Chapter 4 - The Game of Mirrors
Jason walked into the study, the barrel of the gun never wavering. His smile was jagged, lacking any of the charm he usually donned. "I knew you were too inquisitive to be a simple, vapid trophy wife. You’ve been spending far too much time in that room."
"I just wanted to be a good wife," I lied, my voice steady, though my blood had turned to ice. I was trying to block his view of the terminal with my body.
"A good wife doesn't spend her nights talking to a ghost," Jason sneered. He took another step closer, the gun leveled at my chest. "I should have known Ethan would have some kind of safeguard. He was always the boy scout. But even boys scouts die."
"You won't get away with it, Jason," I said, backing toward the wall. "The evidence is already uploading."
"Oh, I think you're overestimating your reach," he laughed. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed my arm, yanking me toward the door. "Let's go say goodbye to your husband. I think it’s time he finally crossed the veil."
He dragged me toward the bedroom, his grip bruising my arm. My mind was racing. If he killed Ethan, he would kill me next. I had to create a distraction. As we passed the heavy crystal vase on the hallway pedestal, I kicked out with all my might, sending the vase crashing to the floor.
The sound was like a gunshot. Jason flinched for a split second, looking down at the mess. It was all the time I needed. I slammed my heel into his foot and bolted toward the master bedroom.
"Claire!" he roared, lunging after me.
I burst into the room and locked the door, but it was just wood. He would be through in seconds. I turned to the bed. Ethan was sitting up—he had somehow managed to get his legs over the side of the bed, his face drenched in sweat.
"Get behind the bed!" Ethan commanded, his voice raw but sharp.
"I can't leave you!"
"I have a weapon," he said, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulling out a heavy, steel-plated heavy duty flashlight.
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The door splintered. Jason stood there, his eyes glowing with murderous rage. He raised the gun, but before he could fire, Ethan hurled the heavy steel flashlight with the precision of an athlete. It struck Jason square in the temple.
Jason crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
