stupid enough to leave me alone in the hall.
Another knock. Slow. Patient.
I tightened my grip on the pistol, my palms damp. My breath fogged in the cool air near the door, every nerve tuned to the voice I prayed wouldn’t come again.
It did.
“Morgan. You know how this ends.”
My stomach twisted. Damn, I was hoping I was wrong about him saying my name. He knewme.
I forced myself to sound steady, even as my voice scraped raw. “You need to leave.”
A chuckle slipped through the wood, low and mocking. “Not without you. You’ve been busy, sweetheart. Leaving a trail where there shouldn’t be one. My employer is very curious about you.”
My blood went cold. Luthor. It had to be.
I pressed my back to the wall, the pistol raised, the barrel shaking just slightly. “You don’t know what you’re walking into,” I warned. “The team—”
“Oh, I know about the team.” The voice sharpened, more amused. “They’re busy tonight, aren’t they? Miles away, kicking over the wrong nest. Which means it’s just you, little sister, and me.”
A thud rattled the door, hard enough to make the frame shudder. Ruby yelped behind her bedroom door, muffling the sound with her hand.
My heart slammed against my ribs. He was testing the locks. Testingme.
I leveled the pistol, aiming at the center of the door, breath steadying the way Damian had taught me. I didn’t care if my hands shook—I only needed to hold the line long enough.
“Damian,” I whispered, not into a phone, not into a recorder—just into the air. “Please hurry.”
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure the locks would hold.
73
Morgan
The next hit on the door wasn’t a test. It was an attack.
The wood shuddered, the deadbolt groaning under the strain. I stumbled back two steps, pistol raised, my breath jagged in my chest.
Ruby screamed from her room. Not loud—she tried to muffle it—but I heard it, and so did he.
“There she is,” the man outside said, voice curling like smoke through the cracks. “The sister. Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll be gentle. At first.”
Rage burned hot through my fear, snapping something inside me. “You’ll never touch her!”
The door rattled again, harder this time. A splinter of wood cracked near the hinge. My grip tightened on the gun, both hands braced the way Damian had shown me, knees bent, breath measured. I wasn’t going to panic. I wasn’t going to let him through.
Another slam.
The frame bowed. Dust sifted down from the top jamb.
Ruby’s door creaked open again, and she peeked out, her face white, tears streaking her cheeks. “Morgan—”
“Get back inside!” My voice was sharper than I meant, but she obeyed, retreating fast, the lock snapping again. I pressed my back to her door, planting myself between her and the front of the house.
