by Stella Hart
My brows furrowed as I considered my next move. Obviously, I didn’t have a keycard or a code for the electronic lock, so I couldn’t let myself in. I couldn’t press the buzzer at the door either, because I wasn’t expected or welcome in the secure wing, and the second someone saw me standing there, they’d sound the alarm with Edward.
I had to find some other way into the wing.
As I pondered the issue, the door opened at the end of the hall, and a short, squat security guard stepped out. I moved around the corner and peered around it, watching as he drew closer. I could just make out an ID card hanging from a loop on his belt.
That was my way in.
I pulled out my cell phone and lowered my eyes, pretending to be focused on the screen. Then I waited for the guard’s footsteps to draw closer.
When I could tell he was only a few feet away, I stepped around the corner and purposely barreled into him, knocking him right on his ass. As he fell, I swiftly stuck my hand out and ripped his keycard off his belt.
I stuffed it in my jacket as the guard spluttered on the polished floor. “Whoa, sorry,” I said. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“No shit,” he said, face turning bright red as he lifted himself back up. “Open your fucking eyes next time. You almost broke my hip.”
I flattened my lips and scrubbed a hand over my face. “Look, I’m really sorry, man,” I said. “I just got some shitty news from my uncle’s doctor, so it’s kind of hard to pay attention to anything right now.”
The guard’s face softened. “Sorry to hear that. Just try to keep an eye out from now on, okay?”
I nodded and waited for him to turn the corner. Then I headed down the hall as fast as I could in the opposite direction. It was only a matter of time before he realized his keycard was missing, and I needed to get into the secure wing before it happened.
I reached the sliding glass door at the end and spotted a black card slot next to the green button Clara mentioned earlier. I slid the security guard’s keycard into the slot, chest tightening as I waited for it to work. My shoulders slumped with relief as the lock emitted a beeping sound and flashed a green light at me.
The door slowly slid open. I stepped inside and looked around. I was in some sort of waiting room with chairs arranged around the wall and a low table in the center with magazines scattered across it. A faint smell of disinfectant and bleach hung in the air, and everything was silent aside from the whoosh of the door sliding shut behind me.
A wide hall on the right side of the waiting room led farther into the secure wing. Before I checked it out, I fiddled on my cell phone for a moment and slid it into the front pocket of my jacket so that the camera was peeking right above the fabric.
Once that was sorted, I slowly headed down the hall, peering around corners as I went. I finally spotted a person briskly stepping down another hall. It was a middle-aged woman in blue scrubs. She instantly looked familiar.
I tried to place her, and then I realized she was friends with my mother. Her name was Selina Redstone.
Based on that surname alone, I knew I needed to follow her.
She hadn’t seen or heard me yet, so I ducked around a corner and watched where she went. She headed halfway down the hall and turned left at a door. Then she lifted an ID badge that hung from a lanyard and used it on the electronic lock.
As the door slid open, a shout echoed through the hallway. I briefly turned my head to see the security guard from earlier dashing toward me. He must’ve noticed his missing card and realized what I’d done, and he had the keypad code to get into the wing without it.
He also had a gun.
As he shouted at me, a piercing scream rose from beyond the door that Dr. Redstone had just unlocked. I recognized the voice immediately.
Alexis.
22
Alexis
Edward patted the top of my head like I was a small child. “It won’t be long now,” he said. “In a minute you’ll get a sedative to put you in a twilight state, and then you’ll get the full dose of anesthesia once we’re in the theater. I promise you won’t feel a thing.”
His lips were still twisted in a cruel smile, but it was his eyes that scared me the most. Flat, unblinking, and staring right at me.
The nurse on the other side of the room stuck a needle in an ampule and started heading back over to us, gaze focused on my IV stand. At the same time, Dr. Redstone opened the door and stepped into the room. “The surgical suite is ready,” she said, smiling faintly at Edward.
As she spoke, a masculine shout from somewhere outside made my ears prick up. The door was still partially open, and an arm shot through it a second later, preventing it from closing again.
A man stepped inside, jaw clenched and hands bunched into fists at his side.
Nate.
Dark spots appeared in the corners of my vision, and I lost the ability to hear everyone’s voices over the sudden thunderous rush in my ears.
It couldn’t be Nate standing in the doorway. It was just a dream, or a hallucination caused by a flood of adrenaline.
I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I saw Nate’s mouth open as he stared at me. He seemed to be shouting my name, but I still couldn’t hear anything over the rush of blood in my ears.
The nurse passed the ampule to Dr. Redstone and charged at Nate. Nate swung a fist at him and clocked him in the jaw and throat in quick succession, sending him to his knees. Then he grabbed him by the shoulders and smashed him into the wall, eyes burning with fury. The back of the nurse’s head took the brunt of the impact, and he slumped onto the floor, eyelids fluttering shut.
My fuzzy brain finally started to register sounds again. I heard Edward barking orders at Dr. Redstone. I also heard more shouting from somewhere outside the room.
