"Before what? Before Parker left you?" Nash pressed.
"Before I married her!" Tyler spit out. "Before Mom decided I needed a wife, before Parker ruined everything. I want the life I had when you were off with your startups and Dad was at the company all the time, and it was Mom and me, and she gave me everything I wanted. Back when she loved me the best."
Nash stared at his younger brother with no expression. "You're going to kill us so Mom will put you back in the will?"
"The will, the penthouse, the Hamptons, her accounts, everything! She didn't have the right to kick me out! I'm the one who paid attention to her, who spent time with her. I deserve all of it."
Nash's shoulders shook. Was he laughing? Now did not seem like the right time to laugh at the homicidal maniac holding the gun.
"Taking Mom to tea once a week after a game of tennis doesn't entitle you to drain the family coffers, you fuckhead. She loves you. God knows why. If you put in the tiniest effort to get yourself together, she would have given it all back. Only in your fucked up brain is it easier to kill three people than to get a job."
Tyler raised the gun, making a production of pointing it at Nash's head. My insides froze. The tiniest squeeze of his finger, and it was all over. Tyler liked skeet shooting. No way he'd miss at this range. The bullet he'd put in Bryce hadn't been luck.
Nash didn't seem to care. He rolled his shoulders back, as if we had all the time in the world. "A fire won't erase the shell casings. They'll still know someone shot us."
Tyler shrugged, his eyes flashing to Bryce and the rapidly spreading pool of blood beneath him. "Then I'll put the gun in his hand and everyone will think he did it. It's common knowledge he hated his cousins, and he admitted he was behind the dumbwaiter prank."
"Everyone knows the dumbwaiter was your idea," Nash countered. "Bryce told us everything. Why don't you put the gun down? You can still get out of Heartstone. We'll stay right here, and you can run. The rest of Hawk's team is still in the house. You know they heard that gunshot."
A tremor went through Tyler, his white teeth biting into his lower lip as he digested Nash's words. "Maybe. Maybe not." He shrugged again, shaking off his unease. "But you're right, I might as well get this done. Eventually, that ambulance will get here and someone will come looking for you. Good thing I brought this."
Tyler pulled a small metal can from his pocket, the label faded, rust eating away at the bottom. "Sewing machine oil," he said, his eyes bright with laughter. "I found it right next to the sewing machine in the closet. A little of this and the fire will take your bodies in no time. Won't even look suspicious."
His grin reminded me of a boy looking for a pat on the head at having aced a tough math problem. If he hadn't been about to shoot me, I might have felt sorry for him.
"You're pathetic," I said, resisting the urge to flinch as the gun swung to me. "You don't have the first clue about love or family. Poor Claudia. You think you love her when all you want is to bleed her dry." A cough seized me and I pulled my hands from Bryce, afraid I'd press too hard as I gasped for breath.
"It's going to be nice," Tyler mused, "to never hear your nagging voice again. You ready for that divorce you've been begging for? Here it comes."
His arm raised another inch, his finger tightening on the trigger. I looked at Nash, his face the one I wanted etched in my mind as I died. Weirdly, he took a step back, edging to the side of the room. Tyler, eagerly soaking in my fear, didn't notice.
"I love you," I said to Nash, not caring that Tyler would hear. I had one breath left, and I needed to say it. Needed him to know.
"Shut the fuck up, you stupid little whore," Tyler spat out.
He pulled the trigger.
I flinched, eyes squeezing shut, keeping them closed even after the room shook with a thud, even after Nash was there, hooking his hands under my arms and pulling me to my feet.
"You're okay. Hawk got him. Parker, look at me."
I forced my eyes open and looked up at Nash. "Tyler?"
Nash's eyes shifted to the floor, then back with a wince. "Hawk got him," he repeated.
"He didn't shoot me?" I asked, pretty sure he hadn't, but I couldn't erase the barrel of the gun aimed at me, the squeeze of his finger on the trigger.
In answer, Nash stepped back. Hawk was there, running his hands lightly over my body, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. "Too close," he grunted, "but we got lucky. Now we need to get you to the hospital." Before I could argue, Hawk slanted a dark look my way. "Smoke inhalation. Hospital. Now."
"Okay," I whispered, looking at Nash. "Can you give me a ride?"
"Anywhere you want to go, sweetheart. Always."
ChapterForty-Two
PARKER
Ididn't look at Tyler's body as Nash rushed me from the room. It was enough to know he was wasn't getting back up. Hawk stayed with Bryce, waiting for the ambulance I could hear in the distance.
