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Viper chortled. “You poor bastard, you have no idea what’s going on, do you?”
Tristan wanted to punch the man in his face. Forget his bleeding wound, he wanted to hit the man and break his nose. His sister had disappeared and the man was laughing? When his own daughter had just returned?
Tristan hadn’t known men like this. He never wanted to know men like this. Men who could laugh with such evil.
He shuddered.
His father shoved the gun deeper into the man’s face. “Tell me! What do you know?”
The man chortled. “You want me to tell him, Bloodhound? Want me to tell him why you want to break the Alliance so bad?”
Tristan looked at the Boss, who’d stilled.
“Remember Reaper every time you think of opening your mouth, Viper.”
The other man bared his teeth but stayed silent.
Tristan’s father snapped his fingers. “What does that have to with my daughter?”
Viper shrugged.
And then Tristan’s father moved.
Before Tristan could blink, his father pulled his hand and shifted the gun, pointing it right at a small, chubby face and bright hazel eyes studying the gun in fascination.
Tristan couldn’t breathe.
His father’s shaking hand steadied, his eyes becoming completely black.
“You don’t tell me what I want to know,” his father said quietly, “she dies. Your daughter for my daughter.”
Tristan could only watch the scene in horror but stopped himself from thinking bad thoughts. His father was just bluffing. He was trying to find everything about Luna and playing the other man. Yes. That was it.
Maybe, Tristan could help him if Viper did something.
Swallowing down his nerves, stepping out from behind the pillar, Tristan stayed in the shadow, looking around.
His eyes landed on the gun lying towards his right on the small table against the wall. Without any thought, Tristan placed the knife gripped in his bleeding hand quietly on the wooden surface and picked up the gun. He didn’t know what kind it was, or how many bullets it had. But it was heavy in his small, shaking hands. It was heavy.
Yet, Tristan raised up his thin arms, pointing the gun at Viper, unlocking it like his father had taught him to do. He was ready to shoot the bad man who didn’t realize what a miracle he’d received when his daughter had come back to him. He would do anything, give anything away to have his sister back with him.
He wanted his sister back so much.
His father missed her too. That was why he was bluffing. That was why he was trying to get information in any way he could. Tristan understood that.
He just kept his hands steady even as they started aching, the bleeding gash on his palm throbbing.
Gritting his teeth so he wouldn’t make any noise, Tristan kept his eyes on the scene from the shadows. He saw the Viper’s eyes move to the Boss, saw the Boss shake his head ever so slightly, saw the man lean back again.
“I can’t tell you anything,” he said aloud, his voice controlled. “Do what you want to do.”
Blood rushed through his ears. The Boss’ men kept their guns on Viper’s men while his father kept his own gun pointed to the head of the little girl. Tristan understood his father’s motivation but he was unable to understand how these other men could do what they were doing, and why nobody else standing there did a thing to stop them.
How could a man do that to his own daughter?
Tristan swallowed, waiting for his father to lower his weapon and do something else.
He didn’t.
