I brought the hammer up again. Not to kill, not yet, just to mark him. One strike to the shoulder joint. clean, measured. His scream shuddered through the cabin. Kyle jumped from behind the couch, knife trembling in both hands. I didn’t move until he was almost on me. Then I pivoted, caught his forearm twisted. The knife clattered to the floor.
I held him by the collar, his terror soaking my glove. I begged Dominic to stop. Kyle blurted. I told them to stop. Then you should have helped her, I said, pressing the handle of the hammer against his throat. You held the camera. He froze, realization breaking through his panic. His lips parted, but no sound came out.
I let him fall unconscious to the floor with one sharp hit to the temple. Victor had found his gun by then. He leveled it, hands shaking. His aim was good for a man half blind and bleeding rage. After all these theatrics, he hissed. You still think you’re righteous? You broke into my home. I cut him off.
