Chapter 6 - THE TRAP SPRINGS
I froze on the metal steps, my hand gripping the cold iron railing so hard my knuckles turned white. Dominic signaled for me to stay put, his expression hardening into absolute granite as he inched toward the frosted glass door of the office.
Inside, a man's voice sneered, “Tell us where the ledger is, little bird, or your pretty little life ends right here.”
Gemma's voice gasped back, defiant and trembling, “Go to hell.”
Before I could process what I was doing, the memory of my mother—always waiting, always trusting the wrong men to save her—flashed through my mind. I wasn't going to sit back and wait to be rescued.
I grabbed a loose piece of iron pipe leaning against the wall and slammed it against a metal locker nearby. The deafening CLANG echoed through the massive warehouse like a gunshot.
“Hey!” I shouted toward the office door, my voice echoing off the concrete floors. “The cops were called five minutes ago! You're surrounded!”
Chaos erupted inside the room. A curse echoed, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Before the men inside could react, Dominic kicked the office door off its hinges with a tremendous crash, his weapon raised.
Two men scrambled toward the back window, but Dominic fired a single warning shot into the ceiling that brought plaster raining down, freezing them in their tracks.
I rushed past him into the small, messy office. Gemma was tied to a metal chair, her clothes stained with dirt and dried blood, her face pale, but her eyes bright with stubborn fury.
“You took your sweet time,” Gemma croaked, letting out a hysterical, watery laugh as she saw me.
Dominic holstered his gun with chilling speed, stepping forward to slice through the heavy zip-ties binding his sister's wrists with a pocket knife. He didn't yell at her, but the look he gave her carried a lifetime of unspoken terror and fury.
“You stupid girl,” Dominic said softly, his voice shaking slightly as he pulled her into a fierce, protective embrace.
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Gemma buried her face in his shoulder, finally letting down the walls of her bravado. But as I watched them, a movement near the broken window caught my eye. One of the captors hadn't fled—he had slipped behind a stack of crates near the exit, leveling a silenced pistol directly at Dominic's back.
“Dominic!” I screamed.
