Page 154 of Stepbrothers' Darling


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Chapter Fifty Eight

Blair

Ifreeze, staring at Cyrus whose eyes are narrowed. If that’s what death looks like, I’d be running if I were Mr. Andrews, but he doesn’t care that every single one of my stepbrothers appears like they are going to murder him painfully as soon as they get free, which they are trying. The chairs, however, are sturdy, and the wood squeaks as they attempt to untie their hands and legs.

I need to help them.

It’s my worst fear. They are in danger because of me. Unlike Meredith, though, I’m here this time. I won’t let Mr. Andrews kill them, not like Lucas and my friends. I’m not tied up this time either, and that’s his mistake because I’m not a scared little girl anymore, I’m a fighter, and he just touched the only three things I still care about in this messed up world.

“Let them go,” I demand, trying to be nice first, even though I know it won’t work. At the same time, I reach for my keys in my pocket, the ones with a knife on it. I slowly slide my hand down my side, playing with the jean pocket before slipping inside. I try to stay still so he doesn’t see.

His breath blows across my neck again, making me shiver. “And why would I do that? They are the last things in my way, inourway of being together.”

I almost sag at the fact he isn’t going after Faye, Lexi, or Allegra. Wiggling my fingers in my pocket, I curse myself for wearing such tight jeans and try to keep him talking so I have more time. “When are you going to learn? I don’t want to be with you.” I finally touch the smooth silver and pull them free, hiding them before picking out the blade. Holding it tightly, I grin at my men. “I want you to fucking leave me alone!” I yell and turn, swiping out.

He ducks, but it slices across his eye, and he yells before backhanding me. My head slams to the left from the blow, but I hold onto the knife, ignoring the pain flaring through my face. I look back at him and slice again, but he’s too quick. He grabs my arm and twists my wrist, making me scream and release the keys. I snarl in anger as I kick out at him, hitting him in the legs over and over as I yank my injured wrist from his grip. Twisting, I bring my elbow back into his face before running.

I’m trying to lure him away from them.

I hear his groan, but he doesn’t follow as I press my back to the kitchen wall and wait. Shit, it didn’t work.

“I’ll kill them, Blair. Get back here, or I’ll start with the pretty one.”

“Who’s the pretty one-oh wait, It’s me isn’t it?” Bray taunts. “I know it is, you hear that Blair? I’M PRETTY!” There’s a smacking noise followed by a grunt.

Bray?

Fuck, fuck, think.

I hear them trying to tell me to run, but fuck that. I scan the kitchen knives, but they are too big, he would notice. No, he undoubtedly has a weapon. I need to think smart. It worked before, so maybe it will work now?

Should I play nice? Act how he wants? I need to fake it and get close to end this. But I’m not stupid, so I scurry across the kitchen and pull open a drawer. Wincing at the slight noise, I wait and listen, and when nothing happens, I quickly pocket a corkscrew and shut the drawer before moving back down the corridor.

Outside the dining room, I breathe deeply, calming my racing heart.You can do this, Blair. Do what it takes to save them.

I step from the shadows and into the doorway. I was right, he has a knife to Bray’s throat. Cyrus screams and Asher’s eyes close in pain when they see me.

“Don’t,” I whisper.

“You protect him?” he snarls, sliding the blade just enough to cut him.

“No.” I flutter my lashes. “You. If you kill them, the police won’t ever stop. They are rich and connected. How can we be together if they catch you?”

He frowns, thinking through my words, and I know it’s now or never. I step closer, and he tightens his hold on Bray’s hair, narrowing his eyes while Bray looks at me with nothing but love, as if he knew I would never leave them. He holds nothing against me; he just loves me wholly.

Completely.

“Don’t you want to be with me?” I ask softly, peering up through my eyelashes to seem more innocent and cover my contempt.

“They are in our way! And they made you touch them,” he spits, and I realise he’s not going to just let them go. I need to convince him.

“You’re right, they did, which is why I’m so glad you’re here,” I profess, my voice soft. “Take me away, please?” I hold out my hand, and he looks from it to me.

“You’re mine,” he snaps, pressing the knife firmer against Bray, who winces and makes a noise. It drags Mr. Andrews’ attention back to him, and I panic.

“Make me yours again?” I blurt, glancing between him and them. “Please, Mr. Andrews, Ryan, I’ve been waiting. I was so mad at you for leaving me.”

“Never again,” he promises and lets go of Bray. I can finally breathe again, but then he walks towards me, and I have to rack my brain on what to do. I try to keep up the charade, even though it makes me sick.

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