Chapter 80
CHAPTER EIGHTY
Lily
The panic room feels smaller every second I stay in it. Like the steel is closing in. Like the air is thinning. Like I’m trapped inside my own heartbeat. I won’t let my anxiety kill the man I love.
On the monitor, Mom moves in and out of frame. Dad is still on the floor, his chest barely rising. I can’t tell if he’s conscious or just… hanging on by a thread.
And she knows that. She watches him like a timer.
“Open the door, Lily,” she calls softly. “Be a good girl. Come to me.”
My hands tremble as I wipe my cheeks, forcing myself to breathe through the nausea clawing up my throat. In. Out. In. Out. Just how Drago taught me.
Dad’s voice echoes in my head, broken and fading.
Be brave… for me…
My fingers curl into fists.
I stare at the release panel. At the camera feed. At the blood on the floor outside my room, and I make my choice. At my mother’s face when she looks up into the lens, eyes bright with sick devotion, like she’s watching her prophecy unfold.
And something inside me… shifts.
My father isn’t dying, so I can hide behind steel. I’m not letting Maria take me either. There is another way. There has to be.
My father taught me how to survive as a kid. The world has tried to break me down. I’m not letting that happen to me again. And I’m not going to let her take me like I’m some prize she gets to claim.
My gaze flicks to the storage shelf built into the wall, stocked because Drago designed it to withstand the end of the world.
Weapons line the wall.
My stomach twists again as I step toward it, forcing my shaking hands to steady. I slide my fingers along the shelf until they close around cold metal.
A handgun.
My breath catches as I lift it, my palms sweating instantly, my pulse hammering so violently it makes my vision blur.
I know how to shoot. I could take a shot at seven years old. I don’t have time to think about how terrified I am. I don’t have time to be soft.
I pull my sweater tighter, tucking the gun against my stomach, hiding it beneath the fabric, pressing it into place until it sits snug and unseen.
Then I inhale, head back to the door, and press the release.
The locks disengage with a low, heavy clunk. The door swings open.
Maria turns instantly, her smile blooming like she’s been waiting for this exact moment.
“There you are,” she purrs, stepping closer, her voice warm. “My brave girl.”
I force my face to crumple. I let my lips tremble. Let my tears fall as if I’m surrendering. I step out barefoot, shaking, clutching my sweater around my body like it can hold me together.
“I’ll come,” I whisper, voice broken. “Just… please. Help him. Please don’t let him die.”
Her expression softens, and it would almost look real if I didn’t know what she was. “Sweetie, Drago will fix him up when he gets back. We need to move.”
My stomach turns at the indirect threat she’s reminding me of. Drago. I swallow it down.
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll do what you want.”
Her eyes gleam. “That’s my girl,” she says softly. “That’s my future leader.”
She gestures with Dad’s gun, the barrel dipping toward the stairs. “Walk,” she orders, still sweet. Still calm. “We’re leaving.”
I nod quickly, wiping my face, stepping around my father's body without looking at him because if I do, I’ll break. I’ll scream. I’ll lunge for her.
I can’t break yet. Not yet.
“Where are we going?” I ask quietly, letting my voice shake.
Maria leans in close to my ear as we reach the top of the stairs. “Somewhere safe,” she whispers. “Somewhere Drago can’t reach you.”
My blood freezes.
We move down the stairs, her footsteps light behind me, her presence heavy as a hand on the back of my neck.
I make myself stumble once, just enough to look fragile.
She catches my arm, steadying me. “Careful,” she murmurs. “You don’t want to hurt yourself.”
I almost laugh. I almost vomit. Instead, I nod, guiding her through the house towards the back door.
Freedom, if I can get far enough.
Or death.
I push it open, and the cold air hits my face like a slap. My lungs seize.
She steps out behind me, gun still in hand, scanning the yard as if she owns it.
“We’re going out this way,” I whisper, casting a glance back over my shoulder. “The back gate… it leads to the woods.”
Maria’s eyes flick toward the gate at the far end of the garden, half-hidden by shadows and hedges.
Interest sparks in her gaze. “Smart,” she murmurs. “Always smart.”
I walk ahead, slow and obedient, shoulders hunched, my hands clasped in front of me, the damp grass on my feet.
But one hand stays pressed against my stomach, holding the weight of the gun beneath my sweater, keeping it steady, keeping it hidden.
The gate grows closer, and blood pounds in my ears.
Maria stays two steps behind, close enough that I can feel her heat. Close enough that if I falter, she’ll grab me.
“If you do what I say,” she murmurs, voice curling around me, “we’ll fix everything. You’ll be safe. You’ll be powerful.”
I nod, pretending the words are sinking in. Pretending I’m hers. That I’m stupid enough to believe her cult bullshit.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Okay, Mom.”
She doesn’t deserve to be called that anymore, but I do it to keep up with the lie.
The gate is right in front of me now. I reach for the latch with shaking fingers, playing my part down to the smallest detail. I pull it open. I need her away from Drago. Away from this house.
It creaks softly, the sound barely louder than a breath.
Maria steps closer, and I feel her smile against the back of my neck as she leans in. “That’s it,” she whispers. “Soon we will be at our new sanctuary, Lily.”
I step through the gate first, and I keep walking, leading her into the tree line. Hoping for some kind of miracle and that my adrenaline doesn’t wear off too soon.