"Scarlett, you don't need to do this," Daniel said. His voice was a low, steady anchor against the rising tide of my panic. Despite the black muzzle of the gun leveled at his chest, he didn't flinch.
He shifted a fraction of an inch, a subtle movement that kept me shielded behind the breadth of his shoulders.
"Think about the math. Murder? You'll spend the rest of your life rotting in a cell."
"Only if there's a witness to testify." Scarlett's smile was terrifyingly serene, her eyes bright with a feverish sort of light. "And there won't be. Here's the headline, Daniel: The Predatory Professor and the Disgraced Student. A forbidden romance turned into a murder-suicide. Tragic, really. The police will find the two of you tucked away together, along with a suicide note on your laptop admitting to the whole sordid affair."
"No one is going to buy that," Addison choked out, her voice vibrating with terror.
"Won't they?" Scarlett pivoted the weapon toward her friend.
"I have photos of them sneaking around, the witnesses I've paid to remember things that never happened. By tomorrow morning, your reputations will be as dead as you are. Case closed."
Daniel's hand found mine behind his back, squeezing hard—a silent signal. "You've planned for everything, Scarlett. Except for the fact that you're not nearly as smart as you think you are."
Scarlett's face contorted, her serenity shattering into raw, jagged rage. "Grab them!"
The room exploded.
Daniel shoved me toward the rear exit with a force that nearly sent me off my feet. "Run, Brooklyn! Don't look back!"
I saw the three football players lunge. Daniel met the first one head-on, his elbow connecting with the guy's jaw in a sickening crack. Addison screamed, hurling her phone at Scarlett's face. It didn't do much damage, but it bought me the second I needed.
I burst through the back door and hit the cold night air. My lungs burned as I fumbled the phone from my pocket, my thumb frantically swiping to dial emergency services.
No service.
Shit!
I waved the phone at the sky, desperate for a single bar, but the campus network was a void. Scarlett hadn't just brought muscle; she'd brought a jammer. I was digitally invisible.
The heavy, rhythmic thud of boots hit the pavement behind me. I didn't look back. I sprinted across the quad, the shadows of the gothic buildings stretching out like claws. My mind raced toward the old gymnasium—a labyrinth of locker rooms and bleachers.
I threw myself through the gym doors, the heavy oak groaning on its hinges. Inside, the air smelled of stale sweat and floor wax.
I scrambled beneath the bleachers, pressing my spine against the cold steel supports, trying to stifle the sound of my own ragged breathing.
The doors creaked open again. Heavy footsteps echoed off the polished hardwood—slow, deliberate, terrifying.
"I know you're in here, Brooklyn," a voice boomed, mocking. "Scarlett just wants to talk. Make it easy on yourself."
Liar. I checked my phone one last time. Still dead. I was a ghost in a dark room.
I slunk toward the far exit, but a hand shot out from the shadows, clamping around my ankle like a bear trap. I shrieked, lashing out with my free leg. My heel connected with something soft—a nose, a cheekbone—and the grip loosened. I scrambled away, but he was faster. He tackled me from behind, my head slamming into the floor. Stars danced across my vision.
"Got her," the guy grunted into his own radio.
"Gym. North side."
Desperation gave me a sudden, jagged burst of strength. My fingers brushed against a stray basketball. I gripped it and swung upward with everything I had. It hit him with a hollow thunk, disorienting him just long enough for me to roll out from under his weight.
I didn't stop until I reached faculty housing. I buzzed Daniel's apartment until my finger throbbed. When the latch finally clicked, I took the stairs three at a time.
Daniel was in the bathroom, the sink running pink as he washed blood from his knuckles. His shirt was shredded, a jagged cut weeping red over his brow.
"Brooklyn," he gasped, pulling me into a crushing embrace. "I thought... I thought they had you."
"I got away. But we can't call out. My phone is useless."
"I know," Daniel's jaw set. "I checked the security hub in the lobby on my way in. The camera feeds are on a loop. Black screens. She cut the hardlines before the hit. There's no record of the fight, no record of the gun. Just her word against ours."
"So what do we do?"
"We disappear. Tonight. Just like I suggested before." He snatched a bag from his closet and began loading it with clothes. "We get in the car, drive to the state line, we find a lawyer, figure out how to battle this from another city."
"That's what she wants, Daniel. If we run, we look guilty."
"If we stay, we're dead!" He stopped packing, despair in his eyes. "Brooklyn, she had a gun. An actual gun. This isn't blackmail anymore. This is not about ruining our reputation. She's willing to kill us."
My phone which was miraculously still in my pocket buzzed. An unknown number texted me.
