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“Tell me,” I demanded, not sure I was ready to hear it if my brother hadn’t told me the truth.
“I lied yesterday.” He looked up at me as he stayed sitting on the floor.
I tensed. “What?”
“When I said Noah’s shot only grazed me. He shot me in the stomach.”
I paused for a moment before forcing out a laugh. “I guess it’s only a coincidence that you told me this after I told you what Noah said happened. Changing your story only makes you look more guilty.”
Anger burned in his eyes as he looked away from me and at the chair I was sitting in. In a quick move, he slid down until he was lying flat on the floor. I realized too late what he was doing. He stretched as far as the chain allowed, and his foot connected with the front leg of my chair.
I cried out when I tumbled forward as he knocked the chair out from under me. I landed on my hands and knees, his legs wrapping around me before I could scramble away. I swung my fist into his thigh before he got a hold of my arm and started pulling me closer to the pole.
“Stop,” I shrieked, my heels slipping on the polished wood. “Fucking asshole. This is not proving your story.”
He grabbed my wrist with his cuffed hand and pressed it onto the floor as he rolled on top of me. He straddled my hips, his weight heavy enough that I couldn’t buck him off. He leaned over me, catching my other arm and holding it firm as I struggled under him.
“Calm down,” he demanded as I twisted my wrist to try and slip out of his grip. “You wanted me to prove it to you, and that’s what I’m doing.”
“You don’t need to be on top of me to do that,” I snapped, my chest heaving. “I told you that I’m done letting you treat me like this.”
Challenge brightened his eyes, and he chuckled, lowering his face until it was right above mine. “I think I’m safe for now. The outfit you’re wearing has no hiding place for that knife of yours.”
His smug grin had rage shooting through me as I tried throwing him off me again. I jerked my head up, but he backed up before I could hit his face.
“I don’t think so,” he murmured. “You already did that to me once. Why don’t you try something else?”
My teeth clenched at his taunting. Talking to him had been a big fucking mistake. I should have just left him cuffed and stranded. Keeping one of my wrists trapped on the floor with his cuffed hand, he brought my other hand to his shirt. And then under his shirt. He pressed my fingers against his hard muscles, and I froze before trying to pull away.
“What are you doing?” I ground out as he guided my hand to the lower right side of his stomach.
“Feel that?” he asked, searching for my reaction.
“What? Your abs?” I asked sarcastically. “Yes, Eli, I can feel—”
“Listen to me,” he ordered, his patience waning. “I want to show you the truth.”
I stayed quiet, keeping my glare on him as he moved my hand lower. My eyes darted to his shirt when my fingers brushed over something rough. It felt different from the rest of his smooth skin. I trailed my fingers over the area that was raised, and after a moment, Eli released my hand as he watched me. My heart pounded as I gripped the hem of his shirt and lifted it.
The scar was a long line that trailed under his jeans. The middle of the scar was a bit wider, and it was clear that’s where the bullet had entered. I tried swallowing as my mouth went dry when I met Eli’s eyes.
“They had to cut me open to get the bullet out,” he said tightly. “Hence the huge fucking scar. Luckily, it didn’t hit anything that could have been fatal. And Richard had a doctor waiting when I got back to the Estate.”
“You never went to the hospital,” I muttered, already knowing why. Gunshot wounds were always reported to the police.
“No. The families didn’t want anything connecting me to what happened. I missed a month of school but kept up with my courses from home. The story they told was I needed surgery for my knee before basketball season started.”
“Noah did this?” I asked hoarsely. “On purpose?”
He paused. “I don’t know. He had shit aim. I don’t think he was even aiming. Just shooting.”
I let go of his shirt, watching as it covered his scar again. My mind was going a hundred miles a minute, realizing Noah had lied. What else had he lied about? Eli’s fingers went under my chin, and he lifted my face until I was looking at him.
“West practically had to carry me when the cops were coming. At the same time, we were screaming at Noah to follow us.” He tilted his head. “Tell me, Kat. How did we beat the shit out of him when I was bleeding out from his bullet?”
“You didn’t leave him?” I whispered, my chest constricting.
“We left him because he refused to leave. Not because we wanted him to take the fall.”
