Chapter 7 - The Reckoning in the Dark
Before Tristan’s hand could reach my neck, I swung my heavy wooden cane with all the strength in my upper body.
CRACK!
The solid oak wood struck him directly across the side of his face. Tristan let out a sharp cry of shock and pain, staggering sideways and dropping the silver syringe onto the rug.
"You bitch!" he roared, blood trickling from his split lip.
He lunged at me with pure, rabid fury, tackling me onto the couch. His heavy gloved hands clamped around my throat, cutting off my air. The terrifying memory of being trapped in that bed rushed back, but I refused to let fear paralyze me again.
I jammed my thumbs directly into his eyes.
Tristan shrieked, instantly releasing my neck to clutch his face. I rolled off the couch, scrambling across the floor toward the falling syringe.
"Vance, NOW!" I screamed at the top of my lungs toward the ceiling.
BOOM!
The front door crashed off its hinges with a deafening explosion. Flashbang grenades detonated in the entryway, filling the living room with blinding white light and thunderous booms.
"POLICE! DROP TO THE GROUND! DROP TO THE GROUND!"
SWAT officers flooded the room like a tidal wave, laser sights painting Tristan’s chest in crimson dots. Detective Vance rushed through the smoke, pulling me behind the shield of two heavily armed officers.
Tristan was pinned to the floor, his face slammed against the hardwood, screaming in pain as officers twisted his arms behind his back and clicked heavy iron restraints onto his wrists.
Detective Vance picked up the dropped pneumatic syringe with a pair of sterile forceps, placing it carefully into an evidence bag. He held up a wireless tablet, showing the live feed that had just recorded every single word of Tristan’s confession, captured in high-definition 4K video and crisp audio.
"We got it all, Tristan," Detective Vance said, looking down at the squirming monster on the floor. "The confession, the weapon, the premeditation, and the admission of Clara's murder. You're never going to see the sun again."
Tristan thrashing wildly, looking up at me through bloodshot eyes. "Reese! Reese, talk to them! We can work this out! I’ll give you everything! The house, the money, the offshore accounts!"
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I stood tall, resting my hand on Detective Vance’s arm. I looked down at the man who had tried to rot me from the inside out, feeling nothing left for him but cold, absolute disgust.
"Keep your money, Tristan," I said, my voice echoing clearly over his frantic weeping. "I’ll see you in court."
