Gates huffed, his stare utterly derisive. "You live with three men. Your lifestyle alone will make people shake their heads. Obviously, they didn't want to stay with a whore, so you did yourself in. I was intent on simply killing you, but if I have to, I'll take out your boyfriend. But I'd rather let him live because he'll make a perfect fall guy. I have some interns ready to testify about all the fights the men have over you. Mike is going to tell the cops that he overheard you crying because you couldn't choose between them. Your boyfriend down there could have murdered you in a fit of rage. Do you want him to live or not?"
She didn't believe a word he said. He would kill them both and come up with a story he hoped would hold water. With corrupt officials in his corner, he had reason to be smug, but it wouldn't work because he didn't understand the nature of the relationship she shared with her men. He didn't understand that no one who knew her or Tate would believe a word Gates said.
Belle pushed at the mattress again. "It's so heavy."
Gates sighed. "Try harder. We're running out of time."
Yes, he was definitely getting tired. She pushed again, pretending great frustration. She finally groaned and stood back up, her hand on her lower back. "I can't. It's too heavy. You need to help me."
She needed him closer. She needed to close the distance between them.
She needed to get that gun. It was the only way she could protect herself and Tate.
Gates stared at her as though trying to decide whether or not he believed her. He was a lawyer, and like her men, he would be damn good at sizing up a witness.
Belle let her emotions show. Vulnerable. Kellan had once told her that the best witness was a vulnerable witness. Juries liked witnesses who seemed a bit fragile. They wanted to empathize with the person on the stand. Belle allowed tears to fill her eyes, let her shoulders slump as though she was utterly defeated.
"Move away." He rolled his eyes as he pointed the gun toward the corner of the room. "I swear, if you want anything fucking done … I should have burned this place down a long time ago."
She stepped back to the corner, between the far wall and the open bathroom door. He'd already made her search the master bathroom. She thought about the high window, but even if she could get it open, there was a three-story fall she was pretty sure she wouldn't survive. Still, there were things she could use as weapons in that bathroom. It was just a few steps away.
Belle felt that cold chill slide across her skin again. It seemed to press against her as though it tried to tell her something.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of one of her grandmother's canes, propped against the wall, just a few steps away. Grandma had left them all over the place, and Belle hadn't gathered them up on these upper floors. Could she reach it?
"Don't you fucking try anything, bitch. You stand there." Gates moved to the bed, gun still in hand. "Mike, get your ass up here. I need help."
She heard the stairs creak. Mike was heading up. She had only a moment or two before she would have a noose shoved around her neck and she'd be thrown over the banister, either before or after she was forced to watch Gates kill Tate.
Her heart started to pound in her chest. Adrenaline flooded her system as she took a step toward that cane. It was right there. One more foot and she would be able to grab it.
Gates looked up suddenly. "I told you not to move."
Belle stopped, thinking on her feet. "Sorry. I fidget when I'm nervous."
His eyes narrowed. "Maybe the time has come to call it a day. Helena was right. This is useless. Maybe Ehlers was lying and she never gave your grandmother the fucking list. Stupid cunt." He stepped forward and pointed the gun her way again. "Maybe I don't need such an elaborate setup. I can kill you and the one downstairs and make it look as if one of your other lovers couldn't take the jealousy. Your freaky living arrangements will play in my favor."
The footsteps drew closer. Her time was over.
She had to get out of that gun's line of fire. She threw herself toward the bathroom door as the crash of gunfire filled her world.
* * * *
Kellan cautiously made his way up the stairs, willing himself to be methodical and not simply run in shooting. He had to take it slow, careful. He had no idea where Belle was in that room.
In the distance, he heard the wail of a siren. His time was running out. The second Gates realized the cops were closing in, he'd want to tie up his loose ends, then cut and run. That likely meant shooting Belle on his way out.
From the second story landing, Kell looked down at Eric, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, an umbrella in his hand. His friend nodded, silently telling him that he didn't sense anyone else in the house.