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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CYRUS
“He’s my brother, Carmen.” I can hear Carter whispering loudly, and I know he’s close. I can feel his presence, but he sounds so far away.
“And I don’t give a shit, Carter. He clearly wasn’t here to catch up and play fucking board games.”
“You don’t know that,” the other girl finally speaks, and I can hear the confliction in her tone. Like she’s trying to play both sides and show reason to both my brother and Spitfire.
I squeeze my eyes tight before opening them. Throbbing pain shoots from the back of my head, all the way down my spine, and hits my toes. I let out a groan, then try to move, only I can’t.
My vision is foggy at first, which doesn’t surprise me. This isn’t the first time someone has gotten the upper hand on me and knocked me out. But after a few blinks, what I’m bound with is crystal fucking clear.
“Seriously?” I groan again, and all their eyes shoot to me.
Carter and the blonde are sitting on the coffee table in front of me as Spitfire—or Carmen as I now know her—paces beside them, holding my gun. Wrongly, might I add. Her small hand is gripped around the barrel.
“Good morning, sunshine,” she quips.
I roll my eyes. “If you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask.” I wink at her, clearly fueling her rage.
“I’d rather not even look at you.”
I huff. “The furry handcuffs tell me otherwise, Carmen.” I say her name low and slow. It’s a warning. Now that I have that, it won’t be hard to get everything else I would need if she tried to run.
Carter speaks up. “They’re actually mine.”
I move my gaze to him and hold back a laugh as the girl next to him turns a bright shade of pink. She’s most definitely his girlfriend, like I suspected.
“Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” he asks, dropping the subject of the furry handcuffs around my wrists and the rope around the rest of my body.
“Maybe if you untie me.”
Carmen steps forward. “No. Don’t you fucking dare, Carter.”
She tries to stop him, but the girl stands and grabs her by the shoulders. “It’s fine. What is he going to do? He doesn’t have a weapon, and he’s outnumbered. Just let him talk and see what he has to say.”
Carter nods in agreement, then unravels the rope from around me before pulling a small key from his pocket to unlock the handcuffs. Once I’m free, I rub my wrists, trying to alleviate some of the soreness.
Carmen fixes the position she’s holding the gun, grabbing it by the handle, then points the barrel at me. “Talk.”
I smile at her, then lean forward in the chair I’m in, resting my elbows on my knees. “What are you going to do with that? Shoot me?” I challenge her.
Her chest heaves as she stares at me with utter disgust, but I can see through it. She likes this.
I stand and stretch to my full height before stepping toward her. Just like so many other times before, every time I step forward, she takes one back, until her back hits the wall, but it doesn’t stop me. I keep going until the barrel of the gun is digging into the center of my chest.
Wrapping my hands around the front of the gun, I can feel her trembles through the cold metal. “Go ahead, Spitfire. Do it.”
She inhales a deep breath through her nose and tries to hide the fact her knees are clenching together by pushing me away with the front of the gun. “Sit.” She nudges her head in the direction of the couch.
I shake my head. If only she knew I could have her disarmed in a matter of seconds. But she likes games, so I’ll play along for now. I hold up my hands in surrender with a smirk, then slowly back away until I’m to the couch.
I plop down, then push the chair I was in to the side with my foot. “What do you want to know?” Almost instantly, Carmen and Carter start talking at once while the other girl stays silent.
“Where have you been?”
“Did you kill Bernard?”