Dr. Redstone pulled the syringe out of the ampule and ran toward Nate, holding it high in the air. He twisted her arm, took the syringe, and jammed it into the side of her neck before pushing down on the plunger. She screamed and pulled the needle out, but it was too late. Her legs were already wobbling. Soon, she’d be slumped on the floor, out cold.
“Help!” Edward shouted as a security guard rushed into the room. “This man is attacking us!”
The guard glared at Nate and drew a pistol from his belt. He stepped forward, holding it in front of his barrel-like chest. “Stop right there, or I’ll shoot,” he said, aiming the gun right at Nate’s heart.
The two men were only a foot apart. If the guard fired, Nate would be shot at point blank range. He wouldn’t survive that.
No one would.
Nate didn’t lift his palms in surrender like the guard obviously expected him to do. Instead he steeled his jaw and brought his hands together from opposite sides, almost like a clap. One hand grabbed the barrel of the gun and twisted it to aim diagonally upwards while the other struck the guard’s right wrist in a chopping motion. The guard let out a grunt of pain, and the gun popped right out of his hand and flew onto the squeaky-clean vinyl floor, skidding along until it came to rest beside the coffee table on the other side of the room.
Edward hurried toward it. For an old man, he was surprisingly sprightly, and within seconds he was crouching on the floor to retrieve the gun.
“Nate!” I weakly called out, struggling to sit up. “Watch out!”
He didn’t seem to hear me. He was too busy fighting with the security guard now that he was disarmed. He punched him in the jaw, sending him flying backward, and then he grabbed his head on either side and smashed it into the door, making him crumple to the floor.
“Nate!” I screamed again, wildly flailing my right arm to get his attention. Edward had risen to his feet now, gun clutched in both hands.
He aimed it right at Nate, who noticed a split-second too late. He was too far away to disarm him. If he tried to rush toward us, Edward would pull the trigger and blow a hole right through his chest.
“Well, what do you know, Alexis? Looks like your knigh
t in shining armor showed up after all,” Edward said, smiling thinly. He cocked the trigger. “It was a mistake, though,” he went on, aiming his stony gaze at Nate. “As soon as I’ve killed you, we’ll proceed with the surgery. I’m getting that liver for Deborah, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”
Nate’s shoulders tightened like they always did when they were tense, but his expression remained calm. “You can shoot me if you want,” he said. “But there’s something you should know first.”
Edward scoffed. “What?”
Nate patted his jacket pocket. “See my phone?” he said, raising his brows. “It’s live-streaming everything that’s happening. I have a lot of people on my friends list, and I bet they’re all watching and linking it to their friends as we speak.”
Edward’s face remained impassive. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“I can prove it.” Nate slowly pulled his phone out of his pocket and showed us the screen. It was too far away for me to make out any details, but I could see emojis flying up the side of the screen as people reacted to the stream. “Most of the viewers probably think it’s some sort of joke, but I bet a few of them are taking it seriously. Some of them might’ve even called the police.”
“You’re bluffing,” Edward said, eyes narrowing. “There’s no live stream. That’s just a random video.”
Nate took a couple of steps forward, still holding the phone out. “It’s definitely live, Edward. See?” he said, cocking his head. He briefly glanced at the screen himself. “Over five hundred people are watching this right now, and judging by the comments, at least three of them have contacted the police. We both know they can’t ignore this. Not when it’s happening right in front of everyone.”
Edward’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Then he cleared his throat. “What you’re doing is illegal,” he said stiffly. “This island falls under Washington state law, and that includes two-party consent to recordings. Everything you’re filming is inadmissible.”
“If a recorded conversation conveys threats of bodily harm, it becomes admissible, even without two-party consent. You’d know that if you ever took a freshman law class,” Nate said, lifting a brow. “Everyone just heard you threaten to kill me, and they heard you talking about operating on Alexis without her consent, too.”
Edward swallowed hard. “I… but…”
He didn’t seem capable of forming a sentence beyond that.
Nate took another step closer. “You can still shoot me if you really want to,” he said calmly, lifting the phone to aim the camera at Edward again. “But there’s no point. In five minutes, this place is gonna be crawling with cops. Give it a day and everyone in the world will know what you’ve done. They’ll know you tried to kill your own granddaughter to take her liver for your sick wife. They’ll know you were partially responsible for the original Butcher killings, too, along with the current ones, and they’ll know you set up an innocent man—Peter Covington—and made him take the fall. They’ll also know you were responsible for at least two thousand other murders over the last several decades, and they’ll know all about the organ trafficking scheme your family started. And finally, they’ll know the names of every single other Avalon family who was involved in it. Montgomery, Rosewell, Chabert, Redstone, Holland, Ellesmere, Van Zandt, Goulding, Perrier, Marin, Adamson… and, of course, my own family. The Lockwoods.”
Edward stared at Nate for a long moment. Then a tiny smirk tugged at his thin lips, and the defeated look in his eyes faded. “You think you’ve won,” he said in a low voice. “But you haven’t. Not by a long shot.”
“Why’s that?” Nate asked, forehead wrinkling in a disbelieving expression.
