The Keeper (Playing to Win #1)

What the hell was I supposed to do with all this?

Henry walked around to the back of the couch laughing at something. Who knows what. He pressed the gun to the back of my head, and I’ll never forget thinking I was gonna die.

“You’re pretty useless in this whole scenario. Maybe I should get rid of you now.”

“No,” Lindy sobbed. Her crying escalated, and Henry hit her in the back of the head with the gun.

“Calm her down and you can live.”

I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my lips to her ear. “Shh. You gotta calm down,” I begged her loud enough so he could hear me. Then I whispered quietly, “I’m gonna get us out of this, princess. You gotta trust me.”

Henry cocked the gun. “No whispering.”

I held Lindy tight, trying to figure out what the hell to do as he pressed the gun to her head again. We sat there, waiting. Silent tears racked her shaking body.

I’m not sure how much time passed before Ashlyn walked in, followed by Brandon. She screamed as she stumbled over Marco.

“Not a sound, Ashlyn,” Henry warned her.

“Henry, what are you doing?” Ashlyn took a step forward, but Brandon pulled her back against him, and I watched Brandon’s eyes. He was a big guy back then. Still is, but then, he was the center for the Philly Kings football team, and I remember thinking if we were gonna get out of this, he and I had to work together.

“Mom,” Lindy cried out. I lock my arm around her, keeping her in place.

We were not fucking dying that day. I remember thinking that like a mantra over and over. Trying to convince myself.

“What are you doing, Ashlyn? That’s the better question. Why are you living a lie?” Henry asked her, completely unbothered by any of it. He was calm, like he hadn’t just killed somebody’s husband. Somebody’s dad.

Ashlyn tried to get Henry talking. I think she was trying to distract him. But it wasn’t working. He was just getting more pissed.

“Step away from him, and I’ll explain everything, my pet.” Henry motioned to Ashlyn with the gun, and Brandon’s hold tightened. “Let go of her.” The gun moved to Brandon, and I was sure Henry was about to shoot him. “It’s his fault. He ruined everything.”

Ashlyn immediately moved away from Brandon toward the couch. “What did he ruin, Henry? I’m so confused.”

“How are you confused?” He waved his gun around, and Lindy’s nails dug into my leg as this psychopath put the gun back to her head.

“What’s he doing here, Ashlyn? He shouldn’t be here.”

“He lives here,” she told him.

“I’m supposed to live here. Not him,” Henry yelled back, and the sinking feeling came back tenfold. How are we getting out of this?

Henry was screaming at her. Spit flew from his lips. “You saw me. You finally saw me. After all these years. Do you have any idea how long I waited for you? Any idea the lengths I’ve gone to so we could be a family?”

I tried making eye contact with Brandon, but his eyes were locked on Ashlyn.

If I couldn’t get him to see me, we were all gonna die.

“I’ve loved you for so long, Ashlyn. Since your very first Nationals when you were fifteen. And you never saw me. Do you remember the way the seats would fill when you practiced during public hours? Do you know how many hours I sat in those stands, waiting for you to notice me? All those hours on the top bleacher, watching your every move. Every routine. Always hoping that would be the day you’d see me. You were so pretty. So graceful. I was there when you won your very first Nationals. I was there at the Olympics when you were robbed of the gold and that spoiled little bitch, Nina, threw a temper tantrum on the ice.”

Henry waved his gun around the room, and the cracks in his calm started showing. This was going downhill fast. “She ruined your chances, Ashlyn. She tainted you. It was all her fault that you were robbed of the gold. There was no way they were going to give it to you after the stunt she pulled. You’d worked so hard for the medal. It wasn’t fair. So she had to go.”

The room became eerily quiet until he pulled back on Lindy’s hair, and she cried out.

I fought everything inside myself to stay calm and focused on Brandon, not on killing this asshole for hurting Lindy and threatening our lives.

I refused to fucking die like that and pushed down my fear.

I forced myself to stay in control as Ashlyn kept Henry talking.

She knew what we needed. Now let’s just hope Brandon was understanding me. “What do you mean, she had to go, Henry? What . . . what did you do?”

I tuned out Henry’s answer and gave Brandon the slightest nod to see if he’d notice, and his eyes widened. Fuck. He saw it. I made promises to God if we got out of this, I’d do whatever it took to lead a good fucking life. And as this crazy fuck yanked on Lindy’s hair again, he pressed the gun tighter to the back of her head.

Ashlyn saw it and forced her way around Brandon, still arguing with Henry. Keeping his focus on her, instead of Lindy.

Henry lowered his gun, then pointed it at Brandon and Ashlyn.

“We’re supposed to have a life together, Ashlyn. I was even going to forgive you for her.”

I just had to wait for my time.

It was coming. I knew it had to be coming. We weren’t dying like this.

Not there. Not that day.

“We still can, Henry. You and me. Just let Madeline, Easton, and Brandon go, then I’ll go anywhere you want. As far away as you want.” Ashlyn took a tentative step closer, and Henry moved.

I remember thinking—That’s it, Ashlyn. Get him to move.

“Anywhere, Henry. We can start our lives together anywhere. But you’ve got to let them go.”

Henry swung the gun toward Brandon. “He’ll never let you go.”

That was it. That was my chance. Thank fuck, Brandon was used to reading silent signals on the football field and knew innately what I was thinking.

I nodded at him, and he threw Ashlyn down on the floor at the same time I pulled Lindy down in front of me and out of the line of fire.

In a lightning-fast move, I twisted my body and grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands. I was trying to control the gun.

Looking back, it happened so fucking fast, but it felt like I was slogging through quicksand back then.

I yanked Henry forward and ripped him off his feet, praying the gun wouldn’t go off and kill anybody.

This was it.

Our only chance.

I’ve never been as scared in my entire fucking life as I was when the gun went off. I didn’t know if it hit anyone until later, when someone told me it went into the wall.

Brandon hurtled his body over Lindy and me, like the couch was a fucking springboard.

He tackled Henry to the floor behind us, knocking over the fucking couch, with Lindy and me both still on it, in the process. We all fell to the floor as momentum carried us.

I threw Lindy at Ashlyn and turned to help Brandon, who had his hands around Henry’s throat and was slamming his head against the floor over and over.

Blood pooled beneath the back of Henry’s head as his face turned a dark purple.

Fuck.

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