“I couldn’t figure anything else to protect you. He was going to shoot you if you didn’t kill Jacob, and knowing you, you wouldn’t have. What else was I supposed to do?”
I squat, pulling my duffel from a hollow compartment under the sink, before placing it on the kitchen counter along with the gun.
“A bullet to the brain seems like a less painful option.”
“Come on, love!”
“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s happening to your father?”
“No! I’m going to ask you to forgive my words, because not a single one was true. Well, except for the fact you’re a one-of-a-kind fuck.”
How the hell can Atlas make me angrier while apologizing?
A nearby cucumber from the counter serves as my vegetable baton as I slap my boyfriend’s thigh with it, before throwing it to the ground, and unzipping the duffel to start rummaging through it to find the 4-Aminopyridine injections.
“Where do you keep the guns?” Dean asks.
“There are two in the safe in the bedroom upstairs. The code is Noah’s birthday. A Glock is taped under the left side of the bed. Also, there’s one in the vanity table, and one in my lingerie drawer... which neither of you will be going through. Both bathrooms have guns under the sinks. First-floor bedroom—inside each nightstand.”
“Were you preparing for a war?” Atlas asks.
“If I were, then I’d be severely under-armed.”
The guys are already going on an Easter egg hunt for the nearest gun when the syringe I’m clutching makes me shout out, “Stop! Everyone, get back for a moment.”
“Honey?” Atlas says with the same level of confusion everyone holds. But they do get back to the table, no further questions asked.
My boyfriend reaches for me, but the feral look I offer with a syringe is his hint that I’m not up for a hug.
“Don’t!”
I’m going to make him grovel for this until his hair turns white and he’s stepping over his ballsack.
Sidestepping him, I rush back to the guys.
“Sit!” I order Link, a step away from him.
“W-what?” He looks flummoxed.
“You just had to take that second piece of cake, didn’t you? Is your tongue numb?”
“I eat s-sweets when I’m s-stressed. What’s inside?” Link pointsat the syringe in my hand, slurring.
I think that answers my question.
“Magic. You’re going to be okay. I promise. What is it—a bite or two that you took?”
I stick the needle in his leg, and he winces. A disgruntled huff parts my knotted lips as I squat down beside Link.
“Raven’s going to kill me if she finds out I got you poisoned. Tell you what, you don’t tell her about this, and I keep my mouth shut about what you did with her skincare.” Life drains from Link’s face in an instant...notbecause of the toxin. “She had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t want to involve her. Raven loves you. You have to know that.”
“Do all of us need a shot?” Carter asks, before I’m back on my feet.
How could he assume I poisoned them all on purpose?
“No. I laced only part of the cake,” I say, and only then realize Link might not be the only one affected.
I stride for Dean and grab his wounded hand.
