Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2)

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Where Shadows Linger (Intertwined Souls Series Book 2) Page 25

by Mary D. Brooks


  Muller focused on Henry. Gesturing with the gun, he motioned for Henry to move away from Eva. Henry took one step to his left and stopped, glaring at Muller, who had already directed his attention back to Eva.

  “You are nothing. You have no family since you spat on your grandfather’s grave with your filth. How could you do this to me, to him, to your grandmother!” Muller ranted, spittle flying. He stepped closer to Eva and looked into her eyes. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as sweat slowly dripped down the side of her face. “You are dead to me. You died ten years ago.”

  “Don’t listen to him, Evy, don’t!” Zoe found her voice and yelled in Greek. Rhimes grabbed her tightly to hold her back.

  “Shut up!” Muller turned to Zoe and levelled the gun at her. “Shut up!” He cocked his gun and appeared on the verge of shooting.

  “You always were a coward,” Eva yelled to get Muller to turn away from Zoe. It worked. He turned towards Eva, angry at her words. “Before, you would send Reinhardt to do your dirty work. Even now you need someone else’s help.”

  “I’m a war hero!” Muller screamed at Eva and took her by the hair. He slammed her head backwards against the wall. Muller, only inches from her face, held on to her black hair. “You are going to die!” He screamed and slammed her head back again. “Get down on your knees.”

  “No,” Eva said as she leaned against the wall. Blood was now running freely from her scalp. She wiped her tears and defiantly stood her ground, her chin held up proudly. Unfortunately, she could not see Zoe because Muller was blocking her view, and Eva desperately wanted a last glimpse of her. She knew this was the end for both of them and, if she had to die, she wanted to see Zoe’s face as she let God take her soul into His care.

  “No? My, haven’t we grown bolder?” Muller turned and went to Zoe’s side, putting the muzzle of his gun against her chest. The sound of the weapon cocking was very loud in the stillness of the room. “You decide. You obey me or you see this deviant die before you do.”

  Eva and Zoe stared at each other for a long moment. Eva wilted, then very slowly stepped forward and sank down on her knees. Her gaze was still locked onto Zoe, who, she could tell, was still feeling the effects of being hit in the head.

  “I love you.” Eva declared her love for Zoe knowing it was going to infuriate Muller.

  “You both disgust me.” Muller shook his head as if trying to clear an unwanted vision from it. He stood in front of Eva, grimacing. “Apologize before you die.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Muller asked. He seemed absolutely dumbfounded that Eva would even ask the question. He grabbed her by the chin and peered into her eyes, as though seeking an answer there. “Why? You are a disgrace. You disgraced me. That’s why!” he raged. Droplets of spit flew into Eva’s face, but she did not flinch at his rage or at the spittle that wet her cheeks. “You are nothing but filth!” he screamed. “Apologize to me!”

  Eva took a shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and surrendered to whatever was in store for her. She opened her eyes and gazed up at Muller. In that moment she knew what she had to do, and she was going to die fearlessly and not cowering. She smiled despite the blood that was dripping from her nose and lip, causing Muller’s good eye to widen. “I’m sorry—”

  “No, Evy...” Zoe cried.

  Chapter Thirty

  Eva spared a glance at Zoe and blinked. She started again, still with a smile on her face. “I’m sorry that you’re not dead,” she said. She used to cower whenever Muller raised his voice to her, afraid that if she even looked at him, he would become enraged and strike out. That was in the past. She was no longer a cowering teenager, desperate to avoid her father’s wrath. She looked at Muller and realized what a truly pathetic figure he was — an arrogant creature who had no basis for his pride, a thing of sound and fury that signified nothing.

  Muller growled, “That wasn’t the apology I was looking for.” He tried to hit her. Eva swayed out of the way, allowing his fist to brush past her.

  “Kill her and let’s get out of here,” Rhimes said. “I’m getting tired of the charades, Hans. We have a boat to catch.”

  “Shut up!” Muller angrily replied to Rhimes. He cocked his gun and aimed it at Eva’s upturned face. He fired.

  Click. The sound reverberated around the room. The gun had jammed.

