“Me. I did.” Ransom, a soldier who’s been with the Crossorganization for at least five years, speaks up. He holds his hands up, palms out, but throws a mug in Ember’s direction. “The order that came down was to bring her in by any means necessary. She hit me first and tried to run, so I had to do what I had to do. I mean, she’s a traitor. She killed Marcus and that’s why we’re bringing her down here in the first place, so I didn’t think it mattered. My bad, Prince.”
“Your bad?” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Your bad, huh?”
“Yeah, I—”
I snatch my gun out and stop whatever bullshit he’s about to say with a bullet to the eye. His body jerks, dropping backward. His skull cracks against the floor with a loud thud. Not satisfied with the shot to the eye or the TBI from that fall, I stride over to him and pump four more bullets into him—one to each hand he used to touch her, one to his mouth for speaking that stupid-ass shit, and the last to the forehead for fucking thinking.
Is the anger still eating at me in big, gulping flames logical? Especially since if Ember doesn’t give me the information I’m seeking, I’ll do worse with the instruments waiting on the tray? No, but I don’t give a flying fuck. No one touches her but me.
Mine.
Even despite the circumstances, the word shimmers in my head. Again, the shit is irrational considering I’m here to carry out the only punishment her actions demand. But I don’t give a fuck. I’m the leader of Cross. I introduced her as my fiancée. No one gets to touch her but me. Even if it’s to snuff out her life in retribution for the one she took.
Shit.
Why hadn’t she told me? Trusted me? Maybe, just fucking maybe, we could’ve avoided this together. But her silence and my position have placed us here, in an untenable situation that has only one outcome.
Another blast of anger sears me from the inside out—at her, at myself, at Michelle, at this fucking family.
Gotdammit.
I retrace my path and approach her, not stopping until the toes of my shoes bump the pointed ones of her stilettoes. Staring down at her, I could hate her. I almost do. She makes me weak—sheismy weakness. And I can’t afford to let everyone know it.
“You’ve been lying to me, Ember,” I growl.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tips her head back, nothing—not rage, fear, guilt—reflected in her face. Only her eyes order me to go fuck myself. I lied. There’s the rage, the confusion. The hurt.
You could’ve been honest with me. Fucking come to me before deciding to kill Marcus.The words slam against my skull like bloodied, bruised fists. Shit, I would’ve done it for her if she’d asked.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” I shift closer, curl my fingers around the back of the chair, and lean down over her. Close enough that I glimpse the green striations in her eyes but far enough away that she can’t exact any damage to my face. “Nothing jogs that big, beautiful brain of yours? You can remember formulas to engineer complex compounds but not what that pretty mouth has been lying about for weeks? No, ma. I ain’t buying it.”
Instead of shrinking away from me, she leans forward as far as the zip cuffs binding her to the arms and legs of the chair will allow.
“I speak English, Spanish, French, and Mandarin, but not riddles. Say what you mean.”
“Look where you are, ma. You sure you want to talk shit right now?”
“Prince, man, that’s your girl. Maybe you should take a beat—”
My head jerks in Kareem’s direction. “Right now, she’s a possible traitor and threat. If you don’t have the stomach for this, get out. Now. But don’t fucking interrupt me again. We good?”
Kareem shoves off the wall and returns my stare, but after several long seconds, he nods. “We’re good.”
No one else moves to interrupt or speak on Ember’s behalf, although Makeda rolls her lips as if she’s trapping an objectionbehind her teeth. She crosses her arms, widening her stance as she scans the others, disgust saturating her face.
“Now.” I return my attention to her. “You ready to tell me the truth, or do you need some incentive?”
Eli wheels one of the trays over, stopping at the edge of the plastic sheet, and Ember’s gaze flicks in that direction. Panic widens her eyes, but she still mugs me.
Gotdamn.
She’s going to make me hurt her.
“I’m a traitor and a threat now?” She scoffs. “Just this morning, I was an asset to this organization and a fiancée. That went left quick.”
“You got jokes.”
“No, I got no fucking clue why I’m here.”
