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“What the fuck are you doing here? Get out.”
I throw the gun to the floor and sign as I stride toward them, “So you can continue to torture him?”
“That’s the idea,” Killian says. “Remove yourself from the situation, Mia.”
“No.”
“I don’t know what this motherfucker has been saying to you, but you can’t believe any of it,” Jeremy says.
“Like the fact that he kept his part of the deal and you didn’t? You already agreed to a truce, so why the hell are you doing this?”
“I never agreed to the fucking truce,” Nikolai speaks in a voice so tight, the veins in his neck bulge with tension. “He does not, under any circumstances, get to touch you and live.”
“But that’s not up to you!” I get in his face, my movements brimming with anger. “This is my life and I have the right to decide whoever gets in it. Neither you nor anyone else has a say in it.”
“Mia,” he growls in warning.
I glare back at him and sign more calmly now, “Let him go.”
“No.”
“My apologies for breaking up the touching family moment, but hey you, uncultured swine.” He looks up at Jeremy, who’s now twisting Landon’s right arm at an awkward angle. “I know you’re jealous you’ll never be as artistically genius as me, but you’re causing strain on my priceless hand. Let go, would you?”
“Only if you get to free fall to hell, motherfucker.”
“Let him go, Jeremy,” I sign, watching the unnatural angle he’s holding his arm in. If he twists it to the side, he’ll break his wrist and the thought of that leaves me in cold sweat.
Landon can only survive through art. If that ability is taken from him, he won’t be able to battle the demonic forces inside him. I’ve seen how calm he gets when he’s creating, how grounded and zen his expression gets.
If that’s taken away, I’m not sure where he’ll go from here.
Nikolai watches my expression closely, then he smiles, but it’s manic at best as he leans down to stare at Landon’s face. “Want to keep your arm in one piece?”
“Preferably soon, yes.”
“Then leave my sister alone. For good.”
I push at Nikolai’s shoulder, but he doesn’t look at me. My chest tightens. Fuck. He knows that’s worse than ignoring me. If he doesn’t look at me, I can’t talk to him. He’s basically silencing me in the most brutal way possible.
And it hurts worse than I’d like to admit. Especially coming from my brother, who’s always listened to me, even when I talk gibberish.
I don’t recognize this version of Nikolai. Not even a little.
“If you don’t.” Nikolai’s face turns somber. “Jeremy will break the wrist you cherish so much.”
“Choose carefully, King,” Killian says in a casual tone. “Any breaking of arm bones, especially the wrist, could prove to be fatal in an artist’s life. Take it from me. As a med student, I can confirm that bones and ligaments never go back to the way they were and you could find immense difficulty in creating anything ever again. Your bright future will bepoof. Gone. In a fraction of a second.”
“Kill!” I push at his chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you? If you watch as his wrist is broken, Glyn will never forgive you.”
“She’ll never find out, and even if she does, I have a better track record than her emotionless brother.”
My lips part. I always thought Landon was the worse psychopath of the two, but right now, my cousin, whom I always considered like my second brother, looks worse than the monster from my past.
Because I know that even if the word got out and Glyn caught a whiff of this, he’d spin the story to look completely innocent. I’ve seen the way he looks at her and I’m well aware he can’t afford to lose her, but he certainly can afford to hurt her brother irrevocably.
“Go ahead,” Landon says tonelessly and without emotion. “You can break the other one as well while you’re at it. But I’ll always touch her, even with casts on. She’s mine and neither of you motherfuckers will decide otherwise.”
I meet his cold eyes with my alarmed ones and shake my head frantically.What are you doing, you idiot?
