The Keys to freedom

Chapter 51- Surrender

The room was deathly silent until Lance's harsh, cold voice cut through. "Don't you dare, you lying bitch!" he snarled, his face contorted with fury. "Whatever shes trying to convince you I did, don't believe her. She's nothing but a gold-digging liar. She always has been, she is trying to ruin you son, ruin us!"

Oz's heart raced. She could barely breathe. Every word that came out of his mouth made her stomach twist in disgust. But she refused to back down.

"You know I'm not lying, Pyke," she said, her voice raw. "You know it."

A tear slid down his face as his hands trembled, the gun he held wavering in his grip. His breath hitched as he shifted his eyes from Oz to Lance now pointing the gun to his father.

"It was you?" He yelled. "You raped my girlfriend!" He said through gritted teeth, gripping the gun tighter.

"What?" Grayson said looking to Oz, but she didn't turn around.

"What the hell are they talking about Lozzie," James added but she ignored him too, keeping her attention on Pyke and trying not to feel mortified at the fact that everyone now knew the secret she had tried so hard to keep buried.

"Dad!" Pyke yelled waiting for an answer. "I want the truth. I want to hear it from you."

Lance stood taller, trying to maintain his authority. "I already told you the truth," he spat. "She's lying, Pyke! She's just trying to turn you against me,"

His hands were still shaking, fury building with every second.

"Pyke," Lance sneered, but there was a tremor in his voice now, a crack. "You can't turn on me now, son. Not for her. Not for no damn liar."

Oz saw the shift in Pyke's expression, the conflict warring inside him. And she wasn't sure if he was going to drop the gun or pull the trigger.

"Pyke..." she whispered, her heart in her throat.

His chest heaved, his tear-filled eyes locked onto his father, the man who had been his hero for so long. But now, nothing more than a monster.

She could see the torment in his eyes, as his fingers tightened around the trigger.

"You don't want to be like him." She continued. "You're not that man," she whispered. "You never were."

His gaze flickered between her and Lance. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak, but no words came out. She stepped closer to him, her heart pounding in her chest as she reached for his hand, slowly coaxing it down.

"You'll never forgive yourself if you do this," she continued, her voice softer now, urging him to listen, to see her. "I know you won't. You have a chance, Pyke—a chance to be different. To break free."

A tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away.

"Break the glass, remember?"

The air seemed to hold its breath. For a moment, then, as if a light finally flickered on in his eyes, his grip on the gun faltered, fingers trembling before he slowly lowered it. His breath hitched, as he looked down at her and then, with a broken whisper, he murmured, "I'm sorry."

His knees buckled as he dropped to the floor, the gun clattering beside him. He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her legs, his head resting against her stomach. "I'm so sorry," he choked out.

She stood frozen, her heart pounding. She hadn't expected this, None of them had. Just moments ago, he had been the threat—the one holding a gun, making threats. And now, on his knees before her surrendering and unraveling like a man drowning in his own regret.

The others were just as stunned. They had never seen this side of Pyke before. To them, he had always been something less than human—cold, ruthless, devoid of a soul. They had never understood Oz's love for him, had never believed there was anything inside him worth saving.

But now, watching him break, watching remorse hollow him out from the inside, they saw something they hadn't before.

A flicker of humanity.

"Forgive me," he pleaded.

"Stand up," Lance sneered, disgust curling in his voice. "You're making a fool of yourself."

Oz hesitated before placing her hands gently on his arms, giving a soft pull. He rose slowly, his teary eyes locking onto hers, searching, desperate. His fingers ghosted over her cheek in a feather-light touch before she closed the distance and pulled him into her arms.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, bending his knees slightly to her height. "I'm so sorry... for everything," he sobbed.

She held onto him tightly, tears spilling from her eyes. She could still feel the betrayal, the pain. But in that moment, she didn't care. She was just holding him, and he was holding her, like they had finally found their way back to each other, all the barriers, and chains that held them apart, gone.

Fury ignited in Lance, a raw, burning rage that twisted through him as he watched his son betray him—choosing her over his own blood. His vision blurred with anger, his body tensing like a coiled spring. he turned swiftly and elbowed Grayson in the face. The distraction was all he needed. He yanked the gun from Grayson's hand and spun it toward Oz's back.

"NO!" James screamed, but it was too late.

Pyke glanced up and saw the gun, saw the rage in his father's eyes. Before Oz could register what was happening, she felt herself being pulled. Pyke's arms still wrapped tightly around her in their embrace, his body spinning her around out of the line of fire. The crack of the gunshot tore through the room like a thunderclap. She felt her back hit the bookshelf behind her, and his chest press against hers in a protective shield. She froze, her heart pounding in her ears, unable to understand what had just occurred.

"Pyke!" she gasped, her voice trembling as his body sagged against hers. His legs faltered, as he caught himself on the bookcase behind her, his arms outstretched on either side of her head.

All eyes in the room widened in shock, even Lance's smug expression faltered as the gravity of what had just happened set in, at what he had just done.

Pyke's breaths grew shallow and ragged, his face mere inches from hers. His eyes met hers—pained, yet resolute.

"No, no, no," she whispered. She reached out steadying him with her arms, but his strength was fading, and he could no longer hold himself upright. Slowly, his body began to collapse.

"Pyke!" She cried, lowering him gently to the ground. His blood began to pool in a puddle underneath them her hands, her fingers, her legs, warm and sticky.

All eyes remained widened in horror, even Lance's, whose jaw hung slack. Grayson dropped to the ground, quickly snatching up Pyke's gun, and without hesitation, fired it at Lance.

BANG!

Lance's head snapped back as the bullet grazed his ear, a sharp hiss of pain escaping his lips. His hand flew up instinctively, clutching the bleeding wound. For a split second, his eyes widened in shock—but then he snapped back to his senses. He spun on his heel and bolted from the room with Grayson in hot pursuit of him.

"Grayson no!" James shouted, racing after them.

Oz heard nothing else, saw nothing else, she was oblivious to the chaos around her. Jessper's racing to the phone line in the corner of the room, her conversation with emergency services, and the muffled footsteps of Rodge and Evie fleeing. In that moment, her world had narrowed to the man before her, his life slipping away with each passing second.

"Why did you do that?!" she choked.

His lip twitched in what could barely be called a smile as he reached up for her his fingers pinching the end of her nose with a gentle stroke. His mouth opening to speak, but before he could say anything his hand slipped from her face, falling lifeless to the ground.