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It’s more likely than Marcus somehow regaining consciousness and shooting him.
“Give us something else,” Ryland says, stepping closer to Natalie as he lowers his voice. With his broad shoulders, tattoos, and almost-black hair, he’s intimidating even when he doesn’t want to be. But right now, he clearly does want to, and Natalie visibly quakes as she leans away from him.
“I don’t know anything else!” she blurts.
“Think of something.”
His voice is cool and even, but a threat hovers just below the surface of his words.
Natalie’s eyes dart back and forth as if she’s searching for a way out, and her breathing quickens as she shakes her head. “I don’t know. I don’t! He never used a name. I never heard his whole conversation, just little pieces. But he talked about the plan. Whoever the other person was, they knew about all of it.”
Ryland stays right where he is, looming over her as he stares at her with hard, unblinking eyes for a long moment. Then he nods and steps back, although his posture doesn’t relax at all.
He believes her.
So do I.
Natalie might be a bitch, but part of what makes her such a bitch is her selfishness. Telling us everything we want to hear would benefit her in this moment. Especially now that she knows Carson is dead, she’s got no reason to try to protect him. It’s possible she’s trying to cover up for Dominic and whoever else was involved to avoid their reprisal—but the more immediate threat is us.
If she had more dirt, she’d spill it.
And she already gave us something. Maybe Dominic wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t killed Carson. Maybe it was this third player who did it.
“Look.” Natalie turns her attention to me, fixing me with a wide-eyed look. “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done it. But, I mean, come on. We do what we have to, right? We survive. You know that just like I do.”
My blood chills in my veins, numbing my whole body from the inside out as I blink at her.
No.
This fucking bitch didn’t just try to convince me that what she did was okay. That because she and I had shitty childhoods, that gives us the right to be shitty adults. That I would’ve gone along with it willingly if Marcus, Ryland, and Theo had come up with a plan to kidnap her and hold her hostage.
My heart thuds harder in my chest, crashing against my breastbone until it’s all I can feel.
Natalie lied to me. She betrayed me. She had a hand in every fucked up thing that happened over the weekend, and although she’s clearly afraid of Ryland and Theo, she’s not sorry.
Not even a little bit.
Fury explodes in my chest, flooding me with such pure rage that I literally see a wash of red in my vision for a second.
“Hold her.”
My voice doesn’t even sound like my own. It’s a deep-throated rasp, the only sound I can force past vocal chords that have gone as tense as the rest of me.
But neither Theo nor Ryland hesitate. The two men step forwa
rd in unison, each grabbing one of Natalie’s arms as they pin her against the wall.
Her green eyes flare wide with shock, and she struggles against their hold as it finally seems to dawn on her that these men aren’t the ones she should be most afraid of.
I am.
My fist flies out like a missile, cracking against her right cheek. Her head snaps to the side as a pained grunt spills from her lips, and I don’t wait for her to turn back to face me before I hit her again.
And again.
And again.
I haven’t been in a fist-fight since before I lost part of my right arm, so punching left-handed isn’t something I’ve perfected. But rage is a great substitute for skill.
