There’s barely a second between my permission and hisquestion. He’d been thinking about it.
“Money,” I answer honestly. “A vendetta, probably. I don’t ask questions that I don’t need the answers to in order to do the job.”
His brow furrows deep. “If it’s money, then why am I still here?”
It’s another question. Ishouldmake him wait. But this feels like a Band-Aid that needs to be ripped off.
“Your uncle hasn’t paid the ransom.”
He stares at me.
Then he laughs. It’s harsh and disbelieving.
“That’s cute.”
“It’s accurate.”
“No, it’s strategic. You think if I believe he’s abandoning me, I’ll spiral. I’ll cry and beg. How very Saw of you.”
“He hasn’t paid,” I say again. Why, I’m not sure. Maybe because the sooner he believes me, the sooner he’ll accept it and the less I’ll have to deal with his panicking.
“That’s fucking bullshit.” His voice rises, but there’s still that edge to it, that deliberate sarcasm he uses like armor. “He wouldn’t not pay. That’s not who he is. The man once paid off a city inspector because he didn’t like the font on a violation notice. He pays. He won’t just abandon his dead brother’s son.”
I stay silent this time.
“He has the money,” Cason presses. “He’s probably trying to negotiate because he thinks he’s smarter than you. I bet he’s fucking right.”
He’s trying to get a rise out of me like he believes I’m purposefully doing to him.
It doesn’t work.
But he doesn’t stop.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
His jaw tightens. He looks away, blinking fast like he’s recalibrating. “He’s negotiating,” he says again. “That’s what they’re supposed to do, right? They stall. They pretend they don’t care so they don’t look desperate.”
“Maybe.”
“You’re fucking enjoying this!” he snaps suddenly, eyes cutting back to mine. “Don’t strain yourself with words or anything. You just like watching me try not to lose my mind.”
“I’m just giving you information.”
“No, you’re dangling it like a chew toy!” He jerks against the cuff in frustration, metal scraping against the pipe.
“Well,” I start, grinning faintly, “you have been a pretty good dog all chained up for me.”
He bares his teeth, trying to keep some semblance of sarcasm and snark amidst his rising fury. “Maybe I should start biting.”
My chest rumbles with quiet laughter.
Looking away again, he shakes his head. “He wouldn’t leave me behind. He wouldn’t.”
“Family can surprise you.”
“Yeah?” His laugh is shaky and brittle. “You speaking from experience, or is that just from one of those AITA posts where the guy locks someone in his basement and still thinks he’s the victim? Daddy issues that bad?”
