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“More than ten measly grand,” he bites off sharply. “Ten grand is only a down payment. What I know about her is worth a helluva lot more than that. Think about it, Baine. I go to the press with what I know? They’ll feed off the headlines for weeks. Dominic Baine’s girlfriend, a white trash slut who got away with murder.”
I close my eyes at the grating, ugly words—all of them close enough to the truth that it won’t matter what Nick or I say to try to lessen their power. The damaging publicity for Nick will be inescapable. Unbearable.
He seethes beside me, his body radiating a palpable and growing violence. “If Avery had been the one to kill your child rapist of a father, he’d have had it coming.”
Rodney grins now. “Struck a nerve, did I, Baine? The old man always did have an eye for prime tail. And with her tits and ass, ‘specially back then, who could blame him for wanting a piece of that?”
“Fucking bastard.” Nick takes a menacing step forward.
“No. Nick, don’t!”
He stops abruptly, though not because of my sharp cry.
It’s the gun in Rodney’s hand that freezes Nick in place. He’s pulled it from the back of his waistband, and now brandishes it in front of Nick’s face.
“Oh, my God!” My voice reduces to a strangled whisper, terror arrowing through me to my marrow. “Rodney . . . please. Don’t do this.”
I don’t miss how Nick gradually moves me behind him, inserting himself directly between my body and the barrel of the loaded weapon. I want to shout for help, but the park is so empty, I’m not sure anyone would hear me. And there is no way I’ll risk Nick’s life by pissing Rodney off any more than he already is.
“You smug asshole,” he snarls. “You think you own the fucking world, don’t ya? You got all the money, but I got this.”
“Easy now, Rodney.” Nick slowly raises his hands, palms open in cautious surrender. “You’re right. This is your show now. You’re the one holding all of the cards here.”
“Damn straight.”
“So, tell me what you want. You know I can make it happen.”
Raw fear grips my heart as the seconds tick by in agonizing slowness. I don’t know how Nick can sound so calm and collected when I am trembling from head to toe, terrified of what my stepbrother will do.
That I am the cause of this whole, awful situation makes me want to retch.
It makes me want to scream.
But Nick’s strength grounds me. Right now, it’s the only thing I have to cling to as Rodney continues to hold the pistol on him.
“This isn’t the way you want to resolve this, Rodney. You’re here to do business, so let’s get it done. What’s it going to take to satisfy you?”
“Helluva lot more than ten thousand dollars.”
“Okay. So, what number do you have in mind?” Nick asks, his tone so rational anyone would think he was sitting in a boardroom, not standing at the killing end of a deadly weapon. “But let’s be clear. I’m talking about no more contact. No more stalking or threats against Avery. No more so-called accidents at the prison. What’s it going to take for you to leave Avery and her mother alone, Rodney?”
&n
bsp; “A hundred grand.”
Nick nods slowly. “A hundred thousand dollars. If I pay you that much, it’ll keep you away from us for good?”
“Maybe,” Rodney replies after a moment. “Maybe not.”
Nick slowly lowers his hands. “I’m willing to bet it will be.”
“Yeah?” he scoffs. “And how can you be so fucking sure?”
“Take a look behind you.”
Rodney swivels a glance over his shoulder, to where a group of no less than six armed police officers emerge from behind the carousel building and the surrounding trees.
I gape, just as much in shock as he is.
