Lizzy and Michael IV
Ten years have passed since their first encounter on the first day of high school, and Michael Bradford, the son of the multi-billionaire, has finally gotten his one and fervent wish.
Now pursuing a relationship with the one girl he has always wanted to, Michael believes that he has achieved all that he has set out in life. And he will do everything in his power to keep Lizzy from ever having to frown. That is, until the ghost from Lizzy’s past threatens to claim her away from him once more.
In the fourth, and last instalment of this unique story of friendship, Lizzy and Michael finally divide and conquer their greatest fear together; experience first-hand how a problem shared is a problem halved; that happiness can be found in the last place they look.
He opened his eyes to find himself staring at the barrel of a gun, a rattling sound resonating in his ear as he tried to move his hands. He looked down, finding each of his wrists being cuffed to the armrest of the chair.
The sound of a gun being cocked made him snap his head up abruptly, his eyes bulging out in sheer horror as he saw Lizzy sitting to his left, both hands restrained on her sides as well, her face as white as the painted wall behind her.
“The safe,” the thud holding the gun ordered gruffly.
This has happened before, Michael thought, still half-dazed, watching his best friend’s throat worked up and down. Oh, God, something bad is going to happen to Lizzy. Michael closed his eyes, feeling sick to the stomach.
“She doesn’t know,” Michael spoke rapidly as Lizzy’s face went a shade paler, staring at the gun moving closer the nozzle was a mere half-an-inch from her forehead.
Vividly, Michael relived the most horrifying moments of the Downtown robbery some two years ago, instructing the thuds to walk over to the other side of the office to remove the Rembrandt picture off the wall, giving the safe’s combination that silently triggered an alarm and therefore alerting the local police, all the while keeping one eye trained on the utterly petrified, helpless face beside him, lips pursed thin as the sharp blade of a pocket knife was digging into her soft, delicate skin.
“Let her go,” Michael growled sternly as soon as the thud strode back towards them, dumping the light brown duffel bag now bulging out with at least a million of his Father’s money to the carpeted floor.
Michael looked up to see his captor’s lips quirking into a cruel smile; a smirk he was certain he had encountered many times before. He found a pair of cold, green-gray eyes staring back at him, and the rock that had resided in his heart grew at least a tonne heavier, sinking his heart further until it rested on the bottom of his stomach.
Just as suddenly, his heart leapt to his throat, preventing him from naming his captor out loud, his mouth mouthing No, and perhaps all kind of expletives without making a single sound as Gordon Crane took two steps forward, gun still trained on Lizzy’s head.
There was one sudden, ear-deafening bang!, and even though no other sound had come out, he felt his throat was scraped raw and dry, crying out her name over and over as Lizzy fell to the floor, her hands now free from the restraining cuffs and the chair had miraculously disappeared.
He yanked his hands free, sparing only a moment’s thought as to how easy it was to break away from the cuffs before sinking to his knees, picking Lizzy off the blood-soaked floor, her weight was already half what it used to be, the pool of blood from her gunshot wound growing wider by the second.
“Lizzy! Lizzy! Hang on!” He watched in ultimate terror as Lizzy, drained dry of all blood, once again began to disappear from him, her white face fading, her weight now no more than a piece of A4 paper cradled in both his arms.
“No! Lizzy! Please…” he said, voice thick with tears. “Don’t leave me…”