“You don’t love me,” I say. “You have no idea what love is.”
Rory’s face twists.
Maverick’s hand closes around his first finger.
The snap is small.
Sharp.
Horrible.
Rory screams beneath Livy’s singing.
Maverick moves to the next finger.
“Maverick,” Rory sobs. “Please.”
“You ran them off the road.”
Snap.
Rory howls, bucking against the concrete.
“You shot my brother.”
Snap.
“You tied Amelia in a freezing basement.”
Snap.
“You took them from me.”
Snap.
Rory’s screams turn wet and broken, his hand ruined against the floor.
Maverick leans closer, voice low and steady.
“And you struck my daughter.”
For one second, everything stops.
Even Rory seems to understand that this is the part Maverick cannot step around.
The part that takes up most of his anger.
Maverick takes Rory’s thumb.
Rory starts crying harder.
“Please,” he gasps. “Please, don’t.”
Maverick’s face remains empty.
“You don’t fuck with my family and live to tell the tale.”
The final crack echoes through the basement.
