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The sound was different than I expected, and I pressed my foot discreetly into the corner of the rug sticking out from under the coffee table. A tang that sizzled my nose hairs ripped through me.
He’s doused the fucking thing in gasoline.
Just like he promised.
With the place as dry as a tinderbox in the height of summer, it would go up like a match, along with everything–and anyone–in it.
“Where’s Sienna?” I took a small step forward, rocking back on my heels.
Coming in, the worst thing I thought I’d have to deal with was talking Brendan into leaving the property. Now I was more than desperate to get him–and his daughter–out of the house.
“Where she belongs.” Jamie’s unsettling smile widened. “In her bed, like a good little girl.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I fought back the urge to vomit. “Then what are you still doing here if you’ve got what you wanted?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“What do you want me for?” I feigned disinterest.
He huffed. “Don’t play stupid, Kyle. Not unless you really are. I’m here to end your relationship with Sienna. She doesn’t get a choice in this.” His voice hardened as he rose.
I shrugged, and hoped to hell my face was as calm as I tried to make it while my heart thundered in my chest. “Sure.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That easy, huh?” His hand shifted behind him.
My legs braced as Brendan's foot shot out, striking hard enough that he fell off the sofa and Jamie topped on top of him.
I reached down and whipped the lighter out of Jamie's hand, tossing through the kitchen doorway. “Nu uh, you ugly fucker. Not your choice to make.” My bare blade pressed to the back of his neck.
“Fuck you. I own them and this place.”
“Legally? I don’t think so.” I gripped Brendan’s arm and extracted him from beneath Jamie, keeping the tip of my knife lodged over the skin between his vertebrae. He wiggled, and I tsked at him. “I wouldn’t do that if you want to retain the use of your legs. See, I’m not so steady on this slimy coated carpet you soaked, and we’ve got an old man who just doesn’t see so well. Who’s to say I don’t just slip and...” I flicked the tip and nicked his skin.
Jamie let out a howl, thrashing about. “You fuck–”
“No, you’re the one who will remember what happened here, Jamie.” I knelt on the carpet, the combustible liquid soaking into the knees of my jeans.
Brendan sighed out as he settled himself on the sofa and kicked out again, landing his boot squarely in Jamie's ribs by a freak of a happy accident.
Get them in while you can, old man.
“Good aim, Mister Andrews,” I muttered.
“Yeah. Great aim,Daddy.” Jamie rolled onto his back, flipping up to grab my wrist.
I watched him, my gut roiling. While I’d been thinking about who he was to Sienna, I hadn’t had the headspace to work out what that meant to the man he promised to burn like so much kindling.
Or what kind of conversation the two men shared before I arrived.
Jamie’s grip on my wrist didn’t stay as strong as I expected. His fingers slipped from my skin while I poised the knife over his face.
“Is this how you’re going out, Jamie?” I asked softly. “Cursing your father, and abusing a girl who should have trusted and loved you?”
“She loves me,” he hissed in my face, spitting the words.
I ignored the spray, pressing the tip of the knife into his tongue.
“No, Jamie. She doesn’t.” The words came surprisingly from my side. “I’m blind, and I know that about my daughter. You sicken me. You’ve always sickened me.”
