Three Knocks | ✔️

28|

An air of disorientation crashed upon his head. His eyelashes fluttered. Vision adjusted to the well-lit room, and ears picked up a massive silence followed by a steady rainfall and a gust of wind bumping the branches against the window.

Jake sat up, his head between his hands. A deep ache coursed like a racing car on a loop. He groaned, taking in the surroundings when reality struck him like a knife in the guts.

"Camille," he uttered. "Miranda, Edward, fuck"

Jake scrambled to regain his feet and went straight for the drawer above the fireplace. The gun was still there. He wrapped the grip and rested his finger on the trigger without thinking twice. His chest rose and fell in short, rapid motions. Letting out two big exhales, Jake exited the room. Walking on tiptoes, he listened for any sound. When he heard none, he started opening doors.

"Camille, Miranda, where are you?" He shouted.

When he reached the top of the staircase, someone called his name.

"Jake, I'm here."

He spotted Miranda sitting on the bed, massaging her temples. Tucking the gun at his waist, he covered it with his T-shirt.

"Where is Camille?" He shook her arms and held her face in his hands. "Did he hurt you? Did he take Camille?"

Miranda shook her head.

"We were talking, and I fell asleep. Suddenly, I woke up with a big headache. Camille was right here with me."

"He knows about me, and I know everything about him. I thought he would have killed me in my sleep. If we are both fine, there is a chance that Camille is fine, too. Split up, but be careful."

Jake left her and went straight to the other side. Dishes piled up in the sink, dirty boot prints and a little water accumulation took up the entire floor. He caught a smashed plate near the dining table. On closer inspection, little drops of blood coated the edge.

"Shit"

A piercing scream came from the other side. Jake's fear heightened. One piece of shard pricked his two little toes as he ran towards the terrace window. Miranda sprinted towards someone. Ignoring the acute wave of pain, he exited the house, gun in his hand.

When Jake arrived in the yard, the rain dropped to a drizzle. His body stiffened as the icy drops hit his warm skin once more.

Adelaide held a screaming Miranda's arm in a vicious grip. Jake witnessed how she knee-jabbed the girl in the abdomen and twisted her right arm behind her back with enormous force. Once again, Miranda's scream echoed in the darkness. She fell, whimpered and cried in a hoarse voice at the top of her lungs.

Adelaide picked up the shovel and finally noticed Jake.

"Oh, son, you're right on time."

She gazed at something lying on the ground. Jake squinted through the darkness and noticed that it was Camille. His heart lurched in his chest. Body shaking with rage, he raised the gun in the air.

"I fucking warned you," he shouted.

Adelaide let out a short bark of laughter.

"I have not killed her yet. Your freaky girl was lying on this dirty ground in the fucking rain when I arrived. You have bad taste, son."

"I guess I'm my father's son."

"Touché"

A momentary sense of relief overcame him. However, Adelaide gripped the shovel while Miranda whimpered in pain, clutching her arm. He decided not to lower the gun.