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Kennedy turns his back to Casper to address Edison when a loud shot rings out through the small dark room and I’m in the front row seat to see the bullet flying straight into Kennedy Harlow’s skull from behind.
My father drops instantly, blood splattering onto all of us in close proximity, and I hold my breath, trying to keep the stench of my father’s dirty blood from my senses.
I don’t flinch. I don’t cry. I don’t feel any type of remorse.
I feel relieved.
My mother deserved better. I deserve better. And now that he’s gone, I’m one step closer to that.
My father’s cold body bleeds out on the floor at our feet. His blazer is drenched, sodden on the floor in a pool of blood, and I spot his gun tucked into his side just under the inside pocket.
My eyes lock with King’s. I can tell he’s trying to figure out how I’m feeling, but my blank persona is honestly how I feel on the inside.
Regret washes through me at accusing him of wanting to murder me when really he was trying to warn Kennedy off and keep me safe. He opened up to me, finally gave in and let me in, and I betrayed him, not trusting him.
If we get out of here, I’m going to rectify that.
“Untie her,” Casper says, nodding to Edison, who comes behind my back and starts sawing at the ropes with a blade. As the rope loosens, I wiggle my wrists for the freedom, trying to ease the ache in them and the burn of the rope that cuts into my skin.
Casper watches King. King watches me.
Once my arms are free, Edison holds them tight in his fists and brings his mouth to my ear.
“Try anything, and you’re dead.”
I nod my understanding and when he lets go of my wrists, I bring them around to my chest and rub at each wrist.
“Stop,” Casper says, looking over his shoulder at us, just as Edison was about to get to work on the ropes restraining my ankles.
Edison freezes and stands up, his brows drawn together in confusion.
Casper looks back at King, who still hasn’t taken his eyes away from me. His eyes flicker to the floor, at Kennedy’s body, then back up to me. I follow his gaze to the gun under Kennedy’s blazer, knowing he’s too far away for me to reach. I’d be dead before I even tried.
“You might hate to admit it, boy, but you’re a lot like me. Falling for the girl who shouldn’t be yours,” Casper says to King as his eyes leave mine to look at his.
“She is mine,” King simply replies, gritting his teeth.
“She might have been once,” he says, then takes slow steps backwards until he’s next to me.
Casper walks behind me, but I keep my focus ahead, looking at nothing but King. Casper’s hands come around my neck and he collects my hair, gathering it into one hand and pulling any stray strands out of my face.
He pulls my hair back, exposing my neck, and I clench my fists, ready to punch him as soon as he makes any wrong move. King’s fists hold on to the armrests of the chair tightly, mirroring my actions.
“Edison.” Casper nods and before I can do anything, Edison has my hands held in his firm grip behind my back again.
I yank my arms and scratch at his hands, but I’m not strong enough and Edison’s hold remains firm around my wrists.
Casper comes in front of me and bends down, his face level with my stomach between my parted legs. I keep my head held high but look down my nose at him with pure disgust.
“Shall we see what’s got lover boy so worked up over you, hmm?” he taunts, fumbling with the button to my jeans.
“Go to hell.” I spit directly into his eye.
He laughs and wipes my saliva away, then his hands return to my button. I thrash my hips and try to free my arms from Edison, but nothing works. Casper has successfully undone my jeans and managed to wrangle them down my legs, leaving my skin exposed, my open legs showing him my simple black knickers covering my modesty.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” King growls, thrashing in his seat himself, helpless.
Casper doesn’t turn around or even acknowledge that King has spoken and his fingers trail up my thighs as I desperately try to shut my legs.
