He nods. “I figured you’d take his side. He’s a good-looking kid… with seemingly good prospects. Do you feel lucky, Sawyer, to have gotten his attention? Because you’re not. He’s playing a game. At the end, he’ll drop this. Drop you.”
“If he does, he does. That’s not a reason to kill anyone.”
“You’re right.” He tucks the gun into the pocket of his robe, which still seems dangerous. “But let me show you something.Proof.” He gestures for me to come with him.
My mind races, and I hesitate. I don’t trust him. “Get it and bring it to my room.” While he’s gone, I can sneak downstairs to get Jamie so we can leave.
“Can’t. It’s on the work computer. My office. Come downstairs.”
I don’t want him behind me. At least on the main floor, we’ll be closer to where Jamie is. “You first, Dad.” I gesture for him to go, and I’ll follow.
He exits the room and I trail after him, leaving plenty of space between us.
Once we’re downstairs in his office, he boots up his work laptop and clicks on a folder. When he backs away, I walk over to look at the picture on the screen.
I’m confused. The picture is of Jamie and Ash with two little boys. The dark-haired one who’s sitting on Jamie’s shoulders looks three or four years old. The blond toddler in Ash’s arms is a little younger. He has the exact same blue eyes as the two of them. In the background, party decorations hang around the dining room, and helium balloons bob against the ceiling.
“What does this prove?” As I start to turn, something wraps around my throat and cinches tight.
Oh, my God!
My fingers claw at the braided cord, but it’s so tight I can’t get underneath it. My body bangs backwards into my dad, trying to get him to release me.
I try to scream, but I can’t even speak. My mouth opens and closes as I try impotently to call for help. My dad is killing me!
The world starts to blur as I gouge at my throat, trying desperately to loosen the cord. There’s no way to grip it. A searing pain in my neck radiates up and down. I can’t breathe.
Reaching behind my head, I scratch his face. He jerks back, and the pressure on my throat is even tighter. It’s digging into my flesh. I can’t stop him!
My fingers scrabble over the surface of the desk, knocking over the desk organizer. The contents spill out, and as my legs start to buckle, I snatch the letter opener. My falling causes his grip to loosen, and my lungs manage to drag in a partial breath.
As the cord cuts into my neck again, I stab backward into his flesh. He squawks, losing his grip, and I land on the floor. While he crashes to his knees, I gasp for breath and try to scramble away.
Rolling onto my back as Dad lunges toward me, I manage to get my knees up to block him. My hands cover my neck protectively as I pant and kick at him.
Suddenly, he’s hauled backward, and Jamie’s behind him. As I’m gasping, the cord jerks free of my dad’s hands, and Jamie wraps it around Dad’s neck.
The deadly blue of Jamie’s eyes fills my own vision.
Dad falls to his knees, grasping desperately at his throat, his eyes bulging. He can’t free himself, and I watch in horror as he experiences the same thing he just did to me. His hands reach down.
The gun.
As he starts to pull it out, I spring forward and knock the gun away. His hand gets a grip on the letter opener, but Jamie shoves him forward so he lands face down on the floor with the letter opener trapped beneath his body.
“Close your eyes, Sawyer.” Jamie’s voice is calm. Shockingly so.
My gaze locks with his, which is still full of cold determination.
Listening to him is the right call, but that’s not something I can force myself to do. Instead, I scramble backward into the corner until my back hits the wall. As I watch, my dad’s face turns purple, and his eyes bulge.
“Cranberry Sauce, don’t watch.” Jamie’s voice is gentle but firm.
My gaze darts up to his face. “You promised not to kill him.”
Jamie’s expression hardens. “Sawyer?—”
“You swore to me.”
