Chapter 7 - The Final Confrontation
I scrambled backward on the hospital bed, my heart leaping into my throat. Every broken rib screamed in agony as I pressed my back against the hard plastic headboard.
"Ethan, stop," I gasped, looking around the dark room for anything I could use as a weapon. There was nothing but a plastic water pitcher and a metal IV pole.
"Look at what you did to me," Ethan hissed, stepping closer, his voice shaking with a terrifying mixture of rage and madness. "Look at my life! The company is gone. My name is dragged through the mud. The cops are hunting me like a dog. Everything I built... everything I worked for... destroyed by a worthless, ungrateful bitch!"
"You did this to yourself, Ethan!" I shouted back, trying to keep my voice strong, trying to buy time. "You beat me. You laundered money. You allied yourself with monsters like Marcus Croft. You built your empire on a foundation of blood and lies!"
"I built it on power!" Ethan roared, raising the crowbar high above his head. "And I still have power over you. You think your brother can save you? You think the law can save you? By the time the fire department clears the smoke, you’ll be dead, and I’ll be long gone."
He lunged forward, swinging the heavy metal bar down toward my head.
With a burst of pure, adrenaline-fueled survival instinct, I threw myself off the opposite side of the bed. The crowbar smashed into the plastic mattress with a deafening CRACK, tearing the fabric open.
I hit the hard linoleum floor, the impact sending a blinding wave of pain through my chest. I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't stop. I grabbed the base of the heavy metal IV pole and swung it with all my remaining strength, catching Ethan across the shins.
He groaned, stumbling backward, but his rage made him impervious to the pain. He recovered instantly, his eyes locked onto me with murderous intent. He stepped around the bed, trapping me in the corner of the room.
"You never learned when to keep your mouth shut," Ethan whispered, repeating the exact words he had said to me before knocking me unconscious in our kitchen.
He raised the bar again, stepping in for the killing blow.
Suddenly, a heavy weight slammed into Ethan from behind.
It was Liam.
My brother had realized the danger and sprinted back through the smoke. He tackled Ethan around the waist, crashing both of them into a medical supply cabinet. Glass shattered everywhere, medicines and surgical tools raining down on them as they wrestled on the floor.
"Run, Ava! Run!" Liam screamed, trying to pin Ethan’s arms down.
But Ethan was possessed by a manic, psychotic strength. He drove his elbow violently into Liam’s face, breaking my brother’s nose. Liam gasped, his grip loosening, and Ethan seized the opportunity to smash the handle of the crowbar into Liam’s temple.
Liam collapsed sideways, motionless.
"Liam!" I shrieked, horror tearing through me as I saw my brother drop.
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Ethan stood up slowly, wiping blood from his own forehead. He looked down at Liam, then turned his gaze back to me, the crowbar dripping with a drop of my brother’s blood.
"Now," Ethan sneered, stepping over Liam's unconscious body. "It's just you and me, Ava. No more games. No more clever accounting. Just the end."
