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“Just to hurt Dawg,” he agreed, hatred flashing across his expression. “Just because he’s the reason my father was killed, the reason my grandfather was killed. If that bitch Chandler Mackay was married to hadn’t been so conniving, then my father and my uncle would have had the inheritance they deserved. It should have belonged to my father.”
The child of an incestuous relationship. Johnny Grace’s parents had been Dawg’s father and his aunt, Nadine Mackay Grace. And after Chandler’s death, she had been her other brother’s lover as well. Some said the two brothers shared her before Chandler died in a fiery vehicle accident.
“That wasn’t Dawg’s fault, nor was it mine,” she tried to point out logically, working her way slowly around the dining room table.
“It was Dawg’s fault my father was killed,” he sneered, watching her carefully, like a jackal moving in for the kill. “Natches killed my father to save Dawg and his whore wife. He didn’t give him a chance to live, didn’t give me a chance to know him.” Rage filled his voice. “He didn’t have to kill him.”
Johnny Grace would have never stopped. Leaving him alive would have ensured that Dawg and Christa faced the same danger later. And possibly Natches and Rowdy as well. Johnny’s hatred was just as deep and just as all-consuming as Luther’s was.
“And who will you blame for killing me, Luther?” she cried, as though fear were getting the better of her. “There’s no one here to brainwash. No one to take the fall for killing me.”
“But you’ll still be dead,” he snarled, his lips drawing back from his teeth, the dark blond of his hair falling over his forehead carelessly as he gave his head an enraged shake. “It doesn’t matter who takes the blame or if no one does. You’ll be dead, Zoey.”
“Because I’m the only one you could get to?” Just a little farther.
She just had to get closer to the end of the table.
Luther laughed at the accusation. “You were easy, I’ll admit. As I said, though, Laken would have been easier, but no challenge. She’s just a child, after all. What challenge would a kid be?”
He lifted the gun, aiming it at her heart. “Stay still, Zoey. Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be.”
The utter ridiculousness of the statement astounded her.
“What? You want me to make killing me easy for you?” She questioned him incredulously. “Are you serious, Luther?”
He frowned at the question. “I’m actually very serious. There’s no need to make this harder on both of us. You’ll only upset me and cause me to hurt you further. There’s no need for that.”
She blinked back at him. Standing completely still, Zoey tilted her head and frowned back at him. “Were your parents siblings as well? Because that’s completely crazy.”
A dark, heavy flush washed from his neck to his hairline as fury snapped into his gaze and contorted his expression.
“I’m not crazy,” he yelled, his tone defensive, so much so that she guessed she must have hit a nerve. “You didn’t even know who I was. No one knew who I was.”
She had to laugh at that. “Luther, everyone knows who was behind what happened to me last year, just as they know what you tried to do. Did you actually believe Rigsby could make me stay silent about it?”
“No . . .”
“He told every secret the two of you thought you could keep.” Lifting her arms from her sides, she watched his gaze jerk to the movement. “I didn’t forget it, as he told you I would. All his bragging ensured you would fail. Why do you think he tried to kill me?”
“I told him not to do it.” A pout pulled at his lips, though the weapon never wavered. “I warned him not to try it, even when he followed you and Billy. That little bastard’s too good a driver. I warned him of it.”
“And his brother’s always close, ready to protect him,” she reminded him. “Clay and his pack killed Rigsby and his hired gun. And they’re looking for you now. Do you really think you can hide from him? Or from the three men who called me their little witch?” She finally asked gloatingly. “That’s four biker packs, Luther. And three of them are renowned for their mercilessness when they go hunting out of vengeance. They’ll make you hurt, for a long time, before they kill you.”
Something flickered in his gaze then. Fear. Uncertainty.
Zoey remained quiet. Gloating further, threatening or warning him further would only harden his resolve. Let him think about it a minute.
“You think you’re so smart,” he accused her, about a minute later actually. “You think that’s going to keep you alive?”
She looked heavenward with a sigh, then glared back at him. “I think you should have introduced yourself before you decided to become my personal headache, because you’re every bit as damned stubborn as any other Mackay male I’ve ever met, Luther,” she snapped, propping one hand on her hip and gripping the edge of the table with the other hand. “You would have gotten along with the rest of them fine.”
The gun lifted.
“I wouldn’t,” the dark, inherently murderous tone of voice suggested from the hall. “It could get you killed.”
Doogan.
He hadn’t left her. He was still there. She wasn’t alone with a crazy Mackay. A Mackay male was bad enough. A crazy Mackay male was worse than a rabid animal.