  “Guns jam when you fire them at her,” Zoe yelled out, and despite Eva’s pleading look, she laughed, only to get another knock to the head from Rhimes.

  Muller scowled. Eva grimaced. Henry had had enough and started to rush Muller. His momentum was stopped just as soon as he moved when Klaus fired his gun and struck him in the thigh, bringing him down. Eva tried to get to her feet but Muller struck her with the butt of his gun and sent her sprawling to the floor.

  “Evy!” Zoe screamed. Muller stood over her, cursing at the gun. Henry had fallen at Earl’s feet and the two of them were trying to stop the bleeding.

  Muller’s gun went off, but the bullet missed Eva’s head and slammed into the wall behind her.

  “Kiss my boots!” he screamed at Eva.

  Eva glanced down at Muller’s black boots and then back up at Zoe, who was giving her a sympathetic look. Muller stood in the perfect spot and Eva’s heart was racing.

  “Do it!” Muller screamed, looming over her with his feet planted apart. He aimed his gun at her and waited for his final command to be done.

  Very slowly, Eva bent down and placed her hands on the rug between Muller’s boots. Bending forward as if to comply with his demand, she instead clasped both hands together, locking them tightly into a double fist. In one continual movement, she leaned back, sweeping her hands upward, bringing her fist into sharp contact with Muller’s groin, and putting her weight into the blow. She enjoyed a moment of triumph when he crumpled forward, his face scarlet, his mouth opening and closing in a soundless protest against the agony in his privates.

  In the confusion, Earl picked up the nearest thing to him — Zoe’s cricket bat that had been left near the door. He threw it at Rhimes, who yelped in surprise. Rhimes’ reflexes were quick enough to help avoid the blow, causing the bat to strike the wall harmlessly. Nevertheless, Earl had created a distraction.

  In the same instant the bat was flying across the room, Eva bent back to the floor and pulled hard on the rug under Muller’s feet. The well-polished wooden floor allowed the rug to slide forward easily. Muller, already unsteady on his feet, fell backwards and the gun flew out of his hand. The weapon hit the floor butt first, and it discharged loudly and struck Klaus, who collapsed.

  Never one to hesitate, Zoe took the opportunity, after the cricket bat was swatted away by Rhimes, to stomp hard on Rhimes’ foot. He cursed and instinctively reached for the injured appendage. Earl jumped him and took him to the floor, getting in a punch to the stomach on the way down. Earl’s movement unintentionally caused Zoe to be shoved aside.

  A gun went off. The bullet hit the nearby wall.

  Earl tried to wrench the weapon away, but Rhimes hung on determinedly and got to his feet.

  Eva scrambled away from Muller, who was disoriented. He groped for his gun. Tears of pain rolled from his good eye and curses streamed from his mouth.

  Eva ducked a flying stool, propelled by Earl and Rhimes’ battle. It crashed into the wall near her and broke apart, showering her with wooden splinters. Earl’s fist connected with Rhimes’ cheek, and Rhimes staggered, still keeping hold of the pistol.

  Hearing her name, Eva looked up to see that Zoe had stood up and was holding the fireplace poker like a sword. “Catch!” Zoe yelled and hurled the poker at Eva, who caught it easily, adrenaline lending her speed and strength. She turned her attention back to Muller. He was on his knees, reaching towards her ankle.

  Eva kicked Muller in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. He clutched his bloody mouth, and she raised herself to her full height and held the poker in both hands. She stopped and looked down at him for a moment, then lo
wered the poker until the tip dented the soft flesh of his scarred throat.

  To Eva’s surprise, she could see fear in his visible eye. She took a deep breath and looked down at her tormentor. The poker, one of the two instruments with which he had beaten her to near death, reminded her of the pain he had caused her. The desire for vengeance was screaming inside her. She wanted to push the poker through his neck, but she hesitated.

  Despite all the dreadful things he had done to her, all the torments of mind, body, and soul, a part of Eva recognized the man who had been her loving and beloved father so long ago. She was also very aware of Zoe’s presence. Zoe would have celebrated Muller’s death at Eva’s hands, considering it vengeance well paid, but Eva could not do it. She refused to let him taint her soul any longer. His blood would not be on her hands. Let others deal with Hans Muller, let the greater justice be served in the name of his many victims. She had overcome him at last. This personal victory was enough for her.

