But all I can see is them.
Leo and my father are in the center of this carnage, circling each other like wolves sizing up prey.
They’re both hurt, bloody, and barely standing but too stubborn or too determined to fall.
Leo’s shirt is torn and soaked with blood on his left side. I can’t tell if it’s his blood or someone else’s, but there’s so much of it. His face has a cut across the cheekbone that’s still bleeding, dripping down his jaw. His knuckles are split and raw, covered in blood and his right arm is hanging slightly wrong. It’s not broken but definitely injured. But his eyes are focused, laser-sharp, locked on my father with the kind of intensity that means he’s about to kill someone. His guns are steady despite everything, both pointed at my father’s head.
My father looks worse.
There’s a gash across his forehead that’s dripping blood into his eyes, making him blink rapidly to clear his vision. His left arm is hanging at an odd angle, and it’sdefinitelybroken or dislocated. His shirt is torn open and I can see bruises blooming across his ribs, dark purple and yellow. He’s favoring his right leg, but he’s still holding a gun in his right hand and a knife in his left, and his face?—
Fucking hell, hisface.
It’s twisted with rage I’ve never seen before. My father, who prides himself on always being calm and three steps ahead of everyone else—has completely lost control.
He looks feral and broken. It scares the shit out of me.
“Shechoseto stay?” he roars, taking an unsteady but determined step closer to Leo. “You brainwashed her! Manipulated her! Used her! My daughter would never?—”
“Your daughter has a mind of her own,” Leo snarls. “Something you never bothered to notice.”
“Don’t youdare—” my father starts, but his voice cracks. “Don’t you dare tell me about my daughter! I raised her! I protected her! I gave her everything!”
“Everything except the freedom to choose,” Leo responds.
“I willkill you!” my father screams, and I can see his finger tightening on the trigger. “I will kill you and everyone you’ve ever?—”
Leo’s finger is tightening too, and I gape at it in horror.
They’re going to do it. They’re actually going to kill each other right here. I’ve come too far and fought too hard to watch this happen.
I didn’t escape that fucking panic room just to watch the two men I love most in the world kill each other.
“Stop!”
21
EMMA
The word rips out of me, loud and commanding and furious, echoing through the destroyed hall.
And it works.
Both of them freeze. Actually they freeze mid-motion, like someone hit pause on a movie. Leo’s fingers are still on the triggers, but he’s not pulling. My father’s gun is still raised, but he’s not firing. They’re both just…stopped.
And staring at me.
For a second—one perfect, crystalline second—no one moves. No one breathes. The entire world narrows down to this moment, this room and us.
I can see the exact moment they register who I am. What I am. That I’m here.
Leo’s eyes go wide. His face cycles through shock to confusion before landing on fury.
My father’s face does something similar but in reverse. Relief first—his daughter is alive, is standing, is okay—then confusion—why does she have cuts and burns on her—then rage.
At Leo.
Then my father takes a step toward me, his gun lowering slightly. “Emma! Get away from him! Get away from himright now!”