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"You can't be serious." Doug breathed, keeping his arm behind him and wrapped around James protectively. He felt her slide off the desk and hang onto his tux jacket, something long in her hand. "You saw his journal, what he wanted to do. Do you even know the evidence the police has against your son?"
"Yes, I'd like to discuss that." Garrett stated, lifting the gun from his side to point at Doug and James. "Because, Gordon didn't have the resources to kidnap you, let alone hide you away in his room. I think that you wanted revenge on my son for stabbing you, and you decided his life needed to end." He glanced at Doug. "Or, was that your plan because your girlfriend decided to go out with someone her own age?"
Doug scoffed. "Gordon was a sick psychopath who intended to impregnate James that night, and you funded his obsession. I found your trail of money. I know each and every girl that Gordon even breathed on wrong."
Garrett's gun lowered and fired a shot, sending a bullet just above Doug's knee. "Doug!" James screamed before his body fell back against hers. She caught him with her arms, but his weight sent them both to the ground. His body trapped hers to the floor as he grunted in pain. She held him tighter though when Garrett walked up to them, the barrel of the gun still pointed at Doug.
"I've done my own digging, Stamper." Garrett seethed, his hand starting to shake. "I know that James was having a love affair with Edward Meechum and screwed you the same day. You may have been looking into me, but I had people on the inside watching you too."
James watched as Garrett lifted his gun, twisting it in his hand as he raised his arm quickly. "No!" She closed her eyes and turned away when Garrett whipped the gun back, cracking Doug in the temple with the butt of it.
Doug and Claire both jumped and froze in the hallway when they heard the gunshot. The party music was still lively behind them, and nearly everyone was leaving or too drunk to register the noise. Claire reached out, grasping onto Francis's arm before they heard a gun cock behind them, Brighton's voice gruffly ordering them. "Keep moving."
Francis pulled Claire closer to him and closed his eyes when he heard James cry out from inside the Oval office. "It's not too late, Brighton. You can make this right."
"Move!" His gun jabbed into Claire's back, making her gasp and straighten at the contact.
Francis resisted the urge to bludgeon the secret service member as the entered the office, finding Doug's unconscious body on the floor by the desk and Garrett smirking with a gun in his hand pointed at their tear-stained daughter held captive by his feet. His other hand was around her neck, fidgeting with James's strangled and rapid breathing. "Welcome to the party, Frank, Claire. We're down a man on the fun, but we'll still make the most of it."
Garrett made a motion with his chin, causing Brighton to grab hold of Claire by her hair and make his way over to James. Garrett moved aside as Brighton shoved Claire onto the floor and stood behind the two. He trained his gun on James even as Claire moved to pick herself up to be close to her. Garrett's hand slipped from James's throat, resulting in her coughing and breathing deeply. Francis's blood boiled at the scene, and Garrett's words were only making the flame stronger. "You've got quite a family, Frank. It's actually very brilliant the way you played this. The kidnap, rapes, physical evidence, even the small details like the picture frame." He shook his head. "You gave my son too much credit. He wasn't smart enough to carry all of that out. I didn't realize it was all a setup until you were in my office."
"I will end you." Francis stated, his words laced with the threat of murder. "This was my doing, so let's leave it between us."
"I'd love to, Frank, but you didn't just ruin my career." Garrett shook his head before resting a hand on Francis's shoulder. "You see. Your wife ruined my marriage with my wife, putting ideas in her head about marriage counseling and the alleged things Gordon had done. Your daughter murdered my son in his own home, set him up to be the most despised person in America. She truly is yours, isn't she?" Patting his shoulder, Garrett took a step back. "I'll tell you what. I'm a nice guy. I can be reasonable. So, I'll give you the choice of who dies first. Claire or James? Wife or daughter?"
Francis turned to Garrett. "You really expect me to pick between the two people I love most in this world?"
Garrett shook his head with a smile. "Of course, how inconsiderate of me." He wiped off the barrel of the gun before raising it. "I'll choose for you."
