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“Let her go, or what?’ Jack goaded.
He pressed the knife point into my neck, and I gasped. It wasn’t the point that hurt, it was the way his knuckle was pushing into my windpipe. Cayden’s body only tensed more at the sound, and then he was nodding. His eyes flew to mine. He held my gaze in his, reassuring me.I wasn’t alone. He wasn’t leaving without me.
“Okay, tell me what you need me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“I think you need to make it right. You left me after all I’ve done for you. You need to make up for that.”
“Okay. I will. What do you want me to do?” Cayden’s voice was taut with anger and frustration.
Jack considered and turned us so Beckett, Asher, and Marcus could see the knife under my chin. “I want you to kneel, and your little friends better stay back, or else the coach’s daughter will have an accident she won’t recover from.”
Cayden held out a hand to his friends. “Stay back, don’t try anything… this is between me and him.” Then he met my frantic eyes and slowly sank to his knees on the scrubby dark grass.
It hurt to see him capitulate to his monstrous foster father.
Gloating filled Jack’s voice as he spoke to Josh. “Give the boy a knife, there’s one in my boot.”
Josh paled, his fists clenching. “You were supposed to let Lily and me go as soon as Cayden showed up.”
Jack laughed, and the knife bit in. “Are you talking back to me? I’ll let you go when I damn well please, you stupid, spoiled fuck. I guess brains are hard to come by in Hade Harbor.”
“As fun as watching all this is – if it’s money you want, I can provide it,” Beckett interrupted confidently. “Name your price.”
Jack shook his head. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I want to see the boy bleed. He’s good at that. The knife,” he reminded Josh.
Josh took the knife from Jack’s boot, avoiding my eyes as I stared murder at the side of his face. He crossed to Cayden and threw the blade near him on the grass and then backed away.
“Please, don’t do this,” I pleaded, wriggling against Jack.
He pulled my hair hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.
“Shut the fuck up. Now, Golden Boy, let’s see how well you remember how to write.” He jerked his chin forward. “Lose the jacket.”
Cayden complied, stripping off his thick leather jacket and revealing a black T-shirt beneath.
He gripped the knife in his hand. “Well?”
“Hmm, now, let me think. I think the Cutlers were too kind, hiding their handiwork on your back…I think it should be right there on your arm, for the world to see. Worms should know their place. Write it, and make it good, or I’ll write it on her neck after she bleeds out.”
My stomach revolted as I realized what was happening. Jack wanted Cayden to carve a word into his arm with the knife. The same word that his previous foster family had written in flesh on his back.
“No! No – do something!” I screamed at Josh, Beckett, anyone who could help.
“No, don’t do anything,” Cayden said, his voice commanding as hell. He met my eyes. “He’s not playing. He’ll hurt her. No one does anything that endangers Lily.”
Holding my gaze, those heartbreaking words ringing through my head, Cayden put the tip of the knife to his inner arm and pressed in. Blood welled up. Josh staggered to the side and vomited on the grass. Asher tried to push forward, but Beckett held him back, his face solemn. Tears poured down my cheeks. The knife below my chin seemed less of a threat now, compared to the horror of watching Cayden write a word in his arm. I was so horrified and angry, I felt sick. My head spun.
I couldn’t make out what Cayden had carved, there was too much blood to see. His face was pale, but his eyes were determined.
He had sunk down on his haunches and seemed to cave inward as he moved to the next letter.
“Well done, boy, make it nice and big so everyone can see,” Jack goaded.
My sobs were the only sounds breaking the black stillness around us, until suddenly a clap sounded. Clap after clap, drawing closer, followed by a long whistle.
“You know what they say about size…if you care too much, you’re overcompensating for something.”
Jack spun me around, the knife digging in, to see who had joined us.
