Free The Escape by Kristabel Reed

him.
    “Your threats are hollow, Theodore,” Gabrielle spat at him. Her arm ached but she barely felt it over her own anger. “You’ll never be able to reach us again. I had a note sent to warn you and that is all I owe you!”
    He didn’t reply, Gabrielle wondered if he could speak over the wrath consuming him. Theodore wrenched her to the doors and opened them. Margaux and Annette stood in the foyer, looking worried but didn’t try to stop them.
    Gabrielle couldn’t feel betrayed by them; they didn’t know the true Theodore, and she didn’t want to involve them in her familial dispute for fear her brother would turn on them. The look of fear in their eyes caught her even as Theodore hauled out the front door.
    His carriage awaited them on the street and her heart sank. Gabrielle frantically looked around, but knew none would come to her aid. Across the street, several citizens gathered in a rush of curiosity and concern. One called for the police.
    For a wild moment, Gabrielle thought that someone would see her, but it didn’t matter. As her brother, Theodore had every right to treat her as he wished. She looked from the driver to the footman, but neither man so much as twitched in her direction.
    “You think I didn’t see that bastard you whore yourself to?” Theodore spat as he opened the carriage door.
    Panic froze her, when Theodore tried to shove her into the carriage, but Gabrielle fought him. Eric!
    “What did you do?” she screamed at him.
    Whirling on him, Gabrielle fought with renewed fury. Clawing, kicking, snarling at him, she attacked. Theodore tried to stop her, to contain her fight, but she refused. He’d done something to Eric, harmed him enough to be confident he wouldn’t interfere.
    And with André making their final arrangements at the Club…
    Gabrielle stumbled forward. Margaux and Annette grabbed hold of her and for one startled moment she thought the sisters had pulled her from Theodore’s grip. Breathing hard, she focused on her brother, not at all confident that the Fortiers’ presence would stop him from taking her again.
    André and Eric flanked Theodore. Both looked furious, but Eric had blood matting his hair and staining his white cravat.
    Relief raced through her, but Gabrielle knew the look in her brother’s eyes. She didn’t know where it came from, or how he reached it so quickly, but suddenly Theodore held a pistol and aimed it directly at Eric.
    The crowd that had once gathered around the opposite street now did so about them. Murmurs of excitement crisscrossed them, but they didn’t move to intervene. Beside her, Annette and Margaux held her tightly, whether to keep her from Theodore, hide her from the ever-expanding crowd, or take her back inside Gabrielle didn’t know.
    “You should have been put to the guillotine long ago,” Theodore snarled. “But I won’t let either of you escape it now.”
    He stepped forward, pistol steady, but from his left, Gabrielle could see his gaze swing from André to Eric and back again. Theodore was an excellent marksman; when they’d been young and closer, before the Terror, before the guillotine, before her introduction to the Hellfire Club, he’d often practiced on their estate while Gabrielle enjoyed a picnic lunch and watched.
    He wouldn’t miss.
    “No one would blame me,” he added, clearly playing to the crowd.
    Gabrielle struggled against the sisters’ grip, desperate to stop what was about to happen.
    The shot rang out. Startled, Gabrielle tried to scream but no sound emerged. The crowd, so intent on watching this private spectacle unfold dropped into dead silence. Eyes frantic on her lovers, she looked from Eric to André and back again.
    Both looked unharmed. Theodore had crumpled to the sidewalk.
    On her right, Margaux calmly released the iron grip she’d had on her arm, and stepped away. Gabrielle looked in stunned amazement to her friend; Margaux nodded as if she shot people every day, but didn’t meet