It All Started With Hate

lock | part 2 (e)

Yet, out of everything, I had expected...this was the one that stunned me most.

Instead of futilely struggling, though, darkness blanketed his expression over. It reached its peak when Luke dropped his hands just for a second before jamming his fingers into the attacker's eyes. The assailant screamed in agony, allowing Luke to grab him by his shoulders and slam him onto his rising knee, resulting in a sickening crack.

Holy shit.

I was awestruck. Genuinely. 

I knew that underground fighting didn't exactly teach 'fair fighting,' but they definitely taught enough to be considered useful in different situations. Luke had been there for nearly a decade, and had won enough matches to get to where he was now, and I could see those same lessons and matches coming back even harder, now. I also knew that he had helped train Kade, who was one of the best, for his fight against Chivo all those years ago, but I had never actually considered why until now.

A gunshot brought me back, and I continued to watch, ignoring the gore for survival's sake. I knew that seeing and hearing all of this would have an effect later on, but the rush of adrenaline and the will to survive made me not give a fuck.

When the law handled it, these men were set free without any further consequence, and they knew that. They hurt me as a child, because they knew what their consequences would be: none. I was done.

They deserved every bit of what occurred today. I didn't give a shit if I sounded like a maniac. It was either kill or be tortured and killed, right now, and I wouldn't hesitate in making sure Luke and I survived this. I could worry about the rest later.

Luke had mentioned eight men; now only two or three remained. The tactics had shifted; they were hiding, and Luke had adapted, knowing my role in locking them in rooms.

The house fell silent, unsettling me. It meant someone was planning, likely the mastermind. My father remained elusive. He was hiding from Luke on purpose.

I looked to my phone, again, but I didn't see any live bodies inside. Luke remained as silent as the house, but was just as alert, so I knew he was having the same suspicions as me. They were either hiding in the spots that the cameras didn't catch, or they were outside.

I went with the second option first, and hurriedly went to the live footage on the outside of the house. As soon as it loaded, I studied the angles over, carefully. It was harder to decipher since it was night time, but when I caught the tall, looming figure in our backyard, I froze.

All we had back there were tons of Fang's toys and summer furniture, but I couldn't miss it. By the bushes, right under the kitchen window, another man stood. I spotted the glint of his gun in his waistband in the moonlight, but that was all I needed to see.

Because, from his position, he had a clear shot on Luke, who was in the fucking kitchen.

Breathing became a foreign concept, replaced by panic, frustration, and the realization that I couldn't get out of this room to warn Luke or prevent what was about to happen.

No.

Fuck that. I was hardheaded for a reason. I was getting the fuck out of this room, by any means necessary.

Only over my dead body would I let anything happen to Luke. I didn't give a damn if he didn't like it.

I jerked myself out of bed, casting a quick glance around the room.

Idea. I needed an idea on how to get out of the room, but—

When I looked at the window, I knew that Einstein didn't have shit on me.