Chapter 8 - The Coldest Reception
The rain had begun to fall—a sharp, freezing coastal deluge that turned the wooden planks of the high terrace into a sheet of black ice.
The searchlights from two police cruisers in the courtyard below pierced the dense fog, casting eerie, swirling beams of white light across the shattered railing where Emily had hung by her fingertips only hours earlier.
Julian had backed all the way to the edge. His heels were hovering inches from the abyss. He had his left arm wrapped violently around Emily’s neck in a chokehold, his right hand keeping the 9mm jammed hard against her throat.
“Nobody moves!” Julian screamed into the howling storm, squinting through the rain as Sergeant Miller and the tactical deputies moved out onto the terrace, spreading into a wide semi-circle fifteen feet away.
“Julian, listen to me!” Sergeant Miller shouted over the roar of the wind. “There is nowhere to go! The resort is surrounded! Put the weapon down and let Miss Hayes go!”
“Call off the perimeter!” Julian shrieked, his voice cracking with hysterical panic. “Get me a car! A clean unmarked cruiser with a full tank of gas, or I take her over the side! I swear to God, Miller, I will step backward right now!”
Emily could feel the tremor in Julian’s muscles. His grip on her neck was slick with rain and sweat. She could feel the vibration of his ragged breathing against her back.
He wasn't thinking rationally anymore. He was a cornered predator facing life in a federal penitentiary—or extradition to Switzerland for the premeditated murder of his brother. He had nothing left to lose.
If she waited for the police to negotiate, Julian would jump. He would take her with him into the dark ocean below, and this time, there would be no metal bracket to catch her dress. There would be no Sarah to grab her wrist.
*“Kick your feet. Find a ledge.”*
Sarah’s words from the morning echoed in Emily’s memory.
Emily looked down.
Julian’s feet were braced against the broken base of the wooden balustrade. He was leaning all his weight backward, using her body as both a shield and a counterweight to keep his balance against the fierce ocean gale.
He was completely reliant on her stability.
Emily locked eyes with Sarah, who had crept onto the terrace behind the SWAT deputies, holding her camera at her side. Sarah’s eyes widened slightly as she saw the subtle shift in Emily’s posture.
Sarah understood.
“Julian!” Sarah yelled, stepping forward past the line of deputies.
“Get back, you bitch!” Julian snarled, shifting his gun half an inch toward his sister.
“Daniel forgave you,” Sarah lied, her voice ringing clear, piercing through the roar of the surf. “Before he died, Julian... Daniel left a letter in the Swiss vault. He knew what you were. And he pitied you.”
The mention of his dead brother’s name hit Julian like an electric shock. For one fraction of a second, his focus fractured. His eyes flickered toward Sarah, his grip on Emily’s neck loosening by a millimeter.
*Now.*
Emily didn't try to pull away.
Instead, she did the exact opposite.
She threw her entire body weight *backward* directly into Julian’s chest, driving the sharp, heavy wooden heel of her hotel slipper straight down onto his right instep with every ounce of force she possessed!
*CRACK.*
Julian howled in agony as the bones in his foot gave way. His balance shattered on the slick, wet wood.
In that same split second, Emily seized his gun wrist with both hands, twisting it downward and away from her throat, while driving her elbow violently backward into his solar plexus.
Julian’s breath exploded from his lungs. The gun discharged with a muffled *POW*, the bullet ricocheting harmlessly off the stone retaining wall.
The pistol flew from his slick fingers, clattering across the deck.
“NOW!” Emily screamed, dropping flat to the wet floor.
“TAKE HIM!” Miller roared.
Before Julian could recover his balance, two beanbag rounds from the deputies’ non-lethal shotguns struck him squarely in the chest with the force of a sledgehammer.
*THWUMP. THWUMP.*
Julian staggered backward. His arms flailed wildly in the freezing rain, fighting the air, fighting the wind, his eyes wide with sudden, absolute terror as his heels slipped off the edge of the destroyed platform.
May you like
He began to fall.
***