  Muller sneered and seemed about to shove the poker aside when Zoe came to stand beside Eva. On her way over, she had found Muller’s gun and was now squatting in front of him and pointing the gun at him, her aim unwavering in spite of her recent tumble. “I wish I could end your miserable life. I want to blow off the rest of your face,” she screamed into his face. He tried to grab the gun, but Zoe easily swatted him away and struck him with the butt of the gun.

  Still locked together in battle, Earl and Rhimes crashed through the balcony doors onto the terrace. Earl connected his fist to the German’s jaw, knocking Rhimes unconscious and leaving him on the balcony floor amongst the broken door and splinters of glass. Earl raced over to Zoe, who was still aiming the gun at Muller. “Bloody hell,” he muttered and wiped the blood from his nose. “I’ll take that.” He plucked the gun from Zoe.

  Eva stood on wobbly legs, not quite believing what she had done. It had only been moments ago that she was helping a drunk and sick Zoe into their apartment. She took a few steps away from Muller and leaned against the nearby wall, which was smeared with her blood, for some much-needed support. Zoe walked closer, put her arms around her, and squeezed tightly. They held onto each other, Eva stroking Zoe’s back.

  Both of them were relieved beyond words that they were still alive. Just then, the door burst open, making Eva instinctively raise the poker again. She was ready to defend herself and Zoe against this new threat. Too shaken to recognize friend or foe, she saw only a gun and swung the poker down.

  The poker struck Friedrich’s wrist hard enough to cause him to drop his gun. Thankfully, it did not discharge. David, following his friend into the room, had to duck when Eva took a swipe at the next intruder she saw. Fortunately, the poker missed him and crunched into the doorframe, taking a small gouge out of the wood.

  “Wait!” David yelled, raising his hands in surrender.

  Elena appeared in the doorway, gaping in amazement while Eva stood with the poker in her hand, breathing heavily. “I think I missed something,” Elena said, her eyes wide. Friedrich, who ended up on his knees in pain, was holding his injured wrist and cursing loudly. When Elena focused on him, it only took her a second before she cried out his name and dropped to the floor to comfort him. When David joined her, she turned to Eva and Zoe, who were now sprawled on the floor leaning against the wall. Both were bloodied.

  “Are you all right?” Elena asked, touching Eva’s arm. “We heard a gunshot and all the other sounds of this insanity.”

  “We’re all right now,” Eva said. Zoe, who had been dislodged from her initial hug when Eva went back into her defensive mode, wrapped herself around Eva again. They had slid down the wall, both of them trembling in shock. “I think Friedrich needs some help, though.” Eva indicated the young man lying on the floor a few feet away, now being comforted by David.

  Elena surveyed the assorted bodies and looked down at Eva, who now was cradling Zoe in her lap. “You’re bleeding.” She rushed to the kitchen to grab a towel and quickly came back. She went down on one knee and held the moistened towel against Eva’s head. Eva nodded and held the towel against her head.

  “Who is that?” Elena asked, pointing at Muller.

  Eva grimaced. Running footsteps could be heard outside the corridor, and moments later Father Haralambos and Mrs. Jenkins entered the debris-strewn apartment.

  “My God!” Father Haralambos exclaimed as he surveyed the damage. He turned to see Eva and Zoe and dropped down to his knees. “My child, are you alright?”

  “I am now,” Eva replied and closed her eyes as the pain in her head was now making her sick.

  Father Haralambos stood and shook his head. He walked over to the prone Muller, who was trying to stand up. Earl had his gun aimed at him, and David was tying Rhimes up out on the balcony. Father Haralambos’ eyes gleamed unpleasantly. “Well, if it isn’t Major Muller. Remember me?”

  Muller looked at him for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was thick, and blood droplets sprayed out of his mouth. “No.”

  “Father Haralambos.” He smiled serenely.

  “Father Haralambos? You’re supposed to be dead.”

