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“Plus one for mercy.”This one came from my tracker.
Dylan’s eyes roamed over me in the criticizing way he used to do when we were younger. He was deciding whether or not to instigate something. It reminded me so much of Father that it was unnerving, forcing me to pause.
“Huh,” he said with a light tone. “I guess a point is a point, huh?”
“I won’t ask again,” I hissed, taking a step forward. My hand shot forward to tangle in his shirt. “What thefuckare you doing here?”
“Someonehas to heal our family's broken image,” Dylan said with a shit-eating grin. “How does it look for all of the Wolff bloodline to enter the gamesexceptyou? We all knew you’re a coward, but you don’t have to show it to the entire fuckingworld.”
I jerked him closer to me, getting up into his face.
“Is that what you’re doing?” I asked. “Pretending to be me? Did thatbastardput you up to this shit? I swear to fucking god—”
It was his turn to hook his hand behind my neck and jerk me forward to whisper in my ear.
“Stop it with this fucking tantrum,” he hissed. “Don’t you realize how bad this makes us look? They’re watching.Dad’s watching.”
I pushed him away with a glare. Unfazed, he smirked at me and picked up his discarded mask.
“They’re joining us,” Dylan announced to the group. Pink and Yellow turned to me, assessing.
And just like that, Dylan had me under his thumb again.
“No thanks.” I turned to walk away, but Dylan was faster, his hand pulling me back.
“Imagine the views,” he said. “Two brothers on the hunt for their victims?Guaranteed interest.”
This made me pause. As much as I hated it… he had a point.
Grumbling, I shrugged him off to face the others. They were looking at me with a mix of interest and hesitation.
“I guess,” I said and leaned to the side, looking at the guy in the pink mask who held a knife, dripping with the blood of his victim. “Where’d you get that?”
He jumped, his gaze snapping toward mine. I didn’t need to know. In fact, I had already guessed where he got it, but I wanted more than anything to end this conversation.
“Me?” he asked with a shaky voice.
“Who else, dimwit?” Dylan said with a cruel laugh. “Don’t mind Shaw, he’s a fucking idiot.”
Familiarity nagged at my brain as I looked over Shaw.
Where was he…
Images of them gathered around the island in the kitchen passing Dylan’s phone around filled my mind.
Renewed anger flashed through my mind.
Of course out of all the fuckers he had to bring… why him?
He slung an arm over my shoulders, pulling us forward. Because of the height difference, I was forced to bend down slightly so he wouldn’t be hanging off my shoulders.
A smug fact I couldn’t get over. For most of my life he towered over me, but now that I’d had a few years to grow into my body, I wasmuchtaller than he was.
“Let me show you where the weapons are. Maybe get you a gun,” Dylan said. “In return, you just hang out with us for a bit. Sound like a deal?”
I hated him. Even more than father. I hated being stuck here with him… but maybe he had something going for him.
“You’re just using me for views,” I grumbled. “Don’t try to make your motives seem altruistic.”