James's eyes widened when Garrett moved his gun towards Claire and herself. "Daddy!"
Claire wrapped his arms around James to shield her before looking up to see Francis lunge forward, his body taking the blow of the bullet and toppling him to the ground. "Francis!" She closed her eyes when his body hit the floor with a thud. She heard him wheeze and cough before opening her eyes again to see Garrett staring down at him, his gun hanging loosely by his side. "This changes nothing about you or your son. If anything, this seals your fate." Her voice shook as she tried to keep her composure. She did everything in her power to keep from looking at the blood soaking into Francis's shirt and his eyes blinking completely out of it.
"Your daughter did that when she named my son her rapist." Garrett gritted out. "If she's going to claim a Walker raped her the rest of her life, I will make sure it actually happened." He looked up at Brighton. "Give me the girl."
"No!" Claire shouted, hanging onto James harder. She yelled out when Brighton grabbed her again, trying to rip her away from James. As Garrett was nearing, she felt James slip something long into her hand, keeping it pressed against her arm to hide it in the struggle. Francis's letter opener.
James screamed when Garrett grabbed her by the arm and drug her back towards the desk. "Let go of me!"
"No!" Claire fought against Brighton, even as he lifted her up onto her feet and tried to restrain her. "Stop! Don't touch her!"
"Watch me." Garrett flung James down onto the desk, knocking the wind out of her, before reaching his hand under her skirt. Shoving his gun into under her chin, he lifted enough material to reveal the scar on her thigh that Gordon had left her with. "Gordon did this. He wasn't perfect, but he was sick. He needed help, not death. And, you people killed him."
James whimpered when Garrett started moving his hand further up her body. "Get off of me!" She lifted her leg to thrust her knee into his chest, but his arm wrapped around her thigh. He took a step further between her thighs, pushing himself against her. "Stop!"
Claire yelled before Garrett's hand could disappear completely under her daughter's skirt, and her words made him freeze. "Take me!"
Garrett's eyes slowly moved to Claire. She had stopped fighting Brighton, standing with pleading, watering eyes. "What?"
"Mom, don't." James pleaded before Garrett shoved her face against the desk, a yelp crying out from her throat.
"Take me." Claire repeated on a breath. "I know James killed Gordon, but it was our idea. If she didn't do it, we would've killed him anyway. You can do whatever you want to me for that if you let James go." She glanced up at James, seeing the tears pool in her eyes as they met hers. "Kill me if it will bring you some peace. Just leave my daughter alone." She saw the indecision in Garrett's eyes. "Take me instead of her."
James felt the barrel of the gun lift from her skin, raising up as Garrett turned fully towards Claire, and lunged at him. Claire let the letter opener blade slip through her fingers to grasp the handle and turned to plunge the item into Brighton's sternum. His blood oozed out onto the handle, and his body caved in on itself. She grabbed his gun and turned to see James and Garrett struggling over his gun. With a clear shot to his back, she fired.
The gun was yanked from his grasp into James's as he fell to the ground, his breathing shallow. He landed between Doug's and Francis's unconscious bodies and looked up as Claire stood over him, pointing the gun down at him. "You fucking bitch." He managed to gasp out.
"Fuck you, Walker." Claire aimed the gun at his chest. "It's our turn."
She fired the weapon, the bullet lodging in his chest and causing his body to go motionless. She took a shaky step back, finally allowing air to fill her lungs as if she had been holding her breath. Her moment to realize what had just happened though was short lived as James sat up on the desk to her right. She quickly set the gun down beside her, taking the gun from James, and hugging her tightly. "Jesus, James. Are you okay, honey?"
James nodded into her mother's shoulder, staring down at the four unconscious bodies on the floor. "I'm fine."
Claire kissed James's hair before looking back and rushing to Francis, placing her hands over his still bleeding abdomen. "Call for help. We need to get them to the hospital."
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