Flipping the locks, I opened it cautiously, holding the gun out before me as Ilsa had shown me.
“Naomi! Where the fuck are you?”
I flinched, Jon’s angry voice echoing off the walls. Based on the trajectory of his voice, he was still downstairs, which meant that I had to keep him from coming up the stairs.
“Naomi! Get your ass out here now, before I kill this bitch!”
Vera. Oh God, he had Vera!
My knees shook as I walked out of the room, looking over the railing. It wasn’t even an option for me to think about staying in that room now, knowing that he had one of our own.
She hadn’t asked for this. Jon was my issue, my baggage that I had brought to this family, and it was mine to try and eliminate from my life.
Sure enough, Jon was standing in the middle of the foyer with his beefy arm around Vera’s neck and a gun in his free hand. I gasped as I saw Ivan’s body behind him, a puddle of rapidly spreading blood under his body.
Was that the shot I heard earlier? Did Jon really feel like the older man was a threat? My heart wrenched tightly in my chest, unable to believe the carnage I was seeing before me. How many more had died? How many more had lost their lives because of this madman?
“There you are,” he smirked as he caught a glimpse of me. “Hands up, my dear.”
I kept the gun leveled at his head, knowing that I had about a 50 percent chance that I could actually hit him from this distance. Even if I could scare him enough to loosen his grip on Vera, she could get away.
It was going to be the best option, probably, and my mind raced as to where I should attempt to shoot. It would have to be close enough to scare him, and therein lay the problem.
What if I hit Vera accidentally? I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t be the one that accidentally killed her in the end.
But what else could I do? I had to get us out of this situation. No one else was coming to help, and probably all the guards were dead.
This was all up to me.
“Look at you,” he murmured, pressing the gun to Vera’s temple. “Naomi found herself a gun. I have to admit, you look pretty fucking hot holding that gun like that, Naomi. I should have given you a gun years ago.” He leaned close and brushed his cheek over Vera’s. “Of course, now there’s more on the line, isn’t there? This fiery little thing was a surprise.”
Vera didn’t even flinch as Jon straightened and pressed the gun back to her temple, her gaze furious as if she could kill him where he stood if he gave her a chance. I tried to give her some sort of comforting gesture to let her know that it was going to be all right, but even I didn’t believe it. I had no idea what to do other than to shoot Jon and hope for the best. “Let her go, Jon,” I replied, my voice far steadier than I thought it would be. “Or I will shoot.”
He laughed. “Shoot me? I thought you didn’t like guns.”
“I don’t like you,” I fired back, leveling the gun at his face. “Which means I fucking love guns right now.”
Jon tsked, clearly not at all intimidated that I was holding him at gunpoint. “Darling, you are going to have to shoot this bitch here to get me.”
“Do it,” Vera challenged, causing Jon to tighten his grip on her neck.
Fear snaked down my spine. “I could shoot you in the head and be done with it,” I told him, my voice shaking a bit now. I couldn’t shoot Vera. I didn’t want to shoot Vera, but if I shot Jon, he would likely pull the trigger and she would be dead. “Let her go.”
He didn’t remove his gun from her temple. “Why don’t you put that gun down, and I will consider letting her go then?”
My subconscious screamed not to believe him, but could I take the risk?
“It’s me you want,” I tried again, the gun starting to feel heavy in my hands, my palms sweating with the thought of having to use the weapon. “Not her. I will go with you willingly if you let her go.”
“Don’t do it,” Vera squeaked out, closing her eyes as Jon leaned close to her ear, whispering something that I couldn’t make out. “Kill me, Naomi. He’s not going to let either of us go!”
It was the first time she recognized me by my true name, and tears sprang to my eyes. She didn’t deserve to be in the middle of my own drama. She hadn’t asked to be held at gunpoint by a madman.
“Please,” I begged, lowering the gun. “Don’t hurt her. You want me. Take me.” Gavril would be screaming at me not to give myself up to Jon, but if he’d had anyone in that position like he had Vera now, I would do the same thing.
No one else was going to be hurt because of him. Not if I could help it.
Jon’s eyes followed my movements as I laid the gun down next to my feet and straightened, holding my hands up so he could see them.