Chapter 9 - Caleb's Final Stand
I thought it was over. I really did. I drove back to the brownstone, looking forward to finally sleeping in a bed without keeping a gun under my pillow.
But as I pulled my car into the detached garage behind the house, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The silence was too thick.
I stepped out of the car, leaving the door open.
"Hold it right there," a shaky voice echoed from the shadows of the garage.
Caleb stepped into the dim light of the overhead bulb. He was holding a cheap revolver, his hands shaking violently. He looked terrible—pale, sweating, and completely unhinged.
"You ruined everything!" Caleb screamed, spitting as he spoke. "Dad is gone! The money is gone! Aegis fired me this morning because someone leaked my file! It was you, wasn't it?!"
"Put the gun down, Caleb," I said, my voice dangerously calm. I didn't reach for my weapon. I kept my hands visible. "You don't know how to use that, and you don't have the stomach to pull the trigger."
"Shut up! You always thought you were better than me!" he cried, raising the gun higher. "You stole Auntie's house! You stole my future!"
"You stole your own future the day you decided to be a thief," I replied.
I started walking toward him, slow, deliberate steps.
"Stop!" he shrieked. "I'll shoot! I swear to God!"
"No, you won't."
I closed the distance. When I was two feet away, he finally panicked and squeezed the trigger. But I was already moving. I swiped my arm outward, redirecting the barrel as the gun went off with a deafening BANG, the bullet shattering the garage window.
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Before he could react, I stripped the hot revolver from his grasp, spun him around, and slammed his face into the hood of my car. I zip-tied his hands behind his back in one fluid motion, leaving him sobbing pathetically against the cold metal.
"I told you," I whispered in his ear. "Never offer your enemy the rope."
