Chapter 14 #2
There has to be a way out. Air vents. Ceiling panels. Something. I try not to panic, but it feels like I’ve been in here an hour when it’s probably only been a few minutes. I’m searching the ceiling for a solution when I hear something.
There are voices outside. Shouting. Then alarm bells. It’s not a fire alarm, but evacuation warnings from a sophisticated home security system.
That’s the sound of chaos beginning.
The fire's started early, or something else has gone wrong. Either way, I'm running out of time. I throw my weight against the door. Once. Twice. The fucker doesn't budge. I try the hinges, but they’re reinforced and designed to withstand exactly this kind of assault.
The air's getting warmer. Smoke is seeping under the door, thin but present.
I'm going to die here. Trapped in Edmund Kingsley's estate, killed by my own uncle, unable to save anyone.
Just like my father. Just like everyone who's ever tried to say the word ‘no’ to the power-drunk maniacs of this town.
Then I hear footsteps running toward the storage room instead of away from it. Before I can thump on the door with my fist to get whoever’s attention, the lock disengages and the door flies open.
It’s a face similar to mine, except prettier, standing there, breathing hard, with soot on her face. "Move now, big head,” Talia orders. “The whole east wing is going up."
"How did you know I was in here?”
"Luca came to find me with tears in his eyes. He told me what Silas did and where to find you.” She's already pulling me toward the exit. "We need to go. The fires are spreading fast."
"Luca helped you?" I ask incredulously.
“He gave me back your gun, and now he's trying to evacuate people. Probably making up for being an idiot. We can process his redemption arc later. Right now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We're moving through corridors filled with smoke, past windows showing flames climbing the exterior, and toward an exit that might already be blocked.
“Where’s Peyton?" I ask, wondering whether she thinks Silas has done something to me or even cares.
“She was determined to come with me to find you, but I convinced her to go with the FC. I knew you’d never forgive me if I didn’t. So she's safe, but Blake, there are some board members trapped inside a room.”
"Where?"
“Helena’s people texted and said they’re in a conference room three floors down. There are at least six of them.”
“And you’re sure Peyton is okay?” Honestly, she’s all I give a fuck about.
“I promise she is.”
“Okay, then, against my better fucking judgment, show me where they are.”
We change direction, heading deeper into the burning building instead of out.
It's stupid, reckless, exactly the kind of heroic bullshit that gets people killed. But Talia explains that they’re only inside that room because of Peyton's speech.
“Her speech was so powerful that they felt compelled to immediately acknowledge her claim and hold an emergency vote.”
Damn, my girl did her thing.
Okay, there’s no way I’m letting them burn.
We find the conference room. The door's locked from the outside, and the heat is already making the metal too hot to touch.
"Stand back," I tell Talia. She's still holding my Glock, but I take it, aim at the lock mechanism, and fire three times.
The lock shatters.
The door opens.
Six men pour out, coughing, disoriented but alive.
"Out! Now!” I shout. "Follow her."
Talia leads them toward the exit while I check for more victims. The smoke's thicker now, dropping lower, making it hard to see, harder to breathe.
There’s a sound behind me. Its footsteps. I turn and find Silas standing in the hallway, blocking the exit, gun in hand.
"You couldn't just let them burn, could you?” he says. “Just had to play hero for some ridiculous reason. It couldn’t possibly be for the Quinn girl’s sake?”
“Maybe.” I shrug.
"Then die like a hero.”
He raises the gun. I'm already moving, diving sideways as he fires. The shot goes wide, hits the wall where I was standing.
A series of brief memories flashes in my mind. Silas and my father are taking me on my first hunting trip together. Silas and my father having a whiskey neat after every Christmas dinner. Silas feigns grief at my father’s funeral. The moment I suspect Silas is trafficking women.
I return fire. Two shots. Center mass.
Silas staggers, looks down at the blood spreading across his shirt with something like surprise.
"You shot me," he says, and starts coughing.
“Yeah, I shot you.” I move closer, gun still trained on him.
He's sinking to his knees now, hand pressed to the wound, blood seeping through his fingers.
"The family,” he starts.
"Whatever you think you were building this family into dies with you."
"Luca and Nico, they'll continue.”
"Luca just saved my life, and Nico warned us about your plan. They're done taking your orders." I step past him, toward the exit. "You die alone just like you lived. Tell my father I said hello.”
I leave him there, bleeding out in the burning building, and don't look back.
The hallway's an inferno now. Flames on the walls, ceiling collapsing, air so hot it burns to breathe.
I find the window, the one leading to the gardens.
Three stories up. No time for clever climbing.
I break the glass, look down at the drop, and jump.
The landing's brutal. My shoulder is screaming, my ribs are probably cracked again, but I'm alive. And somewhere in the wintery chaos of evacuating guests and emergency vehicles, I’m going to find Peyton and tell her what I should have told her from the beginning.
That I'm sorry.
That I love her.
That I'm done letting fear dictate my choices.
And that I choose her.
Every time.
I pull myself up, start moving toward the front of the estate where the crowd's gathering toward whatever comes next. Together or alone, I'm done running from what I feel.
I'm Blake Delano.
I saved six girls from White Ember, I burned my uncle's evil empire the hell down, and I chose the woman I love over the family that raised me. And I'd do it all again. Without hesitation. Without regret.
Because that's who I am now.
That's who I choose to be.