“You might have me, and you might have Selina,” Edward said, nodding toward the unconscious Dr. Redstone. “But in regard to your other accusations—you don’t have a shred of evidence. If you did, the world would already know all about it. So, as soon as this little film of yours goes viral, those families you mentioned will sue you for slander, and then they’ll spend the rest of their lives making your life a living hell.”
Nate smiled thinly. “I don’t think so. Nice try, though.”
Edward’s upper lip curled into a snarl. “Tell me,” he said. “What unshakeable proof do you think you have?”
“I have Greg. My uncle.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Gregory Lockwood is dead.”
“He’s not. My mother helped him fake his death,” Nate said. “He’s been hiding for the last ten years, and now he’s willing to testify against the rest of your organization in return for some sort of plea agreement when all of this goes to trial. My mother will do the same. They’ll be able to name names. Give details on the operation. Tell the feds where to look for any remains.”
Edward’s face paled slightly. “You’re lying,” he said. His hands were trembling around the barrel of the gun now.
“I’m not.” Nate clicked something on his phone screen and held it out again. “I have a photo,” he said. “Look. It’s Greg. His hair is grayer now, but it’s him. You can’t deny it.”
Edward stared at the photo, thunderstruck. “But… I... that isn’t possible,” he stuttered. “I can’t…”
While he was stunned into immobility, I took the opportunity to muster up my remaining strength and fly into action. I ripped the IV line out of my left arm with a pained grimace. Then I got off the bed and punched Edward right in the groin.
He grunted with agony and keeled over. As he did so, he accidentally fired the gun in a slanted shot that went right into the ceiling. The gun flew out of his hands after that, and he collapsed to the floor with a groan as plaster rained down on his head.
Somewhere in the distance, an alarm began to sound.
I saw Nate mouth two words at me as he grabbed the gun. Good girl.
I grabbed the long plastic IV line and used it to tie Edward’s wrists behind his back as he moaned on the floor. As I did that, Nate aimed the gun at him. “It’s over, Edward,” he said. “Don’t bother trying any bullshit. After what you did to Alexis, I won’t hesitate to shoot you right in the fucking face.”
My grandfather frantically shook his head. “Wait! Please! I… I can help.”
“Help?” Nate raised a scornful brow.
“I have records of everything. It’s all in my study at home. In the safe. Everyone who was ever involved in the operation is mentioned in there. Everyone who purchased organs, too,” Edward babbled. “You… you don’t understand. I was forced into it. The other families… they made me let them use my hospital. They said they’d kill me if I refused, and they did the same to my father!”
“We both know that isn’t true,” I said, nostrils flaring as I glared at him. “Your family were the ringleaders.”
“Thanks for the information about the records, though,” Nate added. “I’m sure that’ll make the FBI’s job a lot easier.”
Edward slumped with defeat on the floor, spluttering and groaning. I ignored the pitiful sounds and stepped over to Nate, eyes wide with wonder. “How did you get Greg and Annalise to talk?”
“Hold on. Let me turn off the stream.” He turned his phone off and slipped it back into his pocket. Then he grinned. “I didn’t get Greg to talk.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, brows puckering. I could hear sirens in the distance now. It wouldn’t be long until the police showed up.
“I was lying,” Nate said. “Edward was the one who ordered Greg’s death ten years ago, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to think that Greg was willing to testify against him and the rest of the Golden Circle as revenge. So I made all of that shit up. I figured it would shock him long enough for you to get him to drop the gun, and it worked.”
“How’d you get the photo of Greg in the bunker?”
“I took it before we went to the Mayfair last week,” he explained. “I was worried something might happen to us, so I wrote down everything we knew and put it in an email
with some photos of Greg as proof. If we didn’t make it home from the Mayfair by the next afternoon, the email would’ve automatically gone to Colette, along with instructions on where to find all of Greg’s murder tapes.” He paused and rubbed his jawline. “I didn’t tell you about it when I did it because I didn’t want to make you worry even more.”
“You thought of everything,” I said, voice barely above a murmur. I took a step closer. “And you found me,” I added. “Again.”
Nate took my right hand in his. “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he said gruffly. His gaze drifted to my chin and back up to my eyes again. “It’s all going to be okay now,” he went on, squeezing my hand tighter. “Everyone’s going to know what really happened. They’ll know your dad was innocent.”
“I know,” I said, voice thick with emotion. Tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes. “Thank you.”
He scrubbed his free hand over his chin. “Alexis, I…”
He trailed off, brows furrowing. I took another small step forward, closing the gap between us. “I know,” I whispered. “Me too.”
We didn’t need to say it. Not right now; not while sirens were wailing and my grandfather was groaning on the floor right next to us. We just needed to feel it. See it in each other’s eyes.
Nate pulled me into a tight hug. As I nestled into his arms, I felt his breath on the space between my shoulder and my neck, and I let out a soft sigh of contentment. Having him this close to me felt like coming home—a warm mix of comfort and safety.
A moment later, as the sirens grew louder, I pulled away from the hug, tilted my head upward and bit my bottom lip. Nate stared down at me, eyes burning with intensity. He gripped my chin and moved his face closer.
This time, I didn’t need to go up on my tiptoes to kiss him.
He was already kissing me.
23
Nate