Page 58 of The Knight (Endgame 2)
Then I pick up the small table, knocking the chess pieces to the ground. I shove the circular edge under the end of the beam, creating a lever. The wood in the table cracks but the marble chess base holds steady, lifting the wide beam by an inch.
Gabriel grunts, his expression impassive, but I know the pain must be intense. It will only hurt him worse as I push the beam farther. It’s the only way to save him.
Using the carved base of the table, I deepen the angle beneath the beam. I push down with all my strength, able to use my weight pressing down on the lever. The beam shifts with a creak while Gabriel swears profusely, sweat slicking his skin.
The beam slants more sideways, but Gabriel looks deathly white, unable to slide the rest of the way out. And even if he were able to move to the side, the beam would follow him down to the floor.
A pop from above is the only warning before the ceiling rains down on us. I throw myself over Gabriel’s face, shielding him.
“It’s too heavy,” he says, teeth gritted. “Go. Now.”
My mother risked everything for a man who played her. I should be wary of sacrifice by now, but this is one I have to make. “No.”
“Avery,” he says, words coming sharper, shorter. He can’t breathe well. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll never forgive you. I swear to God, I’ll never speak to you again.”
“But you’ll be alive,” I say, moving beneath the beam’s end. It’s higher now, after the table did its work. “Isn’t that what you told me? The ultimate victory? I’m not going to let you be the martyr, Gabriel.”
It isn’t martyrdom I’m worried about and we both know it. It’s him—Gabriel Miller in all his wild, fierce glory. Maybe my mother and I are fated to fall in love with dangerous men. I just hope that mine won’t destroy me, too.
I shove against the beam with all my might, panting at the effort.
Someone appears at the door, cursing at the lick of flames. Justin.
Gabriel speaks through obvious pain, the evenness of his voice forced. “Get. Her. Out.”
“I’m not leaving until he does,” I tell him. “So you might as well help me.”
Justin glances from Gabriel to me, his expression solemn. Then he jumps into action, pushing off his suit jacket and joining me beneath the beam. Together we manage to force it higher, maybe an inch, enough for Gabriel to draw in a rough breath.
With a pained shout, Gabriel heaves himself back. His legs just clear the space before my knees give out. Justin swears and drops the beam. With a crack, the other end falls through the floor, revealing a small peek at the ballroom beneath us.
Gabriel closes his eyes, clearly fighting whatever’s happening inside him.
I hurry to his side, helping him stand up, finding more strength somewhere inside me. We do what we have to. With his hard-packed muscle and large frame he’s much heavier than my father. Justin joins him on the other side, helping to support him. And with struggling, halting steps, we make our way across cracked wood and down broken stairs.Chapter Thirty-FourWhile I’m waiting for the doctor, someone knocks on the door. I look through the peephole, thinking maybe it will be Damon. Or maybe the cops. Instead I recognize Will from the Rose and Crown Motel. He looks out of place with the lush green and wooded stretch behind him, so different from the concrete forest I know him from.
I open the door. “I can’t believe you were spying on me.”
Even though I can believe it. I know how persuasive Gabriel can be.
Guilt forces his gaze to the side. “I’m sorry.”
I move back to let him in. “I just hope you charged him enough.”
He steps into the hallway gingerly, as if expecting to be tossed back out. “He didn’t pay me anything, I swear.”
“Well, then you definitely didn’t charge him enough.”
“I asked for something more important than money.”
“What?”
Is that a blush? His cheeks look a shade darker.
“Come on,” I say, wheedling him. “You betrayed me to get this thing that’s better than money. The least you can do is tell me.”
He’s silent a moment. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you can’t tell anyone. It’s a matter of national security.”
“National security?” I say doubtfully.
He nods. “I served in Afghanistan. A guy in my division. God, I hated his guts. Despised him. Wouldn’t have seen him while we were on leave, but we both went to this wedding for another teammate. And I met his wife.”
My mouth opens on a silent O.
“Got to talking to her. Felt bad that she was married to such a jackass. Everyone knew he was a douche, but even I didn’t think he would sleep with one of the bridesmaids. He snuck off and left his wife at the reception. She was embarrassed but not surprised. So I stayed with her. Nothing happened,” he adds like that’s important.
