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“I’m getting the fuck out of here, and you’re going with me. I’m not letting them punish me. I deserve that money. It’s mine!”
I can’t argue with someone with a gun to my head. I hiss with pain, praying that security, Michael’s family, or someone can get this nut off of me before she hurts me or anyone else. I don’t even know if Michael is hurt from those shots or even if he’s still alive.
Somewhere in the background, Michael’s mother is screaming like a siren. That is not a good sign. Not at all.
Then, suddenly, Michael is standing in the hallway with us, cutting off her escape. I see him upside down as she grips my hair, stern as iron, and his own gun pointed at her head.
“Let her go,” he demands.
“No. I’m taking her hostage, and we’re getting out of here. You can’t stop me.”
“I can fucking shoot you.” Michael’s voice goes even more terrifyingly flat, and my heart jumps into my throat.
Her voice lowers to a hiss. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You’ve got my woman at gunpoint. You betrayed me. You robbed me. You betrayed this fucking family. And now, you’re opening fire in our home, trying to kill a witness, and then trying to kill me. You really think we’re going to let you get away with that? How can you possibly believe that?”
“You’re my brother!” Her voice cracks with a mix of what sounds like outrage and emotional pain.
“You’re not my sister. You’re some bitch who betrays her own family and blames everything on other people! Now, let her go!” I hear him thumb back the hammer of his revolver.
Their family spills out into the hallway. Billy’s trying to calm things down. His dad is barking orders for both of them to drop the guns. His mom is begging him not to shoot her precious baby.
Maria finally lets my hair go, and I scramble backward across the slippery parquet floor away from her. “Oh, God,” I mumble, and then, Michael steps between us and his father and brother with him.
Suddenly, my heart’s not pounding even half as hard.
“Now, you’re going to tell us where the money is,” Michael growls.
Maria starts sobbing. Their mother is still begging Michael to stand down. He ignores their distress, and despite it all, I can’t blame him.
“It’s in the Caymans!” she wails. “You piece of shit, making me give it back on top of everything else!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” her father demands. “You robbed us, here, you are shooting up my house, taking hostages... trying to kill the one witness against you right in front of me, like that’s going to make me not suspect you somehow?”
“Drop the damn gun, Maria, honey,” Billy sighs like he’s telling a small child to drop a permanent marker.
“Him first,” she snaps, but Michael holds steady with the gun on her.
Her father steps forward and gently takes the gun from her. She stares at him, then at me, and then bursts out into tears and falls to her knees.
Her mom sees her like that and almost goes to her, her arms out and her eyes full of grief. But she doesn’t come over. Instead, she simply asks her daughter, “Why? Why did you do this?”
“I don’t know.” Maria gulps and looks down. I can’t tell if she’s lying or not. Maybe she really doesn’t know. Maybe she’s too far gone.
I get up slowly and go to Michael, who is still pointing the gun at her, his face white with rage. I put my hand on his arm gently. “Michael,” I murmur. “Come on. It’s over. She’s caught, they’re convinced. You don’t need this anymore.”
“She tried to fucking kidnap you,” he growls.
“I know. But she’s still family, and I don’t think she’s in her right mind.”
He looks at me, and then sighs and slowly lowers the revolver. He puts it away but keeps a hand free just in case as he hugs me tight.
“Sir,” one of the guards tells Michael’s father. “Cleary has collapsed from all the excitement. What do we do with him?”
“Drop him at a hospital and have him watched. We’ve gotten what we need from him.” Michael’s father looks spent. His wife comes to him, and he holds her, but distractedly, as he stares down at his daughter.
“What about Maria?” Michael asks sternly. His mom flinches.