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Maybe I could’ve found another way. There was hope of that until I received another black letter.
I refused to be drawn into this game again. Another human being’s life would not rest in my hands. Neither a life to take nor a life to save.
The new Letter Man or woman was about to lose their plaything.
The noose fell softly on my shoulders.
“I’ll stay psycho to the very end, bitch,” I said into the air. “But you’re not going to touch my sister.”
Taking a deep breath, I climbed onto the wooden banister.
See you soon, Gran.
I stepped off.
Chapter Seven
“It’s not going to be that easy, sweetheart.”
The rope pulled taut—wrenching my head up, and snapped.
I fell twelve feet to straw-covered concrete and landed hard. Pain zinged up my shoulder. “Ahh!”
“What did you think you were doing up there?”
Shadows moved in the dark, coming from all sides.
“What’s going on?” I cried, struggling to sit up. “Who’s there?”
“Who else?” They came into view.
Demons.
Darkness cloaked them. Shielding all but gleaming pools, lighting oddly in the beams filtering through the slates. At that moment, I understood why every Bedlam boogeyman story called their name. They weren’t of this world.
Arsenio, Cairo, Jacques, Legend, and Roan circled me. Arsenio pocketed the knife he used to cut my rope. The others didn’t.
Knives, bats, and propped on Cairo’s shoulder, a crossbow.
He grinned when he saw me looking. “Like it? Is it like the one you used?”
My blood ran cold. He knew.
“What do you want?” I was proud of my voice for not trembling.
“We’re going to make this real simple for you, de Souza,” Arsenio said. “We know you killed Cavendish and tried to pin his murder on—”
“I—”
Jacques pounced. His arms pinned me on either side, holding the bat tight to my throat. “Don’t interrupt. That’s very rude.”
I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw cracked. Jacques pressed hard on my hurt shoulder.
“As I was saying,” Arsenio continued. “You tried to get us arrested for— What were the charges, Legend?”
“Kidnapping, negligent homicide, or second-degree murder.”
I spoke through clenched teeth. “Pretty sure the first one was all you.”
Cairo stepped between us. “I considered throwing you at my father, but then I thought, where’s the fun in that? Whatever punishment the legal system comes up with for you, won’t be nearly as satisfying as what I’ve got planned.”
“I knew you wouldn’t be arrested.” My swallow bobbed against the wood. “Daddy wasn’t about to put his precious son and your little boy band in jail. But even if he did, you’d walk right out after they found my note. I confessed, Cairo,” I said. “I wasn’t going to let you go down for my crime. You can see for yourself.”
Roan broke off from the group. He came back down with my note in hand.
“See,” I said as Cairo read it. “I’m telling the truth. You and I are—”
Cairo crumpled and tossed it over his shoulder.
“—good.”
“We’re not even close to good. Why’d you steal my wallet if you were just going to confess?”
“Alright, I admit it. The recent string of threats and assaults made the idea of you rotting in jail while your dad bawled his eyes out very attractive. I didn’t want to kill him,” I cried. “Why should I go to prison for that twisted piece of shit?!” The scream ripped out of my heaving chest, surprising even me.
“Ahh. There it is,” Cairo said, crouching in front of me. “That look in your eyes.”
I looked away, face burning.
“That’s cold, Rain. You tried to run from your punishment by pinning it on me. Too pussy to follow through, you thought of another way to run.” He tugged on my rope. “By way of hemp necklace.”
“I’m not running. You don’t understand what’s going on here, Cairo.” Jacques pressed harder on my throat. “I have... to do this.”
“Here’s what you have to do,” he said. “Run.”
“What?”
“You heard him,” Legend said. “Run. If you get away from us, we’ll let you keep running. Get out of our town, start a new life somewhere, and you won’t hear from the Bedlam Boys again.
“We won’t tell the cops it was you either,” Arsenio added, dragging my attention to him. “You got one over on us once. Do it twice, and you’ll have earned your stay of execution—to borrow a phrase.”
Injured, pinned, and shaking, I trapped his gaze and hissed, “And if I don’t?”
“If we catch you”—Cairo stroked my cheek—“you’re ours.”
“Yours?”
A smile so beautiful stretched his lips, my mind rebelled connecting it to the ferality in those eyes.
“You’re going to make up for the pain and emotional damage you’ve caused us, and will continue to cause while we’re suspects for your crime.”
“For my crime?” I repeated. “You’re not turning me in?”
“We have someone else in mind for Cavendish’s murder trial,” he said. “Till then, people will believe we’re killers, and I’ll need you to comfort me and my boys.” That smile only got wider. “Remind us how much you appreciate us feeding you, getting you out of that crack motel, and keeping your secret.
