ONE SIXTY FOUR
Another crash. A deeper voice followed, male, rough, angry. “You stupid bitch!”
Gael.
Glass shattered again. Something heavy hit the floor. My blood turned to ice.
Dominic cursed under his breath, already reaching for the gun he’d set beside the couch hours earlier—but when his hand closed around nothing, his head whipped around. I saw it all over his face. Someone had taken it. He didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. He bolted toward the hallway barefoot, shirtless, muscles tight with urgency and rage. Gael must have taken it.
I scrambled after him, half-blind with fear and still not properly dressed. My sweatpants lay crumpled by the center table. I leapt from the couch, my legs wobbling beneath me, fingers fumbling as I grabbed them.
“Come on,” I whispered frantically to myself. My hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t get them up past my knees on the first try. My thighs felt cold. The night air was no longer comforting—it was filled with dread now.
I stumbled once, nearly falling over the coffee table as my foot caught the edge. I caught myself on the armrest and hissed under my breath. The screams didn’t stop. Tina was still yelling, sobbing, and I could hear Dominic’s voice now too, low but lethal, echoing off the walls.
“Get away from her!”
More crashes. Something like a chair being thrown.
My heart was thundering so hard it felt like my ribs would crack from the inside. My fingers finally found enough strength to yank the sweatpants up over my hips, my breath shallow as I ran down the hallway, barefoot and terrified, the cold floor biting at my soles. I didn’t know what I was running into, what could have spiralled so early in the morning, and why Gael was screaming at Tina, and what was crashing.
The hallway felt endless as I sprinted, breath ragged in my throat, sweat cooling too fast on my skin from the chill of the floor beneath my bare feet. My head was spinning, heart pounding too loud in my ears to hear much else, but even through the chaos inside me, I heard it—that sharp crash of something heavy hitting tile, the guttural yell of a man completely unhinged.
The kitchen.
I veered right, my shoulder clipping the wall as I skidded into the narrow passage. My lungs burned, but I forced myself forward, vision tunneling as I caught sight of the kitchen doorway.
Dominic.
He was standing just inside the threshold, one hand lifted, palm out in surrender, the other hovering slightly like he was ready to reach for something—or someone. His voice was low, controlled, but laced with panic. “Gael, just drop it. Listen to me. You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to—”
I couldn’t see past him yet. My mind flooded with all the worst-case scenarios it could conjure. Tina’s screaming echoed in my head. I didn’t realize I’d stopped until I felt movement beside me. I turned, swiftly, and there was Isabella, padding down the hall barefoot, her robe loosely tied, curls tucked beneath a bonnet. Her eyes were wide, confused, mouth parted like she couldn’t quite form the question she wanted to ask.
Her gaze flicked toward the kitchen, and I saw her process it, the screaming and glass shattering that something was happening. I didn’t want her to see it or maybe I was being selfish and I just didn’t want Adam to come down and experience anything traumatic. I immediately reached for her, my hand gentle but firm as I pressed my palm against her shoulder.
“Go back,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Stay with Adam.”
“But—” her voice cracked, her eyes darted towards the kitchen, they seemed to plead with me to not let Dominic hurt Gael for whatever he had done.
But, I couldn’t promise that. If Gael had hurt Tina, then I didn’t think there was any stopping Dominic from hurting him.
“Please, Isa. Something’s not right.”
She froze, and then I watched her nod—slowly, once. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and she turned around without another word, retreating into the hallway.
I turned back to the kitchen, forcing one foot in front of the other. I still couldn’t see past Dominic’s body. But the sound of Tina crying now came clearer. Hysterical. Broken. Another crash, something else shattering. My skin crawled with the urgency of it. I needed to get in there. I needed to see what the hell was happening. I needed to know if we were already too late.
Just when I was about to step into the kitchen doorway, Dominic moved, stepping firmly into my path, his entire body blocking the view like a wall. His arms were tense, muscles tight as steel under his skin, and without even glancing at me, he extended an arm back, shoving me gently but firmly into the wall beside the door.
“Stay back,” he barked, voice loud, even as he tried to keep his tone low and controlled.
I stumbled a little, my back hitting the wall with a thud, but I scrambled immediately to peek around him, my heart clawing at my chest. I could hear Tina sobbing—no, not sobbing—cursing. And Dominic’s voice rose over it all, desperate, pleading.
“Tina, drop the gun!” he shouted, arms out again like he was trying to calm two wild animals at once. “Gael, don’t touch her. Don’t you fucking move! Jesus Christ, what the hell happened?”
I tried again to push past him, slipping under his outstretched arm, but he caught me, didn’t even look, just shoved me back with one broad hand pressed against my stomach. I gasped, my palms flat against the wall now, my chest heaving so fast I felt like I was suffocating.
“Dominic,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “Let me see. Please. I need to see.”
He didn’t answer, just shoved me again, his body a shield, unwavering.
I strained upward, trying to look over his shoulder, frantic, desperate to piece together what was happening beyond the narrow sliver of the kitchen I could glimpse. The doorframe was too tight, Dominic’s body too broad, and my own fear was choking me. I could hear Tina’s breathless, ragged voice now, weaving through the rising storm of panic.
“I—I just got up to get some water,” Tina was saying, her voice wobbling, but somehow still loud enough to cut through the madness. “I came down, and he… he was trying to sneak out the back door. He had a bag. He was trying to leave!”
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