Rush by Ava Benton

Author:Ava Benton [Benton, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ABP

The hardware store salesman cheerfully informed me the bolt cutter would cut through a steel chain like butter. With more confidence than I’d had before, I spent the remainder of the day and evening caring for Mom. We didn’t speak of Dad and Xedron again, something I found to be ominous.

Well after midnight, I parked in front of Dad’s impressive home. The bolt cutters sat on the seat beside me, and I held onto the rubber grip while I studied the front of the house. I saw no lights on anywhere. My previous confidence in myself as well as my mission evaporated. Uneasy worry settled into my gut.

“Let’s get this done with,” I muttered.

I eased my way out of the car. Streetlights illuminated portions of the neighborhood, but shadows seemed darker than ever. I gazed around, half afraid something or someone lurked with in their depths, watching me dither with a bolt cutter in one fist, my flashlight in the other.

Tempted to get in the car, drive away and call the cops had me turning back. Then the image of my father in a prison jumpsuit sent me striding firmly toward his house. Using the spare key, I let myself in. Like the street outside, the shadows inside were spooky dark in a way that sent my nerves into overdrive.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing is gonna happen. Just get Xedron out, and it’ll all be over.

The key to the basement’s lock still sat where I’d left it the night before. Using it, I let myself down the stairs, the flashlight guiding me. I absently thought about simply turning the lights on, but feared that might actually garner my father’s attention.

Xedron lifted his head from the cot as I approached. Though he’d cleaned up some of the blood on his face and torso, he still looked horrible. My stomach clenched in fear and guilt as stared at him. I could have prevented this. And I didn’t.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice low, hoarse.

“I have to get you out of there.”

Setting the flashlight down on a table where it could illuminate the cell’s gate, I opened and closed the haft of the bolt cutter. Xedron slowly sat up, the chain around his neck and anchored to the floor, glinted like evil eyes. He said nothing as I placed the jaws of the tool against the lock.

The lights overhead switched on.

I wheeled, my heart leaping into my throat.

Dad stood at the foot of the stairs, his eyes like sunken holes in his face. Wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas, he paced out from behind the tables and equipment on them. Then I saw the gun in his hand.

“I knew I didn’t forget to lock the door the other night,” he said, his tone conversational.

“Dad—”

“Leave her alone, Fletcher,” Xedron growled from behind me. “You touch her, and I’ll kill you.”

My father ignored him. He crossed the basement, the gun trained unwaveringly on me.

“My own daughter,” he commented. “Betraying me.”

“Dad, this is wrong,” I cried, petrified with fear.

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