Chapter 7 - The Brass Lamp
"No!" I screamed, grabbing the iron railing of the hidden staircase and trying to pull myself back up. "Vincent, you cannot leave me! You promised!"
Vincent knelt at the top of the stairs. Gunfire was tearing through the plaster walls of the study behind him, raining white dust over his shoulders.
"I promised I'd always come home to you, Ellie," he said, his voice breaking. "And I did. I made sure the light was on."
"Don't do this!" I sobbed, reaching for his hand.
He caught my fingers, pressing them hard to his lips. "Take care of Maria. Take care of the boy. I love you, Eleanor. More than my own life."
He pulled his hand away and hit the release mechanism on the wall.
The heavy oak bookshelf swung violently shut.
The darkness was instant and absolute. The heavy wood muffled the sounds of the gunfire above us to a dull, terrifying roar.
I beat my fists against the back of the bookshelf, screaming his name until my throat was raw. But the locking mechanism was completely sealed.
"Ellie, stop," Maria wept from the darkness below me. "If you make noise, they'll hear us."
I slid down the cold concrete steps, pulling my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands. The man I had loved for thirty years was standing in a room above me, sacrificing himself so I could live.
"This way," Paulie’s gruff voice echoed from the bottom of the stairs. A small flashlight beam cut through the pitch black. "The tunnel leads out past the perimeter gates to a safe house. We have to keep moving."
"I'm not leaving him!" I cried.
"Mrs. Moretti," Paulie said firmly, shining the light on my tear-stained face. "The Boss gave me one order tonight. Keep you breathing. If you stay here and die, his sacrifice means nothing. Now, walk."
I looked at Leo. The ten-year-old boy was clinging to his mother, his eyes wide with sheer terror. He was the innocent collateral in a war he didn't understand.
I wiped my face, swallowed my agony, and stood up. "Lead the way."
We walked in silence through the damp, narrow concrete tunnel for what felt like hours, though it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes. Above us, the muffled sounds of the estate being torn apart slowly faded into the distance.
Finally, Paulie stopped at a heavy iron door. He punched a code into a rusted keypad. The door clicked and swung open, revealing the crisp, cold night air.
We stepped out into an old, abandoned maintenance garage about a mile off the main estate road. A black SUV with tinted windows was idling inside.
"Get in," Paulie ordered.
Maria climbed into the back seat with Leo. I hesitated at the door, looking back toward the faint glow of fire illuminating the treeline in the distance. My home. My life. Burning to ashes.
"Get in, Mrs. Moretti," Paulie said softly.
Suddenly, the headlights of another car swept across the dirt road leading to the garage.
Paulie instantly raised his weapon, stepping in front of me.
A silver sedan sped toward us, throwing gravel into the air as it slammed on the brakes. The driver's side door burst open.
My breath stopped.
Vincent stumbled out of the car.
His white shirt was soaked in blood, a dark, spreading stain blooming across his left shoulder. He was clutching his arm, panting heavily, but he was alive.
"Vincent!" I screamed, running across the concrete floor and throwing myself into his arms.
He groaned as my weight hit his wounded shoulder, but he wrapped his good arm around me, burying his face in my hair.
"I'm here," he rasped, kissing the top of my head repeatedly. "I'm right here, Ellie. I'm okay."
"You're shot," I sobbed, pressing my hands frantically against his chest.
"It's a through-and-through," Paulie said, examining the wound quickly. "We need to get him to the doc."
Vincent nodded, leaning heavily against the SUV. He looked into the back seat, seeing Maria and Leo safe. A massive wave of relief washed over his pale face.
Then he reached into his blood-stained pocket and pulled something out.
He held it out to me.
It was the little brass lamp from our living room window.
May you like
The cord was severed, the shade was slightly dented, and the base was smeared with his blood. But he had saved it.
"I told you," Vincent whispered, a faint, exhausted smile touching his lips. "I’ll always come home to you. And I brought the light with me."
