Claudia is losing it, and the man she calls The Monster isn't far behind. His eyes glow with fury as he stares me down. It takes me all of two seconds to assess the situation is as volatile as the two people caught in the middle of it. They're at a standstill, one that's about to explode from emotions shortly before the gas-drenched apartment goes up in flames.

I can't think of Claudia right now or the fact she's bleeding, hurt and sobbing. I'm in mission mode, with my focus being on defusing the situation before we all end up swallowed by a fireball.

"Claudia, I need you to move this way," I urge her in a low, calm voice.

"No, Petr. You need to go. Take care of Todd."

"He needs you, sweetheart."

She blinks back tears and refuses to look at me, eyes on The Monster.

"Sweetheart." Jake mocks. His attention goes back to her. "How sweet. Maybe all of us should - "

"Get out of here, Jake!" she shouts.

"We have unfinished business." He takes a step towards her, and she grips the weapon with both hands.

"No, we -"

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"Whoa, whoa," I say. The two are growing more agitated, less likely to react out of reason. "I'm not leaving, Claudia. Jake, I think we need to have a little talk."

"Go, Petr!" Her eyes are glazed. "Please!"

"Do it, bitch. Kill us all!" The Monster dares her.

"I will kill you, Jake. I'll -"

Neither is listening, and I rack my mind for something to jar Claudia out of her emotional state so she responds to my commands rather than Jake's psychological hold over her.

"I came here to propose, but it looks like I'm a little late to the party," I say loudly.

The effect is instant. Claudia faces me and lowers her arm, mouth agape, while even The Monster appears taken aback. I use their surprise to my advantage and cross to her quickly, taking her arm. Her eyes are pinned to mine, and I hold her gaze.

"Trust me," I whisper.

She hesitates but doesn't resist when I pry the weapon loose from her hands. I ache to touch her but resist instead nudging her behind me while I face The Monster.

The weapon is loaded. I release the magazine and toss it then pop the bullet out of the chamber. Throwing the bullet and pocketing the weapon, I face The Monster and stare him down.

"Gun's down. Now your lighter," I order him. There's furniture between us, or this fight would be over already. My prosthetic leg is incredible - but where it lags is agile maneuverability.




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