I opened it, and my blood went cold.
It was a picture of my dad and stepmother, asleep at home in their bedroom. The photo had been taken from the inside of their home. Tonight.
Unknown: Run and they die. Meet me at the old warehouse on Riverside Drive. Alone. Both of you. One hour. Or your families get to join the fun.
"Oh my God." My hands trembled so much I very nearly dropped my phone. "She's at my parent's house. She's threatening to kill them."
Daniel's face went white as he read it. "This is a trap. Obviously a trap."
"I don't care! She's in their house, Daniel!" Tears streamed down my face. "We have to go. We have to."
Another text came through. This time, a photograph of another woman.
Unknown: Tick tock. 58 minutes now. Don't test me.
Daniel looked at the picture, something in his face breaking. "She's insane. Completely insane."
"We have to go. We have no choice."
"It's a trap," he repeated, but already he was rifling through the drawstring bag, extracting his car keys. "She'll murder us as soon as we walk in.
"So we don't then go in unarmed." I opened his kitchen cabinet drawers and found the largest knife I could. It was not much against a gun, but it was one second. "And we don't go in stupid. We scout the location first. Look for exits. Make a plan."
Daniel snatched up another knife, his face transforming into something hard and determined. "If we're going to do this let's make sure that we do it intelligent. Everything we've said we take pictures on Addison's phone. We get Scarlett's confession. And if we're going down, we're taking her with us."
Forty-five minutes later, we were outside the empty warehouse, rain beginning to chill. The house was menacing and evil, all of the windows broken, every inch defaced with spray-paint.
"Last chance to run," Daniel whispered.
"Not without my parents. Not without your mom." I squeezed his hand. "Together?"
"Together."
We kicked in the rusted door and strode into the blackness.
The warehouse was huge and dark, old machines cast shadows everywhere. The sound of our steps bounced on to the concrete beneath us.
"Hello?" I called out. "Scarlett? We're here!"
Lights blazed on, blinding us. Uncle Tom Uncle Tom uncletom@rocketmail. I shook my head forcefully and, when it cleared again, Scarlett was standing on a catwalk above us with the gun still in her hand. Chloe, holding a tablet, stood at her side.
"Just in the nick of time," Scarlett said, beaming. "I knew you'd come. Love makes people so predictable."
"Where are our families?" Daniel demanded.
"Safe. For now." She nodded to the tablet Chloe was holding. "Live feeds to both houses. And my men are on cue, ready to go! One text from me, and. Silent scum!" holding up his free hand as though it were a gun and making another mad dash. "Bang."
"What do you want?" I said, the steadier I could make my voice.
"Want? I want you to live in pain, the way I lived in pain." The smile was gone from Scarlett's face and in its place was cold hatred. "I want you to feel what it's like to lose everything. Your loved ones, your futures, your lives. Everything."
"We'll do whatever you want," Daniel said. "Just let them go."
"Oh, I know you will. See, here's the game." Scarlett aimed the gun at me. Brooklyn, you're going to call the police and tell them that Professor Anderson has been stalking you, threatening you, blackmailing you into sex. That he kidnapped you and brought you here tonight."
"What? No."
"Yes. Or I'm texting my friends and your parents just die. Your choice." She threw a phone down at me. "Make the call."
I grabbed the phone, my mind racing. If I did that, Daniel would go to prison for crimes he didn't commit." But if I didn't, it would be death.
Daniel grabbed my hand. "Don't. Don't sacrifice yourself for me."
"She has to!" Scarlett screamed. "Or everyone dies! Make the call, Brooklyn! NOW!"
My finger hovered over the panic button.
Then, out of the shadows behind Scarlett, came a voice:
"I don't think so."
Jayce stepped into the light, the skin around one eye swollen from Daniel's punch but his gaze steady. And he had his own gun, which was aimed directly at Scarlett's forehead.
"Game over, Scarlett. Drop the weapon."
Scarlett wheeled, her expression twisted with perplexity and fury. "Jayce? What are you, you should be with me! We're in this together!"
"Were we?" His voice was cold. "Because I just heard you admit to wanting to kill my girlfriend. Heard you threaten innocent people. And you know what I realized? You're completely insane."
"I did this for us!" she shrieked. "For our love!"
"You don't love me. You're obsessed. There's a difference." He cocked the gun. "Now drop it. This ends tonight."
Scarlett's hand shook, the gun dipping between me and Jayce. Her eyes were everywhere, wild and trapped and desperate.
"If I can't have you," she said in a broken voice that bordered on unhinged, "then nobody will."
She raised the gun and shot Jayce.