  “So are you,” Father Haralambos replied. “Yet you are here and still alive in my daughter’s apartment.”

  “I know she’s your bastard child.”

  “He knew?” Zoe’s eyebrows rose and disappeared under her hair. “You sick bastard. You knew all along?”

  “Yes, this wretched man knew all along.”

  “Father,” Eva said quietly. It was a half-hearted admonition, because she felt Father Haralambos’ controlled rage—she could see what control cost him in the rigid set of his shoulders. “He doesn’t deserve to know about us.”

  Father Haralambos bared his teeth at the fallen man. He was about to move away but glanced back at Muller, his contempt clear. “This time I will not turn the other cheek. May God forgive me, but I hope the fires of hell torment your soul for the rest of eternity, Hans Muller.”

  Eva understood it was not the priest who condemned Muller, but the father filled with anger against the man who had fractured his daughter’s soul.

  “Bastard,” Father Haralambos said, still glaring at Muller, having to release the last of his anger. He turned back to Eva with a sheepish grin and put a hand over his mouth.

  “Father H!” Zoe exclaimed and started to laugh.

  Eva shook her head. She grabbed Father Haralambos’ hand and tightened her other arm around Zoe, still in her lap.

  Eva felt like her world was beginning to return to a norm she hadn’t felt in some time. She glanced around the room. Mrs. Jenkins and Elena were helping a grimacing Henry slowly sit up. Friedrich had cradled his injured wrist to his chest and was clearly in pain. She could see David handcuffing a very dazed Rhimes.

  “Eva, what is going on here?” Mrs. Jenkins exclaimed, gazing around in disbelief at the damage in the room.

  “Um...” Eva blew out a shaky breath and tried to find a good excuse for the two Nazis and two government investigators in various states around the apartment. She could not find an explanation except the truth. She was about to speak when Father Haralambos interrupted.

  “Come with me, Nelly, we need to have a little chat,” he said as he came up behind Mrs. Jenkins and steered her out of the apartment. He winked at Eva, who was very relieved to have been spared the landlady’s histrionics.

  Eva turned her attention to the woman in her arms. Zoe was sporting a developing bruise just under her eye. “I so enjoy these quiet evenings,” she quipped. They started to laugh in slightly hysterical relief until they were both breathless, and their hilarity turned to murmurs of mutual comfort and thankful tears that they were both still alive.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The curtains fluttered and a stiff breeze rattled the windowpane as lightning illuminated the darkened bedroom. Eva was lying down and staring up at the ceiling with a smile on her face. They were back from the hospital, where they had been taken by the police. Her head had needed
a few stitches, and Henry was kept overnight, as was Friedrich.

  Thunder boomed in the distance a few heartbeats later. Eva put her hands behind her head and sighed contentedly.

  It had been quite an evening with Muller and Rhimes ambushing them in the apartment. The man responsible for all her pain had stood before her, and she felt unable to respond until she found the courage to face him. She had found the strength to look him in the eye and confront him, even defeat him and end his threat forever.

  The fear that gripped her heart when she first saw him was something she was acquainted with, but the strength to stand up to him was a new revelation. A laugh bubbled out and she tried to stifle it because she did not want to wake Zoe, but she could not control herself. For many years, she had dreamed of the time when she would be able to stand up to Muller, to say “no” to him, and openly defy him. Now she had.

  She had known she had to overcome her fear of him. Even when she thought he had died in Larissa, she still carried a fear that wouldn’t go away. Years of abuse had made her doubt her own abilities and strengths, and had stripped her of all dignity. All those doubts and fears had melted away when she saw the love and absolute faith that Zoe had shown. The fact that Muller had hit her had only strengthened her courage, but it was Zoe’s faith that had truly made the difference.

  Zoe had galvanized Eva into making a stand, one she was sure would be her last, but she had found the courage to defy Muller for both their sakes. It had been a surprise to him as well, when the words had come out of her mouth. Her fears had been all-consuming, and yet, when she had looked into Zoe’s eyes, she had decided to fight with every ounce of her being. Eva was no longer the cowering little girl or the terrified teenager who had been brutally tortured for being a lesbian, for being who she was.

 

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