Page 131 of My Fault

“Easy, now, Ella, he’s not going to do that. We know where they are. I promise, he’s not going to do anything,” my father said, trying to calm her down.

“What’s happening? Where are they going?” I asked.

“We were able to access the cameras at the club. They’re there, Nicholas. The officers are headed over now.”

My entire body froze in panic.

“I’m not sticking around here then,” I said and turned toward the door. A hand stopped me.

“You’re not going, Nicholas,” my father said sternly.

What the hell was he saying?

“I’m not staying!” I shouted, pulling away from him and running down the stairs. Some of the cops were already gone, departing for a mission that might end my girlfriend’s life.

“Raffaella!” my father shouted behind me. As I turned, I saw Noah’s mother coming toward me.

“Take me with you, Nicholas,” she said, crying uncontrollably, but with steely determination on her face.

I looked hesitantly at my father, who came up to us with the expression of a man frightened but completely under control.

“I’m not going to let him hurt anyone else in this family,” he roared, grabbing Raffaella’s elbow. I knew he was just as scared as we were. Nothing like this had ever happened to us before. The way he was looking at Raffaella was exactly like the way I looked at Noah, and I would have reacted no differently if she had been determined to take off for the scene of a kidnapping.

“I’m going, William Leister, whether you want me to or not. This is my daughter we’re talking about!” she shrieked in desperation. Her sobs eventually got the better of him.

I looked back at him.

“I’m going, Dad. Don’t try to stop me.”

In desperation, he replied, “Fine. But let’s go with the cops.”

Ten minutes later, we were crossing the city followed by three police cars. Listening to them exchange information over the radio was fraying my nerves. Some officers were already there and casing the exits.

We arrived quickly, and the patrol car went straight to where they were expecting Noah’s father to come out. The police fanned out around the door. We could hear the noise inside…and when I heard shots, I got out.

The cop next to me clutched my arm.

“Stay here,” he said.

I did as he ordered, staring at the door Noah would come out of, wondering if she would be hurt when she did.

We didn’t have to wait long. After ten tense minutes, the doorflew open, and Noah and her father appeared, blinking with surprise at the detachment there waiting for them.

Noah was hurt…bleeding.

I felt someone grabbing me from behind. I hadn’t even realized I’d tried to take off running.

“Noah!” I shouted as loudly as I could. Her teary, terrified eyes turned toward mine. Her father was holding her with one hand while with the other, he aimed a revolver directly at her head.

“Drop the gun!” one of the cops shouted through a megaphone.

I clutched my head in despair. That bastard was saying something, and the terror on Noah’s face awakened a killer instinct I never knew I could feel before that moment.

I was going to kill him. I was going to kill him with my bare hands.

“Drop your weapon and put your hands on your head!” someone shouted.

After that, everything happened quickly, though my eyes saw it all in slow motion.