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The one I shot him with.
“You may have missed with this thing,” Maddoc hisses into my ear, “but at this range, there’s no way I will.”
My heart lurches, a wave of fear flooding through me that would have taken me to my knees if he hadn’t been holding me so tightly.
But I don’t have time for fear, and I’ve sure as shit got nothing left to lose.
I slam my head back, hoping to break his face with it, but Maddoc is faster. He feints to the side, so all I manage is a glancing blow… but he also loosens his grip on me.
I shove myself away and dart for the door, but I’m not fast enough.
Maddoc grabs me before I can open it.
“Let me fuckinggo,” I scream, kicking and clawing, fighting him like a feral wildcat.
Fighting, and losing.
Maddoc spins me around and slams my back against the door, then presses the gun under my chin, right in my face. And the look onhisface…
I swallow hard, fear freezing my veins.
Oh god. I don’t want to die.
“Don’t make me kill you, butterfly,” he growls, as if he read my mind. Like we actually do have that connection I was stupid enough to imagine existed… before.
But we don’t. The cold metal digging into the soft skin under my chin, making it hard to breathe, to even think, is all the proof I need. The seething anger in his Siberian Husky eyes—cold and flat as he stares down at me—is almost overkill.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he bites out as Dante and Logan step out of the shadows too.
I close my eyes, despair washing through me… and worse, leaking out my eyes. It’s not even that they caught me. It’s that they’ve snuffed out my hope. I know, deep in my heart, that I’ll never give up. Never stop working toward the goal of saving my sister.
But right now, it’s hard to see how I’ll ever get another chance.
“How?” I ask brokenly, opening my eyes and pretending I don’t feel the twin tracks of moisture down my cheeks.
It’s dark. Hopefully, the guys won’t see them.
“I saw you pick something up in the kitchen,” Logan says flatly as Maddoc finally lowers his gun, holding it loosely in one hand as he captures my wrists in a punishing grip with the other one.
It hurts, but I don’t give a fuck. Rage is burning away the useless, hopeless feeling I almost gave in to for a second there as I glare at Logan where he stands in the shadows.
He set me up. He knew I’d try to escape, and they were lying in wait for me. But worse, he didn’t let on. He saw, and he let me think I got away with it.
He was almostniceto me.
For some reason, it feels like a whole new level of betrayal.
I press my lips together tightly. I don’t have a death wish and Maddoc still has his gun out. Anything I say right now really is liable to get me killed.
I expect some form of punishment, or at the least, to be marched back up to my room and locked to the bed again. Instead, Maddoc drags me into the living room, the other two following, and tosses me onto the couch.
“What the fuck do you want from me?” I hiss, glaring up at the three of them. Staying pissed off is the only armor I have right now.
The three of them spread out in front of where I landed on the couch, looming over me. They’d be intimidating as hell even without the gun in Maddoc’s hand, but when he scowls down at me without putting it away, it’s all I can do to not flinch away.
“This isn’t going to work,” he says, just about making my heart stop.
I swallow hard, half expecting him to raise it and end this thing. Like he said a few minutes ago, there’s no way he’s going to miss like I did. Not at this range. Not if he really wants to be done with me.
