Chapter 13: The Struggle**
*BANG.*
The gunshot echoed like a cannon in the enclosed bedroom. The bullet grazed David’s left shoulder, tearing through his jacket and scorching his flesh, but the surge of adrenaline numbed the pain instantly.
David tackled Eleanor to the floor, his weight knocking the revolver from her grasp. The gun skittered across the polished floorboards and slid underneath the heavy dresser.
Eleanor fought with feral, desperate ferocity, clawing at David’s face and eyes with her sharp nails, screaming obscenities that bore no resemblance to the refined woman she pretended to be. ""I will destroy you! You have nothing! You are nothing!""
David pinned her wrists to the floor with one hand, using his other arm to immobilize her shoulders. He didn't strike her; he simply held her down with the immovable grip of a man who had built houses with his bare hands.
""It's over, Eleanor,"" David panted, blood dripping from his shoulder onto the floor. ""You're done.""
Downstairs, the front doors burst open. Heavy boots thundered up the staircase, accompanied by the urgent beam of tactical flashlights cutting through the darkness.
""Sheriff's Department! Weapons down!"" Deputy Miller shouted, bursting into the room with two other officers, weapons drawn.
""Get her off me! He’s trying to kill me!"" Eleanor shrieked, instantly attempting to switch back into her victim persona.
Miller looked at David, then at Eleanor, and finally down at his own radio, where the live audio stream of Eleanor’s confession was still crackling clearly through the dispatch frequency.
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""Eleanor Sterling,"" Miller said coldly, holstering his weapon and unclipping his handcuffs. ""You have the right to remain silent.""
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