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WHEN THEY FINALLY BROKE FREE from the cursed plaster, Persie could finally breathe normally. Which was both a blessing and a curse. Seeing as she inhaled too quickly and ended up coughing up a decent amount of dust.
She'd very quickly gotten sick of being supported like she was a child, so she'd kept trying to shove the boys away from her. Sick of the babying.
Neither were having it.
Until, eventually she hobbled as fast as she could through the small gap without any assistance; threatening all of them if they tried to do it again with just a single, pointing finger. She was the first one out, Lockwood after her. Followed by Lucy and then last but not least George.
The dust really was unbearable. Making their lungs feel like they'd inhaled the entire contents of an ashtray. All of them coughing up their lungs as they rushed to clamour out.
Soon beginning their attempt to run away and make a quick escape. The exit was within reach. And yet, still so far away. Because the woman who'd driven them to the house now stood in their way. Her rapier out in a threatening stance. Making all four of them, who'd tried to run per Lockwood's instructions, immediately stop in their tracks. Neither wanting to become a piece of meat on a skewer.
And her threat was soon followed by a gunshot. One that was luckily aimed away from them as some sort of warning. Although, any ornamental pieces nearby probably weren't as fortunate.
Fairfax stood in the doorway like some weirdo. Goggles strapped to his face like he was the star of a comedy show. Standing there, thinking a gun in his hands made him look like a real man. But what sort of man threatens a group of teenagers? A murderer, that's who.
If it wasn't monks, it was psycho employees of an equally psycho millionaire. How fun!
"Don't move." He barked out as an order when Lockwood inched his head towards him. The group had previously been huddled together, trying to keep one another safe. Except now, Lucy and George were hiding behind a table, while Persie and Lockwood were left out in the open still standing. The latter standing almost protectively in front of the former. "Hands up." He looked almost comical, but sadly it wasn't the time to laugh at a man with a gun. So Persie kept quiet. Instead, watching him intently.
To say Lockwood wasn't happy to see Fairfax, would be an understatement. He was seething. Long gone was the image of an inspirational man, making a success of himself. Especially as you start to wonder how many people he's thrown under the bus or killed to get his way in life.
Now all that was left was anger. Anger at almost dying because of Fairfax's plans to make what he did to Annabel die with them. Anger at being fooled. Anger at almost losing his friends because of his own ego.
