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Not a twinge stirred my soul.
I saved my compassion for innocent people, pets who spend all day chained, and those who know what it is to love, and lose it. I had none to spare for animal-abusing, violent ex-boyfriends who fuck with brakes, and protect rapists and murderers.
“Here’s how it is, Hill.” Rafael set him on the ground and checked his zip ties. “Whoever sent you that dare offered you a prize you’ve never had before: something you couldn’t get for yourself.”
Rafael slipped his bag off his shoulder. “Between the chance to catapult to the top tiers of the Royal line, and the penalty if you refused, you probably thought the choice was easy. Whatever made it feel right in your desiccated heart to accept that dare, I don’t want to know.
“What I do know is that you made the wrong choice then, and you’re making the wrong one now. Understand something, Wesley, your family isn’t moving up the Royal line.” I watched Rafael—transfixed by the deadly serious man before me as he took out a bomb.
“Hmmphf!”
“It’s a new era, Hill. We believe women. You gave Winter’s attacker a fake alibi, and no one is hearing your bleats that Luna is lying. Which clarifies your options considerably. You won’t collect on the grand reward the Phantom promised, so if you walk out of here, your life is ruined anyway.
“But you know this,” he said. “At this point, it’s not about their reward, it’s about their punishment if you reveal who they are. You’ve been using the power of knowing their identity to blackmail and keep them at arm’s length. That power goes away if you tell anyone, and everything they had done to Winter, they’ll do to you.”
Wesley wasn’t tossing, kicking, or shouting anymore. He was still and sweating, fixed on the bomb.
“That’s why you think it’s better to let us kill you now, than let them kill you later, and again you’re wrong. We’re going to kill them, Wesley. We’ll make them pay for every horrible thing they had done to Winter. They’ll die screaming while you—as Luna promised—will be spared or life. A life outside the Royal line, but you’ll still be a rich, able-bodied white boy, so you’ll do just fine. Consider that option A.
“Now for option B...” Rafael set the bomb down next to him. “You die now.”
Wesley burst into tears.
“You want to be the martyr, you’ll get your wish. This bomb will countdown from five minutes. If you’ve shouted out the name of Winter’s killer by then, I’ll shut off the timer and everyone goes home. If not, then at least you’ll get the pointless death you were looking for, because we will find them—no matter what it takes. What’s it going to be?”
I bent and removed his gag.
“You won’t do it,” he gasped, chest heaving. “That’s not a real b-bomb. You’re trying to trick me.”
Rafael just smiled. “I guess we’ll find out in five minutes.”
Taking my hand in one, and removing the remote from his pocket with the other, he pressed the button.
“No!”
Five minutes flashed on the small digital screen three times, then the countdown began.
“Nooo! Don’t do this. Turn it off!”
“You know how to do that.”
Rafael led me and Cato away—outside the blast radius.
“Rafael,” I said softly. “Is that a real bomb?”
The look in his eyes told me before he spoke. “He shouldn’t have touched you.”
I chose my words carefully. “But what if he still thinks it’s a bluff and doesn’t talk?”
“Then, he dies.”
That was the obvious conclusion, wasn’t it.
We ducked past the tree line. We could hear and see the figure trying desperately to roll away and getting nowhere.
“All right, that’s enough. Turn it off,” Wesley called. “We all know you’re not going to blow me up, so just turn it off.”
One minute passed.
“You’re sick, Dumont! A twisted, psychopath freak! You’re dead when I get out of here. Dead!”
Two minutes passed.
“I know it’s a fake. You’re not fooling me.” Wesley tried and failed again to get his feet under him. He fell flat on his front and nearly dropped on the bomb. “Turn it off. Stop fucking around and turn it off!”
I’d never seen men more relaxed than Rafael and Cato Dumont. They both leaned against a tree, watching a nesting mother feed her baby birds—Rafael. Or taking a blowtorch to the bark—Cato.
Three minutes passed.
“I don’t know their name, okay?” Wesley shouted. “I never knew their name. Giovanni told Levi, and Levi lorded it over us. Said if we wanted something from them, we had to go through him. If you want a name, you need Levi.”
I looked to Rafael. That did sound like something Levi would do.
“Hey! Are you listening? I don’t know their name!”
“I think you’re a liar,” Rafael sang, “and I’ll find out in two minutes.”
“Bastard! I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
