Page 20 of Dark Christmas
I look at him, eyes wide, my heart starting to race. “Are you expecting company?” I whisper, barely able to get the words out. His entire expression changes in an instant, shifting from relaxed to razor-sharp.
He puts a finger to his lips, signaling me to stay quiet. My heart’s pounding so hard I’m sure whoever’s downstairs can hear it. I’m frozen in place and can barely dare to breathe as he reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a gun.
He slides out of bed and pulls his clothes back on, moving with an unnerving calmness as if he’s done this a million times before. I manage to find my voice, barely a whisper. “Why do you have that?”
He answers by pressing his finger to his lips again, then shoots me a look that silently tells me to stop asking questions.
“Stay here. Lock the door,” he whispers. His tone is firm and authoritative, leaving no room for argument.
Without another word, he slips out of the room, moving like a shadow. I’m left standing there, my mind racing a mile a minute.
What the actual fuck is going on?
I do what he says, locking the door behind him, but my pulse is pounding, a mix of fear and confusion taking over.
As time passes, the silence becomes suffocating. My fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, and my brain is spinning out, wondering if I should call the cops, though I don’t know if that would make things worse.
I press my ear against the door, straining to hear something,anything. But there’s nothing. His house is huge, and for all I know, he could be anywhere in it. After a few agonizing seconds, I unlock the door and crack it open, sliding out into the hallway as quietly as I can.
My bare feet move silently down the hall, the tension thick enough to choke me. When I reach the landing, I finally hear voices. Melor’s, and two others. The sound of their conversation makes my stomach twist into knots.
I inch closer, trying to stay hidden, but close enough to hear the exchange. One of the other men’s voices breaks the stillness, sharp and accusing.
"You killed my brother."
What?My heart skips a beat.Did he say killed?
Melor’s response is firm and composed. “I’m not a part of that life anymore.”
My mind is racing, trying to make sense of it all. I press myself against the wall, realizing I’ve become involved in something I never expected.
Who the hell is Mellor, and what did I just get myself into?
I creep closer, staying low as the conversation becomes clearer. I can barely breathe as I listen in, trying to make sense of what’s happening downstairs.
"You killed Dimitri," one of the men growls, his voice dripping with anger.
"Two years ago,” a second voice adds.
There’s a beat of silence before Melor speaks again, the tone of his voice sounding as if he’s not fazed at all.
“I don’t recall this Dimitri you speak of,” he says.
“Don’t recall?” the man replies incredulously. “You kill my goddamn brother, and you don’t even have the fucking respect to remember him?”
“I’ve had a busy career,” Melor says dismissively. “Faces… they have a way of blurring together after a while.”
“You… you’ll fucking pay for this.”
I can almostfeelMelor’s apathy, the way he’s so unfazed by the threat hanging in the air. Then, suddenly, I hear grunts as a scuffle breaks out, the unmistakable sound of bodies slamming into walls, fists connecting with flesh. I can hear the heavy thuds of punches and furniture scraping across the floor. It sounds like a full-on brawl is going down.
I’m frozen in place, scared out of my mind but equally terrified for Melor’s safety. The sounds get louder—the grunting, the crashing—until aclickingnoise cuts through all of it.
I’m shaking, my hands clammy as I press my body against the wall.
I can’t just sit here and do nothing, I tell myself, my heart hammering in my chest.
I need to call the cops.